Fic: Perfect Love
Greetings fans and general well wishers! Well as much as I LUV the Wincest, I decided to put it on hold for a while as I let the plot bunnies take control. I don't have to tell you all how much I despise Mary Sue's! I mean SO LAME amiright? I mean it's slash or nothing if you know what I'm sayin' ;) But I decided that my Sammy's tryst's with the female of the species were lacking in the depth and power that he craved! I mean he is a sensitive man who has deep feelings! He isn't some manwhore (except for his brother). So this glorious day I present to you my deep character study of what really happened after Dean went to Hell.
Title: Perfect Love
Rating: R
Pairing: Sam/OFC
beta'd by the amazing and wonderful and talented castiellicker and lingling20
It started as a day like any other. The sun was just past midway through its daily journey across the heavens and was hiding its full magnificence behind some rising cumulonimbus clouds. Betty waved to an elderly patron and adjusted her sensible black skirt as she stood while she picked up a stack of books and flipped her flaxen colored hair from her sea foam green eyes. She had been working as a librarian for a while now and she liked it, but couldn’t help but feel terribly bored sometimes. Betty craved adventure, even if she knew she was too shy and plain for anything exciting to ever happen to her.
For what seemed the hundredth time today, Betty made her way into the endless, high stacks to shelve her heavy load of books. In an absentminded daze, she rounded a corner too fast and collapsed onto a tall stranger. He caught her with his large muscular arms and she placed her hands on his deceivingly hard chest to steady herself. Her pile of books went tumbling to the floor and she crouched to gather them.
“I’m so sorry!” Betty flushed with embarrassment.
She was never known for her grace; in fact she was frequently teased about how much of a klutz she was.
“It’s alright,” soothed the man, “I was actually hoping you might be able to help me. My name is Sam, by the way.”
“Oh yes! I’m Betty. What can I help you with?” She rose too quickly and she and Sam’s craniums collided.
Betty’s eyes turned a shade of grey, like they always did when she felt humiliated, but Sam just laughed, a chuckle wreathed in secret unknown sorrow. She gazed into his hazel eyes, and made note how they seemed to change color in the light, how the flecks of gold in his iris danced and seduced her despite herself.
Sam looked like he hadn’t slept for weeks. His red rimmed eyes gave a window into a soul that was filled with deeply crippling torturous sadness and loss that betrayed his otherwise strong and genial exterior. Betty fought the overwhelming urge to hug him and never let go.
“I’m looking for any old books you have,” started Sam, “like ancient old.”
“Ancient?” Betty questioned. She knew the library contained a rare collection of truly ancient occult books but it was usually old professor types who came to seek them, not young, virile, statuesque men like this.
Sam was tired. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to get the third degree from any nosy librarians when he came here. Ever since his brother had been ripped to bloody shreds in front of him and deposited into the eternal fiery pit of Hell, Sam’s patience, charm, and way with words and people had been in short supply. All he wanted to do was find a way to get his brother out; he didn’t care what he would have to do or whether it would kill him. He hoped it would kill him. It would save him from the never ending restlessness and guilt that he felt.
Yet this Betty, he thought, was something he wasn’t expecting. For a brief and shining moment, Sam forgot about his heartbreak and focused only on how peaceful this woman’s countenance was, how her golden hair shone in the filtered sunlight streaming through the high windows, how his reflection in her soulful eyes revealed something about himself, a shadow of the person he used to be. But then the moment was gone and he was slammed back to reality and he choked over his words as he spoke in reply.
“I’m doing research. It’s the most important thing I can do right now. I’d rather not talk about it.”
Betty gave the sexy mysterious man a look that conveyed her confusion but said nothing more to pry. If Sam wanted to share, she thought, he would. He didn’t seem like the type that could be forced to disclose anything that he didn’t want to. She beckoned him to a table in the back corner of the library among the abandoned ancient volumes.
“There are a lot of books here and some of them are not allowed to be touched by anyone but the staff. I would like to help you. Can you give me an idea of what you’re looking for?”
She hoped he would give her something to go on. Her curiosity was piqued and she desperately wanted to know all about him. He, this man with the floppy sepia hair, a fawn colored tendril fallen into his mournful eyes, his honeyed skin stretched over his handsome face, brought something out in her she thought was forever hidden.
Sam decided that he might actually need some help and for some reason felt at ease with her and began his explanation.
“I need to know how to get someone out of Hell. I need books about Hell. My brother--,” Sam broke off.
“Ok?” Betty paused, “I think I can help you.”
Betty always had (what some people called) an unhealthy obsession with the afterlife and the occult. After her parents died of exposure during a camping trip when she was a child, after they were chased from their tent by an unseen force, she swore that on rare occasions she could sense them in the room with her at night, watching over her. She also never stopped wondering what caused them to peel off their clothes in the middle of winter, what turned their skin orange, why her mother’s tongue was cut out. She didn’t need to ask questions. She had deep family secrets of her own.
Sam was shocked by her eagerness, her absence of questions and accusing looks. She went to work carefully pulling a few archaic tomes from the racks and placing them delicately on the clean wooden table in front of Sam. His baleful eye’s followed her slender form from one stack of shelves to the next, catching a glimpse of her smooth pale stomach revealed under her pink blouse as she stretched for a volume on a high shelf. Sam rose to help her but she was back at the table before he got a chance to walk over.
“Thank you for doing this…for not asking me anything I mean.”
“It’s no trouble,” Betty sympathized, “we all have secrets. Plus, you don’t seem like the type that would want to conjure up Lucifer or something anyway.”
Sam smiled a sad smile. He opened the first book; a moth eaten cover revealed ancient parchment covered in nightmarish pictograms and Latin. Without realizing it, Sam opened up to Betty.
Betty sat down opposite Sam and listened in shock and horror and quiet understanding as he spoke about his brother and how he died in a horrible way. He spoke about his feverish uncontrollable guilt. Sam’s eyes clouded with unshed tears. He hadn’t been able to cry about it, not yet. He needed the release that angry, mournful tears would provide but he would not allow himself the satisfaction. Just then, a single perfect salty tear splashed onto the ancient parchment, smearing an illuminated “D” and rolling down the outer edge of the gilded pages. Sam’s first tear had been shed.
Betty placed her hand over Sam’s and with a gentle squeeze tried to offer her support, to urge him to continue. At this gesture, Sam shuttered himself back behind his emotional walls and reminded himself that despite her beauty and kind demeanor, he did not know her. He felt ashamed of revealing his innermost feelings in such an outward way and snapped at her.
“LEAVE ME ALONE! “ He jerked his hand away as his words echoed off the library walls, “I’m serious,” he regained some semblance of composure.
Shocked at his sudden outburst, Betty jolted back and stood up. She didn’t need to be yelled at by a stranger when she was only trying to help. Why did this man feel the need to pour his heart out only to attack her when she offered solace?
“I’ll leave you alone. You can leave the books there when you’re done,” she growled through gritted teeth, and walked off.
She hoped she would never see him again, even though he was the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on. He told an outlandish story, but she found herself believing him. Betty always knew there was more than what human eyes could see. Her father always told her that, and she had come to believe it when she had to identify his body at the morgue and overheard the medical examiner talking about his massive internal injuries even though no evidence could be seen externally beyond his carrot colored husk. She was angry with Sam but there was something about him she just couldn’t shake.
Betty finished her shift and went around the business of closing the library. She was curious about the books that Sam was looking at and since she was sure he had left hours before, she locked the doors and made a beeline for the dusty corner of the library where the written relics were kept.
She began turning the pages in the open book. Though it was all in a language she did not understand (she guessed it was Aramaic), the drawings twisted her stomach into a tangle. Twisted faces in agony stared back at her, their misery all too real looking, too life-like, as if someone had drawn these terrible scenes as they were gazing upon them.
Someone grabbed her wrist! Betty yelped. It was Sam.
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
“No. It’s ok,” Betty answered warily. She was still remembering his outburst.
“I’m sorry about earlier too,” Sam’s overlarge sad eyes showed his sincerity, “I’m in a weird place right now but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry.”
Sam swallowed her petite, soft, feminine hands in his large, warm, calloused ones. Betty knew he meant it and her heart broke for him. Her icy exterior melted under his warming gaze.
Suddenly Sam leaned forward, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, and he kissed her. His lips brushing against hers were like the delicate caress of a butterfly's wings but the contact quickly became passionate, as Sam ran his fingers through her golden hair, gently tilting her head back to deepen the kiss. Betty knew she should not be kissing some man she just met in the library after hours but when Sam wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her against his firm perfectly sculpted chest, she forgot to care. She was inexplicable drawn to this handsome stranger, not merely because of his good looks, but because of the hidden sweetness she saw in his eyes, she felt cosmically connected to him. He made her feel safe and protected. It had been a long time since any man had aroused her interest on any level and it wasn't like tall, handsome, firm chested strangers walked into the library every day, let alone ones as sad and sensitive as Sam. He reminded her of a lost, wounded puppy, and now his kisses were making her dizzy with desire.
Sam gazed into Betty's now cerulean blue eyes. He had to be sure that she wanted this as much as he did. Everything about her was driving him wild. Her lips were like sun-ripened berries and twice as sweet, he couldn't resist them, especially in combination with her Altoid minty sweet breath. Sam’s desire was like a runaway train. He fought the urge to push her up against the stacks and have his way with her. Instead he wanted to savor every moment of their impassioned encounter. As he moved his mouth slowly down her long, swan-like neck, Sam let his hands roam freely over her slender, yet curvaceous body slowly lifting her thin, cotton, pink t-shirt.
He marveled at the porcelain perfection of her flat stomach, she must workout, such a sharp contrast to his own bronzed skin, and bent his head to claim her lips once again as he gently guided her back to sitting position on the table. Part of him felt incredible guilty, because he knew he would probably never see Betty again, and while they had just met he felt a connection her that he couldn't explain. There was more that carnal lust driving his desire for her. His world had been dark every moment since Dean died and he's thought he'd never see light again until he looked in Betty's eyes. He knew there was sadness beyond the light, and if he weren't consumed with releasing Dean from hell, he would do everything he could the erase the sadness from her gorgeous azure eyes, but for now this was all they had.
Betty slid her hands into Sam's silky chocolate brown locks and pressed her body against his long lean form. She could tell even through the multiple layers of clothing that his body was toned and well defined. She gasped as Sam's calloused fingers brushed her nipples through the thin white lace of her bra. She wondered how hands could be both rough yet gentle at the same time. Sam's skilled touch sent a surge of heat through her already excited body and she let her hands slip down over his taut muscled chest and under his threadbare white shirt. Betty became even more aroused as her hands freely roamed the contoured planes of his chest and stomach. Everything about Sam was just so right; she expected to wake up any second from the best dream of her 26 years.
Sam loved the feel of Betty's tiny, delicate, little hands roaming his body, but it wasn't nearly enough. He pulled momentarily back, his lustful gaze never leaving the beautiful woman before him and pulled off his shirt revealing his entire tanned sculpted torso to Betty's eyes. He saw the desire in her lovely eyes flame even more brightly and he reached for her. Slowly he pulled her shirt over her head tossing it onto the table atop the stack of books that had once held his attention, but were now forgotten.
Betty shivered slightly as the cool library air hit her skin, but the chill was brief as she saw the clear admiration in Sam's sometimes green, sometimes brown eyes as he looked at her. She flushed. Betty pulled him closer to her. She could feel the impressive steel of his hardness pressing against her thigh. Sam cupped her breasts in his large but gentle hands, they fit perfectly. Sam caressed her lady lumps feeling the heat of her flesh through the thin lace of her bra. Betty arched into his expert touch. Sam wanted more of her and removed her bra in one exquisite motion and took one of her perfectly, strawberry, pink nipples into his mouth teasing it with his tongue. Betty moaned and felt a surge of wetness between her legs as Sam's mouth moved to her other breast and his hands slid under her black pencil skirt.
Sam could feel Betty shudder with anticipatory delight as he pulled her white lace panties down her smooth, pale legs and knelt before her. Slowly he kissed his way up her perfect legs savoring her fragrance; it was an intoxicating blend of rose petals, golden amber, hypnotic incense, sparkling Riesling and feminine arousal. Sam was hit with a fresh bolt of lust as he placed gentle kisses along her inner thigh. He couldn't remember the last time he had wanted a woman so much. His encounters with Madison and Ruby were empty and regrettable. Betty was a world apart from either of them, she was sweet and soft, the sort of woman he believed would truly understand him. He gazed up into the deepening blue of her eyes and the look of utter trust she had in them nearly broke Sam's heart. A woman hadn't looked at him like that since Jess. He pushed away that memory; this was not the time to think of Jessica. As if she could read his mind Betty stroked her fingers gently through his hair brushing a stray lock out his eyes.
"It's ok." she said softly.
"We can stop if you think this is a -," she hesitated, "a mistake."
Sam felt instantly guilty at the slight quiver that crept into her voice at the end of the sentence. He probably should stop. He didn't know how he was going to be able to walk away from her after this, but he didn't want this to end, not like this. He didn't want to leave a woman this precious and beautiful feeling that she was anything less than perfect. Besides he needed her desperately and wanted to make sure she understood that. Sam stroked her cheek gently looking into her eyes.
"There is nothing about this that is a mistake." He said firmly, his voice deepened by the lust pulsing through his veins. "I don't want to stop, unless you do."
Betty was completely overwhelmed by the yearning in Sam's voice. He seemed so vulnerable there was no way that she could refuse him, and she didn't want to. Betty shook her head making her honey colored locks fall to her face. She let out a tiny nervous breath.
"Of course I don't want to stop," she paused, a slow blush painting her cheeks. "I know we just met but-," she looked away.
Betty was at a loss to express exactly what she was feeling for someone who was practically a stranger but felt so safe and familiar. She bit her lower lip struggling to find the right words, without sounding like a potential stalker.
Sam turned her face to peer once again onto the mesmerizing sea of blue that was her eyes.
"I know I feel it too," he cooed before lowering his head to taste her.
Betty quivered at the first touch of Sam's tongue against the sensitive pearl of her womanhood. Most of Betty's previous sexual encounters had been rather dull from her perspective. She'd honestly started to believe it was over-rated, except that now Sam was slowly, expertly, driving her towards ecstasy. She had no idea that anything could feel this good. Her moans of pleasure echoed through the empty library as Sam explored her more deeply. Betty could feel the heat building in her center, and knew that she would soon be teetering on the edge of bliss.
The sounds of Betty's exquisite pleasure were driving Sam insane and he knew he couldn't wait a moment longer to possess her. The noise of disappointment that Betty made when he pulled away did not escape his notice. He knew she must be close.
"Shhh," He soothed.
"Soon, I promise." He said sitting down in his chair and pulling her into his lap.
Carefully Sam guided her onto his straining masculinity. They both gasped when he was fully sheathed inside her. She was impossibly tight and hot, and he savored the sensation of being inside her before they began to move. Betty was impossibly radiant like this, with the platinum shine of the moon’s rays reflecting off her snow white skin she looked like an angel.
"So beautiful," Sam sighed before pulling her down to kiss her.
It was like he couldn't get enough of Betty. Sam kissed her until they were both breathless. He wished this would never end but he could tell from Betty's breathing that she was once again close to climax and so was he.
Betty's hands tightened on Sam's broad, manly shoulders as she fell into bliss. Gazing deeply into Sam's eyes as the shock waves of love moved through her, she cried out his name. The sight of his perfect angel reaching ecstasy and crying his name like it was a prayer was more than enough to push him over the edge. Betty collapsed into him resting her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her burying his face in her blonde waves and inhaling the scent of lavender and rose. They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for a long moment, until Sam felt a slight dampness on his shoulder.
"Betty," he said softly, "are you okay?"
"I'm fine,” she said, trying to pull away.
Sam heard the faint quiver in her voice, and loosened their embrace only enough to look into her eyes. She looked down quickly.
"Look at me . . . please." Sam asked. His voice sounded worried and Betty didn't want that. She tried to blink away her tears as she looked him the eye.
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Sam was genuinely concerned; he didn't want to think about any harm coming to Betty.
Betty was touched by his concern. "No." She assured him, "it was perfect.'
She hesitated to voice her real concern. After all, she knew what she was getting into in the first place.
"Tell me." He coaxed her gently brushing a stray hair from her face.
She took a deep breath, to calm herself.
"I'm never going to see you again, am I?"
It sounded more like a statement than a question. Sam felt awful. He knew she deserved more and he wanted to give it to her. He hadn't been lying when he said he felt a connection with her. Suddenly the burden of being a Winchester, a hunter seemed heavier than ever before. He couldn't begin to find the words to comfort her.
'I'm sorry," he started.
"It's okay," Betty cut him off. "We should get out of here though."
Sam agreed, it was getting late and he would need to get on the road early tomorrow. They dressed in companionable silence. With Sam's help Betty quickly finished her shelving and soon they were standing in the pale moonlight on the library's stone steps. The moon’s silvery glow hid behind a cloud just as a shadow of abandonment crossed Betty’s heart.
"Can I drive you home?" Sam inquired. He was reluctant to end his time with Betty.
"My apartment is only a few blocks away," She said smiling up at him. "Besides it's nice out tonight. I'd rather walk."
"Do you mind if walk with you?"
Betty took his hand and they strolled slowly down the small town’s sidewalk, past the quiet picket fence lined patches of green, and under the centuries old oaks that shielded them from the sky, chatting the whole way. This was exactly the kind of life Sam wanted when he left for Stanford. It would just be so easy to stop and stay here, with Betty. That was impossible though, he could never abandon his beloved brother no matter what he was feeling for Betty.
In too short a time, they were outside of Betty's quaint Victorian era apartment building.
"Good bye Sam," she said turning to walk up the wooden front porch steps, “I hope you get your brother back."
She was on the top step when Sam called her name and took a deep breath before turning back around. The petite blonde was emotional and was hoping to get inside before she started crying. Betty turned to see him coming up the creaking steps toward her.
Sam couldn't let her go without being completely honest with her. He wrapped her in his arms and looked down into her eyes. He would never forget those ever-changing eyes, which were now violet, and how he felt when he was near her.
"If things work out with my brother, I promise I'll be back, because you are everything I have ever wanted."
The way that Sam kissed her, left no doubt in her mind as to the sincerity of his words. He held for a moment more before whispering a last goodbye in her ear, and placing a last kiss on her porcelain forehead.
Betty walked in to her lonely apartment, her cat Buttons was looking quite put out by her late return. She picked Buttons up and sat on the pink flowered taffeta couch that once belonged to her grandmother, petting her wondering if she would ever see Sam again. But even if she didn’t, she knew she would never forget this night or the powerful connection she felt with him.
Sam managed to make it all the way to the edge of town before a single tear slipped down his cheek as he thought of the perfect love he was leaving behind.
Title: Perfect Love
Rating: R
Pairing: Sam/OFC
beta'd by the amazing and wonderful and talented castiellicker and lingling20
It started as a day like any other. The sun was just past midway through its daily journey across the heavens and was hiding its full magnificence behind some rising cumulonimbus clouds. Betty waved to an elderly patron and adjusted her sensible black skirt as she stood while she picked up a stack of books and flipped her flaxen colored hair from her sea foam green eyes. She had been working as a librarian for a while now and she liked it, but couldn’t help but feel terribly bored sometimes. Betty craved adventure, even if she knew she was too shy and plain for anything exciting to ever happen to her.
For what seemed the hundredth time today, Betty made her way into the endless, high stacks to shelve her heavy load of books. In an absentminded daze, she rounded a corner too fast and collapsed onto a tall stranger. He caught her with his large muscular arms and she placed her hands on his deceivingly hard chest to steady herself. Her pile of books went tumbling to the floor and she crouched to gather them.
“I’m so sorry!” Betty flushed with embarrassment.
She was never known for her grace; in fact she was frequently teased about how much of a klutz she was.
“It’s alright,” soothed the man, “I was actually hoping you might be able to help me. My name is Sam, by the way.”
“Oh yes! I’m Betty. What can I help you with?” She rose too quickly and she and Sam’s craniums collided.
Betty’s eyes turned a shade of grey, like they always did when she felt humiliated, but Sam just laughed, a chuckle wreathed in secret unknown sorrow. She gazed into his hazel eyes, and made note how they seemed to change color in the light, how the flecks of gold in his iris danced and seduced her despite herself.
Sam looked like he hadn’t slept for weeks. His red rimmed eyes gave a window into a soul that was filled with deeply crippling torturous sadness and loss that betrayed his otherwise strong and genial exterior. Betty fought the overwhelming urge to hug him and never let go.
“I’m looking for any old books you have,” started Sam, “like ancient old.”
“Ancient?” Betty questioned. She knew the library contained a rare collection of truly ancient occult books but it was usually old professor types who came to seek them, not young, virile, statuesque men like this.
Sam was tired. He was hoping he wouldn’t have to get the third degree from any nosy librarians when he came here. Ever since his brother had been ripped to bloody shreds in front of him and deposited into the eternal fiery pit of Hell, Sam’s patience, charm, and way with words and people had been in short supply. All he wanted to do was find a way to get his brother out; he didn’t care what he would have to do or whether it would kill him. He hoped it would kill him. It would save him from the never ending restlessness and guilt that he felt.
Yet this Betty, he thought, was something he wasn’t expecting. For a brief and shining moment, Sam forgot about his heartbreak and focused only on how peaceful this woman’s countenance was, how her golden hair shone in the filtered sunlight streaming through the high windows, how his reflection in her soulful eyes revealed something about himself, a shadow of the person he used to be. But then the moment was gone and he was slammed back to reality and he choked over his words as he spoke in reply.
“I’m doing research. It’s the most important thing I can do right now. I’d rather not talk about it.”
Betty gave the sexy mysterious man a look that conveyed her confusion but said nothing more to pry. If Sam wanted to share, she thought, he would. He didn’t seem like the type that could be forced to disclose anything that he didn’t want to. She beckoned him to a table in the back corner of the library among the abandoned ancient volumes.
“There are a lot of books here and some of them are not allowed to be touched by anyone but the staff. I would like to help you. Can you give me an idea of what you’re looking for?”
She hoped he would give her something to go on. Her curiosity was piqued and she desperately wanted to know all about him. He, this man with the floppy sepia hair, a fawn colored tendril fallen into his mournful eyes, his honeyed skin stretched over his handsome face, brought something out in her she thought was forever hidden.
Sam decided that he might actually need some help and for some reason felt at ease with her and began his explanation.
“I need to know how to get someone out of Hell. I need books about Hell. My brother--,” Sam broke off.
“Ok?” Betty paused, “I think I can help you.”
Betty always had (what some people called) an unhealthy obsession with the afterlife and the occult. After her parents died of exposure during a camping trip when she was a child, after they were chased from their tent by an unseen force, she swore that on rare occasions she could sense them in the room with her at night, watching over her. She also never stopped wondering what caused them to peel off their clothes in the middle of winter, what turned their skin orange, why her mother’s tongue was cut out. She didn’t need to ask questions. She had deep family secrets of her own.
Sam was shocked by her eagerness, her absence of questions and accusing looks. She went to work carefully pulling a few archaic tomes from the racks and placing them delicately on the clean wooden table in front of Sam. His baleful eye’s followed her slender form from one stack of shelves to the next, catching a glimpse of her smooth pale stomach revealed under her pink blouse as she stretched for a volume on a high shelf. Sam rose to help her but she was back at the table before he got a chance to walk over.
“Thank you for doing this…for not asking me anything I mean.”
“It’s no trouble,” Betty sympathized, “we all have secrets. Plus, you don’t seem like the type that would want to conjure up Lucifer or something anyway.”
Sam smiled a sad smile. He opened the first book; a moth eaten cover revealed ancient parchment covered in nightmarish pictograms and Latin. Without realizing it, Sam opened up to Betty.
Betty sat down opposite Sam and listened in shock and horror and quiet understanding as he spoke about his brother and how he died in a horrible way. He spoke about his feverish uncontrollable guilt. Sam’s eyes clouded with unshed tears. He hadn’t been able to cry about it, not yet. He needed the release that angry, mournful tears would provide but he would not allow himself the satisfaction. Just then, a single perfect salty tear splashed onto the ancient parchment, smearing an illuminated “D” and rolling down the outer edge of the gilded pages. Sam’s first tear had been shed.
Betty placed her hand over Sam’s and with a gentle squeeze tried to offer her support, to urge him to continue. At this gesture, Sam shuttered himself back behind his emotional walls and reminded himself that despite her beauty and kind demeanor, he did not know her. He felt ashamed of revealing his innermost feelings in such an outward way and snapped at her.
“LEAVE ME ALONE! “ He jerked his hand away as his words echoed off the library walls, “I’m serious,” he regained some semblance of composure.
Shocked at his sudden outburst, Betty jolted back and stood up. She didn’t need to be yelled at by a stranger when she was only trying to help. Why did this man feel the need to pour his heart out only to attack her when she offered solace?
“I’ll leave you alone. You can leave the books there when you’re done,” she growled through gritted teeth, and walked off.
She hoped she would never see him again, even though he was the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes on. He told an outlandish story, but she found herself believing him. Betty always knew there was more than what human eyes could see. Her father always told her that, and she had come to believe it when she had to identify his body at the morgue and overheard the medical examiner talking about his massive internal injuries even though no evidence could be seen externally beyond his carrot colored husk. She was angry with Sam but there was something about him she just couldn’t shake.
Betty finished her shift and went around the business of closing the library. She was curious about the books that Sam was looking at and since she was sure he had left hours before, she locked the doors and made a beeline for the dusty corner of the library where the written relics were kept.
She began turning the pages in the open book. Though it was all in a language she did not understand (she guessed it was Aramaic), the drawings twisted her stomach into a tangle. Twisted faces in agony stared back at her, their misery all too real looking, too life-like, as if someone had drawn these terrible scenes as they were gazing upon them.
Someone grabbed her wrist! Betty yelped. It was Sam.
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
“No. It’s ok,” Betty answered warily. She was still remembering his outburst.
“I’m sorry about earlier too,” Sam’s overlarge sad eyes showed his sincerity, “I’m in a weird place right now but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m sorry.”
Sam swallowed her petite, soft, feminine hands in his large, warm, calloused ones. Betty knew he meant it and her heart broke for him. Her icy exterior melted under his warming gaze.
Suddenly Sam leaned forward, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, and he kissed her. His lips brushing against hers were like the delicate caress of a butterfly's wings but the contact quickly became passionate, as Sam ran his fingers through her golden hair, gently tilting her head back to deepen the kiss. Betty knew she should not be kissing some man she just met in the library after hours but when Sam wrapped his strong arms around her and pulled her against his firm perfectly sculpted chest, she forgot to care. She was inexplicable drawn to this handsome stranger, not merely because of his good looks, but because of the hidden sweetness she saw in his eyes, she felt cosmically connected to him. He made her feel safe and protected. It had been a long time since any man had aroused her interest on any level and it wasn't like tall, handsome, firm chested strangers walked into the library every day, let alone ones as sad and sensitive as Sam. He reminded her of a lost, wounded puppy, and now his kisses were making her dizzy with desire.
Sam gazed into Betty's now cerulean blue eyes. He had to be sure that she wanted this as much as he did. Everything about her was driving him wild. Her lips were like sun-ripened berries and twice as sweet, he couldn't resist them, especially in combination with her Altoid minty sweet breath. Sam’s desire was like a runaway train. He fought the urge to push her up against the stacks and have his way with her. Instead he wanted to savor every moment of their impassioned encounter. As he moved his mouth slowly down her long, swan-like neck, Sam let his hands roam freely over her slender, yet curvaceous body slowly lifting her thin, cotton, pink t-shirt.
He marveled at the porcelain perfection of her flat stomach, she must workout, such a sharp contrast to his own bronzed skin, and bent his head to claim her lips once again as he gently guided her back to sitting position on the table. Part of him felt incredible guilty, because he knew he would probably never see Betty again, and while they had just met he felt a connection her that he couldn't explain. There was more that carnal lust driving his desire for her. His world had been dark every moment since Dean died and he's thought he'd never see light again until he looked in Betty's eyes. He knew there was sadness beyond the light, and if he weren't consumed with releasing Dean from hell, he would do everything he could the erase the sadness from her gorgeous azure eyes, but for now this was all they had.
Betty slid her hands into Sam's silky chocolate brown locks and pressed her body against his long lean form. She could tell even through the multiple layers of clothing that his body was toned and well defined. She gasped as Sam's calloused fingers brushed her nipples through the thin white lace of her bra. She wondered how hands could be both rough yet gentle at the same time. Sam's skilled touch sent a surge of heat through her already excited body and she let her hands slip down over his taut muscled chest and under his threadbare white shirt. Betty became even more aroused as her hands freely roamed the contoured planes of his chest and stomach. Everything about Sam was just so right; she expected to wake up any second from the best dream of her 26 years.
Sam loved the feel of Betty's tiny, delicate, little hands roaming his body, but it wasn't nearly enough. He pulled momentarily back, his lustful gaze never leaving the beautiful woman before him and pulled off his shirt revealing his entire tanned sculpted torso to Betty's eyes. He saw the desire in her lovely eyes flame even more brightly and he reached for her. Slowly he pulled her shirt over her head tossing it onto the table atop the stack of books that had once held his attention, but were now forgotten.
Betty shivered slightly as the cool library air hit her skin, but the chill was brief as she saw the clear admiration in Sam's sometimes green, sometimes brown eyes as he looked at her. She flushed. Betty pulled him closer to her. She could feel the impressive steel of his hardness pressing against her thigh. Sam cupped her breasts in his large but gentle hands, they fit perfectly. Sam caressed her lady lumps feeling the heat of her flesh through the thin lace of her bra. Betty arched into his expert touch. Sam wanted more of her and removed her bra in one exquisite motion and took one of her perfectly, strawberry, pink nipples into his mouth teasing it with his tongue. Betty moaned and felt a surge of wetness between her legs as Sam's mouth moved to her other breast and his hands slid under her black pencil skirt.
Sam could feel Betty shudder with anticipatory delight as he pulled her white lace panties down her smooth, pale legs and knelt before her. Slowly he kissed his way up her perfect legs savoring her fragrance; it was an intoxicating blend of rose petals, golden amber, hypnotic incense, sparkling Riesling and feminine arousal. Sam was hit with a fresh bolt of lust as he placed gentle kisses along her inner thigh. He couldn't remember the last time he had wanted a woman so much. His encounters with Madison and Ruby were empty and regrettable. Betty was a world apart from either of them, she was sweet and soft, the sort of woman he believed would truly understand him. He gazed up into the deepening blue of her eyes and the look of utter trust she had in them nearly broke Sam's heart. A woman hadn't looked at him like that since Jess. He pushed away that memory; this was not the time to think of Jessica. As if she could read his mind Betty stroked her fingers gently through his hair brushing a stray lock out his eyes.
"It's ok." she said softly.
"We can stop if you think this is a -," she hesitated, "a mistake."
Sam felt instantly guilty at the slight quiver that crept into her voice at the end of the sentence. He probably should stop. He didn't know how he was going to be able to walk away from her after this, but he didn't want this to end, not like this. He didn't want to leave a woman this precious and beautiful feeling that she was anything less than perfect. Besides he needed her desperately and wanted to make sure she understood that. Sam stroked her cheek gently looking into her eyes.
"There is nothing about this that is a mistake." He said firmly, his voice deepened by the lust pulsing through his veins. "I don't want to stop, unless you do."
Betty was completely overwhelmed by the yearning in Sam's voice. He seemed so vulnerable there was no way that she could refuse him, and she didn't want to. Betty shook her head making her honey colored locks fall to her face. She let out a tiny nervous breath.
"Of course I don't want to stop," she paused, a slow blush painting her cheeks. "I know we just met but-," she looked away.
Betty was at a loss to express exactly what she was feeling for someone who was practically a stranger but felt so safe and familiar. She bit her lower lip struggling to find the right words, without sounding like a potential stalker.
Sam turned her face to peer once again onto the mesmerizing sea of blue that was her eyes.
"I know I feel it too," he cooed before lowering his head to taste her.
Betty quivered at the first touch of Sam's tongue against the sensitive pearl of her womanhood. Most of Betty's previous sexual encounters had been rather dull from her perspective. She'd honestly started to believe it was over-rated, except that now Sam was slowly, expertly, driving her towards ecstasy. She had no idea that anything could feel this good. Her moans of pleasure echoed through the empty library as Sam explored her more deeply. Betty could feel the heat building in her center, and knew that she would soon be teetering on the edge of bliss.
The sounds of Betty's exquisite pleasure were driving Sam insane and he knew he couldn't wait a moment longer to possess her. The noise of disappointment that Betty made when he pulled away did not escape his notice. He knew she must be close.
"Shhh," He soothed.
"Soon, I promise." He said sitting down in his chair and pulling her into his lap.
Carefully Sam guided her onto his straining masculinity. They both gasped when he was fully sheathed inside her. She was impossibly tight and hot, and he savored the sensation of being inside her before they began to move. Betty was impossibly radiant like this, with the platinum shine of the moon’s rays reflecting off her snow white skin she looked like an angel.
"So beautiful," Sam sighed before pulling her down to kiss her.
It was like he couldn't get enough of Betty. Sam kissed her until they were both breathless. He wished this would never end but he could tell from Betty's breathing that she was once again close to climax and so was he.
Betty's hands tightened on Sam's broad, manly shoulders as she fell into bliss. Gazing deeply into Sam's eyes as the shock waves of love moved through her, she cried out his name. The sight of his perfect angel reaching ecstasy and crying his name like it was a prayer was more than enough to push him over the edge. Betty collapsed into him resting her head on his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her burying his face in her blonde waves and inhaling the scent of lavender and rose. They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for a long moment, until Sam felt a slight dampness on his shoulder.
"Betty," he said softly, "are you okay?"
"I'm fine,” she said, trying to pull away.
Sam heard the faint quiver in her voice, and loosened their embrace only enough to look into her eyes. She looked down quickly.
"Look at me . . . please." Sam asked. His voice sounded worried and Betty didn't want that. She tried to blink away her tears as she looked him the eye.
"What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Sam was genuinely concerned; he didn't want to think about any harm coming to Betty.
Betty was touched by his concern. "No." She assured him, "it was perfect.'
She hesitated to voice her real concern. After all, she knew what she was getting into in the first place.
"Tell me." He coaxed her gently brushing a stray hair from her face.
She took a deep breath, to calm herself.
"I'm never going to see you again, am I?"
It sounded more like a statement than a question. Sam felt awful. He knew she deserved more and he wanted to give it to her. He hadn't been lying when he said he felt a connection with her. Suddenly the burden of being a Winchester, a hunter seemed heavier than ever before. He couldn't begin to find the words to comfort her.
'I'm sorry," he started.
"It's okay," Betty cut him off. "We should get out of here though."
Sam agreed, it was getting late and he would need to get on the road early tomorrow. They dressed in companionable silence. With Sam's help Betty quickly finished her shelving and soon they were standing in the pale moonlight on the library's stone steps. The moon’s silvery glow hid behind a cloud just as a shadow of abandonment crossed Betty’s heart.
"Can I drive you home?" Sam inquired. He was reluctant to end his time with Betty.
"My apartment is only a few blocks away," She said smiling up at him. "Besides it's nice out tonight. I'd rather walk."
"Do you mind if walk with you?"
Betty took his hand and they strolled slowly down the small town’s sidewalk, past the quiet picket fence lined patches of green, and under the centuries old oaks that shielded them from the sky, chatting the whole way. This was exactly the kind of life Sam wanted when he left for Stanford. It would just be so easy to stop and stay here, with Betty. That was impossible though, he could never abandon his beloved brother no matter what he was feeling for Betty.
In too short a time, they were outside of Betty's quaint Victorian era apartment building.
"Good bye Sam," she said turning to walk up the wooden front porch steps, “I hope you get your brother back."
She was on the top step when Sam called her name and took a deep breath before turning back around. The petite blonde was emotional and was hoping to get inside before she started crying. Betty turned to see him coming up the creaking steps toward her.
Sam couldn't let her go without being completely honest with her. He wrapped her in his arms and looked down into her eyes. He would never forget those ever-changing eyes, which were now violet, and how he felt when he was near her.
"If things work out with my brother, I promise I'll be back, because you are everything I have ever wanted."
The way that Sam kissed her, left no doubt in her mind as to the sincerity of his words. He held for a moment more before whispering a last goodbye in her ear, and placing a last kiss on her porcelain forehead.
Betty walked in to her lonely apartment, her cat Buttons was looking quite put out by her late return. She picked Buttons up and sat on the pink flowered taffeta couch that once belonged to her grandmother, petting her wondering if she would ever see Sam again. But even if she didn’t, she knew she would never forget this night or the powerful connection she felt with him.
Sam managed to make it all the way to the edge of town before a single tear slipped down his cheek as he thought of the perfect love he was leaving behind.