SPN FANFIC: Character Bleed
Title: Character Bleed
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating/Warnings: ****SPOILERS for 6.15 BEYOND THIS POINT! Scroll past now!****
....GEN, with Het references, PG-13, missing scene, "RPF" crossover per the episode.
Word Count: Not many.
Characters: Sam, Genevieve
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: She leads him up the stairs aaaand...
A/N: Well, someone had to write it.
-
Character Bleed
by CaffieneKitty
-
Firstly, it was weird.
Secondly, Ruby- Genevieve (does no one in this world have a simple name?) was married and Sam was very much not her husband, and she didn't know that. Doing anything with her would be wrong on so many levels. Sam knew that fully, even without the memory of Constance Welch sitting on him and groping his heart to death for infidelity he hadn't even committed.
Thirdly, the last time he was in a bed with this person, or someone who looked exactly like her (his head hurt), Sam was drinking her blood. The last time he held that same person in his arms, he was holding her still so his brother could stab her to death.
Fourthly, it was frigging weird.
Genevieve- Gen towed him up the stairs and down the hall into another incomprehensible room, this one full of bed (which was some kind of monster-size thing big enough for Sam to sprawl on at least twice over and puffed up like a storm cloud made of tasteful blue satin). She dropped his hand and stood next to the bed with an impish tilt to her hips, smirking. Sam had a visceral flashback of the taste of demon blood and swallowed hard.
Genevieve frowned and tilted her head. "Something wrong?"
Sam felt nauseous. "Uhhh... I..." God. "I'm just. I mean..."
Gen sat suddenly on the bed, deep blue fluffy satiny comforter-thing billowing out around her on impact. "What is up with you, Jared? You blew off the otter fundraiser to hang out with Jensen and drink, and now-"
"Look, yeah. About the otter thing." Sam scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I'm really sorry about that, and I wanted to, y'know, make it up to you."
"Oh, really?" Genevieve purred, leaning back onto her arms on the bed. Her lewdly playful expression was so like Ruby's -- hell, it was Ruby's -- that Sam stumbled back a step.
"No! Not like that, I mean... Uh." Sam looked around the room in panic, eyes lighting on a basket of scented oils on the counter in the ensuite bathroom. "FOOTRUB!"
Gen jumped and blinked.
"Sorry, that was loud. Footrub." Sam pointed to the strappy high-heeled shoes she was wearing. "I'll rub your feet! Those shoes must be killers."
"Oh yeah? I suppose it's a start..." Gen smirked wickedly. "What else are you gonna rub?"
Sam swallowed hard again.
-
Three hours later, the technical term for Genevieve's state was 'puddle of goo'; she drooled into the pillows and snored lightly. Her feet, calves, shoulders and arms gleamed with the faint sheen of (earth and farmer friendly) oils from exotic locales Sam wasn't sure even had a Wikipedia entry. His hands felt like they were three feet thick and on fire.
Worth it though. He and Dean were already messing up this Pada-whatsis guy's life enough by making his co-workers think he was nuts and maxing his ridiculous credit limit buying holy relics on eBay. The least Sam could do is not take advantage of his unknowing wife.
Sam pulled a comforter over the sleeping actress and crept quietly out of the room, flicking off the light as he closed the door to the soft sound of feminine snoring.
- - -
(that's all.)
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating/Warnings: ****SPOILERS for 6.15 BEYOND THIS POINT! Scroll past now!****
....GEN, with Het references, PG-13, missing scene, "RPF" crossover per the episode.
Word Count: Not many.
Characters: Sam, Genevieve
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Summary: She leads him up the stairs aaaand...
A/N: Well, someone had to write it.
-
Character Bleed
by CaffieneKitty
-
Firstly, it was weird.
Secondly, Ruby- Genevieve (does no one in this world have a simple name?) was married and Sam was very much not her husband, and she didn't know that. Doing anything with her would be wrong on so many levels. Sam knew that fully, even without the memory of Constance Welch sitting on him and groping his heart to death for infidelity he hadn't even committed.
Thirdly, the last time he was in a bed with this person, or someone who looked exactly like her (his head hurt), Sam was drinking her blood. The last time he held that same person in his arms, he was holding her still so his brother could stab her to death.
Fourthly, it was frigging weird.
Genevieve- Gen towed him up the stairs and down the hall into another incomprehensible room, this one full of bed (which was some kind of monster-size thing big enough for Sam to sprawl on at least twice over and puffed up like a storm cloud made of tasteful blue satin). She dropped his hand and stood next to the bed with an impish tilt to her hips, smirking. Sam had a visceral flashback of the taste of demon blood and swallowed hard.
Genevieve frowned and tilted her head. "Something wrong?"
Sam felt nauseous. "Uhhh... I..." God. "I'm just. I mean..."
Gen sat suddenly on the bed, deep blue fluffy satiny comforter-thing billowing out around her on impact. "What is up with you, Jared? You blew off the otter fundraiser to hang out with Jensen and drink, and now-"
"Look, yeah. About the otter thing." Sam scrubbed a hand through his hair. "I'm really sorry about that, and I wanted to, y'know, make it up to you."
"Oh, really?" Genevieve purred, leaning back onto her arms on the bed. Her lewdly playful expression was so like Ruby's -- hell, it was Ruby's -- that Sam stumbled back a step.
"No! Not like that, I mean... Uh." Sam looked around the room in panic, eyes lighting on a basket of scented oils on the counter in the ensuite bathroom. "FOOTRUB!"
Gen jumped and blinked.
"Sorry, that was loud. Footrub." Sam pointed to the strappy high-heeled shoes she was wearing. "I'll rub your feet! Those shoes must be killers."
"Oh yeah? I suppose it's a start..." Gen smirked wickedly. "What else are you gonna rub?"
Sam swallowed hard again.
-
Three hours later, the technical term for Genevieve's state was 'puddle of goo'; she drooled into the pillows and snored lightly. Her feet, calves, shoulders and arms gleamed with the faint sheen of (earth and farmer friendly) oils from exotic locales Sam wasn't sure even had a Wikipedia entry. His hands felt like they were three feet thick and on fire.
Worth it though. He and Dean were already messing up this Pada-whatsis guy's life enough by making his co-workers think he was nuts and maxing his ridiculous credit limit buying holy relics on eBay. The least Sam could do is not take advantage of his unknowing wife.
Sam pulled a comforter over the sleeping actress and crept quietly out of the room, flicking off the light as he closed the door to the soft sound of feminine snoring.
- - -
(that's all.)