csi/supernatural - Between the Bars
Title: Between The Bars
Author: Liv
Rating: FRT
Fandom: Supernatural/CSI
Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester/Sofia Curtis, Sam Winchester, mentions of John, Catherine and Grissom
Warnings: For season 1 of Supernatural, general spoilers for CSI. Set during ‘Faith’.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters you see before you.
Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this for awhile and decided to make it into a series type thing. It’ll be fun, I promise.
It’s all the same between them. She’ll arrest him, he’ll tell her the case, and she’ll take care of the rest. Sometimes if the evidence doesn’t stand up to hold him she’ll take him with her, but most of the time he’s fine with letting her do the research and the breaking and entering. Hell, she’s got the badge that lets her. Sometimes it was easier when she was a CSI, because then he’d get first look at everything she’d collected. Sex on the big light-up evidence table was a plus too, but now that she’s a detective, she’s got handcuffs, and Dean’s a kinky bastard who’s only too happy to let his favorite blonde woman dominate him every once in a while. He always was a sucker for a blonde.
He’s never let her meet Sam. Or John. She’s never understood that, but she wasn’t pushing him to meet her mother anytime soon. She’s always been his contact, someone the other hunters didn’t have. Someone respectable and legitimate. She was on the speed dial in his phone. He only called her for business or pleasure, never if he really needed her. Never.
So when the detective looked down at the phone vibrating on her hip with the name ‘Winchester’ flashing across the screen, she flipped it open without a moments hesitation, and completely tuned out her colleagues.
“Curtis.”
“Sophie?” she frowned at the pet name. He used it when he was making fun of her, or leaving after a hunt. He’d never sounded so broken before, so weak and un-Dean-like.
“Dean?” she asked, a frown forming on her face, turning away from the Catherine and Nick as they stopped talking the case and focused on her. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Rawhead,” Sofia shut her eyes, she knew what that meant. Only one way to kill that thing. Dean chuckled weakly on the other end. “10k volts. Doctor’s say I got a month.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve given up,” said Sofia, trying to sound light, her voice cracking involuntarily. “That doesn’t sound like the high and mighty Dean Winchester I know.”
“I wanted to say goodbye. Hear your voice.”
“You’re going to get you ass kicked if you keep talking like that,” snapped Sofia, her voice rising slightly. She cleared her throat and glanced over her shoulder. “I gotta go, Dean.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
She had a feeling that he meant it in a more biblical sense, but she didn’t dwell on it. His phone could be traced and Archie owed her a favor.
.
It was eight hours later that Sofia pulled into the parking lot of the Notel Motel Archie had given her directions too. It was very…Dean. Yes. Very Dean. Sofia sighed up at the decrepit main lobby and decided to get it over and done with. She climbed out of her car, slammed the door, pressed the lock twice and adjusted the gun on her belt.
The man behind the counter glanced at her before turning back to the mini TV he had set up on his desk. Sofia raised an eyebrow and pulled her badge out of her back pocket. He turned back around at her movements.
“Hello? How can I help you?” Sofia flashed her badge at him, watching the color drain from his face.
“Jim Rockford, which room is he in?” asked Sofia, playing the cop angle. It was easier than playing any other card, and the quickest way to ensure that she got what she wanted. The man behind the counter sputtered for a moment, his eyes bouncing from her gun to her face, like he couldn’t believe this was happening to him in his dinky little motel. She raised an eyebrow and waited.
“Uh…er- level two, room 13.”
Sofia nodded her thanks and turned on her heel, pushing the door open with one hand and quickly striding to the designated room. She hadn’t noticed the Impala parked in front of the staircase leading to the second floor of the building and she stopped to run her hand over the hood of it. It was cold. He’d been there awhile. She swallowed back the fear that he might already be dead and headed up the stairs.
She didn’t know how fast her heart was beating until she paused in front of the door, her hand poised to knock. If he was dead, would she be able to handle that? Taking a breath she sucked it up, knocked twice and waited. And waited. And knocked again.
Just when she was about to break it down herself she heard the scrape of the lock being removed and the door opening. She expected Dean, hell, she even expected John, what she did not expect was to see a gun in her face and a very tall man holding it on the other side of the door. Sofia had her gun out before the door was halfway open.
“Sofia?” they both frowned. The taller man turning to look at someone over his shoulder. There was a grunt and some movement before Dean pushed the other man out of the way, leaning against the doorframe for support.
“Dean,” he looked awful, and her voice sounded pained, even to her ears. He managed to smile at her, though it looked like more of a flinch.
“You know her, Dean?”
“Yeah. Sammy this is Sofia Curtis,” so this was Dean’s little brother. She replaced her gun on her hip and reached out to place her hands on Dean, just in case he fell over.
“Never heard of her,” said Sam, and Sofia heard the mistrust in his voice. Dean rolled his eyes at him the best he could before tossing and arm over Sofia’s shoulders and leaning into her.
“She’s a friend.”
Sofia and Sam snorted simultaneously. Dean shot them each looks.
“Alright, she’s more than that. But she is my friend.”
Sofia ignored him. “Why aren’t you in a hospital? You look like hell.”
“I’m not going to die in a hospital where the nurses aren’t even hot.”
“You’re not going to die period,” snapped Sam. Sofia looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.
“You got a voodoo priest to lay some mojo on him or something?” asked Sofia so seriously Sam took a step back. She felt Dean chuckle.
“Yeah, she’s a part time hunter, Sam.”
“Damn,” muttered Sam. He stumbled for a moment, trying to compose himself, walking back into the motel room and picking up what looked like a journal. “I, ah…well, I did find something.”
“Dude, no-”
“What is it?” asked Sofia, practically dragging Dean back inside and depositing him on the bed he’d been on before. He winced as he sat down, his hand sliding down Sofia’s back as she straightened up. It lingered on her hip as Sam turned back around, handing her the journal. She scanned it quickly, her eyes lighting up.
“He’s a specialist,” said Sam. Sofia looked up at him.
“Let’s do it.”
“You are not going with us,” snapped Dean, probably with more force than he meant too. Sofia looked down at him and gave him a look.
“Try and stop me, Winchester.”
“Don’t you, ya know…have detective-y things to do?”
Sam head snapped back to Sofia. “You’re a cop?”
“She’s a detective,” said Dean. “Worked as a CSI too. Why do you think I’m so fantastic with law enforcement?”
Sofia snorted. “Oh, please. If it weren’t for me my coworkers would have shot you a long time ago.”
“That hurts, Sophie.”
“So,” started Sofia, ignoring Dean and turning back to Sam. “Where is this place?”
.
“The middle of friggin’ nowhere, that‘s where it is,” Dean muttered under his breath as Sam pulled into a parking spot near a white tent crowded with people. Sofia narrowed her eyes warily at the scene in front of her. This wasn’t her kind of thing and it defiantly wasn’t Dean’s. With a glance at Sam she climbed out of the backseat , pulling Dean along with her. He continued grumbling.
“Man, you lying bastard,” growled Dean as Sam walked around the car to help Sofia. “You said we were going to see a doctor.”
“I believe I said specialist.”
“I can’t believe you brought me to some guy who heals people out of a tent!” he turned his glare on Sofia. “And I can’t believe you let him!”
“Reverend LeGrange is a great man,” said some woman who happened to overhear them. Dean rolled his eyes.
“Yeah whatever.”
“Be optimistic,” said Sofia. “Or I’ll make you.”
Dean just grimaced and leaned more heavily on her. Sam and Sofia all but dragged him into the tent, depositing him in a seat near the front. Sam sat next to him, while Sofia remained standing, her hands on her hips, giving Dean a pointed look, saying if he even thought about sneaking off, his ass would acquaint itself with her foot.
People were still filing in, some very sick, most of them very old. It wasn’t even halfway full yet. Sofia sat down after a while, dropping her hand on top of Dean’s and linking her fingers through his. He seemed to enjoy the contact, because he didn’t let go. Sam noticed.
“Seriously, why haven’t you even told me about her?” asked Sam quietly, leaning forward. Dean shrugged.
“Dad wouldn’t have liked her,” was all he said. Sofia frowned at his answer.
“It’s not like we’re getting married or anything,” said Sofia. “I’m fine with the fact that I’ve never met your family, but you’ve never even mentioned me?”
“Does it sting?” asked Dean, his tone teasing. Sofia flicked him on the ear.
“Does that sting?”
“Ow!”
“You’re like children,” said Sam, shaking his head at them. Sofia raised and eyebrow.
“Me? Cop. You? Fugitive,” Sam’s mouth dropped.
“You know about that?”
“Man, she knows everything.”
“You know you totally screwed us over, right?”
“She’s not gonna turn us in, Sam!”
“Why the hell not?”
“She loves me too much,” Dean shot Sam a shit-eating grin, while Sofia just rolled her eyes at the incredulous look on Sam’s face. Dean caught it. “Well you do!”
“Which is why we’re here, because I love you,” Dean’s eyes narrowed at her smug look, watching as she settled back in her chair, staring straight ahead and not saying another word until the ‘show’ started.
Sofia shifted when LeGrange focused his attention on Dean. She didn’t like the way the man saw him, but didn’t really. Even worse was the way his wife was shifting uncomfortably, looking suspicious. But all that was forgotten when the preached put his hand on Dean’s face and Dean went down. She was out of her chair before Sam had time to react, her hands on Dean’s shoulders as he stared up at something… something. Sam was at her side seconds later, urgent and concerned.
Two near deaths, a psychotic dead woman and some black magic later had the three of them driving out of the middle of nowhere and back to Las Vegas. She got a call thirty minutes from the city about a dead body in a Motel 6 and told Dean to pull over up next to the pretty lights because she has to catch evil too.
Sam look nervous, but got out of the car anyways when Sofia told him it would be fine. Dean was already pressed into her back, his hand sliding lazily over her shoulder while Sofia introduced the Winchesters to some coworkers of her. Not their real names, because that would just be stupid and Sam was nervous enough already.
Before Dave could even tell her what the homicide was Dean was pulling her around to face him, his eyes tired, his hands pressed into her hips.
“I love you, Dean, you know that right?” said Sofia softly, sliding her arms around Dean’s shoulders, holding him to her. Sam coughed uncomfortably and looked pointedly away, pretending to enjoy the sights, while Grissom and Catherine just stared at her dumfounded, not bothering to hide their curiosity. Dean slid his hands up her back, resting them on her shoulders and pressing his face into her hair.
“I love you too, Sophie,” his breath brushed her ear and she shut her eyes, breathing him in. She had forgotten how safe she always felt with him.
“Next time you call me you better not be dying,” she murmured, giving him one last squeeze and pulling away. Dean’s hands lingered near her breasts, his eyes burning holes in her as his gaze swept her up and down, taking her in.
“Promise.”
And when he showed up at her apartment six months later, his eyes red from crying, his hair sticking to his scalp from the rain, she thought he had lied to her and he was here to tell her that he was dying again. But he didn’t, all he did was walk into her apartment, pulling off his leather jacket and tossing it to the side. His eyes were hungry as they ranked down her body, clad in a pair of dark blue sweat pants and a white t-shirt and he pulled her into his chest, kissing her hard and kicking the door closed behind him. His mouth devoured hers and she didn’t bother asking what had happened as she pulled his wet shirt off of him, unbuckling his belt and letting him take her against the door he’d shut.
She held him hours later, her fingers running though his hair, listening him talk about his father, his mother, Sam. She listened because that was what he needed from her. He told her he loved her, even though he didn’t deserve to be happy, with the things he’d done. He asked her to go with him, even though he’d asked her a hundred times before. He fell asleep nuzzling her neck, his fingers curling around the ends of her hair, keeping her close.
Never wanting to let her go.
Author: Liv
Rating: FRT
Fandom: Supernatural/CSI
Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester/Sofia Curtis, Sam Winchester, mentions of John, Catherine and Grissom
Warnings: For season 1 of Supernatural, general spoilers for CSI. Set during ‘Faith’.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters you see before you.
Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this for awhile and decided to make it into a series type thing. It’ll be fun, I promise.
It’s all the same between them. She’ll arrest him, he’ll tell her the case, and she’ll take care of the rest. Sometimes if the evidence doesn’t stand up to hold him she’ll take him with her, but most of the time he’s fine with letting her do the research and the breaking and entering. Hell, she’s got the badge that lets her. Sometimes it was easier when she was a CSI, because then he’d get first look at everything she’d collected. Sex on the big light-up evidence table was a plus too, but now that she’s a detective, she’s got handcuffs, and Dean’s a kinky bastard who’s only too happy to let his favorite blonde woman dominate him every once in a while. He always was a sucker for a blonde.
He’s never let her meet Sam. Or John. She’s never understood that, but she wasn’t pushing him to meet her mother anytime soon. She’s always been his contact, someone the other hunters didn’t have. Someone respectable and legitimate. She was on the speed dial in his phone. He only called her for business or pleasure, never if he really needed her. Never.
So when the detective looked down at the phone vibrating on her hip with the name ‘Winchester’ flashing across the screen, she flipped it open without a moments hesitation, and completely tuned out her colleagues.
“Curtis.”
“Sophie?” she frowned at the pet name. He used it when he was making fun of her, or leaving after a hunt. He’d never sounded so broken before, so weak and un-Dean-like.
“Dean?” she asked, a frown forming on her face, turning away from the Catherine and Nick as they stopped talking the case and focused on her. “Honey, what’s wrong?”
“Rawhead,” Sofia shut her eyes, she knew what that meant. Only one way to kill that thing. Dean chuckled weakly on the other end. “10k volts. Doctor’s say I got a month.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve given up,” said Sofia, trying to sound light, her voice cracking involuntarily. “That doesn’t sound like the high and mighty Dean Winchester I know.”
“I wanted to say goodbye. Hear your voice.”
“You’re going to get you ass kicked if you keep talking like that,” snapped Sofia, her voice rising slightly. She cleared her throat and glanced over her shoulder. “I gotta go, Dean.”
“Yeah. Me too.”
She had a feeling that he meant it in a more biblical sense, but she didn’t dwell on it. His phone could be traced and Archie owed her a favor.
.
It was eight hours later that Sofia pulled into the parking lot of the Notel Motel Archie had given her directions too. It was very…Dean. Yes. Very Dean. Sofia sighed up at the decrepit main lobby and decided to get it over and done with. She climbed out of her car, slammed the door, pressed the lock twice and adjusted the gun on her belt.
The man behind the counter glanced at her before turning back to the mini TV he had set up on his desk. Sofia raised an eyebrow and pulled her badge out of her back pocket. He turned back around at her movements.
“Hello? How can I help you?” Sofia flashed her badge at him, watching the color drain from his face.
“Jim Rockford, which room is he in?” asked Sofia, playing the cop angle. It was easier than playing any other card, and the quickest way to ensure that she got what she wanted. The man behind the counter sputtered for a moment, his eyes bouncing from her gun to her face, like he couldn’t believe this was happening to him in his dinky little motel. She raised an eyebrow and waited.
“Uh…er- level two, room 13.”
Sofia nodded her thanks and turned on her heel, pushing the door open with one hand and quickly striding to the designated room. She hadn’t noticed the Impala parked in front of the staircase leading to the second floor of the building and she stopped to run her hand over the hood of it. It was cold. He’d been there awhile. She swallowed back the fear that he might already be dead and headed up the stairs.
She didn’t know how fast her heart was beating until she paused in front of the door, her hand poised to knock. If he was dead, would she be able to handle that? Taking a breath she sucked it up, knocked twice and waited. And waited. And knocked again.
Just when she was about to break it down herself she heard the scrape of the lock being removed and the door opening. She expected Dean, hell, she even expected John, what she did not expect was to see a gun in her face and a very tall man holding it on the other side of the door. Sofia had her gun out before the door was halfway open.
“Sofia?” they both frowned. The taller man turning to look at someone over his shoulder. There was a grunt and some movement before Dean pushed the other man out of the way, leaning against the doorframe for support.
“Dean,” he looked awful, and her voice sounded pained, even to her ears. He managed to smile at her, though it looked like more of a flinch.
“You know her, Dean?”
“Yeah. Sammy this is Sofia Curtis,” so this was Dean’s little brother. She replaced her gun on her hip and reached out to place her hands on Dean, just in case he fell over.
“Never heard of her,” said Sam, and Sofia heard the mistrust in his voice. Dean rolled his eyes at him the best he could before tossing and arm over Sofia’s shoulders and leaning into her.
“She’s a friend.”
Sofia and Sam snorted simultaneously. Dean shot them each looks.
“Alright, she’s more than that. But she is my friend.”
Sofia ignored him. “Why aren’t you in a hospital? You look like hell.”
“I’m not going to die in a hospital where the nurses aren’t even hot.”
“You’re not going to die period,” snapped Sam. Sofia looked up at him, raising an eyebrow.
“You got a voodoo priest to lay some mojo on him or something?” asked Sofia so seriously Sam took a step back. She felt Dean chuckle.
“Yeah, she’s a part time hunter, Sam.”
“Damn,” muttered Sam. He stumbled for a moment, trying to compose himself, walking back into the motel room and picking up what looked like a journal. “I, ah…well, I did find something.”
“Dude, no-”
“What is it?” asked Sofia, practically dragging Dean back inside and depositing him on the bed he’d been on before. He winced as he sat down, his hand sliding down Sofia’s back as she straightened up. It lingered on her hip as Sam turned back around, handing her the journal. She scanned it quickly, her eyes lighting up.
“He’s a specialist,” said Sam. Sofia looked up at him.
“Let’s do it.”
“You are not going with us,” snapped Dean, probably with more force than he meant too. Sofia looked down at him and gave him a look.
“Try and stop me, Winchester.”
“Don’t you, ya know…have detective-y things to do?”
Sam head snapped back to Sofia. “You’re a cop?”
“She’s a detective,” said Dean. “Worked as a CSI too. Why do you think I’m so fantastic with law enforcement?”
Sofia snorted. “Oh, please. If it weren’t for me my coworkers would have shot you a long time ago.”
“That hurts, Sophie.”
“So,” started Sofia, ignoring Dean and turning back to Sam. “Where is this place?”
.
“The middle of friggin’ nowhere, that‘s where it is,” Dean muttered under his breath as Sam pulled into a parking spot near a white tent crowded with people. Sofia narrowed her eyes warily at the scene in front of her. This wasn’t her kind of thing and it defiantly wasn’t Dean’s. With a glance at Sam she climbed out of the backseat , pulling Dean along with her. He continued grumbling.
“Man, you lying bastard,” growled Dean as Sam walked around the car to help Sofia. “You said we were going to see a doctor.”
“I believe I said specialist.”
“I can’t believe you brought me to some guy who heals people out of a tent!” he turned his glare on Sofia. “And I can’t believe you let him!”
“Reverend LeGrange is a great man,” said some woman who happened to overhear them. Dean rolled his eyes.
“Yeah whatever.”
“Be optimistic,” said Sofia. “Or I’ll make you.”
Dean just grimaced and leaned more heavily on her. Sam and Sofia all but dragged him into the tent, depositing him in a seat near the front. Sam sat next to him, while Sofia remained standing, her hands on her hips, giving Dean a pointed look, saying if he even thought about sneaking off, his ass would acquaint itself with her foot.
People were still filing in, some very sick, most of them very old. It wasn’t even halfway full yet. Sofia sat down after a while, dropping her hand on top of Dean’s and linking her fingers through his. He seemed to enjoy the contact, because he didn’t let go. Sam noticed.
“Seriously, why haven’t you even told me about her?” asked Sam quietly, leaning forward. Dean shrugged.
“Dad wouldn’t have liked her,” was all he said. Sofia frowned at his answer.
“It’s not like we’re getting married or anything,” said Sofia. “I’m fine with the fact that I’ve never met your family, but you’ve never even mentioned me?”
“Does it sting?” asked Dean, his tone teasing. Sofia flicked him on the ear.
“Does that sting?”
“Ow!”
“You’re like children,” said Sam, shaking his head at them. Sofia raised and eyebrow.
“Me? Cop. You? Fugitive,” Sam’s mouth dropped.
“You know about that?”
“Man, she knows everything.”
“You know you totally screwed us over, right?”
“She’s not gonna turn us in, Sam!”
“Why the hell not?”
“She loves me too much,” Dean shot Sam a shit-eating grin, while Sofia just rolled her eyes at the incredulous look on Sam’s face. Dean caught it. “Well you do!”
“Which is why we’re here, because I love you,” Dean’s eyes narrowed at her smug look, watching as she settled back in her chair, staring straight ahead and not saying another word until the ‘show’ started.
Sofia shifted when LeGrange focused his attention on Dean. She didn’t like the way the man saw him, but didn’t really. Even worse was the way his wife was shifting uncomfortably, looking suspicious. But all that was forgotten when the preached put his hand on Dean’s face and Dean went down. She was out of her chair before Sam had time to react, her hands on Dean’s shoulders as he stared up at something… something. Sam was at her side seconds later, urgent and concerned.
Two near deaths, a psychotic dead woman and some black magic later had the three of them driving out of the middle of nowhere and back to Las Vegas. She got a call thirty minutes from the city about a dead body in a Motel 6 and told Dean to pull over up next to the pretty lights because she has to catch evil too.
Sam look nervous, but got out of the car anyways when Sofia told him it would be fine. Dean was already pressed into her back, his hand sliding lazily over her shoulder while Sofia introduced the Winchesters to some coworkers of her. Not their real names, because that would just be stupid and Sam was nervous enough already.
Before Dave could even tell her what the homicide was Dean was pulling her around to face him, his eyes tired, his hands pressed into her hips.
“I love you, Dean, you know that right?” said Sofia softly, sliding her arms around Dean’s shoulders, holding him to her. Sam coughed uncomfortably and looked pointedly away, pretending to enjoy the sights, while Grissom and Catherine just stared at her dumfounded, not bothering to hide their curiosity. Dean slid his hands up her back, resting them on her shoulders and pressing his face into her hair.
“I love you too, Sophie,” his breath brushed her ear and she shut her eyes, breathing him in. She had forgotten how safe she always felt with him.
“Next time you call me you better not be dying,” she murmured, giving him one last squeeze and pulling away. Dean’s hands lingered near her breasts, his eyes burning holes in her as his gaze swept her up and down, taking her in.
“Promise.”
And when he showed up at her apartment six months later, his eyes red from crying, his hair sticking to his scalp from the rain, she thought he had lied to her and he was here to tell her that he was dying again. But he didn’t, all he did was walk into her apartment, pulling off his leather jacket and tossing it to the side. His eyes were hungry as they ranked down her body, clad in a pair of dark blue sweat pants and a white t-shirt and he pulled her into his chest, kissing her hard and kicking the door closed behind him. His mouth devoured hers and she didn’t bother asking what had happened as she pulled his wet shirt off of him, unbuckling his belt and letting him take her against the door he’d shut.
She held him hours later, her fingers running though his hair, listening him talk about his father, his mother, Sam. She listened because that was what he needed from her. He told her he loved her, even though he didn’t deserve to be happy, with the things he’d done. He asked her to go with him, even though he’d asked her a hundred times before. He fell asleep nuzzling her neck, his fingers curling around the ends of her hair, keeping her close.
Never wanting to let her go.