Taming A Jaguar Chapter Seven pt. 1 (Dean/Castiel)
Title - Taming A Jaguar Chapter Seven pt. 1
Disclaimer - Don't own any of the characters, I just lock myself in my room and make them bend to my muse's will.
Rating - M ladies and gents, enjoy.
Word Count - 8,400
Warning - Gender!swap. Werewolf!AU. Eventually there will be smexy times of every type. There will also eventually be attempted sexual assault but not between the main couple. Also major character death more than once.
Summary - Using his second chance at life Castiel Novak comes back from Hell twenty years after his death to find his soul mate, the last face to swim before his eyes, the stranger than mourned the end of a werewolf's life. Unfortunately Adeana Winchester hunts his kind and is so far down the road of hatred it will take all the power Castiel has gained in his afterlife and all his charms to sway the hunter's stubborn point of view.
Back to Chapter Six pt. 2!
“Sorry Dean you’ve been flagged,” Bobby the usually-nice lady behind the desk (whose purpose was to take paperwork) apologized.
Dean had been trying to submit her vacation in-house and now this shit. “Flagged for what?”
“I have to call,” Bobby gave an inelegant one-armed shrug.
“I only smoked a little pot,” Dean joked. “No work impairment I swear.”
“What? Oh that’s not funny Dean,” Bobby gasped as Dean laughed. Bobby started murmuring to the man on the other end of her line while Dean wondered if she should have stopped by the mandatory medical check-up Lumberjack big-wigs got picky about.
“Yes I’ll tell her,” Bobby hung up. “Orders are ya stay here ‘nd wait for agents to escort you.”
“Son of a bitch,” Dean grumbled throwing her hands up. “So how are the cats?”
“They’re at the point where they want nothin’ ta do with Jody. Poor girl still feels motherly,” Bobby fondly described the stray pregnant calico she’d adopted a few months back at Dean’s suggestion. “There out huntin’ the expanse of their house.”
Bobby was the only person Dean had met that bought a house for her cats; well Dean herself had bought her house for a cat. Bigger house bigger cat.
Dean looked up as the door opened to see one of the few Lumberjacks she really never wanted to see peek his head inside. “Get yer ass in gear Little Fucking Red Bitch!” He taunted pulling his Colt.
The only thing that kept Dean from drawing her sword and lopping off his hands was Bobby who had at some point between Dean’s glance at the doorway pulled a shotgun from somewhere beneath her desk. “I suggest ya take a step ‘r two back outta my office sir.”
Dean grinned as she walked out past Bobby and the older woman gave her a wink. “See you later.”
“I’ll keep your request until ya get back,” Bobby promised as the shotgun disappeared under her desk.
Dean followed Alistair Heyerdahl as he led her down the hallway. Alistair was a good friend of Samantha, one of the crowd of older Lumberjacks. They stuck together and were all of the opinion that they were all better than the younger members (even if that member happened to be a kin).
“You think you’re better than everyone else?” Alistair asked as he paused to wait for the elevator.
Most Lumberjack bases were hidden in large estates, most of the action taking pace below ground. The above-ground structure was where the more mundane business took place.
“Just you Heyerdahl,” Dean murmured off-handedly her mind was wandering and the destination wasn’t surprising. I wonder what Castiel’s doing...
“In your dreams woman,” Alistair sneered.
“You’re not allowed in my dreams Heyerdahl you don’t meet the qualifications,” Dean stepped into the elevator and entered her personal pin number. At her code the elevator controls were revealed from under a metal panel. She flipped Alistair off and gave him a sweet smile, “Dick has to be bigger than this.”
Alistair glared at her as the elevator doors closed and he pushed the button to descend. “I could be hung like a porn star and it’d still be like fucking a train tunnel.”
Dean rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest, “Speaking of...How’s Rachel by the way?”
Rachel Heyerdahl (Alistair’s only daughter) had just finished training and was doing the family name good with her work. Rachel had decided to reserve professional judgment on Dean until they worked together since they were friends from long ago when they’d gone to Lumberjack Summer Camp together. Although most of them had younger kids in the Order the older clique hadn’t yet succeeded in continuing the Dean-hating tradition.
“Watch your mouth slut,” Alistair snapped.
“Take your own advice bitch,” Dean didn’t hesitate a moment when the elevator doors opened she stepped through them and headed for the medical wing.
The main triage center was lined with medical beds, the lighting stark white but soft much like the bedding that swathed each narrow resting place. They were all empty save one.
“Long time no see,” Ellen Harvelle said from a bed as Dean walked in.
“What are you doing in here?” Dean asked the Lumberjack with concern she was the only older member that didn’t despise her.
“They’re starting injections,” Ellen shrugged. “I’m just lucky enough to be the first to have a bad reaction to the serum.”
“I didn’t realize how far along it was,” Dean looked over her shoulder as Alistair entered the room.
“Daily injections until it builds up enough in the system, then once a month,” Another voice explained emerging from one of the only open adjoining doors along the opposite wall. A few moments later Kevin Tran, doctor to the Lumberjacks, appeared.
The Strength Serum had been in development stages for years. “It’s ready?”
“We’ve done all the testing we can without injecting humans,” Kevin nodded. “So far Harvelle here is the only patient with side effects.”
“Lucky me,” Ellen shrugged looking haggard and pale. “Looks like I won’t be retiring my power suit anytime soon.”
“To be honest for some Lumberjacks the serum won’t take...But we’ll have to take each of them on a case-by-case basis to muddle through their specific problem.”
“Or you could just put down some of the ornery old cusses like you,” Dean said pleasantly to Alistair.
Ellen laughed and applauded while Alistair fumed and narrowed his eyes at the both of them. Dean held her hands up and tried to cover a flinch as a precognitive flash of Alistair drawing his gun angrily on her blinked before her eyes.
She noticed the covert caress Alistair delivered his favorite gun strapped across his chest in a very obvious way, and couldn’t keep herself from reaching out to cover the gun with her hand. The very second her fingertips came into contact over the man’s hand however Dean felt her tattoo started itching along the top of her eye and it only took a second for Alistair to notice after she touched his gun.
“What the fuck?” Alistair stepped back and had his gun drawn, his eyes darting around the room in a split second.
Just as soon as the itch appeared it faded and apparently the color had flared as well since they’d noticed it. “What the hell was that?” Dean yelled at Kevin whose eyes were still staring wide-eyed at her.
“My mark wasn’t triggered,” Kevin lifted his left hand where apparently his mark usually flared to life.
Both Ellen and Alistair confirmed that their tattoos hadn’t done so-much as itch. “See! I need a damn break even my mark is exhausted!”
Kevin placed a hand on Dean’s shoulders, turned her away from him and promptly marched her into a private exam room. “When the system notified me about your arrival it said you were finally putting in for vacation.”
Although Dean had never set foot in the medical wing (except for mandatory examinations) Kevin still monitored anything that fell under the general subject of health for all the Lumberjacks in the sector. “I’m fucking fried Kevin. I want to go home and sleep for two months,” Dean shrugged his hands off, lycanthropes were into touch but she had developed a standoffish persona that helped keep people off her back (a necessity with so many friends of Samantha).
“Paperwork said you were putting in for six months,” Kevin paused to pick up a nearby tablet computer (he was hardly ever without one in his clutches) no doubt he was rechecking.
“Possibly six months. That all depends on how good a night’s sleep I get,” Dean shrugged again.
“Maybe if you came in more than one check-up a year,” Kevin had closed the door and Dean jumped up to sit on the exam table.
“I eat healthy, I don’t like hospitals and I don’t want to be around them if I don’t have to,” Dean reminded him nonchalantly; it was a conversation they rehashed almost every time they saw each other. Lycanthropes were immune to sickness, even when the strain of the disease was born to someone naturally it never shared the body with a single other malady.
“I’ve seen your food expense sheet,” Kevin murmured in an offhand fashion as he looked through a collection of bottles in a small case. “You do eat healthy not to mention like a horse.”
“Why do I feel like this conversation has more to do with something bigger than a check up,” Dean had to have confirmation. “Or you’re a stalker. Which one?”
“Funny,” Kevin took a syringe full of something from one of bottles he selected. “This is just the first of-on average-twenty-eight injections,” Kevin straightened her arm and swabbed a spot on her upper arm.
“Twenty-eight?” Dean didn’t fake the grimace as Kevin inserted the syringe and depressed the plunger -- it wasn’t painful - the Lumberjack just hated needles. He pressed a cotton swab to the puncture giving Dean a meaningful look that she silently obeyed, lifting her other hand to hold it in place as he returned to the counter across the room.
“Some only needed fourteen, one a day,” Kevin closed the small case of bottles with one hand as he disposed of the used syringe. “Enjoy your vacation.”
“Thank I guess,” Dean looked at him as he held out the case. “What?”
“I know better than to try to get a Lumberjack-never mind who you are-to come in dutifully every day. I understand that you’re responsible enough to take a shot when you need to,” Kevin snapped the silver latch closed and held out the case to her. “Do you need another case of vaccine?”
“I have plenty,” Dean shook her head. The Lumberjacks had a vaccine that proved safety against Lycanthrope as long as it was taken before a wound. It didn’t give permanent protection so each Lumberjack was given an allotment and Dean’s was sitting in her bathroom cabinet gathering dust. She only kept a box in case she needed someone to see it on purpose.
“Don’t stretch it Dean!” It was obvious from the instant rise in his ire that Kevin was keeping track of her ratio of missions to supply of vaccine. “I’ve lost plenty a good Lumberjack because they don’t take the injections as they need them.”
The vaccine worked through the system and lost effectiveness in six hours on a regular Lumberjack and lots of them tried stretching it out for some reason or another; fear of needles, bad ass attitude or even just forgetfulness. “I’m not.”
“All right,” Kevin gave her a hard stare as he nodded. “Inject the serum once a day. All I ask is that you come in after two weeks to see if you need further injections,” Kevin moved to open the door. “Charlie has been notified to monitor you to make sure you don’t have harmful side effects.”
Dean hadn’t planned on spending much time around Charlie during her vacation. She turned her face away as the events of early this morning came back to her and she tried not to blush.
“Dean,” Kevin pulled the door closed again but leaned on the knob. “Samantha has started saying...”
“Son of a bitch,” Dean looked heavenward before meeting the doctor’s gaze.
“You’re shacking up with someone,” Kevin continued unabated. “Must be something to the rumor if you’ve finally taken all your vacation.”
“Are you feeding the rumor mill?”
Shaking his head Kevin gently reminded her, “Doctor/Patient confidentiality.”
“He’s a friend of mine that needs my help,” Dean said truthfully, knowing that even that agreement ended when the patient became infected with lycanthrope.
“I can’t let you take that vacation if I know you’re using it to go do freelance work,” Kevin looked disappointed. “Too dangerous.”
“Not Lumberjack help,” Dean shook her head at the partial lie. “A regular woman’s perspective, my friendship.”
“And?” Kevin looked at her with one eye narrowed.
“I suppose my Lumberjack training will help protect him since he doesn’t really know the neighborhood.”
With a small exasperated sigh Kevin stopped beating around the bush, “So you’re sexually active?”
Of all the people that heard the vicious rumors Samantha spread about her; her doctor Kevin knew better even if she didn’t come in to visit as much as the others.
“Define “active”?”
“More than none,” Kevin shook his head taking that for an answer in and of itself. “You’ll need to--”
“I’m fine,” Dean hopped down from the table and deposited the perfunctory cotton swab into the trash (the wound had probably healed the instant Kevin had removed the needle). Castiel wouldn’t be passing any sickness to her. Lycanthrope was always the big bad.
“You get a check-up every year,” Kevin objected.
“I already do. How about I come back in two weeks and you can do it then? I have to go,” Dean offered impatiently.
“All right,” Kevin knew that was the best he could expect. “Enjoy your vacation,” Kevin nodded and escorted her out into the main room. Ellen gave her a wave as they passed toward the exit.
“Good luck,” Dean said and was disappointed when she found Alistair waiting in the hall outside. “Have you decided to annoy me today?”
“Just a distraction really.”
Dean turned toward him with a glare she wasn’t at all in the mood. She was in the mood to go home, and crawl in bed with Castiel. It had been all she’d thought about since he’d left her sight. “I have shit to do what’s the deal?”
“You feeling okay?” Alistair asked from his nonchalant lean against the wall. “Take the shot okay?”
“Fine,” Dean looked over her shoulder as a familiar smell came to her nose. “What the hell do you want?”
Samantha gave Alistair a dismissive glance, and he nodded leaving them there. “Did you get your shot?”
Dean lifted the box of serum with a silent nod.
“You all right?”
Dean moved to pass her and Samantha followed, “I’m fine.”
“I know how fast your metabolism is you’ll eat through that serum ten times faster than anyone here,” Samantha reminded her. “Five hours tops before it’s out of your system.”
“And?”
“Not only do I not know what might happen in those five hours, but what happens when you have to prove if it’s built up in your system?” Samantha had never professed to care before.
“Why the hell do you care?”
“If they find out your one of them I might take the fall,” Samantha said making Dean smile.
“They’ll kill me and probably only give you a slap on the hand if anything…How are you supposed to know? Suppose I’ve hidden it from you too?” Dean growled as Samantha followed her into the elevator.
“I’m a Lumberjack--”
“So are Heyerdahl, Harvelle and Kevin how do they not know?” Dean hissed but they’d had this fight before. Samantha didn’t care if she’d repeatedly fooled even Kevin’s blood tests; she was paranoid and nothing would calm her. “I’ll bend a metal bar for him,” Dean didn’t hesitate to walk away as the elevator stopped and the doors opened. Samantha still followed.
“Going home to your yummy mystery man? What was his name? Castiel?” Samantha prodded.
“Let me deal with my personal life.”
Samantha grabbed her arm and spun Dean around to face her, “This is my business if it gets me kicked out of my Order.”
“I don’t care,” Dean easily pulled out of her grip proving Samantha wasn’t using her strength suit. “How far along are your injections?”
“A week,” Samantha was suddenly stepping back not as confrontational.
“Nothing yet?” Dean laughed no wonder Samantha was extra paranoid. “Maybe they’ll let you keep your suit,” Dean joked and Samantha glared at her.
“Just because yours is natural--”
“Natural?” Dean had her own strength and if she poured on the lycanthrope energy she had even more. “I thought lycanthropes weren’t natural.”
Dean grunted as she found herself pressed up against the wall Samantha using her body weight and the element of surprise to pin her there. There had been an actual flash of precognition and Dean had used it by throwing her arm up to block the subsequent switchblade and it dug into her forearm.
As Samantha looked up at her in shock Dean felt the itch across the top of her eye. Samantha backed away and held her blade ready as she scanned the hallway.
The itch faded and Dean examined her arm angrily. “That was almost down to the fucking bone.”
“Why did your mark appear?” Samantha asked in an accusatory tone.
“I don’t know!” Dean threw her hands up in defeat and winced. “Why did you try to stab me?”
“I hate you,” Samantha answered as if it were the most logical thing in the world. “You look so much like the both of them…”
Dean watched as Samantha shook her head and walked away. What the hell? Dean tried her best to put it out of her mind as she turned to enter Bobby’s office.
Onward to Chapter Seven pt. 2!