Six Ways To Sunday, Supernatural/Leverage, NC-17
Fandom: Supernatural/Leverage
Title: Six Ways to Sunday (Part 2... Part One is here)
Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester/Eliot Spencer, Nate, Sophie, Hardison, Sterling, brief mentions of Sam and John Winchester, Lisa & Ben,
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~6000
Summary: While this continues on from Part One, it takes place many years later. It is post Season 5 of SPN. Dean tries to cope with the loss of his brother by living a normal life. But when his old life comes looking for him and rips away his last chance at happiness, Dean is driven into a dark place inside himself. A chance run in with Eliot Spencer might offer him a shot at redemption, or at long last, the chance to die with his boots on.
A/Ns & Warnings: Written for ladywinchester there is much Dean angst, and true to form I can't resist hurting just a little more. Some sex, some violence, minor character death, mention of major canon character death.
The world ends for Dean Winchester the day Sam falls willingly into hell, into a prison designed to hold Lucifer for eternity, a prison Sam had made Dean swear he would leave Sam in.
Forever.
The war is over, the apocalypse averted, the status quo restored and all is right with the world.
Except that nothing is right. Nothing is real.
He stumbles through the first few hours, numb. He leaves Bobby, the expectation, the sorrow, the weight of all of it too much for him to stand.
He drives without really thinking about it, about where he is going, what he’s going to do, he drives because it's what he knows, the car is all the home he's had in so long.
He drives until he stops. Until he can't stand to go any more. He finds himself outside her house, but he can’t bring himself to leave the car.
Tears burn at the corner of his eyes, tears he won’t let fall because once the first one does, he isn’t sure he will ever stop. All his fighting had been for shit. He hadn’t been able to save Sam after all. His whole trip to hell, his promise to his father…and Sam was gone.
Forever.
”Promise me.”
He hadn’t said the words, Dean couldn’t say those words. Not when Sam was looking at him like that, not when Sam was giving up everything…but he still promised. He hated himself, he hated Sam for making him face the truth, that this time, no matter what Dean wanted, no matter what Dean tried, Sam could not be saved.
Somehow, in the wreckage of the life that in the end of everything didn’t seem to have mattered for squat, Dean had to find a way to start over. All that was left of that life was the car. If he closed his eyes he could feel them…Sam, his father…even his mother if he tried hard enough.
She had never wanted them raised to be hunters. She had tried to leave the life behind. His father had only ever dragged them into it because he didn’t know how else to protect them. And Sam…Dean pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes to keep the tears away. All Sam had ever wanted was a life without salt lines and lighter fluid.
You go find Lisa. You pray to god she's dumb enough to take you in, and you -- you have barbecues and go to football games. You go live some normal, apple-pie life, Dean. Promise me.”
He couldn’t. Dean shook his head. After all of it, how could he? He reached for the keys, his eyes catching on the front window of the house. Lisa was watching him. Waiting. Like she knew.
Dean climbed out of the Impala and pocketed the keys. Each step up the sidewalk was like skin being stripped off his back and when the door opened, Dean fell into her, wordlessly soaking her shoulder with tears he hadn’t meant to let loose.
Her arms folded around him and she stepped back, off the porch, the door closing. Dean gasped, the sound snapped something, severed him from the world outside.
Lisa didn’t ask and Dean didn’t offer. She led him into the house, gave him a glass of whiskey and let him hold her until he’d exhausted himself on tears and anguish and loss.
She gave him space to grieve without ever asking what had happened. It was as if she didn’t really want to know…and he wanted to just forget. Weeks passed unnoticed. He scarcely left the couch, but to eat or go to the bathroom.
One night she sat next to him, her hand on his knee. Ben was asleep. The house was quiet. Dean sat staring out the front window.
“I don’t think that what you’re looking for is out there anymore.” Lisa said softly.
Dean turned to look at her. She was right. Sam was gone. “No, he’s not.” Dean agreed.
“Are we so bad a consolation prize? Me and Ben?”
Dean felt the tears, but blinked them away, shaking his head. “No. You’re both pretty damn awesome.”
She looked him in the eye and nodded. “Okay. I’m going to get up and close the curtains then.”
Dean nodded. She stood and went to the window, pulling the curtains closed, blocking out the world outside. She held out her hand. “Come on. It's time for you to let go." She led him upstairs and into the bathroom, filling the tub with hot water and slowly peeling his clothes from him.
He slid into the water like it was a grave, closing his eyes and letting it seduce him, slipping under it to let it take him. Her hand on his arm drew him back, up and she slipped into the water with him, straddling his legs and settling down over him, her hands filled with an old fashioned straight razor and a can of shaving cream.
Lisa set the razor on the edge of the tub and filled her hand with shaving cream, offering him a soft smile before she leaned a little closer and began lathering his face. "Let's see if we can tame the beast," she whispered, lifting the razor.
Dean's hands settled on her hips, holding her softly as she set the razor on his skin and dragged it through the lather. The only sound in the room was Dean's breathing and the musical sounds of water as Lisa's hand dipped to clean the blade, then lifted again and the sound of metal scraping over skin.
She tilted his head, her hand steady. Her eyes met his frequently, checking in, holding him to the moment, keeping him from disappearing into the dark hole inside him. Her body moved against his, awakening a desire he hadn't felt in a while. Her kiss when she is done shaving him is hot and wet and it reminds him of a time before the pain and anguish, of a time when Sam was gone and it didn't kill him over and over again.
Her hands set aside the razor and reached for his cock, stroking it while it filled and hardened. She rose up and sank down, taking the full length of him into her in one stroke and kissing him, her hair falling down around his face. He closed his eyes and let the sensation of their bodies sliding together burn away at the ice that had held him since the end.
It doesn’t make everything better, but as she groans and comes and fills his mouth with her tongue, as she takes him, all of him just as he is, broken and incomplete, he thinks maybe he can go on. Maybe he can find his way back into the world, find a new person to be.
Life was strange in the normal world, at least it was strange to him. He found the pace stifling at first, the mundane parts of living a stationary life unreal and yet in some way comforting.
Old habits were hard to break. He felt naked without salt lines at the doors or a knife under his pillow. He adjusted slowly. He got a job at a local garage. He went to Ben’s Open House night at the school.
He went through the motions and slowly let go of the iron fist wrapped around his past. He stopped seeing Sam in every mirror.
Lisa was a warm companion, and he felt the most at ease when she was beside him. She sidled up, a bottle of beer in her hand as he flipped the burgers on the grill. “You’re smiling,” she said softly.
He was too. For the first time in a long time. He took a long drink, then kissed her forehead. “I’m happy.”
She hugged him closer and tilted her face up for a kiss. It felt good. Not quite right, but good. And deep down good.
He should have known it would never last.
“Did you think you could just walk away?”
“Excuse me?” Dean leans out from under the hood of the beat up Mustang he’s trying to get running again. The man coming at him was a client whose car he’d fixed the day before. “Mr. Lane?”
“You start an apocalypse, you stop and apocalypse, you create chaos in heaven and in hell and you think you can just walk away?”
Dean straightened up, wiping his hands on a rag. “What did you say?”
Lane’s eyes turned black and a chill of fear ran down Dean’s spine. “We’ve been looking for you Dean.”
“I can’t say the same.” His eyes darted around for a weapon, landing on the biggest wrench he could get to without moving. “So here I am. What’s it going to be?”
The demon grinned at him. “For starters, I mean to beat the shit out of you.”
He closed the distance between them, the air hot. Dean tensed, readied his swing, but before he could connect, the demon’s fist hit his chin and sent him flying backward. “Son of a bitch.” Dean climbed to his feet and landed two quick blows before he was being pummeled into the wall, fists to his face, a knee to his stomach, then a hand grabbed his throat and lifted him off his feet.
This dance was familiar, and even though it was futile, Dean struggled, prying at the fingers to get loose. "Oh, don't worry, Dean. I'm not going to kill you…yet."
"Hey, let him go!" Harold, Dean's boss, smashed the bastard in the back of the head with a pipe and Dean felt the hand loosen.
He kicked, landing a good solid blow to the stomach and the demon dropped him. "Harold, run!" Dean shouted, shoving past the demon to push his boss toward the front door.
"You go on and run Dean. See if you can get home before my brother is done with pretty little Lisa."
"Lisa?" Dean started to go back after him, but the demon laughed and spilled out of the poor sap he was squatting in. Dean jumped into the car, with Harold yelling after him, flying down the streets as the rush hour was beginning to wind down.
The sun was setting as he rounded the corner, and he might have mistaken the red glow he could see for the dying light reflecting on windows, but his stomach sank as he smelled the smoke.
Sirens were blaring somewhere in the distance as he slammed on the brakes, turned off the car and threw himself out of it. "Lisa! Ben!"
Fire licked at the windows and for the briefest moment he saw her in the window, screaming for him, then there was a dark mass behind her, pulling her back. Dean ran for the door, but as he reached it, it exploded outward, propelling him through the air and slamming him onto the front lawn.
He struggled to get up as the dark swirled, but it pulled him down.
"Damn it, Hardison." Eliot growled the words and took the earpiece out. He was done playing by the rules on this one.
He was going to deal with it his way, like he should have from the beginning. And he was going to stop taking side jobs with Hardison.
He stopped at the bar. "Whiskey, neat."
The mark was in the corner. Eliot watched as he played his usual intimidation games. He watched, marked the heat at his hip, the muscle at his sides, the poor geek kid he was shaking down.
The bartender put his drink down and Eliot picked it up, eyeing up the rest of the players and how likely they were to get involved.
"You look like someone who's looking to pick a fight."
Eliot turned, eyes narrowing. The man next to him was leaning over his own glass of whiskey, not looking at Eliot, but there was something familiar about him. It wasn't until he lifted his head and tossed back his whiskey that Eliot recognized him.
"Dean?"
He turned, his eyes on the mark in the corner before coming back to Eliot. "Eliot."
"Been a long time."
Dean nodded and sniffed, gesturing with his chin at the corner. "You here for that shit?"
Eliot inhaled and tossed back his whiskey. "Yeah. You want a piece?"
Dean cracked his neck. "Oh yeah."
"Bastard in the suit is mine. Rest is fair game."
Dean nodded and slid off his stool. There was something different about the man, he was leaner, darker. He moved with a swiftness Eliot didn't remember, a grace that came from economy of movement and muscles trained and honed, like a person that was used to fighting for his life.
They moved together toward the corner. The poor kid was shaking so bad, Eliot thought he was gonna wet himself. He put a hand on his shoulder. “Beat it kid.”
“Can I help you?”
Eliot smiled and nodded as the kid ran away. “I represent a certain party that would like me to tell you to go the fuck away.”
“Is that so?”
Eliot felt Dean move into position beside him. “Yes, on behalf of Mr. Jonathon Goart and all the rest of the geek squad you’re terrorizing, get the fuck out of my city.”
“Your city? That’s funny. I thought it was mine.”
“You thought wrong.” Eliot growled. To his left two guys were moving in on Dean, to his right two more were moving toward him. He heard Dean’s first punch, striking something with bone behind it before he had to move to avoid the first blow. One of his two was slow, and Eliot had him on the ground groaning with little more than an elbow to the back of the head.
The second was a little tougher, and he brought a knife out to play. Eliot blocked the blow, grabbed the wrist and twisted, kicking out to catch one of Dean’s guys in the knee while Dean was busy putting the other one on the ground.
The mark started to try to slip out the back, but Dean caught his ankle with a foot and sent him crashing into a table. “We ain’t done with you yet, asshole. Sit.”
Eliot knocked the knife loose and slammed the guy’s head into the wall, dropping him with the first. Dean had the last of his two in a sleeper hold and he was nearly out. Eliot crossed to the mark. “Now, where was I?”
He grabbed the man by his jacket and started for the door into the alley. He heard the sound of a gun cocking and turned to find Dean, gun out, pointed at several approaching minions.
“I am all done exercising patience today boys. Next one who takes a step closer gets a bullet in the knee.”
Eliot hauled the mark outside and Dean followed, keeping the piece out and watching the door while Eliot delivered a measured beating. “Now, I suggest you find another line of work.” Eliot growled as he left the bastard in a pile of broken limbs and bruises.
He backed away. Dean nodded and put the gun back in his belt. “You good?”
Eliot gestured toward the end of the building. “Yeah.” They got around the corner to where Dean’s car was parked. “So…”
Dean shook his head. “Don’t.”
“Okay.” Eliot could tell whatever had changed for Dean was still raw, and he wasn’t going to go poking into oozing wounds. “You wanna get a drink?”
Dean offered him a tight smile. “Is that your best pick up line?”
Eliot crossed his arms and leaned on the car. “It sounded better than, hey wanna fuck now?”
“Get in.” Dean opened his door and climbed in, bringing the engine to life. Eliot slid into the passengers seat.
“We going somewhere?”
“Unless you want me to fuck you over the hood right here on the street.” Dean said as they pulled out.
Eliot ran a hand over the dashboard. “She’s a sweet ride.”
“You know it.” Dean was quiet then, driving them out of the heart of downtown and pulling into the parking lot of a seedy looking motel.
“Really?” Eliot asked. “I’d almost rather do it over the hood of the car.”
Dean got out of the car. “Not in this town, too many cameras.” He pointed at the security camera looking down at them. “It ain’t so bad. I’ve been in worse.” Dean led the way to a door and opened it, stepping in and aside to let Eliot in. The door was barely closed before Dean had Eliot pressed into it, his mouth covering Eliot’s hungrily.
His hands were just as fast, pushing Eliot’s jacket off and to the floor. Eliot returned the favor, shoving Dean’s coat and button down shirt off before turning them so Dean was the one shoved into the door. Dean winced and held up both hands to stop him before reaching behind him to pull the gun from the small of the back.
Eliot backed off while Dean popped the magazine and cleared the chamber before setting the gun down. Eliot sat on the bed to pull off his boots and when he sat back up, Dean pushed him over backwards, climbing on top of him. Dean grinned, his hands working Eliot’s button and zipper open. “Been a while, hope I haven’t lost my touch.”
Eliot’s cock filled his hand as he stroked it. “Oh, I don’t think you have.” Eliot responded. Dean gave Eliot’s jeans a pull and manipulated them down far enough that he had access. He shoved Eliot’s knees toward his chest and Eliot could feel his fingers press in. “Lube?”
“Drawer.” Dean gestured. Eliot stretch for the drawer, coming back with a small bottle that was nearly empty.
“Thought you said it had been a while.”
“Ain’t mine. Found it there when I checked in.” Dean took the bottle and opened it. Eliot gasped when his three fingers, slicked with lube, pressed into him.
"Shit, warn a guy." Eliot murmured.
Dean chuckled. "Is this the part where I tell you I'm going to fuck you now?"
The bed shifted and Dean's fingers left him, replaced by the blunt, thick head of his cock. Eliot exhaled as he pressed in. Dean took no time in showing Eliot he hadn't lost anything in the arena of knowing how to go hard and fast, nailing his prostate on the second stroke and then every stroke after until Eliot was yelling and grabbing his dick just seconds before it spilled all over his t-shirt.
Dean wasn't far behind and he growled as he came, then stepped back, letting Eliot's legs drop to the bed. Eliot sat up as Dean went to the dresser, dick still hanging out, to pour whiskey into two glasses.
Eliot pulled his come stained shirt off and tossed it toward his jacket, then took the glass. "To small victories." Dean said darkly, lifting his glass in salute, then draining it.
Eliot sipped at his, then stood and headed into the bathroom to clean up the come dripping from his ass. Dean had shed his jeans and was sitting on the bed with the bottle when he came back.
They'd never been big at the small talk. Eliot was torn between just getting dressed and leaving him to his darkness and sticking around for more.
"You here for a reason?" Eliot asked finally, splitting the difference by stealing the bottle from him and pouring more for both of them.
"Was." Dean responded without looking up. "Ghost. Salted. Burned. Next."
"Leaving soon?"
Dean looked up then. He shrugged. "Got no reason to stay."
Eliot drank his whiskey. That was a smart man's cue to leave. "Got a reason to go?"
Dean hesitated, then lifted the glass and drained it again. "Not really, no."
Eliot drained his glass and set it aside. "How about you and I get good and drunk, fuck each other senseless and let the world piss itself for a while?"
Dean raised an eyebrow. "We'll need more alcohol than this."
"Give me ten minutes." Eliot knew he should leave the man to whatever misery he'd found for himself…but all this work with Nate had gotten under his skin, and maybe he couldn't fix whatever it was, but if he could give the man a few days of good, what harm could it do?
Eliot groaned as he leaned over the side of the bed to rummage around for his pants and the phone in the pocket that was currently vibrating loud enough to be painful to his very hungover head.
"What?" he growled into the phone when he finally found it.
"Where the hell you been, man?"
"Hardison, now is not the time."
"Got a job, man. Nate's been looking for you."
"Fine. I'll be there in a few hours."
"Faster is better."
Eliot hung up the phone and dragged a hand through his hair to pull it out his face. Dean blinked blearily up at him. "Ah, the sound of duty calling." Dean said dryly.
Eliot nodded and sat up. The room looked like two men had spent two days drinking and fucking on every imaginable surface. He turned to Dean, straddling over him and leaning in to kiss him hard. "Hang around a while." His hand sub-consciously moved to cover the raised red hand print on Dean's shoulder.
Dean hadn't offered an explanation, Eliot hadn't asked for one. It went with Dean's new darkness, with the reasons he was so angry and alone. Eliot didn't want to pry it out of him, but he wanted to know.
"You asking me to stay?" Dean asked, something in his eyes lighting up.
Eliot nipped at his lips. "Oh, I ain't done with you yet, Son." Eliot responded. He knew better than to start something, though his cock didn't seem to be aware. "I have to go for a little while, but I can come back. We can finish this up right before you head off to whatever the next job is."
"You are starting to sound like a girl." Dean pushed him, rolled them so he was on top. "But if you want more of me pounding your ass, come on back. I got nothing pressing."
"I'll be pressing." Eliot countered, rolling them again. "But first I need to shower."
He got up and moved into the bathroom, his whole body sore like he'd spent two days fighting rather than fucking. He turned on the water and got in. There was no way in hell he was turning up at Nate's place smelling like sex.
He was the last one to reach the loft and Hardison was already part way into the rundown when Eliot walked in.
"Nice of you to join us." Nate said, his tone light, but his eyes clearly wanting to ask Eliot where he'd been.
"I was busy." Eliot said in way of explanation. "So what's this job?"
"If you had been here when I started…" Hardison grumbled. Eliot fixed him with a glare. "No, I don't mind starting at the beginning." He pressed his remote. "Meet Alexandra Tomas, head of Tomas Securities. She specializes in black market sales of corporate secrets, with a side in selling information security to the companies she steals from."
Nate stood. "She sends her team in to get the information, packages it and sells it to the highest bidder, then waltzes in behind them to sell the poor sap she just stole from a security package to protect future intel."
"So she's dirty and double dipping." Eliot nodded. "What's the angle?"
"Eliot, we need you to go in as muscle. She lost two guys recently, one got arrested on unrelated charges, another one apparently fell off a building." Nate pointed at Parker. "Parker, I need you to do recon at her offices. Find out where she keeps her secrets. She hasn't moved the package yet, find it."
"Meanwhile, I will be playing a buyer looking for that particular bit of information she just stole." Sophie said.
“Wouldn’t she already have a buyer lined up?” Eliot asked.
“Meet Percival Denten, of Denten Microsystems.” Hardison said, flipping the screens. “He gives geeks a bad name. He and Tomas have a history together. His entire business is built on stolen technology. Tech stolen from small startup companies that go under once he’s acquired their secrets.”
“I’ll deal with Denten.” Nate rubbed his hands together. “He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s about to have a whole lot of trouble with one of his products.”
“Wait, so we’re buying back the client’s information?” Parker asked, pausing mid bite of her cereal.
“Not really, no.” Nate shook his head. “We’re stalling the buy so that we can find the package and substitute one of our own.”
Hardison grinned. “And as soon as Denton tries to read it, it flags the FBI, the IRS and half a dozen other agencies, implicating the two of them.”
“So the feds do the dirty work, our client gets his information back…”
Eliot held up his hand and nodded. “Fine, where am I going?”
“Tomas uses a guy named Feldon to run her crew.”
Eliot nodded again. He’d heard the name. “I know him. I’ll be in touch.”
“You in a hurry?” Nate asked as he headed for the door.
“I need to take care of a few things. Don’t worry. I’ll get in with Feldon before the end of the day.”
Eliot closed the door behind him. Feldon wouldn’t be hard. He was the kind of guy who respected reputation, and Eliot’s reputation was the kind he respected. All he had to do was figure out which bar to find him in.
“So, you run with some crew now or something?” Dean asked as they sat in the impala outside some upscale restaurant.
“Or something.” Eliot responded, his eyes on the door. “Sophie, she’s at the bar.”
“Those ear things are cool.” Dean eyed the restaurant, then turned to look at Eliot. “What’s the game?”
Eliot shook his head lightly. “Never mind who that is Hardison. Do your damn job.” He looked at Dean. “It’s a stall game mostly. We keep her from selling something long enough for us to find it, steal it and replace it with something else.”
“And you’re the good guys?”
Eliot sort of shrugged. Dean didn’t really care, honestly. Hanging out with Eliot was more fun than the alternative and it came with the added bonus of getting to beat the shit out of people. And the sex was good too. Just what he needed.
“Shit, Sophie, you’re blown, get out of there.” Eliot said suddenly. “Do you hear me? Nate, Sterling is walking into the bar.” Eliot put a pair of binoculars to his face.
“Sterling?” Dean asked. Eliot handed him the binoculars and pointed.
“See our mark?” Dean nodded. “The guy that just sat to her left.” All he could see was a suit coat and the back of his head. Eliot shifted to see around him. “Sophie, you’re clear.”
Dean watched the well dressed brunette cross the street and glanced over his shoulder as she slid into the car with them. “No what?”
Dean handed Eliot the binoculars back. “You need her distracted?” He got out of the car and went to the trunk, pulling out his suit jacket and a shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“I can be distracting.” Dean said, pulling off his t-shirt and pulling on the button down.
“You don’t know the game.” Eliot responded, grabbing the jacket.
“Gimme an ear thing and talk me through it.”
Eliot seemed to be listening to whoever was on the other end of the communication piece. He growled and shoved the jacket at him, then went to the car. He came back with Sophie’s earpiece. “Here.”
Dean looked at it, then fit it into his ear. “This is Dean.” Eliot said. “He’s a friend.”
“All right Dean, you have a plan?”
“I figure I’ll go in there and be charming for starters.” Dean said, slipping the jacket on.
“You’re going to need to get between her and Sterling.”
“Yeah, Nate, what the hell is Sterling doing here?” Eliot asked.
“I’m digging,” a different voice said.
“That’s Hardison.” Eliot explained.
“Dude, how many voices do you have in your head?” Dean asked.
“Way too fucking many.” Eliot responded.
“Okay, so you want Sterling out of the picture so I can woo her. Got it.” Dean closed the trunk.
“Dean, you’re in the market for some information. Corporate espionage is her game.”
He left Eliot standing beside the impala and crossed the street. Dean appropriated a drink from a table as he passed and headed for the bar.
“If you actually had anything more than idle threats, Mr. Sterling, we wouldn’t be sitting here at the bar having this conversation.” The mark was a good looking woman, tall and curvy and the kind of man-eating bitch that never saw a man she couldn’t use up and throw away.
“And here I thought I was being courteous, Ms. Tomas, offering you the opportunity to do the right thing.”
Dean almost tripped when he saw Sterling's face. He drank some of the alcohol and walked past, murmuring Christo. When the guy didn't react, Dean stopped, back tracking. The demon he knew as Crowley had clearly left for greener pastures.
“Don’t I know you?” Dean asked, letting his words slur a little and jabbing his hand with the drink at Sterling, letting the alcohol slosh out over the sides of the glass. “You…you’re the guy from TV, right? With the…” He gestured at his own head with his empty hand. “…the hair thing, right? Dude, where’s your hair?”
He gestured with the glass, spilling it onto Sterling’s head. Sterling yelled and jumped, which resulted in Dean’s fist, glass and all, hitting him in the eye and sending him over backward. “Dude, I am so sorry.” Dean leaned down to help him and spilled the rest of the drink directly onto Sterling’s groin.
Sterling shoved him. “Back off.” He got to his feet, brushing at his now wet pants and glared at Dean. “We aren’t done yet,” he growled at the woman before shaking a finger at Dean and stalking away.
“Nicely done.” Nate’s voice said in his ear. “Now, introduce yourself. Tell her you’re with Turner Electronics.”
Dean turned to Tomas and smiled. “Sorry. I hate to see a tool like that upsetting a beautiful woman.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, he wasn’t upsetting me, but you are more than welcome to take his place.”
Dean slid into the seat Sterling had vacated and smiled. He held out his hand. “Dean Osborne, Turner Electronics.”
“Alex Tomas, Tomas Securities.”
“She’s in information security, tell her you know who she is, that you like her work.”
Dean shook a finger at her. “I’ve heard of you. Tried to get my boss to have your reps in earlier this year to secure our information systems. He’s a tightwad though, trusts our homegrown security.”
“Isn’t that sweet.” Tomas finished her glass of wine. “Most small companies don’t realize how just one theft can end them. Corporate espionage is big business, Mr. Osborne.”
“Please, call me Dean. Let me buy you a drink.” He flagged down the bartender. “Another for the lady, please, and a beer for me.”
“So tell me, what sort of work does Turner Electronics do, Dean?”
“Tell her that you got your start with microprocessors, but recently made breakthroughs with nan-technology. Mention NASA, but be subtle.”
Dean wanted to growl at the damn voice in his ear. “Well, we mostly worked in microprocessors until recently. Our new stuff is way cooler though.” He thanked the bartender as he set down the drinks, and lifted his beer. “Nano-technology.”
That certainly sparked her interest. She leaned in, settling her hand on his thigh. “Oh, do tell.”
He grinned and leaned in closer. “Can’t talk about it, you know? The NASA people are coming in to look at it. Could be worth a lot of money.”
“For your employer.” Alex said in his ear. “Too bad you won’t see any of it.”
“His company.” Dean replied, sitting back and drinking from his beer.
“Easy now, let her come to you.” Nate said in his ear.
“Well now, what if we could change all that?” Alex said, her eyes glittering.
Dean lifted an eyebrow. “And how would we do that?”
“Buy me dinner, and I’ll tell you a little story.”
“How the hell do you function with that in your ear?” Dean asked as he put the earpiece in Eliot’s hand.
“Takes practice.” Eliot answered, pocketing the piece.
“Well, it’s hard to be charming when I’ve got your boyfriends bantering in my ear.” Dean slid behind the wheel and shook his head.
“But you hooked her.”
“Until she realizes that I’m full of shit.” Dean growled. “And what the fuck did Nate mean about stealing an electronics company?”
“It’s what he does. Look, don’t worry about that end of it. Just play the part.”
“Don’t worry about the fact that tomorrow I’m supposed to meet her with the plans to an office that doesn’t exist and the combination of a safe that doesn’t exist where there is supposed to be a product that doesn’t exist?” Dean sighed. “Fine, but if I get shot at, I’m shooting back.”
He pulled them out into traffic. “And why the fuck didn’t you tell me that Sterling was Interpol before I went in?”
“Why, would it have changed anything?” Eliot asked.
Dean chuckled. “I might have hit him harder.”
Eliot snorted. “By the time we go meet Nate in the morning, Hardison will have everything set up. You just have to get her to go after the safe.”
“Just like that?”
Eliot nodded. “Just like that.”
“Well it beats getting the shit kicked out of me by angry spirits and demons.” He drummed a rhythm on the steering wheel with his thumbs. “So…now what?”
“We go back to your place and I fuck you until sunrise.” Eliot growled suggestively.
Dean’s cock made it clear that it approved of that idea. He pressed harder on the gas pedal and raced the speedometer to the motel. All the flirting with the mark had him revving to go anyway.
At least until he got out of the car and saw a familiar figure lurking by his motel room door.
Dean shoved a twenty at Eliot as they got out of the car. “Hit that liquor store on the corner, I gotta deal with something.” He waited until Eliot walked away, though he gave the trench coat a once over first, then Dean stalked to the door. “Now is not a good time Cas.” Dean opened the door, not surprised when the angel appeared already in the room.
“You’ve been ignoring me.”
“For a reason. Get lost.”
“You’re still angry.”
“Damn fucking straight I’m angry. Get out. And don’t come back. I’m not interested.”
“Even if it’s about Sam?”
Dean turned his back on the angel, seething with guilt and anger. “Don’t. Don’t you even speak his name.”
The familiar stabbing pain cut through him, the images of Sam there, in that pit. After everything Dean had done to keep him out of it, after all the promises he’d failed to keep.
“Dean-“
“No. I mean it Castiel. Go away.”
Sam is-“ Dean whirled, punching the angel hard across the jaw. He at least had the decency to turn his head as if he felt it. “I’m sorry, Dean.”
Castiel disappeared then, leaving Dean to nurse the pain screaming through his hand and seethe. The door opened a few minutes later and Eliot looked around as if expecting someone to be there. “Everything all right?”
Dean growled and grabbed him, shoving him into the wall. “Get with the fucking and everything will be just fine.”
Title: Six Ways to Sunday (Part 2... Part One is here)
Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester/Eliot Spencer, Nate, Sophie, Hardison, Sterling, brief mentions of Sam and John Winchester, Lisa & Ben,
Rating: NC-17
Word count: ~6000
Summary: While this continues on from Part One, it takes place many years later. It is post Season 5 of SPN. Dean tries to cope with the loss of his brother by living a normal life. But when his old life comes looking for him and rips away his last chance at happiness, Dean is driven into a dark place inside himself. A chance run in with Eliot Spencer might offer him a shot at redemption, or at long last, the chance to die with his boots on.
A/Ns & Warnings: Written for ladywinchester there is much Dean angst, and true to form I can't resist hurting just a little more. Some sex, some violence, minor character death, mention of major canon character death.
The world ends for Dean Winchester the day Sam falls willingly into hell, into a prison designed to hold Lucifer for eternity, a prison Sam had made Dean swear he would leave Sam in.
Forever.
The war is over, the apocalypse averted, the status quo restored and all is right with the world.
Except that nothing is right. Nothing is real.
He stumbles through the first few hours, numb. He leaves Bobby, the expectation, the sorrow, the weight of all of it too much for him to stand.
He drives without really thinking about it, about where he is going, what he’s going to do, he drives because it's what he knows, the car is all the home he's had in so long.
He drives until he stops. Until he can't stand to go any more. He finds himself outside her house, but he can’t bring himself to leave the car.
Tears burn at the corner of his eyes, tears he won’t let fall because once the first one does, he isn’t sure he will ever stop. All his fighting had been for shit. He hadn’t been able to save Sam after all. His whole trip to hell, his promise to his father…and Sam was gone.
Forever.
”Promise me.”
He hadn’t said the words, Dean couldn’t say those words. Not when Sam was looking at him like that, not when Sam was giving up everything…but he still promised. He hated himself, he hated Sam for making him face the truth, that this time, no matter what Dean wanted, no matter what Dean tried, Sam could not be saved.
Somehow, in the wreckage of the life that in the end of everything didn’t seem to have mattered for squat, Dean had to find a way to start over. All that was left of that life was the car. If he closed his eyes he could feel them…Sam, his father…even his mother if he tried hard enough.
She had never wanted them raised to be hunters. She had tried to leave the life behind. His father had only ever dragged them into it because he didn’t know how else to protect them. And Sam…Dean pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes to keep the tears away. All Sam had ever wanted was a life without salt lines and lighter fluid.
You go find Lisa. You pray to god she's dumb enough to take you in, and you -- you have barbecues and go to football games. You go live some normal, apple-pie life, Dean. Promise me.”
He couldn’t. Dean shook his head. After all of it, how could he? He reached for the keys, his eyes catching on the front window of the house. Lisa was watching him. Waiting. Like she knew.
Dean climbed out of the Impala and pocketed the keys. Each step up the sidewalk was like skin being stripped off his back and when the door opened, Dean fell into her, wordlessly soaking her shoulder with tears he hadn’t meant to let loose.
Her arms folded around him and she stepped back, off the porch, the door closing. Dean gasped, the sound snapped something, severed him from the world outside.
Lisa didn’t ask and Dean didn’t offer. She led him into the house, gave him a glass of whiskey and let him hold her until he’d exhausted himself on tears and anguish and loss.
She gave him space to grieve without ever asking what had happened. It was as if she didn’t really want to know…and he wanted to just forget. Weeks passed unnoticed. He scarcely left the couch, but to eat or go to the bathroom.
One night she sat next to him, her hand on his knee. Ben was asleep. The house was quiet. Dean sat staring out the front window.
“I don’t think that what you’re looking for is out there anymore.” Lisa said softly.
Dean turned to look at her. She was right. Sam was gone. “No, he’s not.” Dean agreed.
“Are we so bad a consolation prize? Me and Ben?”
Dean felt the tears, but blinked them away, shaking his head. “No. You’re both pretty damn awesome.”
She looked him in the eye and nodded. “Okay. I’m going to get up and close the curtains then.”
Dean nodded. She stood and went to the window, pulling the curtains closed, blocking out the world outside. She held out her hand. “Come on. It's time for you to let go." She led him upstairs and into the bathroom, filling the tub with hot water and slowly peeling his clothes from him.
He slid into the water like it was a grave, closing his eyes and letting it seduce him, slipping under it to let it take him. Her hand on his arm drew him back, up and she slipped into the water with him, straddling his legs and settling down over him, her hands filled with an old fashioned straight razor and a can of shaving cream.
Lisa set the razor on the edge of the tub and filled her hand with shaving cream, offering him a soft smile before she leaned a little closer and began lathering his face. "Let's see if we can tame the beast," she whispered, lifting the razor.
Dean's hands settled on her hips, holding her softly as she set the razor on his skin and dragged it through the lather. The only sound in the room was Dean's breathing and the musical sounds of water as Lisa's hand dipped to clean the blade, then lifted again and the sound of metal scraping over skin.
She tilted his head, her hand steady. Her eyes met his frequently, checking in, holding him to the moment, keeping him from disappearing into the dark hole inside him. Her body moved against his, awakening a desire he hadn't felt in a while. Her kiss when she is done shaving him is hot and wet and it reminds him of a time before the pain and anguish, of a time when Sam was gone and it didn't kill him over and over again.
Her hands set aside the razor and reached for his cock, stroking it while it filled and hardened. She rose up and sank down, taking the full length of him into her in one stroke and kissing him, her hair falling down around his face. He closed his eyes and let the sensation of their bodies sliding together burn away at the ice that had held him since the end.
It doesn’t make everything better, but as she groans and comes and fills his mouth with her tongue, as she takes him, all of him just as he is, broken and incomplete, he thinks maybe he can go on. Maybe he can find his way back into the world, find a new person to be.
Life was strange in the normal world, at least it was strange to him. He found the pace stifling at first, the mundane parts of living a stationary life unreal and yet in some way comforting.
Old habits were hard to break. He felt naked without salt lines at the doors or a knife under his pillow. He adjusted slowly. He got a job at a local garage. He went to Ben’s Open House night at the school.
He went through the motions and slowly let go of the iron fist wrapped around his past. He stopped seeing Sam in every mirror.
Lisa was a warm companion, and he felt the most at ease when she was beside him. She sidled up, a bottle of beer in her hand as he flipped the burgers on the grill. “You’re smiling,” she said softly.
He was too. For the first time in a long time. He took a long drink, then kissed her forehead. “I’m happy.”
She hugged him closer and tilted her face up for a kiss. It felt good. Not quite right, but good. And deep down good.
He should have known it would never last.
“Did you think you could just walk away?”
“Excuse me?” Dean leans out from under the hood of the beat up Mustang he’s trying to get running again. The man coming at him was a client whose car he’d fixed the day before. “Mr. Lane?”
“You start an apocalypse, you stop and apocalypse, you create chaos in heaven and in hell and you think you can just walk away?”
Dean straightened up, wiping his hands on a rag. “What did you say?”
Lane’s eyes turned black and a chill of fear ran down Dean’s spine. “We’ve been looking for you Dean.”
“I can’t say the same.” His eyes darted around for a weapon, landing on the biggest wrench he could get to without moving. “So here I am. What’s it going to be?”
The demon grinned at him. “For starters, I mean to beat the shit out of you.”
He closed the distance between them, the air hot. Dean tensed, readied his swing, but before he could connect, the demon’s fist hit his chin and sent him flying backward. “Son of a bitch.” Dean climbed to his feet and landed two quick blows before he was being pummeled into the wall, fists to his face, a knee to his stomach, then a hand grabbed his throat and lifted him off his feet.
This dance was familiar, and even though it was futile, Dean struggled, prying at the fingers to get loose. "Oh, don't worry, Dean. I'm not going to kill you…yet."
"Hey, let him go!" Harold, Dean's boss, smashed the bastard in the back of the head with a pipe and Dean felt the hand loosen.
He kicked, landing a good solid blow to the stomach and the demon dropped him. "Harold, run!" Dean shouted, shoving past the demon to push his boss toward the front door.
"You go on and run Dean. See if you can get home before my brother is done with pretty little Lisa."
"Lisa?" Dean started to go back after him, but the demon laughed and spilled out of the poor sap he was squatting in. Dean jumped into the car, with Harold yelling after him, flying down the streets as the rush hour was beginning to wind down.
The sun was setting as he rounded the corner, and he might have mistaken the red glow he could see for the dying light reflecting on windows, but his stomach sank as he smelled the smoke.
Sirens were blaring somewhere in the distance as he slammed on the brakes, turned off the car and threw himself out of it. "Lisa! Ben!"
Fire licked at the windows and for the briefest moment he saw her in the window, screaming for him, then there was a dark mass behind her, pulling her back. Dean ran for the door, but as he reached it, it exploded outward, propelling him through the air and slamming him onto the front lawn.
He struggled to get up as the dark swirled, but it pulled him down.
"Damn it, Hardison." Eliot growled the words and took the earpiece out. He was done playing by the rules on this one.
He was going to deal with it his way, like he should have from the beginning. And he was going to stop taking side jobs with Hardison.
He stopped at the bar. "Whiskey, neat."
The mark was in the corner. Eliot watched as he played his usual intimidation games. He watched, marked the heat at his hip, the muscle at his sides, the poor geek kid he was shaking down.
The bartender put his drink down and Eliot picked it up, eyeing up the rest of the players and how likely they were to get involved.
"You look like someone who's looking to pick a fight."
Eliot turned, eyes narrowing. The man next to him was leaning over his own glass of whiskey, not looking at Eliot, but there was something familiar about him. It wasn't until he lifted his head and tossed back his whiskey that Eliot recognized him.
"Dean?"
He turned, his eyes on the mark in the corner before coming back to Eliot. "Eliot."
"Been a long time."
Dean nodded and sniffed, gesturing with his chin at the corner. "You here for that shit?"
Eliot inhaled and tossed back his whiskey. "Yeah. You want a piece?"
Dean cracked his neck. "Oh yeah."
"Bastard in the suit is mine. Rest is fair game."
Dean nodded and slid off his stool. There was something different about the man, he was leaner, darker. He moved with a swiftness Eliot didn't remember, a grace that came from economy of movement and muscles trained and honed, like a person that was used to fighting for his life.
They moved together toward the corner. The poor kid was shaking so bad, Eliot thought he was gonna wet himself. He put a hand on his shoulder. “Beat it kid.”
“Can I help you?”
Eliot smiled and nodded as the kid ran away. “I represent a certain party that would like me to tell you to go the fuck away.”
“Is that so?”
Eliot felt Dean move into position beside him. “Yes, on behalf of Mr. Jonathon Goart and all the rest of the geek squad you’re terrorizing, get the fuck out of my city.”
“Your city? That’s funny. I thought it was mine.”
“You thought wrong.” Eliot growled. To his left two guys were moving in on Dean, to his right two more were moving toward him. He heard Dean’s first punch, striking something with bone behind it before he had to move to avoid the first blow. One of his two was slow, and Eliot had him on the ground groaning with little more than an elbow to the back of the head.
The second was a little tougher, and he brought a knife out to play. Eliot blocked the blow, grabbed the wrist and twisted, kicking out to catch one of Dean’s guys in the knee while Dean was busy putting the other one on the ground.
The mark started to try to slip out the back, but Dean caught his ankle with a foot and sent him crashing into a table. “We ain’t done with you yet, asshole. Sit.”
Eliot knocked the knife loose and slammed the guy’s head into the wall, dropping him with the first. Dean had the last of his two in a sleeper hold and he was nearly out. Eliot crossed to the mark. “Now, where was I?”
He grabbed the man by his jacket and started for the door into the alley. He heard the sound of a gun cocking and turned to find Dean, gun out, pointed at several approaching minions.
“I am all done exercising patience today boys. Next one who takes a step closer gets a bullet in the knee.”
Eliot hauled the mark outside and Dean followed, keeping the piece out and watching the door while Eliot delivered a measured beating. “Now, I suggest you find another line of work.” Eliot growled as he left the bastard in a pile of broken limbs and bruises.
He backed away. Dean nodded and put the gun back in his belt. “You good?”
Eliot gestured toward the end of the building. “Yeah.” They got around the corner to where Dean’s car was parked. “So…”
Dean shook his head. “Don’t.”
“Okay.” Eliot could tell whatever had changed for Dean was still raw, and he wasn’t going to go poking into oozing wounds. “You wanna get a drink?”
Dean offered him a tight smile. “Is that your best pick up line?”
Eliot crossed his arms and leaned on the car. “It sounded better than, hey wanna fuck now?”
“Get in.” Dean opened his door and climbed in, bringing the engine to life. Eliot slid into the passengers seat.
“We going somewhere?”
“Unless you want me to fuck you over the hood right here on the street.” Dean said as they pulled out.
Eliot ran a hand over the dashboard. “She’s a sweet ride.”
“You know it.” Dean was quiet then, driving them out of the heart of downtown and pulling into the parking lot of a seedy looking motel.
“Really?” Eliot asked. “I’d almost rather do it over the hood of the car.”
Dean got out of the car. “Not in this town, too many cameras.” He pointed at the security camera looking down at them. “It ain’t so bad. I’ve been in worse.” Dean led the way to a door and opened it, stepping in and aside to let Eliot in. The door was barely closed before Dean had Eliot pressed into it, his mouth covering Eliot’s hungrily.
His hands were just as fast, pushing Eliot’s jacket off and to the floor. Eliot returned the favor, shoving Dean’s coat and button down shirt off before turning them so Dean was the one shoved into the door. Dean winced and held up both hands to stop him before reaching behind him to pull the gun from the small of the back.
Eliot backed off while Dean popped the magazine and cleared the chamber before setting the gun down. Eliot sat on the bed to pull off his boots and when he sat back up, Dean pushed him over backwards, climbing on top of him. Dean grinned, his hands working Eliot’s button and zipper open. “Been a while, hope I haven’t lost my touch.”
Eliot’s cock filled his hand as he stroked it. “Oh, I don’t think you have.” Eliot responded. Dean gave Eliot’s jeans a pull and manipulated them down far enough that he had access. He shoved Eliot’s knees toward his chest and Eliot could feel his fingers press in. “Lube?”
“Drawer.” Dean gestured. Eliot stretch for the drawer, coming back with a small bottle that was nearly empty.
“Thought you said it had been a while.”
“Ain’t mine. Found it there when I checked in.” Dean took the bottle and opened it. Eliot gasped when his three fingers, slicked with lube, pressed into him.
"Shit, warn a guy." Eliot murmured.
Dean chuckled. "Is this the part where I tell you I'm going to fuck you now?"
The bed shifted and Dean's fingers left him, replaced by the blunt, thick head of his cock. Eliot exhaled as he pressed in. Dean took no time in showing Eliot he hadn't lost anything in the arena of knowing how to go hard and fast, nailing his prostate on the second stroke and then every stroke after until Eliot was yelling and grabbing his dick just seconds before it spilled all over his t-shirt.
Dean wasn't far behind and he growled as he came, then stepped back, letting Eliot's legs drop to the bed. Eliot sat up as Dean went to the dresser, dick still hanging out, to pour whiskey into two glasses.
Eliot pulled his come stained shirt off and tossed it toward his jacket, then took the glass. "To small victories." Dean said darkly, lifting his glass in salute, then draining it.
Eliot sipped at his, then stood and headed into the bathroom to clean up the come dripping from his ass. Dean had shed his jeans and was sitting on the bed with the bottle when he came back.
They'd never been big at the small talk. Eliot was torn between just getting dressed and leaving him to his darkness and sticking around for more.
"You here for a reason?" Eliot asked finally, splitting the difference by stealing the bottle from him and pouring more for both of them.
"Was." Dean responded without looking up. "Ghost. Salted. Burned. Next."
"Leaving soon?"
Dean looked up then. He shrugged. "Got no reason to stay."
Eliot drank his whiskey. That was a smart man's cue to leave. "Got a reason to go?"
Dean hesitated, then lifted the glass and drained it again. "Not really, no."
Eliot drained his glass and set it aside. "How about you and I get good and drunk, fuck each other senseless and let the world piss itself for a while?"
Dean raised an eyebrow. "We'll need more alcohol than this."
"Give me ten minutes." Eliot knew he should leave the man to whatever misery he'd found for himself…but all this work with Nate had gotten under his skin, and maybe he couldn't fix whatever it was, but if he could give the man a few days of good, what harm could it do?
Eliot groaned as he leaned over the side of the bed to rummage around for his pants and the phone in the pocket that was currently vibrating loud enough to be painful to his very hungover head.
"What?" he growled into the phone when he finally found it.
"Where the hell you been, man?"
"Hardison, now is not the time."
"Got a job, man. Nate's been looking for you."
"Fine. I'll be there in a few hours."
"Faster is better."
Eliot hung up the phone and dragged a hand through his hair to pull it out his face. Dean blinked blearily up at him. "Ah, the sound of duty calling." Dean said dryly.
Eliot nodded and sat up. The room looked like two men had spent two days drinking and fucking on every imaginable surface. He turned to Dean, straddling over him and leaning in to kiss him hard. "Hang around a while." His hand sub-consciously moved to cover the raised red hand print on Dean's shoulder.
Dean hadn't offered an explanation, Eliot hadn't asked for one. It went with Dean's new darkness, with the reasons he was so angry and alone. Eliot didn't want to pry it out of him, but he wanted to know.
"You asking me to stay?" Dean asked, something in his eyes lighting up.
Eliot nipped at his lips. "Oh, I ain't done with you yet, Son." Eliot responded. He knew better than to start something, though his cock didn't seem to be aware. "I have to go for a little while, but I can come back. We can finish this up right before you head off to whatever the next job is."
"You are starting to sound like a girl." Dean pushed him, rolled them so he was on top. "But if you want more of me pounding your ass, come on back. I got nothing pressing."
"I'll be pressing." Eliot countered, rolling them again. "But first I need to shower."
He got up and moved into the bathroom, his whole body sore like he'd spent two days fighting rather than fucking. He turned on the water and got in. There was no way in hell he was turning up at Nate's place smelling like sex.
He was the last one to reach the loft and Hardison was already part way into the rundown when Eliot walked in.
"Nice of you to join us." Nate said, his tone light, but his eyes clearly wanting to ask Eliot where he'd been.
"I was busy." Eliot said in way of explanation. "So what's this job?"
"If you had been here when I started…" Hardison grumbled. Eliot fixed him with a glare. "No, I don't mind starting at the beginning." He pressed his remote. "Meet Alexandra Tomas, head of Tomas Securities. She specializes in black market sales of corporate secrets, with a side in selling information security to the companies she steals from."
Nate stood. "She sends her team in to get the information, packages it and sells it to the highest bidder, then waltzes in behind them to sell the poor sap she just stole from a security package to protect future intel."
"So she's dirty and double dipping." Eliot nodded. "What's the angle?"
"Eliot, we need you to go in as muscle. She lost two guys recently, one got arrested on unrelated charges, another one apparently fell off a building." Nate pointed at Parker. "Parker, I need you to do recon at her offices. Find out where she keeps her secrets. She hasn't moved the package yet, find it."
"Meanwhile, I will be playing a buyer looking for that particular bit of information she just stole." Sophie said.
“Wouldn’t she already have a buyer lined up?” Eliot asked.
“Meet Percival Denten, of Denten Microsystems.” Hardison said, flipping the screens. “He gives geeks a bad name. He and Tomas have a history together. His entire business is built on stolen technology. Tech stolen from small startup companies that go under once he’s acquired their secrets.”
“I’ll deal with Denten.” Nate rubbed his hands together. “He doesn’t know it yet, but he’s about to have a whole lot of trouble with one of his products.”
“Wait, so we’re buying back the client’s information?” Parker asked, pausing mid bite of her cereal.
“Not really, no.” Nate shook his head. “We’re stalling the buy so that we can find the package and substitute one of our own.”
Hardison grinned. “And as soon as Denton tries to read it, it flags the FBI, the IRS and half a dozen other agencies, implicating the two of them.”
“So the feds do the dirty work, our client gets his information back…”
Eliot held up his hand and nodded. “Fine, where am I going?”
“Tomas uses a guy named Feldon to run her crew.”
Eliot nodded again. He’d heard the name. “I know him. I’ll be in touch.”
“You in a hurry?” Nate asked as he headed for the door.
“I need to take care of a few things. Don’t worry. I’ll get in with Feldon before the end of the day.”
Eliot closed the door behind him. Feldon wouldn’t be hard. He was the kind of guy who respected reputation, and Eliot’s reputation was the kind he respected. All he had to do was figure out which bar to find him in.
“So, you run with some crew now or something?” Dean asked as they sat in the impala outside some upscale restaurant.
“Or something.” Eliot responded, his eyes on the door. “Sophie, she’s at the bar.”
“Those ear things are cool.” Dean eyed the restaurant, then turned to look at Eliot. “What’s the game?”
Eliot shook his head lightly. “Never mind who that is Hardison. Do your damn job.” He looked at Dean. “It’s a stall game mostly. We keep her from selling something long enough for us to find it, steal it and replace it with something else.”
“And you’re the good guys?”
Eliot sort of shrugged. Dean didn’t really care, honestly. Hanging out with Eliot was more fun than the alternative and it came with the added bonus of getting to beat the shit out of people. And the sex was good too. Just what he needed.
“Shit, Sophie, you’re blown, get out of there.” Eliot said suddenly. “Do you hear me? Nate, Sterling is walking into the bar.” Eliot put a pair of binoculars to his face.
“Sterling?” Dean asked. Eliot handed him the binoculars and pointed.
“See our mark?” Dean nodded. “The guy that just sat to her left.” All he could see was a suit coat and the back of his head. Eliot shifted to see around him. “Sophie, you’re clear.”
Dean watched the well dressed brunette cross the street and glanced over his shoulder as she slid into the car with them. “No what?”
Dean handed Eliot the binoculars back. “You need her distracted?” He got out of the car and went to the trunk, pulling out his suit jacket and a shirt.
“What are you doing?”
“I can be distracting.” Dean said, pulling off his t-shirt and pulling on the button down.
“You don’t know the game.” Eliot responded, grabbing the jacket.
“Gimme an ear thing and talk me through it.”
Eliot seemed to be listening to whoever was on the other end of the communication piece. He growled and shoved the jacket at him, then went to the car. He came back with Sophie’s earpiece. “Here.”
Dean looked at it, then fit it into his ear. “This is Dean.” Eliot said. “He’s a friend.”
“All right Dean, you have a plan?”
“I figure I’ll go in there and be charming for starters.” Dean said, slipping the jacket on.
“You’re going to need to get between her and Sterling.”
“Yeah, Nate, what the hell is Sterling doing here?” Eliot asked.
“I’m digging,” a different voice said.
“That’s Hardison.” Eliot explained.
“Dude, how many voices do you have in your head?” Dean asked.
“Way too fucking many.” Eliot responded.
“Okay, so you want Sterling out of the picture so I can woo her. Got it.” Dean closed the trunk.
“Dean, you’re in the market for some information. Corporate espionage is her game.”
He left Eliot standing beside the impala and crossed the street. Dean appropriated a drink from a table as he passed and headed for the bar.
“If you actually had anything more than idle threats, Mr. Sterling, we wouldn’t be sitting here at the bar having this conversation.” The mark was a good looking woman, tall and curvy and the kind of man-eating bitch that never saw a man she couldn’t use up and throw away.
“And here I thought I was being courteous, Ms. Tomas, offering you the opportunity to do the right thing.”
Dean almost tripped when he saw Sterling's face. He drank some of the alcohol and walked past, murmuring Christo. When the guy didn't react, Dean stopped, back tracking. The demon he knew as Crowley had clearly left for greener pastures.
“Don’t I know you?” Dean asked, letting his words slur a little and jabbing his hand with the drink at Sterling, letting the alcohol slosh out over the sides of the glass. “You…you’re the guy from TV, right? With the…” He gestured at his own head with his empty hand. “…the hair thing, right? Dude, where’s your hair?”
He gestured with the glass, spilling it onto Sterling’s head. Sterling yelled and jumped, which resulted in Dean’s fist, glass and all, hitting him in the eye and sending him over backward. “Dude, I am so sorry.” Dean leaned down to help him and spilled the rest of the drink directly onto Sterling’s groin.
Sterling shoved him. “Back off.” He got to his feet, brushing at his now wet pants and glared at Dean. “We aren’t done yet,” he growled at the woman before shaking a finger at Dean and stalking away.
“Nicely done.” Nate’s voice said in his ear. “Now, introduce yourself. Tell her you’re with Turner Electronics.”
Dean turned to Tomas and smiled. “Sorry. I hate to see a tool like that upsetting a beautiful woman.”
She raised an eyebrow at him. “Well, he wasn’t upsetting me, but you are more than welcome to take his place.”
Dean slid into the seat Sterling had vacated and smiled. He held out his hand. “Dean Osborne, Turner Electronics.”
“Alex Tomas, Tomas Securities.”
“She’s in information security, tell her you know who she is, that you like her work.”
Dean shook a finger at her. “I’ve heard of you. Tried to get my boss to have your reps in earlier this year to secure our information systems. He’s a tightwad though, trusts our homegrown security.”
“Isn’t that sweet.” Tomas finished her glass of wine. “Most small companies don’t realize how just one theft can end them. Corporate espionage is big business, Mr. Osborne.”
“Please, call me Dean. Let me buy you a drink.” He flagged down the bartender. “Another for the lady, please, and a beer for me.”
“So tell me, what sort of work does Turner Electronics do, Dean?”
“Tell her that you got your start with microprocessors, but recently made breakthroughs with nan-technology. Mention NASA, but be subtle.”
Dean wanted to growl at the damn voice in his ear. “Well, we mostly worked in microprocessors until recently. Our new stuff is way cooler though.” He thanked the bartender as he set down the drinks, and lifted his beer. “Nano-technology.”
That certainly sparked her interest. She leaned in, settling her hand on his thigh. “Oh, do tell.”
He grinned and leaned in closer. “Can’t talk about it, you know? The NASA people are coming in to look at it. Could be worth a lot of money.”
“For your employer.” Alex said in his ear. “Too bad you won’t see any of it.”
“His company.” Dean replied, sitting back and drinking from his beer.
“Easy now, let her come to you.” Nate said in his ear.
“Well now, what if we could change all that?” Alex said, her eyes glittering.
Dean lifted an eyebrow. “And how would we do that?”
“Buy me dinner, and I’ll tell you a little story.”
“How the hell do you function with that in your ear?” Dean asked as he put the earpiece in Eliot’s hand.
“Takes practice.” Eliot answered, pocketing the piece.
“Well, it’s hard to be charming when I’ve got your boyfriends bantering in my ear.” Dean slid behind the wheel and shook his head.
“But you hooked her.”
“Until she realizes that I’m full of shit.” Dean growled. “And what the fuck did Nate mean about stealing an electronics company?”
“It’s what he does. Look, don’t worry about that end of it. Just play the part.”
“Don’t worry about the fact that tomorrow I’m supposed to meet her with the plans to an office that doesn’t exist and the combination of a safe that doesn’t exist where there is supposed to be a product that doesn’t exist?” Dean sighed. “Fine, but if I get shot at, I’m shooting back.”
He pulled them out into traffic. “And why the fuck didn’t you tell me that Sterling was Interpol before I went in?”
“Why, would it have changed anything?” Eliot asked.
Dean chuckled. “I might have hit him harder.”
Eliot snorted. “By the time we go meet Nate in the morning, Hardison will have everything set up. You just have to get her to go after the safe.”
“Just like that?”
Eliot nodded. “Just like that.”
“Well it beats getting the shit kicked out of me by angry spirits and demons.” He drummed a rhythm on the steering wheel with his thumbs. “So…now what?”
“We go back to your place and I fuck you until sunrise.” Eliot growled suggestively.
Dean’s cock made it clear that it approved of that idea. He pressed harder on the gas pedal and raced the speedometer to the motel. All the flirting with the mark had him revving to go anyway.
At least until he got out of the car and saw a familiar figure lurking by his motel room door.
Dean shoved a twenty at Eliot as they got out of the car. “Hit that liquor store on the corner, I gotta deal with something.” He waited until Eliot walked away, though he gave the trench coat a once over first, then Dean stalked to the door. “Now is not a good time Cas.” Dean opened the door, not surprised when the angel appeared already in the room.
“You’ve been ignoring me.”
“For a reason. Get lost.”
“You’re still angry.”
“Damn fucking straight I’m angry. Get out. And don’t come back. I’m not interested.”
“Even if it’s about Sam?”
Dean turned his back on the angel, seething with guilt and anger. “Don’t. Don’t you even speak his name.”
The familiar stabbing pain cut through him, the images of Sam there, in that pit. After everything Dean had done to keep him out of it, after all the promises he’d failed to keep.
“Dean-“
“No. I mean it Castiel. Go away.”
Sam is-“ Dean whirled, punching the angel hard across the jaw. He at least had the decency to turn his head as if he felt it. “I’m sorry, Dean.”
Castiel disappeared then, leaving Dean to nurse the pain screaming through his hand and seethe. The door opened a few minutes later and Eliot looked around as if expecting someone to be there. “Everything all right?”
Dean growled and grabbed him, shoving him into the wall. “Get with the fucking and everything will be just fine.”