You Know My Name: Red Sky At Morning Missing Scene
Title: You Know My Name
Author: rose_wraith
Character: Dean/Bela
Word Count: 385
Rating: PG-13-ish?
Summary: Season 3, Episode 6, Red Sky At Morning
Warnings: Spoilers for Red Sky At Morning
Disclaimer: Not mine. My first Supernatural fic, and I might bruise Bela before I put her back.
Bela can practically see the progression of Dean's mind in his face, it's all there, written in his expression and in his eyes. She almost feels like cackling, but her own face remains merely interested, a quirk of the brow as her eyes pass over his tuxedo-ed form. Is this chick for real? followed by a rather obvious undressing her with his eyes, turning away, thinking that she's mocking him--and the thought had crossed her mind--before another glance, this time imagining her wrapped around him or perhaps shoved on top of the hood of his car, in nothing but the diamonds around her neck, a ripped dress somewhere on the ground. Then his thoughts turn to everything she had done--shot Sam, and more importantly had his car towed, and with one more glance, he replies.
"Don't objectify me."
He's so uncomfortable in the tux and at the party that it's almost endearing, in an annoying 'I want to strangle you' sort of way, and she could have laughed as easily as she scoffed at is gum on the champagne fountain. She doesn't miss his easy fall into playing her husband, or the way he insults her, paired with a slip of the hand over her arse and his eyes down her dress.
Surprisingly, she doesn't mind. She always had a thing for the good guys, the unattainable. Plus, it doesn't hurt that she looks damn good on his arm. Even more surprisingly, she does mind when she has to steal the Hand of Glory, pressing him up against a wall and kissing him hard briefly.
He stands there, stunned for a moment, as if he can't believe that just happened, and almost arrogantly, she smirks at him, and he comes back to his senses, and his hand wipes his mouth, as if she is as evil and foul as she--well, is--and he asks in a slightly deeper voice: "What was that for?"
Bela feels a twinge, somewhere in that long-forgotten and longer-suppressed region of her mind called a conscience, and feels like saying it was just a way to trade out the hand with something of lesser value, but instead she tells another truth, just not the most important one. "Because you know my name."
And she still looks immaculate.
Author: rose_wraith
Character: Dean/Bela
Word Count: 385
Rating: PG-13-ish?
Summary: Season 3, Episode 6, Red Sky At Morning
Warnings: Spoilers for Red Sky At Morning
Disclaimer: Not mine. My first Supernatural fic, and I might bruise Bela before I put her back.
Bela can practically see the progression of Dean's mind in his face, it's all there, written in his expression and in his eyes. She almost feels like cackling, but her own face remains merely interested, a quirk of the brow as her eyes pass over his tuxedo-ed form. Is this chick for real? followed by a rather obvious undressing her with his eyes, turning away, thinking that she's mocking him--and the thought had crossed her mind--before another glance, this time imagining her wrapped around him or perhaps shoved on top of the hood of his car, in nothing but the diamonds around her neck, a ripped dress somewhere on the ground. Then his thoughts turn to everything she had done--shot Sam, and more importantly had his car towed, and with one more glance, he replies.
"Don't objectify me."
He's so uncomfortable in the tux and at the party that it's almost endearing, in an annoying 'I want to strangle you' sort of way, and she could have laughed as easily as she scoffed at is gum on the champagne fountain. She doesn't miss his easy fall into playing her husband, or the way he insults her, paired with a slip of the hand over her arse and his eyes down her dress.
Surprisingly, she doesn't mind. She always had a thing for the good guys, the unattainable. Plus, it doesn't hurt that she looks damn good on his arm. Even more surprisingly, she does mind when she has to steal the Hand of Glory, pressing him up against a wall and kissing him hard briefly.
He stands there, stunned for a moment, as if he can't believe that just happened, and almost arrogantly, she smirks at him, and he comes back to his senses, and his hand wipes his mouth, as if she is as evil and foul as she--well, is--and he asks in a slightly deeper voice: "What was that for?"
Bela feels a twinge, somewhere in that long-forgotten and longer-suppressed region of her mind called a conscience, and feels like saying it was just a way to trade out the hand with something of lesser value, but instead she tells another truth, just not the most important one. "Because you know my name."
And she still looks immaculate.