Surface Tension (Chapter 2) NSFW
More of the pirate!Dean/merman!Cas tentacle porn AU (that doesn't actually have any tentacle porn in it yet, shh, I'll get to it). Instead of tentacle porn in this chapter you get sub!Dean/dom!Anna fucking. Enjoy.
Chapter Summary: Dean and Anna track Crowley down and negotiate for The Impala. When they get back, Dean gets some startling news.
For Rae. Chapter 1 is over here.
-----
Anna was dabbing at the crusted blood on Dean's face when the first batch of his crew reappeared. There were three of them, and they came through the woods from the direction of the city. They were laughing and talking quietly amongst themselves until they saw Dean and Anna sitting on the sand, the empty cove behind them.
"Where's the ship?" one of them asked.
"I'm fine, thanks," Dean snapped. Then, to Anna, "OW!"
Anna said, "You've got a nice black eye and a goose egg. And you almost certainly have a concussion. Okay, I've got most of the blood off. Do you want me to finish, or do you need a break?"
"I don't need a break!" Dean grumped, and then immediately regretted it when Anna began scrubbing over his bruises again.
Another crew member pushed through the trees and onto the beach. She blinked twice and immediately asked, "Where's the ship?"
"Long story!"
The crew stood together in a nervous huddle until the rest of them arrived. "Where's the ship?" the newcomers asked.
"Would everyone stop asking me that?" Dean shouted.
"Dean..." said Anna in a warning tone.
Dean took a deep breath, turned, and explained what happened from when he returned to the ship to when he hit the water. He ended, "Crowley's probably got her halfway back to the Inferno by now." The Inferno was Crowley's base of operations - a sea port and smuggling center hidden in the inlets just a day's journey down the coast.
While the crew rumbled discontentedly amongst themselves, Anna narrowed her eyes at Dean. "Where were you from when Crowley knocked you overboard to when I pulled you out?"
"You'll never believe this, but..." He stopped mid-sentence, swallowed, and found that he didn't feel like sharing the memory of blue light reflecting off of rippling water reflecting off of wet, black hair. It belonged to him. Besides, it had been so surreal that he wasn't even sure if he could properly explain it to Anna. It would be like trying to tell someone about a dream. "But I swam into a sea cave and hid out until Crowley was gone."
Anna's eyebrows shot up. "Concussed, bleeding, and semi-conscious," she said slowly, "you found a sea cave and swam into it?"
Dean shrugged. "Amazing the things you can do when you think you're gonna die."
"Mm-hm," said Anna, shaking her head just a little. Then she stood and addressed the crew. "Listen up! The Captain's hurt. He needs to stay put for at least a week. When he's fit, we'll all find passage down to the Inferno on a ship out of Stanford and negotiate for The Impala."
"Yeah," said Dean. "Except what we're really gonna do is borrow some horses and ride down to the Inferno today. Crowley said he planned to sell Baby within a week. We don't have time to sit around or wait for another ship that's willing to take us."
Anna turned around so the crew couldn't see her lips move as she muttered, "You're in no condition to ride."
"Good thing you'll be with me to keep me from falling out of my saddle," said Dean out of the corner of his mouth.
Out loud, one of the crew members wondered, "Where are we gonna get that many horses?"
"We'll get as many as we can, and that's how many of us will make the ride," said Dean. "As long as we get three or four people down to the Inferno, that'll be enough to limp The Impala back here to pick up the rest of you."
A murmur began that sounded suspiciously like dissent. Dean spoke up over it, "The Impala has been my home since before I can remember. I'll be damned if I let Crowley have her. Now, I'll ride into the Inferno and sail her out by myself if I need to, but I sure could use a hand and I have a feeling most of you would like to keep your jobs, so who's with me?"
"I think it's an idiotic plan, but I'm with you," said Anna, stepping up beside Dean with a reluctant smile perched on her lips.
The crew took their cue from Dean's enthusiasm and Anna's support. One by one, their hands went up until the whole small crowd was in agreement.
"Great," said Dean. "Now we just have to steal some horses."
While the crew worked out who would stay and who would go with Dean, Anna pulled Dean aside. "Steal?" she said with a wince.
"Yeah, what did you think I meant by 'borrow?'" Dean scoffed.
"So, you're looking to add horse thievery to the long list of crimes you're wanted for."
"Well, I'd buy them with sexual favors, but I don't think even my ass is worth that much," Dean laughed. He sighed and wiped the joking smile off his face when he saw how serious Anna looked. "It's not like I have a choice, Anna. You know I've got nothing but the shirt on my back and The Impala, and now I don't even have her. Every penny I ever made either went towards paying off my debts with Crowley, or it went back into the crew and the ship. I'm broke."
Anna cocked her head with a sigh. "I've got a little saved up."
"Enough for four horses?"
As it turned out, Anna had enough for three horses. Dean tried to argue that they could sail The Impala with three, but in the end two crew members came along with them and Dean and Anna shared a horse. Anna sat in front, citing the fact that she didn't want Dean steering while concussed, and Dean was forced to sit on the bobbing rump of the horse with his arms clamped around Anna's waist.
Instead of swaying and dancing like the deck of a ship, the horse thudded along. And stank. And sweated until the moisture seeped into Dean's trousers. "I hate horses," he said into the back of Anna's shoulder.
"They were your bright idea," she reminded him.
"It was a stupid idea."
"I tried to tell you."
Their horse, with the extra weight, lagged behind. Dean waited until they were just out of earshot of the others before he asked Anna, "What do you know about the mer-folk?"
Anna had just been drinking from her canteen. At Dean's question, she made a tiny choking noise and coughed most of her water onto the back of her horse's head. But she recovered and tried to sound nonchalant when she said, "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
Anna twisted around in the saddle until she was looking Dean in the eye. She wore a wide-eyed, half-smiling, tight-jawed expression. Dean could never tell whether that expression meant that Anna was afraid or if it meant she was about to rip his head off.
"What's your problem? I just want to know if there are any around Stanford."
"Not Stanford," said Anna, turning back around to face the road. "Not usually. There's a school of them up the coast, but that's miles away, and they don't travel far. Not into Stanford. Nowhere near any of the shipping lanes."
"They don't like people?"
"They prefer to go unseen by humans."
Dean rested his chin on Anna's shoulder. "What do you think it would take for one of them to come down to that cove where we made anchor?"
Anna shook Dean off her shoulder with a shrug. When she finally answered, her voice was soft. "I suppose they'd either have to be very lost, or very scared," she said. "Or there would have to be something very interesting in that cove."
-----
If you didn't know what it was, the Inferno would have looked like an abandoned shipping dock in the middle of nowhere. Its piers were suspiciously well-maintained, but the sprawling warehouses on the shore were dilapidated enough that no one who happened to come across it would think that they were in use. Dean and his crew tied their horses just behind the tree line and approached the largest structure - an enormous rectangle of a building that straddled the water line, half on land and half supported by stilts out over the bay.
The door was unlocked. Once inside, it was clear that the building's outward appearance was a ruse. On the inside, it was sturdy and polished. The wooden floor extended out over the water, and there were docks and moorings built into the edge. The ceiling was high. The back wall was nonexistent. This left a hole large enough for most ships to pass through. Dean had used this hidden dock on more than one occasion. It was a perfect place to load and unload conspicuous cargo away from prying eyes.
And it was also a good place to store conspicuous ships. Docked snugly side by side were the Crossroad Deal and The Impala.
"We could just take her," said Dean, his voice echoing in the cavernous building.
Anna shook her head. "If you don't make nice with Crowley, we'll be running for the rest of our lives. Which won't be long."
"You should listen to her more often," said a familiar voice from behind them. They spun around just in time to see Crowley entering through the door they'd left standing open. He slammed it behind him. "She always was smarter than you."
Dean's two crew members reached for the weapons at their hips, but they stopped at a shake of Dean's head. "We're just here to talk," he said, spreading his hands expansively.
"Back from the dead, I see."
"It's a talent."
When a few seconds passed, the lapping of waves at the sterns of the two ships as the only sound, Crowley held his hands out expectantly. "So? Make nice with me."
"Uh," said Dean. He glanced at Anna. She gave him that wide-eyed look again, and this time he was pretty sure it was the rip-your-head-off variety. How had he managed to ride all the way here without giving any serious thought to what he would say to Crowley when he finally got an audience with him? "I'm sorry for dumping your cargo."
"And?" Crowley raised his eyebrows.
"And for going to Stanford before checking in with you."
"And?" Crowley's voice took on a dangerous edge. "Apologies are cheap. I have The Impala. I can make a good, guaranteed, instant profit from selling her. If you want her back, you'd better convince me that you're worth my while."
Dean's jaw tightened until it ached. "You don't like me that much," he said.
"God knows that's the truth."
"No," said Dean. "What God knows is that out of everyone in your little underworld, I take the most jobs and I take the most dangerous jobs. I do shit for you that no one in their right mind would agree to, because I'm desperate, and you know that, and you use it. So even if I have to dump a shipment to keep from getting pinched by the Navy, and even if I take a few days to go see my family, I still turn a better profit for you than half of the smugglers who you don't bash in the head and whose ships you don't steal. You're not selling Baby because it makes financial sense. You're doing it out of spite."
It only lasted a second, but it was the only time Dean had ever seen Crowley speechless. "I won't deny that spite is a powerful motivating factor," he said when he'd regained his voice.
"Get over yourself. The Impala is worth more to you in my hands than in anyone else's. Hell, I'll bet you've got a job lined up right now that you wish you could shove off on me. Something no one else will touch. Come on. I'll take it, whatever it is. All I need is my ship."
Anna stepped up to let her hand brush Dean's as they waited to see if the murderous rage on Crowley's face would resolve into understanding, or if he would have them all shot. Finally, the murderousness was replaced by mere petty disappointment as he said, "By sheer, idiotic, dumb luck on your part, I happen to be lining up just the sort of job you've described. It's high-risk, high-reward. The high reward means I don't trust you with it. The high risk means no one but you will take it."
"What is it?"
Crowley held up a finger. "Not so fast. You aren't even close to my good graces right now. I'm sending you on a nice, easy pick-up in Cuba first. That'll give me time to iron out the wrinkles in this big job, and it'll give you a chance to prove to me that you're not a complete waste of my time."
"Fine," said Dean. He kept his face controlled. He didn't want to let on what a boon this job in Cuba would be. He was used to running around the Caribbean, and he had plenty of contacts there if things got hairy. A simple job with a good payoff would give him time and money to get back on his feet. But it was better if he let Crowley think he was punishing him, so he tried his best to look chastened.
"Fine," said Crowley. "I'll have the specs and your papers for you in the morning."
Dean and his company almost let themselves breathe a sigh of relief as Crowley sauntered toward the door. But just before passing through it, he turned back and said with a grin, "Oh, and I'll be taking those horses you came in on as payment for the hash you made of that last job."
Dean bristled. "You didn't pay me for that job. We're even. You don't get to take more out of me because you feel like it."
"I do and I will, or The Impala stays where she is," said Crowley, clearly enjoying himself. "Don't worry. I'll be sure to think of your adorable, pouting face when I'm eating steak tomorrow."
Anna spoke up for the first time since Crowley arrived. "They're worth more sold than eaten."
"True, but I know you people are always strapped for cash, and I like the idea of taking whatever money you paid for those beasts, chewing it up, and shitting it out. Figuratively, at least. Ta-ta!" And he left, closing the door behind him.
One of the crewmen spat on the deck. "Rat bastard," he muttered.
"You can say that again," said Dean, running a hand over his face. "But he didn't shoot us. That's something."
"And we got The Impala back," Anna added. She was trying to sound optimistic, but Dean could hear a note of bitterness in her voice.
"I owe you for those horses," he said. "I'm not just saying that. I'll pay you back."
"Forget it," said Anna. "It was Crowley who took them, not you."
"But you didn't have to..."
"I said forget it."
They gratefully climbed aboard The Impala where she was moored, but the mood was bleak. They had won no victory but the right to keep sailing. That was victory enough, most of the time, but every once in a while it would have been nice not to come out two steps behind. There would be no celebration.
When the other two crew members had gone to find their bunks, Anna stopped Dean with a hand on his chest. "I'm going to make sure Crowley's thugs didn't mess with any of my things. I'll be in your cabin in ten minutes. Be ready."
Oh. So there would be a celebration after all.
Dean scuttled back to his cabin. It was small for a captain's quarters, but it was private, which was a luxury that only he and Anna enjoyed out of all the sailors on the ship. Luckily, it wasn't too badly ransacked considering how long Crowley had been in possession of the ship. Some drawers were emptied onto the floor and a foot locker was turned over, but nothing seemed to be missing. Dean would clean up later. For now all he needed was the bed.
He stripped down and assumed the position: feet flat on the floor, legs straight, elbows on the mattress, ass in the air and pointed toward the door. And there he waited, the anticipation building with each passing minute. He rested his forehead between his hands, and he had a nice view of his cock steadily hardening as he waited to find out what Anna had in store for him.
Neither of them spoke when she entered. They had done this enough times that there was no need for words, at least not yet. Dean could hear the sound of Anna kicking her shoes off, and the padding of her bare feet as she approached the bed. She placed a hand gently on his tailbone and ran it the length of his spine, down the curve of his back to his neck. She pressed down, forcing his face into the mattress. His back curved even more dramatically as he fought to keep his legs straight and his rear up, the way she liked.
He heard the crack before he felt the sting. Anna may have had a slight frame and skinny arms, but she had the technique to make a spanking feel like a lashing. His right butt cheek tingled where she'd hit him. He imagined that he could feel the handprint there, down to each finger.
He wiggled his hips with a smile. "That all you got?"
Two more slaps, one right on top of the other, tore a low moan out of Dean's throat. He flinched right when he expected the next strike to fall, his knees buckling as his body tried to retreat from the pain. But the pain didn't come. Anna rested her hand lightly on Dean's stinging ass and said, "Relax into it. Take it. Don't be afraid."
Dean straightened his knees. This time, when Anna hit him, he didn't move expect to curl his fingers into his sheets and hold on.
She was relentless, and she never missed. She didn't let herself fall into a rhythm; instead, she kept Dean guessing when the next strike would come, so that he was always quivering with the uncertainty of it. Soon, he couldn't hold back soft grunts with each slap. Then one of his grunts broke into a half-sob, and all he could do was whimper as he settled into that delicious tension: his animal brain screaming that he wanted her to stop, and his rational brain hanging on, knowing that he needed her to keep going.
What he needed was to put his body in Anna's hands and give in to her, let her decide whether to stop, or whether to keep hurting him. Whether to give him pleasure or pain. Whether to let him come, or leave him shaking with desire all night. Every day he made decisions that could get himself and his whole crew killed, his ship wrecked, his livelihood ruined. Those terrible decisions were his. He was happy to hand over to Anna decisions like how many spankings he was going to get tonight.
He liked her in control. Anna in control meant that Dean didn't have to be in control. And that was better, really. Authority suited her. Not like Dean. Authority had fallen into Dean's lap, and all these years later he still couldn't seem to figure out what to do with it.
He was a terrible captain.
"I'm sorry!" he gasped.
Anna stopped. "What did you say?"
"I'm sorry..." He was panting, gulping air, just this side of sobbing. "I... I fucked up the job. And I didn't face up to it, I... I ran back to Sam. I let Crowley get the drop on me. I lost all your savings. And I got us caught up in something... we don't even know if it's... I just fuck everything up."
With one hand on his hip and the other on his shoulder, Anna rolled Dean the rest of the way onto the bed so he was lying on his back. She hovered above him. He swallowed down tears. She watched until she was sure that none were going to spill - that he was hurt, but not broken.
Dean didn't move - he hadn't been given permission to move - while Anna pulled her clothes off layer by layer, untying every drawstring and undoing every buckle and clasp. When she was naked, she folded her clothes and put them on a chair. Only then did she crawl into bed with Dean. She crawled on top of him, climbing his body until she was kneeling above him. Her shins pinned his wrists to the mattress. Her vulva, pink and glistening like an anemone, hovered just inches from his face.
"So, make it up to me," she said.
He opened his mouth like a dying man gasping for air and kissed her. At first desperately, and then slowly, like waves lapping, the way she liked. When he pulled her clit between his lips and sucked, rolling the hood back with his tongue and licking softly, she reached down and put a hand on the back of his head to hold him close. That simple touch pulled him out of despair and into rapture. It meant his shortcomings were forgiven, and it was all the sweeter because she had made him earn it. Anyone could offer him reassurance. Only Anna could give him absolution.
She let him lick and suck at her until she was dripping wet, slick smeared on Dean's face from nose to chin. Then she carefully flipped herself around so she was on all fours, her vulva still pressed up against his mouth and his throbbing cock level with her face. While he pushed his tongue as deep inside her as he could manage, she licked his cock with the very tip of her tongue, only touching him for a second at a time.
"Please..." he groaned in a muffled voice. He had been erect since before she'd entered the room. Now he was so hard that it ached. It radiated into his abs and his thighs - an unbearable tightness begging for release. Each touch of her tongue felt like it would be the one to send him over the brink. Each time she pulled away, he jerked and rutted against the air, trying to come from sheer force of will.
But she waited until she had come first, her vagina tightening around his tongue and her clit pressed hard against his chin. Only then, after her hips had stopped bucking with the sensation of it, did she swallow him down until her lips were buried in the tangle of his hair and let him come hard and hot down her throat. She hadn't given him permission to touch her with his hands, so he grabbed the headboard and squeezed while his body shook and spasmed.
When he lay still, Anna sat up, licked her lips like a cat, and curled up at his side. He put his arms around her. Cuddling was allowed now that the game was over.
"Good boy," she whispered, tilting her head up to kiss some of her own tangy come from off his lips. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just gimme a minute," he rasped, and held her tighter.
As he focused on breathing slowly and evenly, he gradually extracted his sense of self from Anna's unbending will. Eventually he felt like a real, separate person again, but the weight of responsibility had yet to fall back onto his shoulders. For a while, he could lie there with his body buzzing, his mind free, and his ears ringing with Good boy.
"I needed that," he said.
Anna snuggled closer. "I could tell. Want me to spend the night here?"
"If you don't mind."
"I never do."
She got up to put out the light, and then rejoined Dean in bed. She was almost asleep - Dean could tell by the cadence of her breathing - when something occurred to Dean that he couldn't keep from speaking aloud.
"What were you gonna do with that money you had saved?"
Dean felt Anna blink herself awake as a flutter of eyelashes against his chest. She answered, "Doesn't really matter now, does it?"
"Yeah, but what would you have done?"
She paused. Then she huffed a rueful laugh. "Bailed your ass out the next time you got into trouble."
They were silent for several minutes, but neither one fell asleep. Finally Dean asked, quieter this time, "This job Crowley has lined up for us. Not the one in Cuba, the other one, the one he won't tell us about yet. What kind of job do you think it'll be?"
"Do you want me to be honest?" said Anna.
"Probably not, but do it anyway."
Anna took a deep breath and blew it out slowly so that the air brushed Dean's throat and made him shiver. "Whatever it is," she said, "I'm pretty sure by the end of it we'll be wishing we had just let Crowley keep our ship."
-----
True to his word, Crowley returned the next morning with a sheaf of papers: instructions, contacts, and false identification for the job in Cuba. Dean and his tiny crew towed The Impala out of the covered dock and steered her back to sea. Dean waited until the Inferno was out of sight before he truly let himself believe that Crowley had let them go. He was back in command of his ship. At least for now.
The sailing was smooth back up past Stanford and into the cove where the rest of the crew was camped out and waiting for them. Their arrival set off a chain reaction of cheering as the people on the shore looked up and saw their lost home and livelihood sailing in their direction.
"Good to see you back in one piece, Captain," seemed to be the popular sentiment.
"Hey!" Dean kept replying. "I can hold my own against Crowley." And for once, he had proof. He had brought the Impala back.
While Dean was helping his crew back onto the ship, he noticed fishing line and tackle in the bottom of one of the dinghies.
"Catch anything?" he asked.
Two of the men immediately began arguing.
"I would have speared us a hulking great octopus for dinner yesterday if this one-" and here he jerked a thumb at his companion, "hadn't pushed me and made me lose my grip."
The other sailor defended himself, "I'm telling you, I didn't see any octopus. There was a man in the water."
"We dove in that area for ages. If it was a man, I suppose he swam off with my new spear?"
Dean interrupted their squabbling, his gut twisting and his ears ringing. "Maybe you're both right. He could have been a merman."
Both men gave Dean a look. "All my years at sea, and I've never seen one. Besides, everyone knows they don't hang about where people are."
"Right," said Dean. "So, you missed?"
"Not at all. It was a fine stab," said the first man. "Whatever the thing was, it's surely dead by now."
( Next chapter)
Chapter Summary: Dean and Anna track Crowley down and negotiate for The Impala. When they get back, Dean gets some startling news.
For Rae. Chapter 1 is over here.
-----
Anna was dabbing at the crusted blood on Dean's face when the first batch of his crew reappeared. There were three of them, and they came through the woods from the direction of the city. They were laughing and talking quietly amongst themselves until they saw Dean and Anna sitting on the sand, the empty cove behind them.
"Where's the ship?" one of them asked.
"I'm fine, thanks," Dean snapped. Then, to Anna, "OW!"
Anna said, "You've got a nice black eye and a goose egg. And you almost certainly have a concussion. Okay, I've got most of the blood off. Do you want me to finish, or do you need a break?"
"I don't need a break!" Dean grumped, and then immediately regretted it when Anna began scrubbing over his bruises again.
Another crew member pushed through the trees and onto the beach. She blinked twice and immediately asked, "Where's the ship?"
"Long story!"
The crew stood together in a nervous huddle until the rest of them arrived. "Where's the ship?" the newcomers asked.
"Would everyone stop asking me that?" Dean shouted.
"Dean..." said Anna in a warning tone.
Dean took a deep breath, turned, and explained what happened from when he returned to the ship to when he hit the water. He ended, "Crowley's probably got her halfway back to the Inferno by now." The Inferno was Crowley's base of operations - a sea port and smuggling center hidden in the inlets just a day's journey down the coast.
While the crew rumbled discontentedly amongst themselves, Anna narrowed her eyes at Dean. "Where were you from when Crowley knocked you overboard to when I pulled you out?"
"You'll never believe this, but..." He stopped mid-sentence, swallowed, and found that he didn't feel like sharing the memory of blue light reflecting off of rippling water reflecting off of wet, black hair. It belonged to him. Besides, it had been so surreal that he wasn't even sure if he could properly explain it to Anna. It would be like trying to tell someone about a dream. "But I swam into a sea cave and hid out until Crowley was gone."
Anna's eyebrows shot up. "Concussed, bleeding, and semi-conscious," she said slowly, "you found a sea cave and swam into it?"
Dean shrugged. "Amazing the things you can do when you think you're gonna die."
"Mm-hm," said Anna, shaking her head just a little. Then she stood and addressed the crew. "Listen up! The Captain's hurt. He needs to stay put for at least a week. When he's fit, we'll all find passage down to the Inferno on a ship out of Stanford and negotiate for The Impala."
"Yeah," said Dean. "Except what we're really gonna do is borrow some horses and ride down to the Inferno today. Crowley said he planned to sell Baby within a week. We don't have time to sit around or wait for another ship that's willing to take us."
Anna turned around so the crew couldn't see her lips move as she muttered, "You're in no condition to ride."
"Good thing you'll be with me to keep me from falling out of my saddle," said Dean out of the corner of his mouth.
Out loud, one of the crew members wondered, "Where are we gonna get that many horses?"
"We'll get as many as we can, and that's how many of us will make the ride," said Dean. "As long as we get three or four people down to the Inferno, that'll be enough to limp The Impala back here to pick up the rest of you."
A murmur began that sounded suspiciously like dissent. Dean spoke up over it, "The Impala has been my home since before I can remember. I'll be damned if I let Crowley have her. Now, I'll ride into the Inferno and sail her out by myself if I need to, but I sure could use a hand and I have a feeling most of you would like to keep your jobs, so who's with me?"
"I think it's an idiotic plan, but I'm with you," said Anna, stepping up beside Dean with a reluctant smile perched on her lips.
The crew took their cue from Dean's enthusiasm and Anna's support. One by one, their hands went up until the whole small crowd was in agreement.
"Great," said Dean. "Now we just have to steal some horses."
While the crew worked out who would stay and who would go with Dean, Anna pulled Dean aside. "Steal?" she said with a wince.
"Yeah, what did you think I meant by 'borrow?'" Dean scoffed.
"So, you're looking to add horse thievery to the long list of crimes you're wanted for."
"Well, I'd buy them with sexual favors, but I don't think even my ass is worth that much," Dean laughed. He sighed and wiped the joking smile off his face when he saw how serious Anna looked. "It's not like I have a choice, Anna. You know I've got nothing but the shirt on my back and The Impala, and now I don't even have her. Every penny I ever made either went towards paying off my debts with Crowley, or it went back into the crew and the ship. I'm broke."
Anna cocked her head with a sigh. "I've got a little saved up."
"Enough for four horses?"
As it turned out, Anna had enough for three horses. Dean tried to argue that they could sail The Impala with three, but in the end two crew members came along with them and Dean and Anna shared a horse. Anna sat in front, citing the fact that she didn't want Dean steering while concussed, and Dean was forced to sit on the bobbing rump of the horse with his arms clamped around Anna's waist.
Instead of swaying and dancing like the deck of a ship, the horse thudded along. And stank. And sweated until the moisture seeped into Dean's trousers. "I hate horses," he said into the back of Anna's shoulder.
"They were your bright idea," she reminded him.
"It was a stupid idea."
"I tried to tell you."
Their horse, with the extra weight, lagged behind. Dean waited until they were just out of earshot of the others before he asked Anna, "What do you know about the mer-folk?"
Anna had just been drinking from her canteen. At Dean's question, she made a tiny choking noise and coughed most of her water onto the back of her horse's head. But she recovered and tried to sound nonchalant when she said, "Why do you ask?"
"Just curious."
Anna twisted around in the saddle until she was looking Dean in the eye. She wore a wide-eyed, half-smiling, tight-jawed expression. Dean could never tell whether that expression meant that Anna was afraid or if it meant she was about to rip his head off.
"What's your problem? I just want to know if there are any around Stanford."
"Not Stanford," said Anna, turning back around to face the road. "Not usually. There's a school of them up the coast, but that's miles away, and they don't travel far. Not into Stanford. Nowhere near any of the shipping lanes."
"They don't like people?"
"They prefer to go unseen by humans."
Dean rested his chin on Anna's shoulder. "What do you think it would take for one of them to come down to that cove where we made anchor?"
Anna shook Dean off her shoulder with a shrug. When she finally answered, her voice was soft. "I suppose they'd either have to be very lost, or very scared," she said. "Or there would have to be something very interesting in that cove."
-----
If you didn't know what it was, the Inferno would have looked like an abandoned shipping dock in the middle of nowhere. Its piers were suspiciously well-maintained, but the sprawling warehouses on the shore were dilapidated enough that no one who happened to come across it would think that they were in use. Dean and his crew tied their horses just behind the tree line and approached the largest structure - an enormous rectangle of a building that straddled the water line, half on land and half supported by stilts out over the bay.
The door was unlocked. Once inside, it was clear that the building's outward appearance was a ruse. On the inside, it was sturdy and polished. The wooden floor extended out over the water, and there were docks and moorings built into the edge. The ceiling was high. The back wall was nonexistent. This left a hole large enough for most ships to pass through. Dean had used this hidden dock on more than one occasion. It was a perfect place to load and unload conspicuous cargo away from prying eyes.
And it was also a good place to store conspicuous ships. Docked snugly side by side were the Crossroad Deal and The Impala.
"We could just take her," said Dean, his voice echoing in the cavernous building.
Anna shook her head. "If you don't make nice with Crowley, we'll be running for the rest of our lives. Which won't be long."
"You should listen to her more often," said a familiar voice from behind them. They spun around just in time to see Crowley entering through the door they'd left standing open. He slammed it behind him. "She always was smarter than you."
Dean's two crew members reached for the weapons at their hips, but they stopped at a shake of Dean's head. "We're just here to talk," he said, spreading his hands expansively.
"Back from the dead, I see."
"It's a talent."
When a few seconds passed, the lapping of waves at the sterns of the two ships as the only sound, Crowley held his hands out expectantly. "So? Make nice with me."
"Uh," said Dean. He glanced at Anna. She gave him that wide-eyed look again, and this time he was pretty sure it was the rip-your-head-off variety. How had he managed to ride all the way here without giving any serious thought to what he would say to Crowley when he finally got an audience with him? "I'm sorry for dumping your cargo."
"And?" Crowley raised his eyebrows.
"And for going to Stanford before checking in with you."
"And?" Crowley's voice took on a dangerous edge. "Apologies are cheap. I have The Impala. I can make a good, guaranteed, instant profit from selling her. If you want her back, you'd better convince me that you're worth my while."
Dean's jaw tightened until it ached. "You don't like me that much," he said.
"God knows that's the truth."
"No," said Dean. "What God knows is that out of everyone in your little underworld, I take the most jobs and I take the most dangerous jobs. I do shit for you that no one in their right mind would agree to, because I'm desperate, and you know that, and you use it. So even if I have to dump a shipment to keep from getting pinched by the Navy, and even if I take a few days to go see my family, I still turn a better profit for you than half of the smugglers who you don't bash in the head and whose ships you don't steal. You're not selling Baby because it makes financial sense. You're doing it out of spite."
It only lasted a second, but it was the only time Dean had ever seen Crowley speechless. "I won't deny that spite is a powerful motivating factor," he said when he'd regained his voice.
"Get over yourself. The Impala is worth more to you in my hands than in anyone else's. Hell, I'll bet you've got a job lined up right now that you wish you could shove off on me. Something no one else will touch. Come on. I'll take it, whatever it is. All I need is my ship."
Anna stepped up to let her hand brush Dean's as they waited to see if the murderous rage on Crowley's face would resolve into understanding, or if he would have them all shot. Finally, the murderousness was replaced by mere petty disappointment as he said, "By sheer, idiotic, dumb luck on your part, I happen to be lining up just the sort of job you've described. It's high-risk, high-reward. The high reward means I don't trust you with it. The high risk means no one but you will take it."
"What is it?"
Crowley held up a finger. "Not so fast. You aren't even close to my good graces right now. I'm sending you on a nice, easy pick-up in Cuba first. That'll give me time to iron out the wrinkles in this big job, and it'll give you a chance to prove to me that you're not a complete waste of my time."
"Fine," said Dean. He kept his face controlled. He didn't want to let on what a boon this job in Cuba would be. He was used to running around the Caribbean, and he had plenty of contacts there if things got hairy. A simple job with a good payoff would give him time and money to get back on his feet. But it was better if he let Crowley think he was punishing him, so he tried his best to look chastened.
"Fine," said Crowley. "I'll have the specs and your papers for you in the morning."
Dean and his company almost let themselves breathe a sigh of relief as Crowley sauntered toward the door. But just before passing through it, he turned back and said with a grin, "Oh, and I'll be taking those horses you came in on as payment for the hash you made of that last job."
Dean bristled. "You didn't pay me for that job. We're even. You don't get to take more out of me because you feel like it."
"I do and I will, or The Impala stays where she is," said Crowley, clearly enjoying himself. "Don't worry. I'll be sure to think of your adorable, pouting face when I'm eating steak tomorrow."
Anna spoke up for the first time since Crowley arrived. "They're worth more sold than eaten."
"True, but I know you people are always strapped for cash, and I like the idea of taking whatever money you paid for those beasts, chewing it up, and shitting it out. Figuratively, at least. Ta-ta!" And he left, closing the door behind him.
One of the crewmen spat on the deck. "Rat bastard," he muttered.
"You can say that again," said Dean, running a hand over his face. "But he didn't shoot us. That's something."
"And we got The Impala back," Anna added. She was trying to sound optimistic, but Dean could hear a note of bitterness in her voice.
"I owe you for those horses," he said. "I'm not just saying that. I'll pay you back."
"Forget it," said Anna. "It was Crowley who took them, not you."
"But you didn't have to..."
"I said forget it."
They gratefully climbed aboard The Impala where she was moored, but the mood was bleak. They had won no victory but the right to keep sailing. That was victory enough, most of the time, but every once in a while it would have been nice not to come out two steps behind. There would be no celebration.
When the other two crew members had gone to find their bunks, Anna stopped Dean with a hand on his chest. "I'm going to make sure Crowley's thugs didn't mess with any of my things. I'll be in your cabin in ten minutes. Be ready."
Oh. So there would be a celebration after all.
Dean scuttled back to his cabin. It was small for a captain's quarters, but it was private, which was a luxury that only he and Anna enjoyed out of all the sailors on the ship. Luckily, it wasn't too badly ransacked considering how long Crowley had been in possession of the ship. Some drawers were emptied onto the floor and a foot locker was turned over, but nothing seemed to be missing. Dean would clean up later. For now all he needed was the bed.
He stripped down and assumed the position: feet flat on the floor, legs straight, elbows on the mattress, ass in the air and pointed toward the door. And there he waited, the anticipation building with each passing minute. He rested his forehead between his hands, and he had a nice view of his cock steadily hardening as he waited to find out what Anna had in store for him.
Neither of them spoke when she entered. They had done this enough times that there was no need for words, at least not yet. Dean could hear the sound of Anna kicking her shoes off, and the padding of her bare feet as she approached the bed. She placed a hand gently on his tailbone and ran it the length of his spine, down the curve of his back to his neck. She pressed down, forcing his face into the mattress. His back curved even more dramatically as he fought to keep his legs straight and his rear up, the way she liked.
He heard the crack before he felt the sting. Anna may have had a slight frame and skinny arms, but she had the technique to make a spanking feel like a lashing. His right butt cheek tingled where she'd hit him. He imagined that he could feel the handprint there, down to each finger.
He wiggled his hips with a smile. "That all you got?"
Two more slaps, one right on top of the other, tore a low moan out of Dean's throat. He flinched right when he expected the next strike to fall, his knees buckling as his body tried to retreat from the pain. But the pain didn't come. Anna rested her hand lightly on Dean's stinging ass and said, "Relax into it. Take it. Don't be afraid."
Dean straightened his knees. This time, when Anna hit him, he didn't move expect to curl his fingers into his sheets and hold on.
She was relentless, and she never missed. She didn't let herself fall into a rhythm; instead, she kept Dean guessing when the next strike would come, so that he was always quivering with the uncertainty of it. Soon, he couldn't hold back soft grunts with each slap. Then one of his grunts broke into a half-sob, and all he could do was whimper as he settled into that delicious tension: his animal brain screaming that he wanted her to stop, and his rational brain hanging on, knowing that he needed her to keep going.
What he needed was to put his body in Anna's hands and give in to her, let her decide whether to stop, or whether to keep hurting him. Whether to give him pleasure or pain. Whether to let him come, or leave him shaking with desire all night. Every day he made decisions that could get himself and his whole crew killed, his ship wrecked, his livelihood ruined. Those terrible decisions were his. He was happy to hand over to Anna decisions like how many spankings he was going to get tonight.
He liked her in control. Anna in control meant that Dean didn't have to be in control. And that was better, really. Authority suited her. Not like Dean. Authority had fallen into Dean's lap, and all these years later he still couldn't seem to figure out what to do with it.
He was a terrible captain.
"I'm sorry!" he gasped.
Anna stopped. "What did you say?"
"I'm sorry..." He was panting, gulping air, just this side of sobbing. "I... I fucked up the job. And I didn't face up to it, I... I ran back to Sam. I let Crowley get the drop on me. I lost all your savings. And I got us caught up in something... we don't even know if it's... I just fuck everything up."
With one hand on his hip and the other on his shoulder, Anna rolled Dean the rest of the way onto the bed so he was lying on his back. She hovered above him. He swallowed down tears. She watched until she was sure that none were going to spill - that he was hurt, but not broken.
Dean didn't move - he hadn't been given permission to move - while Anna pulled her clothes off layer by layer, untying every drawstring and undoing every buckle and clasp. When she was naked, she folded her clothes and put them on a chair. Only then did she crawl into bed with Dean. She crawled on top of him, climbing his body until she was kneeling above him. Her shins pinned his wrists to the mattress. Her vulva, pink and glistening like an anemone, hovered just inches from his face.
"So, make it up to me," she said.
He opened his mouth like a dying man gasping for air and kissed her. At first desperately, and then slowly, like waves lapping, the way she liked. When he pulled her clit between his lips and sucked, rolling the hood back with his tongue and licking softly, she reached down and put a hand on the back of his head to hold him close. That simple touch pulled him out of despair and into rapture. It meant his shortcomings were forgiven, and it was all the sweeter because she had made him earn it. Anyone could offer him reassurance. Only Anna could give him absolution.
She let him lick and suck at her until she was dripping wet, slick smeared on Dean's face from nose to chin. Then she carefully flipped herself around so she was on all fours, her vulva still pressed up against his mouth and his throbbing cock level with her face. While he pushed his tongue as deep inside her as he could manage, she licked his cock with the very tip of her tongue, only touching him for a second at a time.
"Please..." he groaned in a muffled voice. He had been erect since before she'd entered the room. Now he was so hard that it ached. It radiated into his abs and his thighs - an unbearable tightness begging for release. Each touch of her tongue felt like it would be the one to send him over the brink. Each time she pulled away, he jerked and rutted against the air, trying to come from sheer force of will.
But she waited until she had come first, her vagina tightening around his tongue and her clit pressed hard against his chin. Only then, after her hips had stopped bucking with the sensation of it, did she swallow him down until her lips were buried in the tangle of his hair and let him come hard and hot down her throat. She hadn't given him permission to touch her with his hands, so he grabbed the headboard and squeezed while his body shook and spasmed.
When he lay still, Anna sat up, licked her lips like a cat, and curled up at his side. He put his arms around her. Cuddling was allowed now that the game was over.
"Good boy," she whispered, tilting her head up to kiss some of her own tangy come from off his lips. "You okay?"
"Yeah, just gimme a minute," he rasped, and held her tighter.
As he focused on breathing slowly and evenly, he gradually extracted his sense of self from Anna's unbending will. Eventually he felt like a real, separate person again, but the weight of responsibility had yet to fall back onto his shoulders. For a while, he could lie there with his body buzzing, his mind free, and his ears ringing with Good boy.
"I needed that," he said.
Anna snuggled closer. "I could tell. Want me to spend the night here?"
"If you don't mind."
"I never do."
She got up to put out the light, and then rejoined Dean in bed. She was almost asleep - Dean could tell by the cadence of her breathing - when something occurred to Dean that he couldn't keep from speaking aloud.
"What were you gonna do with that money you had saved?"
Dean felt Anna blink herself awake as a flutter of eyelashes against his chest. She answered, "Doesn't really matter now, does it?"
"Yeah, but what would you have done?"
She paused. Then she huffed a rueful laugh. "Bailed your ass out the next time you got into trouble."
They were silent for several minutes, but neither one fell asleep. Finally Dean asked, quieter this time, "This job Crowley has lined up for us. Not the one in Cuba, the other one, the one he won't tell us about yet. What kind of job do you think it'll be?"
"Do you want me to be honest?" said Anna.
"Probably not, but do it anyway."
Anna took a deep breath and blew it out slowly so that the air brushed Dean's throat and made him shiver. "Whatever it is," she said, "I'm pretty sure by the end of it we'll be wishing we had just let Crowley keep our ship."
-----
True to his word, Crowley returned the next morning with a sheaf of papers: instructions, contacts, and false identification for the job in Cuba. Dean and his tiny crew towed The Impala out of the covered dock and steered her back to sea. Dean waited until the Inferno was out of sight before he truly let himself believe that Crowley had let them go. He was back in command of his ship. At least for now.
The sailing was smooth back up past Stanford and into the cove where the rest of the crew was camped out and waiting for them. Their arrival set off a chain reaction of cheering as the people on the shore looked up and saw their lost home and livelihood sailing in their direction.
"Good to see you back in one piece, Captain," seemed to be the popular sentiment.
"Hey!" Dean kept replying. "I can hold my own against Crowley." And for once, he had proof. He had brought the Impala back.
While Dean was helping his crew back onto the ship, he noticed fishing line and tackle in the bottom of one of the dinghies.
"Catch anything?" he asked.
Two of the men immediately began arguing.
"I would have speared us a hulking great octopus for dinner yesterday if this one-" and here he jerked a thumb at his companion, "hadn't pushed me and made me lose my grip."
The other sailor defended himself, "I'm telling you, I didn't see any octopus. There was a man in the water."
"We dove in that area for ages. If it was a man, I suppose he swam off with my new spear?"
Dean interrupted their squabbling, his gut twisting and his ears ringing. "Maybe you're both right. He could have been a merman."
Both men gave Dean a look. "All my years at sea, and I've never seen one. Besides, everyone knows they don't hang about where people are."
"Right," said Dean. "So, you missed?"
"Not at all. It was a fine stab," said the first man. "Whatever the thing was, it's surely dead by now."
( Next chapter)