Hi guys.

I know I have another fic on the go that I haven't updated in a while but this one popped up late last night. I thought it'd be interesting to see how Dean would react to a female version of himself. Not sure if it's been done... but what the heck, right? :P

As always, please review. Here it is:



After half an hour in the bathroom she’d stepped out looking like something Dean usually chased after in local pubs, bars and pool halls on the road. A silky looking black blouse with absolutely no back on it loosely wound its way from the back of her neck, over all the important stuff and ignored all of the not so important stuff. It stopped just below her navel, and hung off of her like some sort of exotic curtain. The damned thing left just enough to the imagination to make it worth anyone’s while who cared to look at her.
She wore her hair down and it fell it soft brown waves down to just below her shoulders. Gold and red natural highlights caught and shone in the light of the dingy motel room. A pair of dark jeans caressed long legs that went on forever and ended with strappy sandaled little feet. She wore no makeup, and didn’t need it. Any type of paint on her face would have taken away from her incredibly blue eyes. If he didn’t know any better they would have almost seemed innocent. Wait no… the clothes and the cocky little smile on her pouty lips would have been enough to tip him off. Cal was a lot of things all right and none of them innocent. One short round of poker had been enough to learn that little lesson.
She looked so damned good it was almost criminal and as far as Dean was concerned it should have been. Always the first one with something smart to say, he just couldn’t help the comment that came out of his mouth. “Jesus, all you’re missing is the spandex skirt to take that outfit where it belongs.”
“Sorry hun, I don’t do spandex. Too eighties for my tastes.” She looked good and she knew it. Oh she was all sass and on top of it all she was picking on his tastes again. It was driving him more than a little crazy. So the hell what if he liked Metallica and Black Sabbath? As far as he was concerned ‘mullet rock’ was the only music worth listening to. Sure his clothes are a little dated… they were comfortable though, and they were perfect for hunting. He had to be doing something right, he never had any problems picking up when he wanted to. As for the car… well the comment she’d made earlier had just been uncalled for. His baby was a classic. Eighties, schmeighties… she was just jealous of his awesome Metallicar.
And all that aside, how the hell were they supposed to protect her when she insisted on leaving the motel dressed like… like some pool hall floozy? Little miss bad-girl Slayer had gotten in over her head and needed their help to get out of it. Demon slayer huh? He doubted it. If there even were such things she’d have to have more sense than that to be one. Those clothes were not exactly the ‘blending in’ kind that were necessary for people to feel comfortable talking around you like you weren’t even there. They weren’t going to get anything accomplished tonight except finding Cal something to help her scratch an itch. He didn’t hesitate to put his thought into words either. It was just insulting.
“Oh, so you’re above spandex but you’ll put that thing on and let it show you off all your assets all the way down to your belly button?” On any one else Dean would have considered it a work of art…truly. On Cal it did nothing but annoy the hell out of him. He didn’t know whether to wipe his chin or avert his eyes.
“What this old thing?” she asked coyly. “It’s just a little something I picked up for just such an occasion…I mean, we are hitting the nightlife tonight right? Hunting recon?” The incredulous look he gave her made her want to laugh. It was just too easy to get a rise out of the boy… this was almost as fun as beating him at his own fixed poker game the night before. She didn’t know why he was so surprised… a girl had to make a living right? She had a couple of tricks up her sleeve…A girl had to take care of herself, didn’t she? That hundred she’d taken off his hands yesterday certainly would help her do that, she thought to herself with a Cheshire cat grin.
“A little less of that thing you’re trying to wear sweetheart and it’ll disappear entirely.” Ha, who did he think he was kidding? This was her best cruising blouse. It had never failed her. Not once. She was getting to him and she was really enjoying it.
“What’s the matter Dean, never seen skin before?”
He sputtered at that a little before recovering with a wisecrack. She had him off balance and he hated it. “Oh, I’ve seen my fair share… doesn’t mean I’m just going to sit back and let you go out like that. I mean there’s showing a little skin and then there’s just plain indecent.”
“Um Dean…I hate to point this out but you tend to lean toward the indecent ones yourself.” Sam just couldn’t resist putting his two cents in. ‘Hate to point it out’ he says… yeah right. The smirk his little brother couldn’t hide told Dean just exactly how much Sam really was enjoying this little scene.
“Just shut up Sam. You are not helping.”
“Ooh, Sam hit a nerve there did he?” Caitlin O’Sullivan, half Irish, half French Canadian and fifth generation demon hunter did not back down for anyone. If Cal wanted to wear her slinky little number she darned well would. There was absolutely nothing Dean Winchester, ladies man extraordinaire, could say to change her mind about it. Of course that didn’t mean she wouldn’t have a little fun playing with him in the process. That had been the reason she’d picked that particular blouse in the first place
.
Dean was really starting to hate the stubborn set to her jaw that had impressed him so much when they’d first met twenty four hours earlier. Back then it had been directed at the spirit they’d been trying to kill… the one she’d held off while he and Sam finished the salt and burn of its old decaying bones. The tip of the fresh scar peeked out from behind the scrap of black silkiness just next to her belly button. She’d really held her own, but they’d had to save her ass then too. The girl was an accident prone ticking time bomb.
Now after all that he couldn’t believe she was giving him ‘I won’t back down’ over something stupid like a practically non-existent blouse. Blouse. Right. Sure, if you could even call it that More like a wide ribbon…Oh, and let’s not even start on the jeans… good God if they were any more form fitting they’d be painted on! They’d be beating off the sleaze bags with their pool cues. If they were lucky the night wouldn’t end in a brawl. There would be no information gleaning tonight. On top of it all, he wouldn’t be able to have any fun himself. Man, tonight was really going to suck.

Awesome. Loved it. Hope there's more.

Very witty. I love it. Update soon please!

:D Thanks guys! Really glad you like it.
It's turning out to be one of those I just can't put down...
I'm working on the update right now, so it'll probably be up tomorrow night.

YAYA!

Cant wait! :lol:

me too.

Boy, Dean has no idea what he got himself into with this Cal chick... :lol:

So this next bit is what happens at the bar that night. Let me know what you think, k?

Here it is:



The bar was just another variation of the usual local entertainment. Men in many shades of rough lounged pretty much everywhere. Women in very little clothing hung off the bar and the men. There was one like it in pretty much every small town the boys had ever passed through. It was a scene Dean was familiar with, felt almost at home in.
Round wooden tables were scattered around in the dim room. The bar stretched itself all along the one wall at the back. A huge mirror stretched from one wall to the other behind the bar, calling attention to the impressive stock pile of bottles of alcohol that were lined up in rows on the counter before it. Three or four pool tables and a dart board in one corner of the room were surrounded by a respectable sized group of young men and women. That was where he gravitated. There would be a paycheck in that corner… and possibly a ‘friend’ for the night.
Alcohol and music flowed as freely as the women and the pick up lines. Dean couldn’t help but smile. This was definitely what he’d needed. He all but forgot Cal as he sauntered toward the bar and his first bottle. The red head who was tending bar gave him a wink and a smile along with the beer. She all but devoured him with her eyes as he took his first long swallow…hmm, maybe the night wouldn’t be as bad as he thought…

Cal had refused to be seen entering the bar with him. After his pig-headed response to her clothes she didn’t want the man anywhere near her, especially at the bar. Besides, she liked to make an entrance. She couldn’t achieve the head-turning effect she wanted with big brooding Dean glaring daggers at anything male that chanced a glance her way. So she’d stayed behind in the car to ‘fix-her-makeup’. She wasn’t wearing any of course. Wait, does lip gloss count? It did when she took her sweet-ass time applying it.
He’d argued her black and blue of course. Mostly because he didn’t trust her alone in his little black car… what he saw in the darned thing she’d never understand. Her own little red ’96 Mustang convertible was so much prettier to look at than his old hunk of junk…Sleek, modern and above all quiet. Okay, quiet-er…
Anyway, she’d finally agreed to let Sam stay behind with her. Honestly there hadn’t been much point. She’s a big girl. She can take care of herself and had been doing it for quite a few years now. Still, Dean was a bit of a mother hen. Or maybe it was caveman? Whatever. The point is a girl asks for a little help with a demon issue and suddenly she’s a damsel in distress. Ha! She does damsel in distress like she does spandex skirts. Of course the whole needy female bit was working to her advantage at the moment so Cal decided that she’d let it slide for a little while.

She waited just long enough to be sure Dean was settled in the bar. The theory was that he’d be distracted enough by the bimbo of the moment not to notice the heads turn her way when she walked through the door. Playing bimbo was great for intel. Especially when you’re sitting in a large group of men. They dote all over the girl all night long to keep her attention, and they assume she’s an airhead so they talk as freely as if she weren’t even there. Free booze, her pick of men and all the latest gossip. It was awesome. This was going to be a really great night.

“Sweet Jesus, look at that!” It was a hushed whisper of reverence. Dean hadn’t even heard the jingle of the door opening when she came in. He’d just started to hustle the guy he was playing pool with and was really into the game when he’d heard the whisper. The macho-cowboy type had stood frozen at the sight of her. All the men in the room had. Scruffy looking pervs, the lot of ‘em. But hey, if she wanted to parade around half naked then that was fine by him. That meant that the ladies in the bar would need a little more attention… something he was more than willing to supply them with. Who knew? Maybe Sammy would give a little fun a go for a change too.
She strutted her stuff all the way to the bar and a string of men trailed in her wake. She ordered a beer in a smoky voice that was all but drowned out with sandpapery voices asking for it to be put on their bill. Sam took that moment to sneak past the group and make a hasty retreat to Dean’s corner. “She’s as bad as you are, you know that don’t you?” he asked his brother wryly. “Oh Sammy, I’m not bad. I’m just drawn that way.” He grinned mischief and sent another wink to the bartender before setting up his next shot on the table. Sam just rolled his eyes and sat down.
It didn’t take long for things to settle down. Dean was working a hustle and started raking it in at the pool tables while Annie sat prettily, flirting with beefcake after beefcake. He tried to pretend he was okay with it all. It actually wasn’t as bad as he’d expected… at least not right away. Sam sat in the corner nursing just the one beer. He didn’t need a vision to foresee how the night would end. A storm was brewing and he wanted to be clear headed so he could haul his two hot-heads out of there when it hit.
You see, the thing about Cal O’Sullivan is that she never did anything halfway. It was go big, or go home all the way for that girl and Dean had yet to learn that lesson. He would soon enough though. A lot sooner than any of them expected.

The storm head came in the shape of the two-hundred eighty pound macho-cowboy. He’d been buying Cal drink after drink for the better part of the last three hours. Must’ve spent close to a hundred dollars on her. When the intel started getting stale, she decided she was tired of him and walked away to join the Winchester boys. You know, play a little pool and hustle a share of Dean’s winnings from him before they went back to the motel. It had been too long since the last time she’d annoyed him. A whole hour at least. Yep, definitely too long.
Cal had been so busy plotting the demise of Dean’s winnings as she got up from the table she didn’t even notice Macho-man getting up too. Suddenly the pointy-booted mammoth was towering over her and looking plenty pissed off. “Where d’you think you’re goin’ sugah? We were just gettin’ t’know each other.” He reeked of booze, butts and something nasty sour. Why hadn’t she noticed this before? Wrinkling her nose delicately at the onslaught she arched her brow at him and dragged out the sass she normally reserved for a particularly pig-headed hunter.
“Oh, hun, I hate to disappoint you but I think I’ve gotten to know quite enough of you. Period.” Big fuzzy caterpillar eyebrows shot his bony, caveman-like brow at the surprise. This was a man who wasn’t used to hearing ‘no’. “Really? Ya think so? Well, I beg to differ.” He said grabbing hold of her wrist and squeezing hard. Looked like he didn’t get ‘no’ because he was used to just taking whatever he wanted whether it was his or not. She was insulted he’d even consider trying it.

Sam saw the giant move, saw him stand in Cal’s way and watched him put his hands on her. It happened so fast he didn’t even have the time to blink. Didn’t want to either. He’d seen what she could do to a spirit… and to his brother. The bigger they are, the harder they fall. It was going to be one hell of a show. He actually felt bad for ‘He-Man’, the guy didn’t stand a chance.

Dean had been practically lying on the pool table, trying to get the eight ball into the corner pocket for the benefit of the bartender. The looks she’d been giving him all night could have melted icebergs. They sure were warming him up nicely. Unfortunately when he looked up to judge the effect it’d had on her, he caught sight of the Incredible Hulk grabbing at Cal’s wrist. Then all he could see was red.

“Listen, um… what was your name again? Oh, never mind. I’ll just call you tall, dark and smelly.” She smiled sweetly watching as the insult sunk in. His face went from ugly pro-wrestler red to angry bull maroon before she gave him his warning. “So dude, where I come from when a girl says she’s done with you she walks away. I think you’d best let me do that if you value your health.”
She’d had enough of this crap already. It was time for him to give it up or get his ass kicked. What the hell, right? Who was she to pass up the opportunity to break in her new strappy sandals? And what better way then to do that than by taking this hulk down a notch or two?
“Oh, I don’t think so darlin’. Y’see, you’re comin’ home with me tonight. So let’s go already.” His mistake had been letting go of her wrist to try and grab her by the waist. That had been Dean’s mistake the day before too. Sam popped another peanut in his mouth as he watched the scene unfold.
The moment his big meaty hand had let go of her wrist she swung her free hand up in a tight fist connecting it with the soft underside of his jaw. His head snapped hard to the side and blood poured out of his newly split lip. “Lady, you done just pissed me off.” He growled at her and lunged. She stepped to the side just fast enough for him to soar right past her and into one of the empty tables like a rampaging bull at the sight of a red cape.
“Baby, I am no lady.” She said rubbing her hands on her jeans. One last look at the satisfying mess she’d made of the guy and she turned her back on him and headed toward the pool tables again.

Cal had been positive she’d knocked him out cold otherwise she’d never have turned her back on him. So when she felt the none too gentle finger tapping her on the shoulder as she walked away she really wasn’t expecting it. The element of surprise was the only reason he’d managed to haul her ass over his shoulder.
She’d been about to let out a very unflattering stream of insults as a prelude to physically making him put her down when she heard a very familiar, very angry voice. “Put. Her. Down.” Only Dean Winchester could turn three normally harmless words into a threat on your life.
Cal may annoy the hell out of him but she’d asked him for help. He’d been raised a warrior, a protector of the weak and innocent. Though he very seriously doubted she was either, he would not stand idly by as some jerk tried to haul her away. A gallant gesture right? He sure thought so. She on the other hand… not so much.
“Dean.” It wasn’t his name, is was a warning to back off. “I’ve got this.” She told him from her position on the Lone Rider’s shoulder. “You heard the gal, tough guy. She’s got me. So get lost already.” Dean just glared menacingly. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size He-Man?” “What? Like you, small fry?”
The thing with tall, muscled beefcakes is that they’re not too quick on the uptake. The same could be said about slightly shorter, smart-assed Winchester men who couldn’t keep their noses out of other people’s business… but that was beside the point.
The beefcake made his second mistake of the night insulting Dean, and his last and final mistake when he put Cal down to take care of business. Also with Dean. But not before the last and final insult to Cal. “You stay put little lady. I’ll be back for you as soon as I take care of the pipsqueak.” Then turned his back on her to get to Dean.
Rule number one: Do not piss of a girl. It never ends well. They hold grudges that last far beyond a fist fight and a few beers. Rule number two: Do not turn your back on said girl once you’ve effectively pissed her off. You will regret it. Cowboy sure did.

One swift kick and her foot connected with something sensitive from behind that brought Cowboy to his knees. She’d told Dean she had this one. Did he listen? Of course not. He just had to get a money shot in once the guy was down. She’d had enough of the damsel in distress crap. It’s about time Dean learned she ate guys like Cowboy for breakfast.
So she played dirty and grabbed the first thing handy which just happened to be a half full bottle of beer. In true bar brawl fashion she smashed it over Cowboy’s head and ended the night for him once and for all. Then as she caught the red-headed bartender’s eye “You’d better call this guy a cab. He’s just had one too many.” Cal called out to her. Funny, the redhead didn’t look too impressed although Cal couldn’t figure out for the life of her why…
Dean practically had smoke coming out of his ears he was so mad. “What the hell was that?” “I told you I had the guy Dean.” He looked to Sam to back him up but found nothing but a helpless shrug. “Sweetheart, I don’t know what fight you were watching but in the one I saw He-Man there had you. Remember? If I hadn’t stepped in when I did you’d be on your way to the farm to be his little plaything right now.”
Oh, that was the last straw. She was the one who had taken the guy down. All Dean had done was distract the asshole. The one punch he had thrown had been after she had done all the work. She didn’t think, she acted… and firmly connected her closed fist with Dean’s face.

And that is how Dean Winchester ended up on his ass in the middle of a trashed bar with the beginning of a very nice black eye swelling up half of his face. His little brother was laughing hysterically behind him and the girl who had decked him a good one glaring at him ungratefully.
He had been right on three counts. Tonight sucked harder than he could have possibly imagined. They had not managed to gather any useful information. And Caitlin O’Sullivan was straight-jacket/padded room crazy.

omg amazing heheh she punched dean i love it and this fic!

REally wicked and awesome update. Loved it.

I am in love with this fanfic! Punched Dean! Haha!

Please update soon!

wow that was good ROFL~ haha dean got punched in the face by a girl hahahaha

:lol: poor dean!!!!! but damn Cal sounds like a great character to put dean in his place somrtimes. great job.

Hi guys!! Thanks for the awesome reviews! I can't tell you how happy I am that you guys are enjoying it. :D

As for poor Dean and his unfortunate run-in with Cal's temper (and her fist)... I didn't know it was coming until it was on the paper in front of me. heehee What can I say? She has a temper.
Now, I am a huge Dean fan myself. He is definitely my favorite Winchester, by far... but it's about time he ran into a girl who can er...shall we say 'resist his charm'? I mean other than Meg of course... she doesn't count in my book since she was technically a demon at the time.

Anyway enough with my rambling then, eh? The next bit is more of Dean's POV. Not quite as exciting as the first bit in my opinion, but it sets up for what I have planned next. Just didn't have time to get it written tonight.

As always, let me know what you think! Hope you like it.

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“Well I don’t know about you guys, but I had a great time tonight.” Cal sighed happily as she stretched out in the back seat of the Impala. Dean sat hunched in the front passenger seat with an ice pack on one side of his face and a scowl on the other. “Yeah, I’ll bet you did She-Ra. You and your wicked left went right to town tonight didn’t you?” He turned just enough to glare at her over the edge of the seat without disturbing the ice pack that Sam had found him before they left the bar. Even that little bit of movement was enough to pull a groan out of him.

She of course had only laughed. “Hey, what can I say? I’m a scrapper. But dude, you both had it coming. The both of you were acting like cavemen. What’s a girl to do? I had to draw the line somewhere.” Dean gave Sam a look that asked ‘Is this chick for real?’ “Dude, we are never taking her out again. Ever.”
“Like you even have a say in the matter Dean. You’re just pissed because I bruised your big testosterone filled ego.” Oh she was a quick one alright. She’d bruised a whole lot more than his ego tonight too. Just thinking about that side of his face made it burn and throb painfully. If it wasn’t for the fact that she pissed him off so much, on purpose mind you, she might even remind Dean of himself.

Sam must’ve read his mind. “I don’t know Dean, I had a lot of fun tonight. Cal reminds me of you… only, you know… um, nicer and, uh… prettier.” “Sam! I’m sitting in the passenger seat of my own car…which I can’t drive. Why? Because of the ice on my face and the swelling underneath it… and now you’re insulting me? Unbelievable!” Cal snorted at him from the back seat. Who knew Big Bad Dean was so sensitive? Oh, wait… that’s right! She did. Heehee, it was just too easy.

“I’m just saying…” Dean knew exactly what Sam was saying. It wasn’t true. Sure, he liked to have a little fun sometimes. Okay, a lot of the time. When he needed help though, he asked for it and if he couldn’t ask he took it when it was offered. Unlike She-Ra in the back seat he did not assault the people who lent him a hand in sticky situations.
“Yeah, yeah. I know exactly what you’re going to say. But before you do Sam I’d like to remind you that the little scene she caused back there was why the bartender called the cops. I mean, we ran out of there and we still just barely missed ‘em. I didn’t even get her number man…”

Sexy redheads aside, there was no way they were going to be able to stay at the motel tonight. They’d have to drive clear across the state line just to avoid being pulled over. The Impala isn’t exactly ‘blending in with the locals’ material. A little ironic considering the evening started with a ‘discussion’ along those lines about a certain scrap of cloth that was currently being passed off as a blouse. Sam didn’t say anything. He just kept driving, a great big grin plastered all over his face. Who cared about one night without beds? He’d been suffering Dean’s teasing his whole life. One uncomfortable night on the road was definitely worth watching the spitfire in the backseat give it right back to him for a change.
That’s right big brother, Cal’s the reason we’re not going to be in soft warm beds tonight. Isn’t it great? He didn’t dare say the words aloud but they were there in the air between them all the same. Sam knew what would come next too. Retaliation. Only for once he would be a spectator watching the game as it played out. He almost felt sorry for Dean… almost, but not quite.

He couldn’t take it. Sam’s wide grin and Cal’s satisfied smirk… God he wished he could be the one behind the wheel of his baby. At least then he could ignore the two of them and concentrate on the rolling black asphalt before them. He doubted there was any way he could turn the night around and salvage it. At least not until he started thinking about it… once the wheels started turning in that upstairs brain of his Dean Winchester could be pretty darned creative. Especially in the face of boredom and payback.

Knowing she hated the music Dean fished a tape out of the box on the seat beside him. ‘That’s right baby’ he thought to himself when he saw the grimace on her face as the music started. Metallica was playing loud and proud on the stereo of his Metallicar. That the song was Highway to Hell was fitting to say the least. Oh, there were plenty of ways for payback… and he didn’t have to lay a finger on her for any of them. Yep, it was going to be an awfully long ride for She-Ra back there. He would see to it personally.

Cal would never admit to it but the soft and somewhat evil chuckle that came from the front seat made her just a little uneasy. She wasn’t worried though. If he wanted to dish it out then she said bring it on. There were more than a few tricks left up her sleeve.

that was great!!!! :lol: i just laugh so much reading your story. :clap

Awesome.

I am loving this story more and more! It's so laughable and real...update soon please!

Thanks guys!! I'll have an update soon, I promise. I'm in the middle of writing it. Should be up by tomorrow night!

So glad you guys are enjoying it, it's making it that much more fun to write.

:lol: :D

Well you are writing it. And you know how i like your work. Can't wait till tomorrow.

Alright, no Dean's were harmed in the writing of this next chapter of fanfic. hehe oh yeah, and the views on the music are purely those of the characters. Not the author. Well, not all of them anyway.

It's not quite finished but I'm posting it anyways, hope you guys don't mind. Ill put more up tomorrow too. It's just really late here and I'm too tired to do it tonight.

Please keep reviewing! And most importantly enjoy!!

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She got tired of Metallica about three songs into the tape. Dean could tell by the way she kept rolling her eyes from one end of the car to the other. By song five she looked like she was ready to claw her way out of the car through the back seat. The corners of his mouth curled smugly. God it was satisfying to get back at that girl!

Good Lord, it just went on and on. He’d flipped the tape over twice already and it looked like he was about to do it again. Ugh! Why? Why did he have to pick Metallica of all things? AC/DC would have been okay, maybe even Motorhead but nooo, it was the one band she hated more than Barbie dolls and anything pink. Metallica. Damn!
Dean Winchester was purposefully pissing her off. What she wouldn’t give to wipe that smug little smile that had worked its way onto his face right the hell off of it. Right, make that half his face, heh heh. Go Caitlin! Well at least that was something to smile about.

He was right, of course. She and her fists certainly had gone to town tonight. Okay, so maybe she’d been showing off a little… A girl had to have a little fun on occasion though, right? All work and no play make Cal a really cranky girl. Nothing was more fun that annoying Dean of course. Bar brawling came in close second though, and putting a guy in his place when he’d crossed the line was definitely an added bonus. Getting Dean angry was like eating chocolate… she just couldn’t get enough. That look that he got, the one that made him look like he’d tasted something really really awful, it was just priceless. Got her every time.

She wasn’t too fond of being called She-Ra though. Okay, so She-Ra’s the ‘Princess of Power’. She supposed it could be taken as a compliment, albeit a strange one. Who the heck wanted to be a princess anyway? Certainly not Cal. She was so not the tiara wearing type. And did the title come with cash? Heck no! At least not unless you counted the money she made hustling Dean. The man would keep her in chocolate forever as long as he didn’t wise up to her cheating.
The beginning of ‘On the Road Again’ pulled her out of happy thoughts. “Oh, for the love of…” she mumbled grumpily to herself “Dean! Change the damn tape already!” And that’s exactly what he’d been waiting for. Dean Winchester let out all the laughter that had been building for the better part of the last three hours. “Sorry babe, my car means my tunes!” he said and then started singing along with it, mercilessly butchering what Cal already considered a horrible, horrible song.

Sam watched her in the rear view mirror trying hard not to laugh too. The last thing he wanted was to turn her wrath away from Dean and onto himself. God those two were entertaining when you put them together! Between the music and the singing Cal was getting more and more frustrated by the second. Her face went from bright pink to a dark mottled red in under thirty seconds. When it finally changed to a funny shade of purple he knew he’d have to do something to diffuse the situation. Otherwise Dean might end up with more than a black eye… like two of them, or a broken jaw. Her face had been that exact shade of purple the night before when she’d kneed him for getting ‘fresh’ with her. He wanted to laugh so hard that there were tears in his eyes from holding in it.

“Damn it Dean, if you don’t change that stupid tape for something else I’m going to reach over there and pull it out myself! And I’ll send it flying right out the freaking window!” she threatened. “Like I said: my car, my tunes babe. You don’t like it to damn bad for you.” If the man were any closer to being six years old he’d be sticking his tongue out at her. That’s it. She’d reached her limit. The tape was as good as road kill. Sam saw her brace herself, getting ready to lunge at the tape deck. That’s when he finally decided to break it up.

One hand on the wheel and the other reaching into the tape box he pulled out something different. “Sam, what the heck are you doing?” “Oh, just following the house rule Dean.” Sam answered innocently. Dean was not going to like having that one thrown back in his face but it was really going to be worth it! He had Cal’s attention too. Curious, she sat back having obviously decided to sit back and watch whatever was about to happen play out. Sam never touched the tapes, he preferred the radio when he was driving.

“House Rule? What’s that supposed to mean?” The kid had Dean confused. Good move Sam. Of course she should have known he’d have slick moves, he’d grown up with the pig-headed mule. “You know what I’m talking about Dean.” Oh, he’s so not going to do it… he wouldn’t dare! But Sam really was: “Um, yeah. You know… the house rule: Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole.” And with those words Sam ejected the hated Metallica from the tape deck and popped in his own tape, something that so far he’d managed to keep his intentions for hidden. It was a tape he’d lifted from the Hell Hounds Lair boys a few months back, right after Dean had peppered his underwear with itching powder. The thing about payback with his big brother was that it was all about the timing. If you wanted to get the guy, you had to catch him off guard. This was definitely going to be good.

Seconds later Britney Spears little voice started streaming from the speakers singing ‘Hit me Baby One More Time”. A genuine smile spread slow and wide across Annie’s features and lit up her eyes. Oh yeah, now that’s what she was talking about. Right there. Pure freaking genius. He wouldn’t be able to keep it up long, or else she might have a thing or two to say about it. Still, a few minutes of the pop princess from hell was worth a front row seat to Dean’s reaction.

“No. No. Sammy, damn it! Definitely not. Not in my car. Not now, not ever!” Mortification, total and complete mortification. How could Sam possibly believe he would be okay with this? “What’s that Dean? Can’t hear you… music’s too loud!” and with that Frances turned it a notch or two higher. Aww! Aw! He knew that would come back and bite him in the ass one day.
“Oh I have so had enough of this crap.” Of course, no one heard Dean say the words because the music really was too loud. With a determined look at both his brother and Cal singing at the top of their lungs to that crap he reached over and shut the stereo off. He didn’t know what was worse. The fact Sam actually knew the words to the damned song, or the migraine that had suddenly reached brain explosion proportions. To think that his baby was being subjected to this garbage. His poor car… his poor head.

Sam had known it would be short lived. Dean wouldn’t let that stuff be played in his car for very long. Still, he kept right on smiling that smile of his that could brighten the night sky if it wanted to. Cal on the other hand was not ready to let it go that easily. “What did you shut it off for? That’s probably the only decent tunage this poor car has ever heard.” She just kept pushing, and pushing…

“Can it Cal.” It was Dean’s ‘don’t mess with me’ tone. The one that threatened death to anyone who crossed him. Cal was not impressed by it. “The hell I will.”

“Sam, pull over.” Dean was through with this chick. In the last twenty-four hours he’d been kneed in the nuts for saving her from a spirit, he’d been called a pipsqueak and a small fry by the steroid cowboy from hell, he’d saved her life twice and had finally been given a black eye and a nasty headache for all his trouble. All because of one Caitlin O’Sulivan. To top it all off she was a terrible influence on Sam. He would never have dared Britney Spears in the Impala before the devil’s spawn came along. Dean didn’t care how far back their fathers went or how deep in trouble she was, there was no way he was putting up with Her anymore.
As soon as Sam had stopped the car Dean was outside, pulling the passenger seat aside for Cal to climb out. “All right She-Ra, your ride ends here. Get out.” “What? But Dean, we’re supposed to be helping her out.” “Yeah, we are. But little miss sunshine here won’t let us and quite frankly I’m done getting the crap beaten out of me by a girl.” He pinned Cal with a look designed to kill. “Out. Now.”

“You’re joking right? The great Dean Winchester is going to kick a girl out of his car and leave her on the side of the road? All because of a little chick music that I, by the way, had absolutely nothing to do with.” Finally, he had her attention! Well that was all well and good. Maybe it would help him get her out of his car. “That’s right. So what are you waiting for? Out of the car.”

Awesome.

Whoa...that was really good. Looking forward to another update!

Thank you so much guys for the great reviews!! :D

So when I first started writing this I didn't have any kind of a plot in mind. I just really liked the way Cal and Dean were always at each others throats. The plot just kind of developped itself. I'm learning that Cal isn't as tough as she lets on, and Dean isn't as unforgiving.

Let me know what you think of the new twist please.

Hope you like it!!

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Chapter 4

“No.”

One word. All it took was one word for Dean to lose his cool.

He didn’t yell or shout or storm around. No, Dean Winchester got very quiet and very cold. “All right.” The words were a statement, she just didn’t know what they meant. At least not until he tossed the icepack onto the front seat next to Sam and reached into the back seat for her.

She tried to fight him off. Tried kicking and screaming at him. She would have hit him a good one again, but he was already beyond angry. Wouldn’t do her much good to make things worse, would it? With single-minded determination he managed to get an arm under her knees and another behind her back. Once that was accomplished he physically lifted her right out of the car.

Now Cal felt full force what ego had earlier forced her to deny. During her two rounds with the big smelly cowboy at the bar earlier she had opened up the gash on her belly again. She’d managed to cover it up with a bit of gauze and tape at the motel when they’d stopped off to collect their gear. Luckily the blouse hid that particular spot long enough for her to move her stuff into the car without being found out. Now though, with the force of fighting off her very angry protector, the gauze fell off. Blood started oozing out and quickly soaked clear through her blouse. Thank god it was black or else he would have seen it already. If he didn’t put her down soon it would start to soak right into his t-shirt too, and would show up all too well on the crisp white. Dude was already angry… She didn’t want to know what his reaction would be to finding out she’d been hiding something from them.

The cut had been deeper than she had let the Winchester boys believe. When the spirit had knocked her off her feet and tossed the knife she’d been holding at her it had been a struggle just to get out of the way. She’d rolled but had still been caught by the blade. One look at it and she knew she’d need stitches.

She was perfectly capable of performing first aid… just not on herself. Blood, guts and gore were fun stuff until she saw her own. Then it reminded her that she really was a girl. A human one at that. There was no way around it: one of the boys would have to do the stitching for her.
One look at Dean and she knew she couldn’t let him do it. He was one of her very few weaknesses and she could only handle one of those at a time. He had that worried-hero, protector-of-the-innocent look to him and she knew she would crack under it if she wasn’t careful. That wouldn’t do of course. He’d never let her live it down. She’d forever be ‘the girl’ in his eyes after that.

So when he went from macho to gentle in less than fifteen seconds she’d had no other choice. Kneeing him in the nuts and accusing him of hitting on her had been her only option… at least the only one she could think of on such short notice. What? She’d been careful not to hit him too hard. After all, she may have use for him later, when things settled down and her business had been taken care of.
It had been hard, keeping them distracted long enough to cover it up. Now though, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to hide it anymore. It was bleeding a whole lot more than it had the night before. Luckily his anger worked to her advantage. He noticed nothing beyond the accomplishment of his goal: getting her out of his car.

“Pop the trunk Sammy!” he grunted as he set Cal down on her feet. Knowing better than to argue with him when he got that way, Sam did as his brother asked. Dean was pulling open the lid of the trunk even as the click sounded when it unlocked. He hauled out her backpack and her duffel bag and tossed them on the ground at her feet. “So that’s it then? You’re going to leave me on the side of the road, just like that?” Maybe it was shock from the severity of her injury but she was feeling just a wee bit breakable at the moment. Maybe even a little needy. Not that she’d ever actually admit it.
“Yup, that’s right.” He didn’t even look at her, just climbed right back into the passenger seat and lay back with the ice pack on his face again. “Fine. I’ll call myself a cab and go pick up my ‘Stang. Who the hell needs you anyway? I should have known better last night that to ask you for help.” Sam wanted to tell her he was sorry. He wanted to tell her to call him if she needed anything. Dean made it impossible though. He’d popped Metallica back into the tape deck. “Let’s go Sam, I’m through wasting time.”
Sam did the only thing he could do: put the car in drive and watched in the rear view mirror as Cal’s reflection got smaller and smaller.

She waited until they were out of sight to sit down, preferring to glare mercilessly at the car as her nemesis drove away. When she did sit though it hit her how desperate her situation had become. There was a vampire out there somewhere. A very persistent vampire who had caught her scent and had plans for her that she did not agree with.

There had been safety in numbers with Sam and Dean. There had been safety even just riding in an unrecognizable car. Now though, she was sitting with her bags on the shoulder of the interstate and loosing blood fast. She was a sitting duck. If Earl was anywhere within a hundred miles he’d be able to pick up her scent. Cal had to get moving, and fast.
Of course that would mean getting up, hauling her bags over her shoulder and walking to the nearest roadside pit-stop to call a cab. Right now she could barely keep her eyes open. There was something warm and wet working its way down the leg of her jeans… funny, it wasn’t raining… Her battle with consciousness lost she slumped over and slid down the rest of the way from her bags to the ground.

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Dean spotted the motel about twenty minutes drive after leaving Cal on the side of the road. “Dude, pull over. I just found us some beds.”

They had just barely checked in and the arguing had already begun.

“I can’t believe you man. That girl is in serious trouble and you just left her there on the side of the highway.” “Yeah and good riddance too. One more run-in with that chick and I’d have wound up in the hospital again.” “You’re unbelievable Dean. Did you even bother to think about what’s going to happen when the vampire catches up with her again? I mean, she’ll be lucky if she even makes it to a hospital.” Sam was worried, Dean could tell. He knew that just leaving her there had been a rotten thing to do… he was just so damned tired and sore. Cal just kept pushing at him. Kicking him when he was down. He hadn’t known what else to do. She needed to learn to give a guy some down time to recover from the shock of her.
Besides, knowing that girl he’d only have a couple of hours rest before she’d be knocking down the motel door, ready to do him bodily harm again.

He was rubbing distractedly at the wet spot the ice pack had left on his shirt, trying to think of a way to put what he was thinking into words. He needed Sammy to understand why he’d done it.
“Dean?” Sam stood frozen in his tracks, staring at Dean’s hand. “Hmm?” he asked still distracted and trying to gather his thoughts. “Dude, what’s that on your shirt? Is that….?” Dean looked down at the wet spot which, now that he thought about it was a little sticky for moisture from the icepack. His finger tips were sticky and there was a wide patch of red spreading across the bottom half of his t-shirt where he’d been holding Cal as he lifted her out of the car. His eyes met Sam’s with a look of total shock.
“My god, it’s blood isn’t it?” Trust his brother to state the obvious. “Give me the keys Sam. This time I’m driving.” And drive he did like he never had before.
Twenty minutes drive, accomplished in ten flat. Dean pulled the Impala to a stop with a squeal of tires and screech of brakes as close to Cal’s unconscious body as he could get it. How long had she been bleeding? Why hadn’t she said anything? Damn it, the woman was going to end up getting herself killed. If she hadn’t managed it already.

Ooooh...that was awesome. Can't wait for more. Seriously...I need another update! Soon...please. I'm lovin' it more and more!

:) Great story!

Hey guys! Had a quick minute, thought I'd update.
I've posted a one-shot in another category too, but its alot different then this one. Pop on by if you're interested in giving it a read.
Thanks again for reviewing... let me know what you think.

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Chapter 5

It had been touch and go on the roadside and later in the car on the way back to the motel. With just the one eye working properly it was a lot harder for Dean to tell how bad the damage really was. He’d dressed his own wounds, and Sammy’s more times than he could count so this gash of Cal’s wasn’t shocking. Finding her passed out on the side of the road, on the other hand, had definitely been shocking.

“Sam, we need something to stop the bleeding. I think she might just be in shock.” At least he hoped it was only shock. She looked too pink for it to be blood loss and there was no fever so he was assuming it wasn’t infected. He taped an old, worn-out t-shirt to her now bare midriff as firmly as he could get it and handed his keys to Sam. “Drive as fast as you can without wrecking the car.” It was an order in true Winchester fashion.

Dean was in full protector mode, all of the earlier events of the evening had been pushed aside in his mind until she was alright again. He’d sit in the back seat and keep pressure on it himself. She’d need body heat once the shaking from the shock started anyway. If that’s what it really was. God, he hoped it was only shock.

Sam had learnt a thing or two watching his brother drive over the last year. What Dean had managed to cover in ten, he’d accomplished in eight. By the time the Impala squealed to a stop in front of the motel room door the t-shirt was covered in blood and Caitlin had begun to shake. “Damn it. Sam, I think we’re going to have to call 9-1-1. Look at her.”
Sam dialed the number and ran around the car to open the door for Dean. They’d have to get her inside and cleaned up before the paramedics got there. She reeked of the beer that had spilled all over her blouse when she’d whacked the cowboy over the head with the bottle earlier. They’d have enough questions to answer at the hospital later, it would help an awful lot if they didn’t have to account for that particular escapade.

It wasn’t easy… figured the girl would weigh a freaking ton. She didn’t make anything easy for him. Somehow though Dean managed to haul her unconscious butt out of the car, through the motel door and into the tiny bathroom. Sam was right behind him the whole way with Cal’s bags and the first aid kit in hand. “Dude, toss me another one of her shirts will ya?” At least he had a good excuse to get her out of that thing she called a blouse. Heh heh. She’d be mad as hell when she finally came to but a small victory was a victory none the less. “Better grab a pair of socks too. We’re gonna need to warm her up to stop the shaking.”
“Way ahead of you.” Sam answered from the bathroom doorway. Tossing Dean a shirt and a pair of socks, he went to the sink and dampened one of the motel face cloths with cold water. “Hey, these are my clothes Sam!” “Yeah. I, uh, grabbed the wrong bag. Didn’t think you’d want to wait long enough for me to run back out to the car for hers.” Wrong bag, huh? He was supposed to believe that his brother would mistake khaki green for pink, red and white? Yeah, whatever. Still, they were handy and the socks were a lot warmer than most of what he’d seen Cal wear over the last twenty four hours, so he’d use them.

Carefully maneuvering her so she was sitting squarely on his lap and leaning against his chest, Dean passed the neck of his shirt over Cal’s head. It was a move he’d watched more than one girl make over the years. A trick to getting changed without actually getting naked. For the first time that evening he was thankful for the ribbon she was wearing instead of clothing because it would make changing her that much easier.

After carefully pulling her arms through the sleeves he detached the clasp at the back of her neck that held the blouse in place. Then it was just a matter of pulling the black silk away from her body. “Where the hell did you learn to do that Dean?” Sam asked, watching as Dean tossed the material in the garbage next to him. “Here and there. Can I have that face cloth? And would you mind pulling off those things she calls shoes. We need to get these socks on her fast.”

The cold of the cloth seemed to be helping to stop the blood flow but for Dean it still wasn’t enough. The shaking hadn’t stopped yet. Instead it seemed to be getting worse. Not only that but now that she was starting to warm up a bit she went from a healthy-ish pink to a feverish flushed red. This was not good.

By the time the paramedics arrived Cal was mumbling to herself in French as she lay unconscious in Dean’s arms. At least he assumed it was French. It didn’t sound like any Latin he knew and he only knew the one French sentence “Voulez-vous couchez avec moi ce soir?” He highly doubted that those words would come from her lips any time soon. Especially not directed at him.

He found himself surrounded suddenly by three very large men in uniforms, all kneeling before him and fussing over Cal. Dean sat holding her close and patiently watching as they checked her vitals and her wound. There were questions to answer which he did as best he could. He doubted she would die but even just the possibility was a difficult thing to consider. Just one hour ago she’d been doing her best to annoy the hell out of him… She took down the steroid cowboy for crying out loud. It would take more than a little cut to steal the life from her body.

“Sir?” One of the medics were trying to get his attention “Sir, we’re going to have to move her to the gurney now.” “Oh, uh, yeah. I got it.” They tried to object to him doing it for them. Tried to take her from his arms. As soon as they touched her though the mumbling got louder and Dean finally heard a word he recognized. It wasn’t in French. It wasn’t even really a word but a name. “Dean!” she said lifting her head a little and opening her eyes a crack to look straight at him. Thank God, signs of life at last!
“What Cal? What is it?” “Si tu les laisse me toucher je te jure que je vais t’en sacrer une autre bonne.” She was lucid just long enough to get the words out and then passed out in his arms again.

She had reverted to the French again and he hadn’t understood a word of it. Now, what the hell had that been about? Dean didn’t know. He suspected Sam might though because his brother had gone from standing somberly by to laughing at her words. “Sam?” Dean wanted to know what the hell had just happened. “I wouldn’t let them touch her until she’s on the gurney Dean.” He managed to wheeze out. It was enough to know for now.

They followed the ambulance the whole way to the hospital. Sam searched Cal’s bags for credit cards and insurance information while Dean drove like a mad man just to keep up with the ambulance. That was two motel rooms in one night that they had wasted money on because of that damned woman. It was hard to be mad at her in the state she was in but Dean was certainly going to give it a try.

“So Sam, you want to tell me what the hell it was that she said back there?” Sam chuckled quietly to himself at the reminder. “Oh that, right. I’m pretty sure Cal’s gonna be fine. She was warning you not to let them touch her or she’d hit you again.” Dean turned to his brother with wide eyes. Well, one wide eye and one slightly more open slit. “Are you serious?” “Yeah Dean, I’m serious.” Well he had to give the chick one thing: she had one hell of a backbone. Well, he felt a whole lot better knowing her claws were still out. Sam was right. As long as the sass was still there she would be just fine.

“So I've been meaning to ask you Frances: since when do you know how to speak French?”

“Oh, I don’t. I took a couple of foreign languages classes back at Stanford. It’s how I met Jess. I can understand it, but I couldn’t speak it to save my life.”

Well, that explained alot. Suddenly the long hospital wait ahead of them didn’t seem so daunting now that Dean had something tease Sam about.

Ooooo...French. That is my foreign language. Great chapter btw, Im still deeply in love with this story. Cant wait for an update!

Awesome.

Heeheehee, I'm very biligual. Went to french catholic school right up to my high school grad. The french just kind of snuck in there when I wasn't paying attention. Glad you liked it. :D Thanks for following my fic, and you too EmSyd.

(btw: Did you guys get to check out my one shot in the Miscellaneous section? shameless plug, I know. But I'm dying for some feedback on it and no one is reviewing it lol)

Got a little more that I'm going to post. Cal's starting to feel a little better. She's going to have to get back on her feet soon... that vampire Earl might just pop up right when she least expects him to... just maybe not in this particular update.

Hope you enjoy it!
Please keep reviewing!!!

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She woke alone in a hospital bed to the sight of an IV tube pumping blood back into her body. Damn. Well, wasn’t she off to a great start this morning! Cal was no stranger to waking up disoriented in odd places. It was an unfortunate by-product of working the hunting gig alone. So now came the fun part: piecing it all together.
What the hell had happened the night before?

Closing her eyes again she tried to focus her swimming mind. Cal remembered the bar… she’d had a lot to drink, but not enough to land her in hospital. Ah, and there had been the cowboy… tall, dark and smelly? Yup, she remembered him alright. Hard not to.

And the Winchester boys… right. She’d decked Dean, given him a black eye and then got kicked out of his car. Last thing she remembered was sitting down on her duffel bag by the side of the road and worrying about that idiot vampire who couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. That sleazebag Earl.

She’d been bleeding… hadn’t she? A little blood would have made her an easy target… she may as well have painted a bulls-eye on herself… Was that what had happened? Her eyes fluttered open again in a panic. Shaking fingers flew to her neck, checking for bite marks… anything at all that might be out of the ordinary to tell her just how seriously in trouble she really was. There was nothing there to feel but slightly damp, clammy skin. “Oh thank God!” Relief washed over her in one great wave, warm and comforting. She didn’t even realize that she’d spoken the words until a hoarse voice came to her from the far corner of the room.
“Ah, so we’re back to English again are we? Well that’s a good sign.” The last person in the world she’d expected to approach her bedside was in fact standing right beside her in all his disheveled glory. Merde. She was in trouble. Dean Winchester picked up her small, cold hand in his very large warm one and smiled a smile he usually reserved for the likes of cute bartenders. “Nice to see She-Ra rejoin the land of the living finally.” His tone was light and teasing, but the concern he still felt rang clearly beneath it. Her heart skipped a beat. Damn. That. Man.

Maybe she could close her eyes and pretend she was in a coma. She was too tired to deal with Mr. Caveman Winchester. Okay, she was too tired to fight with her reaction to Mr. Caveman Winchester. How was it that he was here anyway?

“Can’t say it’s a pleasure to be back… not so fun when everything hurts.” Chocolate. She needed chocolate and lots of it. Especially if he was going to keep holding her hand and being nice to her like that. “Yeah, about the hurting thing. I was thinking it might not be such a bad thing. A taste of your own medicine might do you some good.” He had to be kidding. She was attached to a bag of blood, aching all over from she-didn’t-even-know-what, and he was still looking for ‘I’m sorry’ for the black eye. Men. No. Wait. Not men… that man.
“Oh quit it you big baby. Your eye’s not even that swollen anymore. It’s not like I did any permanent damage or anything.”
“No. You’re right. You didn’t.” Was that a sad smile on his face? “You almost did some serious permanent damage to yourself though.” How hard had she hit the guy last night? Could she have given him more than a bruise? Charm, concern, playing nice… It just didn’t fit. What had happened while she was unconscious for him to suddenly turn into the closest thing he could get to knight-in-shining-armor?

“Hey, didn’t you kick me out of your precious car last night? What the hell are you doing here?” Okay, so she was being just a tad bit ungrateful… she didn’t have a choice though. Her defenses were down and she was suffering from heart palpitations. A girl had to protect herself… especially from Dean Winchester. Besides, maybe if she prodded him a little he might go back to being moody. It was a whole lot easier to justify picking on him when he was being a pain in her behind.

The insufferable man just took it all in stride. He actually had the nerve to laugh at her. “Now there’s the Cal we all know and love. Sammy’ll be glad to see you’re feeling better.” She glared at him and fought off the shivers that the deep rumbling sound of his laughter had brought on. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Well it’s a bit of a long story… Of course we are going to be here awhile. I might just entertain you with it if you ask me nicely enough.” The rather loud, unseemly snort that came from the bed caused just the one of his eyebrows to shoot up interestingly. “Well that’s attractive.” “In case you haven’t noticed I’m not exactly trying to win a beauty contest here or anything.” she shot back, calling attention to the IV hooked up to her body.
“After the whole bar thing that went down last night I’m surprised you’re not complaining because you’re fully clothed. Incidentally: do you own anything that’s less than skin tight and almost non-existent?” Great, now who’s picking on who? Geez, talk about kicking a girl when she’s down.

Changing the subject was definitely the safer road to travel on this one. “So, where’s Sam?” Vulnerable was definitely safer with the kid along for the ride. Especially when Dean was trying to pull out the old Winchester charm. You’d think the black eye would have been enough to warn the guy off…

“Oh, I sent him out to buy you some clothes. The doc said you’d need something loose-fitting to avoid opening that nasty cut open again. I couldn’t find anything in your bag that could be described with a word other than ‘snug’ and as cute as you look in my clothes, I’ve barely got enough for myself so… the only option left was to buy you more.” His clothes? What the hell was he talking about ‘his clothes’?

Cal looked down only to find herself swimming in a huge black AC/DC t-shirt. Her jeans from the night before were covered in blood on a chair across the room. It looked like they had to cut them off at some point. Apart from the t-shirt she wore only a hospital blanket and a pair of huge, incredibly warm socks that were also, apparently, not hers.

“Dean?” She asked as calmly as she could all things considered… “What happened to my clothes?” “Um, well. Ha, ha” he was very obviously nervous about answering.. Why did she get the feeling she would want to hit him again before the conversation was over? “Funny story, actually. The, uh, ribbon… I mean blouse was trashed back at the motel.” He couldn’t have been happier about that one. Try as he might to hide it, the corners of his mouth curled up when he told her and he wore a decidedly satisfied expression while he delivered the bad news of its demise. That was okay, she knew where she could get another one and this time she would go red.
The jerk had probably tossed it in the trash himself. “The, uh, doctors had to cut the jeans off you during the night when you went into shock. They were soaked in blood and you were freezing. They had to get you dry to warm you up and stop the shaking.” Okay, so that was question one answered. On to the more serious one that was begging to be answered.
“And how exactly did I come to be in your clothes?” “Well, I’m not usually one to get fresh on the first date… but in this case I made a little exception.” He flashed her another one of his patented grins... Suddenly Cal didn’t have the patience for his so-called ‘charming’ sense of humor anymore. “Do you mean to tell me that you took my clothes off?” Her voice was deadly calm and she wasn’t looking so pale anymore… Crap, she really was feeling better.

Dean gently set her hand back down on the bed and stepped away, shrugging sheepishly in answer to her question. “So basically – just so we get this straight – YOU TOOK MY SHIRT OFF under which I was very obviously wearing nothing. While I was unconscious. That about cover it?” Wow, that transfusion was really doing it’s job well. Her whole body was now bright red, flushed from anger and embarrassment.

Dean had seen her naked. Without her permission. You just didn’t mess with a girl’s privacy like that, under any circumstance. Dude was going to die.

“Oh! You think I saw you… No. No, no, no… that’s not what happened!” He was laughing. As usual Cal had jumped to the wrong conclusion… she’d probably laugh once he explained it to her… Right?
Then again… maybe not. Her eyes were blue steel trying to impale him where he stood with a look that that would have made a weaker man cower. Maybe… it would be safer… to wait for Sammy to explain it to her.

Dean Winchester does not cower… he just knows when to pick his battles “I’m, ah, going to go grab a coffee…” and knows when to retreat to higher, safer ground.

The pillow Cal threw at him as Dean all but ran out of the room hit the door jamb and slid across the hall with the force of her anger.

Now that she was feeling better, he didn’t feel so bad calling her on a lousy shot. “We’re going to have to work on that throwing arm Cal. You missed me and went wide!” Her angry growl could be heard clear through to the next ward.

“Espece de cochon!”

There was no doubt about it: When it came to Dean, Cal had some serious anger management problems. Although… that angry French thing… she could yell at him like that any time she wanted. It was definitely growing on him.

Hehe! That was awesome. Update soon, please. I'm loving this sooo much!

awwww awesome i ♥ this story.
i feel sorry for dean LOL

Freakin awesome. Can't wait for more.

:lol: :lol: that was great please update soon. wow i can not even imagine what the romance love parts are going to be like. if they are crazy now those will be hott. :fire

Hey guys!! I'm sooo sorry it's taken so long. Thanks for the awesome reviews... :D

I don't have the update finished yet but it's almost done so I promise I'll post something tonight.

I wouldn't feel too sorry for Dean... hasiba's right... things'll get a whole lot more pleasant for Dean once Cal stops fighting her own attraction to him. Of course that doesn't mean she's going to stop picking on him just a little... she's gotta keep the guy on his toes right? lol

Thanks again guys, updates soon, tonight... I swear!!

:lol:

Hi! Sorry it took so long... I'm still not quite finished chapter six, but thought I'd post what I have. More to come shortly...

As always, please please review!

Thanks, and enjoy!!
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Chapter 6

The Man was a freaking menace. I mean, she’d thought the Steroid Cowboy had been a jerk… Oh my God! He had taken her top off… and let’s face it: with what she’d been wearing ‘bra’ had not been an option. Dean Winchester had seen her naked breasts. Nobody saw her naked, not even just partially, and especially without permission. Last guy who had tried… well that had been self-defense and it had been far uglier than some harmless little bar brawl. If she remembered correctly (and the restraining order made it hard for her not to) he had been lucky to crawl away with all his parts attached. The guy had it coming. No means no. No one could ever say Cal couldn’t hold her own.
Throwing that pillow just hadn’t been enough. There was too much mad in her and when she was mad fluffy didn’t cut it. What could she have done though? It was the only thing handy at the time. There hadn’t been anything heavy enough to do damage within reaching distance…and he’d probably planned it that way too. She’d had to let it go, at least temporarily. She felt weak and pathetic and she was absolutely hating it.
It was a sad, sad day when throwing a pillow sapped her of all her energy and made her want to sleep forever. And why were hospitals always so cold? There were goosebumps traveling all over her body and she was getting nasty chills. It was a miracle she didn’t look like a smurf. Don’t these people know what heat is? She felt like she would never be warm again.
It wasn’t giving up, or giving in… Cal never did either. It was resting for the sake of being able to get up and fight another day. At least that’s how she justified it to herself when she turned over on her good side and pulled the blankets above her head. She was conscious just long enough to register the extremely interesting scent of Dean’s aftershave which was permanently fused to the shirt she was wearing. Aftershave and something else… something purely Dean. Ha, knowing the macho jerk he probably sweat pure testosterone.
As oblivion set in and darkness took hold of her tired mind her last thought was a denial. She was definitely not smiling because of the way that man smelled… she was just… having a muscle spasm… yeah… that’s right… sounded about right…
Of course when Dean walked back into the room a few minutes later and carefully peeked at her face under the covers to be sure she was still okay Cal was very obviously smiling to herself in her sleep.


There was something whispering across the skin of her face. Wait. No. Make that more than one ‘something’. Fingers? Fingertips? Someone was very gently tucking a stray bit of hair behind her ear. The gesture was the most tender thing she’d ever experienced. So… who…?
Heavy eyelids made it hard to wake up. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe they’d given her some meds to make her sleep, she didn’t know and really didn’t care. All that mattered was getting her eyes open so she could see just exactly who was touching her that way. Whoever he was had to be something special. No one had ever touched her like that before… oh and it definitely was a ‘he’. Those roughened fingertips were far too large to belong to anything but a man.
It was one hell of a challenge… but somehow she got the one eye open a crack so that she could barely see past her own eyelashes. Okay, not perfect but hey: she could see right? Well, sort of.
He was a bit of a blur. More of a shadow in the darkness of the room and he was really fuzzy around the edges. There was no mistaking the face that was inches from hers though. She’d know those intense hazel eyes anywhere. Something had to be wrong… Dean wasn’t supposed to be nice to her. She didn’t want him to be. He’d be impossible to fight off that way. Especially now, when she was a complete wreck.
Cal didn’t do vulnerable. Hell she barely bothered with ‘female’ unless it worked to her advantage. But there she was, bedridden in the hospital having been thrown into the role of damsel in distress. Now Dean Winchester was sitting beside her holding her hand in his big strong warm one as she slept off the worst of her injury. With just the one of her eyes barely open he had no idea that she was awake… or he may never have said the words out loud. As it was they were just a whisper. His breath tickled her cheek as he said the words.
“Damn it Cal, you gave us one hell of a scare back there. I don’t know what the hell you were thinking letting yourself practically bleed to death like that and not even saying a word. Believe me: when you finally wake up again I’ll have plenty to say about it. I’m pretty sure Sam’ll have a thing or two to say too. Right now though…” he took a deep breath that hitched halfway in and came out a broken sigh. “Right now I’m just glad you’re okay.” Fingertips were tracing her hairline, brushing aside bangs and suddenly soft, warm lips touched forehead. Briefly… so briefly… in the sweetest kiss Cal had ever experienced.
Her eyes finally opened as she melted inside. Dean’s eyes went wide in surprise then softened into warmth that chased away the ‘hospital’ cold feeling that had stolen over her. For once she wasn’t angry or defensive. In fact, instead of finding a scowl he was pleasantly surprised with a soft and decidedly feminine smile. He knew that kind of smile… Never one to pass up an opportunity, nor yet a pretty girl, Dean leaned in on impulse and ever so lightly brushed his lips across hers.
He smelled of leather, aftershave and fresh air. His lips were there and then they were gone… or almost… hovering just above her own in a question. Should he? Would she let him? Did she want him too? Dude could barely stand a chick flick moment with his own brother but he could ask her three very loaded questions without even saying a word. How the hell was she supposed to resist him? She couldn’t say no to that… it was impossible. So she answered him by lifting her head off the pillow and showing him exactly what her answers were. This time, when their lips met and parted the sensation was the equivalent to an electric shock shooting straight through her body.

She woke from the dream with the electric jolt that had come from the kiss, gasping and in shock. There was absolutely nothing sluggish about this awakening. Jesus. She really was loosing it if she was dreaming of sexy kisses and Dean Winchester.

She still lay on her side and Dean was still just across from her… only at a much safer distance all the way across the room sleeping in the chair by the window. So… it really had been a dream. Cal, what the hell are you doing dreaming of kissing that man like every other woman he tosses his impish little boy smile to? You are not that kind of girl!

That was it, she’d had enough of this hospital crap. It was starting to mess with her head. So her decision was made right then and there. Cal O’Sulivan was blowing this two-bit popsicle stand… and she was doing it without the Winchesters in tow.

Awesome. Loved the dream. Can't wait for more.

You're a genious! That dream was totally awesome. Please update soon!

Hi guys!

So it looks like Dean is finally starting to get to Cal... she's determined to fight it though and Cal being Cal, has taken some pretty extreme measures to put some distance between her and a certain pair of brothers.

Here's the rest of chapter six. Keep those reviews coming (please) and of course hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 6 (continued)

The IV had been removed as she slept, otherwise leaving would not have been as easy. As it was it was just a matter of getting a pair of pants and shoes on and making a hasty…quiet…exit. She was on her way out the door when she spotted Dean’s coat hanging off the chair that he was sleeping in. She needed cash…and wheels… and the guy did owe her big for the topless thing… No matter how loud and obnoxious that car of his was it would be fun to take it for a little joy ride. Okay then, she would do it. Hee, hee she only wished she could be there when he woke up and realized what had happened.

Caitlin O’Sulivan was nothing if not resourceful. Five minutes after waking she was on the road in the Impala… speeding back down the interstate toward her own car. Dean’s phone was wedged between her shoulder and her cheek as she made reservations at two different hotels near the hospital to throw the boys off her trail, and another in a town about a half hours drive away from where she’d left her Mustang for actual use.
She was tempted to keep the car for a few days...It was one hell of a ride. The Metallicar was definitely growing on her. Still, Dean would be pissed off enough as it was. Keeping his car would be pushing it just a tad. Besides, her own baby was waiting for her and she hadn’t been driven in days.
Bif Naked was on the radio singing her personal favorite ‘We’re Not Gonna Take It’. The bass was pumping through her as wide wheels ate up miles of asphalt The windows were wide open and fresh air was whipping through her hair. Cal was singing at the top of her lungs and feeling more alive and free than she had in a very long time. This had been an excellent idea.


Dean woke with a start with the sound of a code red being called over the speakers in the hall. It brought home too many recent memories for comfort. There was no way he’d be able to get back to sleep now.
A quick glance at the lump in the bed told him her IV had come out and he was relieved to see that the beast was still sleeping. Thank God for that. He didn’t think he could handle being yelled at before coffee. French or no.
A look through the window toward the parking lot where he’d left the car told him that Sam had gone to find caffeine that wouldn’t rot a hole right through him. “Thank God!” It was a heartfelt whisper in the quiet room. That hospital coffee was probably designed to generate more patients in his opinion. It did in a pinch but it had the same consistency as toxic waste.
He couldn’t resist a peek at her as she slept. He’d done it often since the night before. She looked so peaceful…almost innocent. So he very slowly approached the bed, trying hard not to breathe too loudly or make a sound. Wouldn’t do if she woke up and caught him in the act of checking up on her. She was already livid about something she’d assumed he’d done. No way he was risking making her angrier.
Somehow he managed it. Sam came through the open door as Dean hooked a finger under the top of the blanket where her face would be. “What…?” there was only pillow. He stood frozen, able only to look up at Sam… who was holding a couple of coffees… in the same white and brown paper cups the hospital kitchen used… That’s when the thinking part of Dean’s brain finally woke up.
“Dean? What’s the matter?” There was a slightly twisted look of surprise and shock on his brothers face that made Sam wonder what the heck he had seen under those covers. As far as he knew there was only Cal under there. In one swift move Dean threw back the blanket on the bed and revealed several pillows bunched together where Cal had been lying not so long ago. You could have knocked Sam down with a feather. Dean would have smiled at the sight of his brother except that an ugly thought had suddenly occurred to him.
“Sam… tell me you got that coffee somewhere where they have the same bad taste as the hospital cafeteria. Please…”
“Huh? What are you talking about… I just went downstairs for a few minutes… why?” Dean’s shoulder’s fell in defeat. “My car… she took my…car.” He couldn’t believe it. Sure, he knew Cal was ballsy. She was the type of person who would do whatever it took to get it done, whatever it happened to be. Still… she took his CAR. Oh, what he would do to her when he finally got his hands on her! One scratch. If there was even one little scratch… God the way that chick drives his poor baby didn’t stand a chance! He needed to catch up with her. Now.
The need for coffee forgotten, Dean raced over to his jacket and his phone. He needed to put out an APB on his plates. Then he needed to get a car so he could catch up with her. It was just too damn bad she’d busted up her cell phone when she got hurt… otherwise he’d call her up and give her what for right then and there. At least he would… if he could find his phone… um… and his wallet…
His fake ID and insurance card were the only thing the little thief had left him.

Sam was still standing in the doorway, though the coffees were now sitting on the table next to the bed. He was shaking with the force of holding back the laughter in and there were tears in his eyes. Bewildered. It was the word that came to mind as he watched his brother search frantically through his jacket for the things he considered necessities.

Dean, the man who didn’t even so much as flinch in the face of Wendigos and Vampires alike, looked like he was going to loose it completely over a girl, a wallet, a car and a cell phone. He’d have to remember to thank Cal when they finally caught up with her. He hadn’t laughed so hard or so much in a very long time.
“Hey! Dude, you think you can quit laughing long enough to toss me your phone?” Anger, shock and annoyance warred within him. Damn. That. Woman. There would be hell to pay for this when he finally caught up with her.


Cal on the other hand was having a grand old time. She was enjoying the ride so much that she took a couple of detours just to make the trip a last little longer. The Metallicar even took a trip through a drive-thru so she could get coffee without getting out from behind the wheel.
She finally pulled up beside her own baby an hour and a half later than she should have. It was nice, being able to use a key instead of a paperclip to open the trunk and spring her stuff from its depths. She was tired, sore and starting to slow down fast. It was time to get to the hotel. The last couple of days were definitely taking their toll and she was ready for bed and rest.
She finally tossed her keys under the driver’s seat then locked and closed the door. Wouldn’t do for Dean’s baby to get stolen now would it? “I hate to say it but Dean’s right.” She spoke to the car as she ran a hand lovingly from roof to hood. “You are one awesome machine.” Goodbye having been said she climbed into her own little muscle car and sped off. Toward the city, toward the hotel… that’s right hotel… no dingy motel room for this girl… at least not when she was using Dean’s credit card… and toward well deserved rest and recuperation.

Awesome. Loved it. So can't wait for more.

Thanks EmSyd! :D I have more... I definitely have more... and all a product of an intensely overactive imagination hehe

So this one is a little long. Sorry about that. It all just kind of came out at once. Dean's kind of volleying between angry and protective, and Cal as usual is playing the little rebel. Looks like her dreams may have a chance at becoming more than dreams though...

Thanks everyone who has read or reviewed so far... hope you're still following my fic and enjoying the read. Feel free to comment on it... don't hesistate to say something if you don't like it too. I won't take it personally :P

Here is Chapter 7 (Sorry again about the length lol)
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Chapter 7

They had to admit it. She was good.

Cal had led them on a wild goose chase. His credit cards and cell phone had led them to two different hotels in the area, both of which turned up empty. Of course. The girl had spent the better part of her life running, fighting, lying, stealing and hunting stuff. She certainly wouldn’t make the chase easy. Or pleasant.

They were headed out from the second hotel toward the crappy rental Sammy had insisted on when on impulse he dialed his own number on Sam’s phone. Whether or not she’d pick up he had no idea… but he sure as hell was going to try.

As luck would have it she did pick up, on the third ring just before the voice mail kicked in. “Hello?” She sounded groggy as if she’d been asleep. Eleven o’clock at night, they were chasing her all over the damn city and she was fast asleep somewhere comfortable. It was the last straw. “Well hell! This must be my lucky day. You actually picked up.” Bitterness dripped off his every word.

“Oh its you.” Well at least she was awake… though she wasn’t being too friendly herself. There was venom in the way she spat out the word ‘you’ that he could have done without. Although it certainly helped feed his anger and that was okay by him. Anger was something he had plenty of, and at the moment it was all directed at her. “So, I can tell you’re settled in somewhere nice and cozy for the night. Where the hell are you Cal?”

Oh, she was so not taking this crap from him. “None of your damned business Dean. If you decided not to stop for the night that’s your own fault. Now leave me alone and let a girl get a decent night’s sleep.” “Oh I don’t think so Cal. Not until I have my car back.” There was silence on her end.

“You mean you haven’t found it yet? Dude, you’re not exactly at the top of your game tonight are you? I locked her up and left her for you when I picked up my ‘Stang. So go get your precious baby and tuck in for the night already. I hurt. A lot. So if it’s all the same to you I’d like to sleep it off. Goodnight Dean.”

She hung up on him. He stood there next to the rental staring at the phone and he still couldn’t believe Cal had hung up on him on his own phone. Then, once the whole pride thing began to ease up he started thinking about what she had said. His Impala was parked where she had left her Mustang.
She still had his phone, and most likely his wallet too but his baby was parked about three miles away from the bar they’d been to the night before… She’d left it where he should have thought to look for it himself. So… she had some sense of decency after all.

Cal had also mentioned being in pain. It was to be expected of course. That little twelve hour hospital stint of hers had not been easy on any of them, but especially not her. Shock, blood loss, fever and infection had all wracked her body at once. It had been sheer luck that she’d fought it off so quickly. The situation had been touch-and-go for hours and the doctors had mentioned antibiotics for the next couple of weeks to be sure that the infection stayed gone. Had she even bothered talking with the doctor before leaving? He seriously doubted it.

The anger was still there but now worry was beginning to creep in there with it as Sam drove them toward the Impala. Worry and anger were not a good combination for Dean Winchester. It generally left him short tempered and moody… and when he finally let it all out the explosion had the same impact as a nuclear warhead.

“Sam…we, uh, have to find her. Tonight.” Sam just pressed his lips together and drove a little faster. “She’s still got my phone and my wallet… and I don’t think… I mean, I seriously doubt…” Try as he might he just couldn’t put the thought into words. Sam knew though. “Yeah. I know. She left so fast that she probably didn’t bother with any meds. Which, by the way, I picked up while I went on that last coffee run before she took off.”
Well, at least they had them. Not having to drag her stubborn behind back to the hospital to get her prescription would make things a little easier. Unfortunately hearing the words out loud like that did nothing good for the worry he had begun to feel. Once again, for the sake of pride, Cal was putting her health at risk. The woman had a freaking death wish.

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Cal had known about the blood loss. The bag of blood that had been hooked up to her arm was all she’d needed to piece that much together. The shock, the fever and the infection, however, had all happened when she was either unconscious or delusional. She had no memory of it ever having happened.

So when she finally arrived at the hotel and found it hard to keep her eyes open long enough to park and check in she could only chalk it up to exhaustion from the road trip. When she finally made it into the elevator and up to the tenth floor there was barely enough energy left in her to lock the door. It was nothing short of a miracle that she was able to pull off her jeans and sneakers and crawl under the covers of the queen sized bed.

When Dean called and woke her up she realized that the hospital chill had seeped back into her bones again. She was achy and sore all over and just wanted to sleep, so that’s what she did. Only, as she rested her temperature started shooting up again. She’d been overdo for antibiotics for hours already.

She had no idea she’d even been on antibiotics. They had been given to her intravenously until her IV had been removed. There was no way she could have possibly known it, but she was in danger of landing her sorry behind right back in the hospital again.

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When it came to hiding out and covering tracks Cal was good. It had to be said. Experience and the training her father had put her through had made her damned good at what she did. Oh, she was good alright… but Dean Winchester was better and he would prove it to her before the night was out.

By the time they reached the Impala Dean had all of the days’ purchases on his credit card traced. He tracked her down through process of elimination. She’d used his card to make reservations at six different hotels but had only checked in and actually paid for the one. Figured… it was the most expensive one. After speaking with the front desk clerk Dean knew they had her.

A certain Ms. Mary Jane Watson drove in just after seven and had parked her little red Mustang in the hotel’s underground parking lot before heading up to her room. She’d explained to them that she was using her step-brothers credit card and the hotel staff had just let her. Dean pictured her batting her eyelashes and flirting shamelessly to get her way. Bunch of sad, gullible sons of… the thought didn’t even bear finishing. It didn’t matter anyway. He had his car and they’d found little miss ‘big-time-spender’. In a few minutes he would be face to face with her again and boy would he let her have it.

Now, Dean is not exactly what one would call… subtle. He’s a lot like his car: loud, obnoxious and real nice to look at. As for the many personality flaws he carries with him… well his ability to feel wholeheartedly no matter what emotion it is and his immense sense of responsibility for pretty much everything more than makes up for them. He is charming and generally modest and when he’s not, Sammy generally takes him down a notch or two. The man is a saint with a tarnished halo… unless he is pissed off.

He was already angry. Angry about having been assaulted for being concerned when Cal first asked them for help… angry about the whole bar incident… angry that Cal had been keeping stuff like bleeding to death from him… angry that she’d taken off with his car, among other things. He was worried too and that just added to the anger. He kept trying to figure out why in the hell someone would run away from the hospital so soon after nearly bleeding to death. Especially when she knew she was safe with them…

When the kid at the front desk refused to give them the room number he went from angry to livid. Seems the kid didn’t believe that Dean and Sam could possibly be related to Mary Jane Watson. Maybe it was Dean’s use of the name Peter… a little too close to the comic book hero to believable. Still… as always Dean had a back-up plan. He pulled out the one fake ID Cal had left in his jacket. He should have known better… should have checked which one it was before flashing it around to try and get his way… but nooo, he just pulled it out and proceeded to make a general fool of himself.

“Sorry man, which agency did you say you were with?” Was this kid for real? He was tossing around ‘tude to a badge? Though Dean had to respect his disregard for authority figures he was still less than happy about it. “Look, kid, doesn’t really matter which agency I’m with does it? I’m on a case and I need to speak with miss Watson and you’re going to give me her room number so I can do that. NOW.” The kid snorted at him and looked at him skeptically. Then he opened his mouth and put his life on the line.

“First of all dude, you don’t look like any government agent I’ve ever seen. You’re too rock and roll and not enough paper-pushing stuck-up jerk. I mean… where are the suits man? The guy you’re here with… way more believable.” The kid took a moment to admire the surprised, shocked look he’d managed to plaster all over Dean’s face then went on before it wore off and the scary guy started throwing punches at him.
“Secondly… whatever-you-said-you’re-name-is…Peter Parker was it? You think I was born yesterday? If you really are some sort of agent then you’re a really dumb one. You’re flashing around an ‘Official Bikini Inspector’ card.” Well, it didn’t matter how funny the situation was. Sam knew it was time to get Dean the heck out of there before he did something they wouldn’t be able to talk their way out of.
His brother had officially surpassed his threshold of patience. He’d gone from livid to officially ‘pissed-off’ in the space of a heartbeat. They were barely out the door when Dean muttered the words “fire escape” and took off toward the back of the building.

“Dean! We don’t even know what room she’s in.” Sam called out to him. What was he planning to do: peek into every window until they found the right one? “Dufus left the reservations book open. She’s in room ten-oh-five.” Dean called back. Sam had to run to catch up with him.

Who would have thought that four hours sleep in three days were not conducive to climbing ten floors worth of fire escape? It was a lesson hard learned. The boys were completely out of steam by the time they reached their destination. Still. Dean trudged on. They were close and he wouldn’t be happy until she was in his sights. It would all be for nothing if she ran off before they caught up with her. He wanted to tear a strip into her and then he wanted answers. In exactly that order.

He wasn’t exactly sure which window belonged to room ten-oh-five. Sam was not at all surprised when his brother started playing ‘peeping-tom’ looking through windows trying to find either her room or an empty one they could use to sneak into the building. As it turned out there was only one occupied room on that entire side of the tenth floor. Dean took an educated guess as to whom exactly that room belonged to. “This is it.” He said as he started to take the screen off the window and climb in. Sam wasn’t so sure.

“Dean, stop it. We don’t know that’s her room and I don’t really want to waltz in on some stranger, wake them up and then have to run out or get arrested.” “Relax Sam. This is the only room in use with access to the fire escape. She’s on the run from us and a love-sick vampire. She may be crazy and suicidal but the chic is definitely not stupid. She’ll want to be able to make a quick and above all unnoticed escape if we or her not-so-secret admirer show up.” He was going in whether Sammy followed or not.

In one look the question was passed between them: are you coming too? Sam sighed deeply, obviously unhappy. “Fine. For the record: I don’t like it.” Dean just smirked a ‘whatever’ and climbed through.

It just got better and better. The ‘room’ Cal had booked for the night wasn’t a room at all but a full sized suite. It reeked of ‘spare-no-expense’ and everything in it was high-end. They had climbed in through the living area window and it took them three tries to find the bedroom. Dean was single-minded in his quest for a curvy sleeping figure… Sam wasn’t real sure he wanted to be there when he finally found her.

So instead of following Dean, Sam went his own way in search of the kitchen. Cal would need water to be able to swallow the meds… plus he was willing to bet she hadn’t eaten since before they went to the bar the day before. Dean… well Dean was most likely going to yell… a lot… and Sam wouldn’t likely be able to calm him down until he got it all out.
Cal didn’t seem like the type who was used to people doing things for her. In fact Sam suspected that it was actually the other way around. Like Dean, Cal was the one who took care of others and preferring to carry her burdens alone. When she and Dean finally started duking it out the last thing on her mind would be taking care of herself, so Sam was going to make sure someone did.

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The only light in the bedroom came from the open doorway. Dean could barely make out the shape of the bed, let alone the figure that lay within it. He didn’t have to, he already knew it was her.

Even if he hadn’t just spent the entire night before listening to her breathing as she slept in the hospital to be sure she wasn’t taking a turn for the worst again…even if he hadn’t memorized the shape her body took when she lay curled up on her side in her favorite position for sleep…Even if she hadn’t said his name in her sleep again…

Even if… well, he would be able to make out her bags anywhere. Anyone could. They had an almost fluorescent white stripe across them that caught whatever light was available and reflected it. She’d picked them out like that so she could find them and the weapons she kept inside quickly and easily when she was in tight situations… which apparently happened a lot for her.

The first thing he noticed was that she was still wearing his t-shirt, something he was definitely okay with. It had never looked quite as good on him as it did on her. Then he noticed that she was shivering under the mountain of blankets that covered her. Not a ‘just caught a little chill’ kind of shiver. No this was a ‘something nasty coming on’ kind of violent shiver. Wasn’t nearly as bad as the night before but she would need the meds fast if she was going to avoid another hospital visit.

Pushing aside the anger momentarily he called out to Sam then rushed over to her and gently lay a hand on her forehead and cheeks. “Jesus, she’s burning up… Cal, you’ve really got to stop doing this to yourself… it kills me finding you like this.” And that’s when she opened her eyes.

At first she thought it was part of the dream. There had been several variations of the one she’d had in the hospital since she’d fallen asleep. That last one had been a bit steamier than just a kiss and each one had been more real than the next. So when she heard his voice and felt his hand touch her forehead with a gentleness that made her want to cry it was only natural for her to think she was still fast asleep.

It never occurred to her that he might actually be in the room.

She didn’t see his surprise when she sat up and leaned into him, laying her head on his shoulder. When her arms wrapped around his waist and she held on as if her life depended on it his arms went around her too and held her safely against him. Not one thing he had rehearsed on the chase all that night came to mind… “You scared the living hell out of me today woman. Don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?” was what came out instead. It was a tortured growl in his chest where her ear was pressed against him. Funny… he hadn’t been scared in any of the other dreams… at this point she didn’t care though. She was tired and it felt so good to just be held and to feel safe.

She said nothing when he shifted her out from under the blankets and onto his lap. It was cold, really cold. But he was so warm and it was so much more comfortable there than in bed so she was willing to let it go. Safe… good lord it had been a long time since she’d felt safe! It felt nice. She wasn’t willing to let it go yet. Her eyes drifted slowly shut and she went limp in Dean’s arms as she drifted off again.

He’d expected her to yell at him for showing up in her room at three o’clock in the morning… maybe throw something at him… like her fists or maybe the clock radio next to the bed. Of all the scenarios that had run through his mind that night, none of them had involved Caitlin O’Sulivan curling up in his lap, wrapping her arms around him and falling asleep. It felt good. Really, really good. Unfortunately, no matter how nice it was it meant that something was wrong… and he knew what that something was. The heat of the fever was seeping right through his clothes and she was shivering as if she was freezing.

Dean lost no time. Once again he slid an arm under her knees, the other around her back and carried her out to find Sam and the meds. Looked like they’d be bunking down here for a couple of days. One thing was for sure… he was not going to let her out of his sight. His little escape artist was not performing any more tricks…at least not until she was feeling better. He would make sure of it personally even if it meant tying her to the damned bed. She may be stubborn… but so was he and a stubborn Dean Winchester was a force to be reckoned with.

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So? What did you think? Was it too long?

Nope.

Loved it. Can't wait for more.