chosenfreedom | Bruce Wayne didn't build his lair overnight either.

Bruce Wayne didn't build his lair overnight either.

Dean was still in the luxurious room. It was neater this time. Relatively. Less food particles and drink scattered around, and more blueprints and dimensions on scrawled paper. His shirt was tucked in, and he was wearing a belt around his jeans as he walked around pacing.

He was currently on the phone, speaking with someone on the other line, "Yeah? Listen I got some plans here that I need some guys to get started on pronto. Yeah. I'll have the plans faxed over to you, but this has got to be made top priority. Also what've you got lying around the armory? Uh-huh. What about ammo? All right. Listen, bring some of that up here, plus 50 pounds of rock salt. Yeah you heard me. Rock salt. Like the crap you put down in the winter."

More pacing as he ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I told you what I need, what's the problem? Or should I tell your boss about what a hard time you're giving me? Yeah I didn't think so either. All right, thanks." He cut the connection, and set the phone down with a sigh.

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"Aw baby you know what I like," Dean nearly purred with approval at her suggestion. "I mean we talk to the Coroner's office often, but hell, that'd save some of the damn red tape. Wouldn't even have to hack."

That wasn't really his thing, that was always more of...Sam. Yeah Sam was good at all that shit. He blinked and shook his head. Things went fuzzy, but it's not like he'd freaking forget about his brother. That's crazy talk.

"Damn, guess it's time for a break."

It was surprising how little these hunters had to work with, and yet managed what they did. Which made this little arrangement all the more useful. She hadn't simply gained a hunting hound, but an entire new community, modes of thinking. And at such little cost.

Lara hid a smile behind a look of concern when Dean shook his head, but her voice sounded pleased when she spoke. Pleased with the progress. Pleased with him. "That sounds like an excellent idea." She took the plans from his hands and returned them to the table, the smile now tugging at the corner of her lips. "Unless you wanted to take that break alone?"

It was a sparse community too. Bobby had more contact and ties than Dean ever had, especially since the Apocalypse left some bridges burned. But here, it was different. However, it was one of limited resources and manpower dealing with bleak conditions. If this meant they could get to people sooner before the body count rises, it'd be another way this will be worth it.

He turned to her, his earlier concerns falling away.

"Wasn't planning on it. Got something in mind? I'm...pretty open."

His answer coaxed a low, honeyed laugh from Lara. She was more than aware of exactly how... open her latest buck could be. So eager and willing despite the bitter edge of despair. Or maybe because of it.

She leaned over and kissed the curve of Dean's neck, her teeth scraping lightly against his throat as her hand slid along the back of his head and into his hair. "Maybe. But take my coat first, won't you, love?"

Dean leaned his head back, and there was a moan at her teeth. He swallowed thickly, and slowly nodded as his hands came up to help remove her coat. As the material fell away, he stared at what the overcoat had hid. As if his brain wasn't already fuzzy, it just about stopped thinking for the moment.

She purred with approval at his response, shedding the overcoat with a serpentine grace. There was no need to feed, only the Hunger's mindless desire for more, but she enjoyed playing the game, strengthening and reinforcing the unseen subtle desires in the pup's mind that let him stay.

At Dean's stunned stare, Lara laughed and sucked lightly at his lower lip before taking a step back. "Cat got your tongue?" she asked, amused, as she reached for the liquor cabinet next to the dresser and pulled out two shot glasses.

Dean blinked once, twice though he tried to kiss back with the distraction. Still it took him another moment before he recovered enough to speak.

"Uh wow, that's... That's one hell of an outfit."

She took a moment to fish a bottle of bourbon out of the liquor cabinet before responding, honeyed laughter coating her words. "It was a long day on set."

She paused to pour a measure into each glass. "Maybe I'll bring you with me tomorrow."

Dean just managed to stop the teenaged part of his brain... which was roughly 70-80% of it from asking about her long hard day. He was able to tear his eyeballs away to notice the drink, and accepted the glass from her when it was offered. Good smooth with hardly any burn, clearly the good stuff.

"Yeah? Is it take your hot date to work day? Because I'd love to see it. See how you work."

Lara sipped her own drink, letting the bourbon trip over her tongue as she watched expressions play over Dean's face. It had been hard to judge just how absorbed the buck had gotten in his project, but his answer told her enough. Focused but still susceptible to distraction. To small delays that would let her ensure he couldn't turn against hers before she let him loose.

She set the half-empty glass of bourbon back on the counter and ran her hand up Dean's arm, fingernails scraping. "You haven't seen enough, pet?"

Dean had been very focused before, he's the kind of guy who works hard and plays hard in turn. He swallowed more of the bourbon. Hard to not down it all in one shot like he usually did. As it was, he drained 2/3rds of his tumbler quickly. A brief shiver ran down his spine, and his voice was deeper with lust as well as alcohol.

"Feel like I'm only getting started. Take things out to the highway and see the sights you know?"

"Mmm, I do like the way you think." One hand remained on Dean's arm while the other traced up the curve of his spine, the touch warm and soft but beneath it holding the promise of scraping nails, of pain and pleasure. "No doubt you'll be terribly distracting to the other women on set."

He smirked a little, "Hey, I can be a good boy, I'll just watch. Ain't like you got audience participation there anyway."

Dean hissed, and his back twitched, "Oh shit, speaking of distractions." Yeah everything was liking those nails a little too much right now, and he had to fight to the urge to adjust himself as he stood there.

"Are you sure about that?" Despite the laughter that gilded her words, there was something in Lara's voice, some subtle confidence that made it seem like everything she said was true, available for the taking, if only a price was paid.

She purred, pleased, at Dean's hiss. "We wouldn't want you too distracted. Especially since I can't help but wonder what you want fifty pounds of rock salt for."

Dean turned to her, catching the hint in her voice, and chasing after it, "Hey, if you're offering something for special guests...won't say no."

He nodded fervently, and shifted his stance to be more comfortable. Though her next question made him sharpen up, clicking back to his hunter training.

"Works against ghosts and hurts demons. Can use it for a barrier to keep them out. Also you can put it in bullets to use against them. Slows them down, but gives you time to gank them."

She hummed thoughtfully at the answer. It wasn't so much the words themselves that intrigued her, but the way Dean's attention had sharpened into focus at the question. It was almost instinctive, pushing through the haze of physical distraction. A good thing to know, and with knowing came wanting to know just how far it could be pushed.

"So you weren't just hoping to bunker down for the winter." She leaned into him, soft curves pressing against his back while her arm snaked around his waist, fingernails trailing along his front. "It does beg the question of how you kill a ghost, pet."

Instinctive, absolutely. Years upon years of hunting training being drilled into his head by his father. He didn't react as much this time to her touches, only marginally physical. But the tension, the battle alertness was in him again. When he was on a hunt, he threw himself into it. He only would drink in between hunts, he learned that lesson the hard way. Distractions meant death when you lost your focus.

He shook his head, and gave a brief chuckle, "No. You gotta dig up the bones, or when they're not there, usually there's something else tieing the spirit to our realm. You salt the remains, and burn them."

Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully at his response, both physical and verbal. She could feel the tension beneath her hands, practically taste the practiced mental focus that shrugged off the lightest touch of desire. A cold, calculating smile played at the corner of her lips at the change. The difference between the pup and the hound.

The question then, of course, became how to turn from one to the other, and back again. She broke contact and leaned back against the counter as she picked up the half-empty glass of bourbon, scrutinizing Dean with intelligent grey eyes. "And then it's over?"

Brief disappointment as she leaned away from him, but it made things easier. He was still tense, and didn't touch the glass further for now.

Dean turned his head toward her, and nodded, "You got it. Ghost goes bye bye, and there's one less spook killing people again. They're usually the easier hunts."

She listened, and the cool smile grew warm with predatory instinct. It was more than a game now, it was knowledge, information, learning about how the buck ticked, how his mind worked. "And then you'll come back, won't you?" It sounded like a question, but there was steel in her words, the memory of a promise.

"You hunt, but then you come back for rest, for peace."

Some mild puzzlement crossed his face as he peered back at her, the tension easing out of his form again. Why wouldn't he come back? Everything he needed was here.

Not the open road though, blaring his tunes with the window down on his Impala. He missed that, missed her.

Missed... L..Lara, was there another name? Dark hair, began with L, and a boy. But there was no boy here. Just Lara. All he needed.

"I'll come back, no reason to bother with those crappy motels anymore than I need to."

Something like triumph flitted across Lara's face as she watched Dean's expression, as tension drained out of him and puzzled confusion took its place. So there was some nobility buried deep beneath all that brokenness after all. Something that remembered promises made and repaid debts.

That always helped. But there was still far too much independence to let him loose yet. "Good." The single word was velvet smooth, filled with approval, and Lara offered him the half-filled glass of bourbon. Her eyes swept over him with a slow, smoldering look, as much to confuse as to evoke desire. "I'd miss you if you stayed away too long, love."

It's one of the reasons he didn't follow his brother into hell, or just killed himself after the dark events six months ago. The promise made to his brother. Even as he could only deliver a shell of a man containing a shattered soul and heart.

Dean blinked slowly, keeping eye contact. He was needed here, she needed him. Something felt very reassuring to him. To feel wanted. He was also surprised because he wasn't worthy of such attention, never have been.

"I can just start on quick ones. Get in, get out, and come right back here. Got nowhere else to go," he agreed as he took the offered glass, and finished it in one long pull.

Edited 2011-03-30 04:40 (UTC)

Much better. She closed the distance again as Dean took the glass from her fingers, soft curves pressing against him. Subtle gestures, tiny wordless acts that played on the affection-starved part of Dean's mind, that physically reinforced the planted mental suggestion that he was desired, wanted, needed. Given time it would be all but impossible to separate one from the other.

Her hand ran up his spine again, the same promise of pleasure and pain that had made him his so well before. "Mmm... I like that plan."

Dean relaxed further even as her hand alighted his nerves, quickened his breath. He was hunting again, but there was a place for his weary soul. She needed him which meant she won't walk away. He didn't have to be alone now. His thoughts were filled with peace, want, and contentment.

"Figured you would. Once I got those supplies ready.. I can show some of your boys how it gets done too. No sense in them getting caught with their pants down against a Black Dog or a Rawhead."

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