Tasha was in the shower for a long time. Dean had sprawled on the closest bed with a groan and was actually dozing off by the time he heard the bathroom door squeak open. He glanced over to see just her head peering out into the room.
"Tell me you got my bag out of my trunk before it went up in flames," she said, raising a hopeful eyebrow.
Dean winced. "I got your weapons duffle out," he offered sheepishly.
"Are you telling me I have no clothes … at all?"
Dean didn't see a problem with that. He grinned, getting off the bed and making his way over to her. She was standing behind the open door, her fingers curled around the edge as she used it as a shield, modestly keeping herself hidden behind it. He came up to the other side of the door, grinning cheekily as he stuck his head around to find she was wrapped in a towel.
Her hair was damp, her shoulders glistened, and Dean could feel the humid warmth from her skin on his cheek as he leaned over her. "You can borrow another one of my shirts," he joked, his voice sounding huskier than intended. He found himself unable to pull away from the door.
"You're going shopping for me tomorrow," she said with feigned sternness, stepping past him and out into the room, her hand clasping the knot in the towel at her chest. "At Wal-Mart," she added, "Not the Salvation Army. You're buying me new clothes." Dean laughed as he moved over to his duffle and rooted through it for a clean shirt. "You can even take Roar with you," she teased.
"Tell you what," he countered with a sly grin, his eyes roaming down the full length of her and back up. "I'll send Sam to the store and Roar can pick up the tab. I think I'd better stay here and make sure you don't get into any trouble - you know, make sure you're not damaging any of my shirts."
Just then the door opened and Sam walked in, followed closely by Bobby. Dean couldn't help but notice Tasha's cheeks flush and wasn't sure if it was from his flirting or the fact that she was now standing in a towel in a room full of men.
A huge smile spread across Sam's face when his eyes fell on her. "God Tasha," he said to her with a shake of the head, very convincingly not seeming to notice she was only covered by a small piece of white cloth. "I still can't believe you're alive. I had pretty much given up on finding you."
"Tash, this is Bobby Singer," Dean introduced the bearded older hunter bringing up the rear since things at the house had been too rushed to be making introductions.
"Nice to see you again, Bobby," Tasha said politely, grasping the knot in her towel and shuffling her bare feet uncomfortably. Dean realized he had forgotten it had been Bobby who had directed Tasha to his grave in Illinois back in July so the two had already met.
"Nice to see you alive, darlin'," Bobby drawled, seemingly unfazed by her lack of clothes. "May be now we can all get some sleep." At that he turned back towards the door. "Well, the vampire's dead, the girl's rescued, and everyone's in one piece," he said, sounding tired. "I'm going to bed."
Sam grinned at his old friend's bluntness and looked back at Dean and Tasha, his smile disappearing when the awkwardness of the situation hit him. Bobby had claimed the second room that Sam had rented for Tasha just before she had disappeared and he and Dean had been sharing the other one as usual. Now Dean was standing by his duffle on the table and the brunette had made her way over to hover next to him. It didn't take a genius to see they had brushed aside the awkwardness between them from before Diego had entered the picture. Sam took in the looks Dean was giving the half-naked girl and felt his cheeks flushing.
"Uh, Bobby," he called, stopping the older man. "Think I could uh, bunk with you tonight?"
Bobby looked around the room and rolled his eyes. "Come on, y'idjit," he grumbled, disappearing outside. Sam threw a flushed smile at the two in the room and followed him out, closing the door firmly behind him.
"Well, that was subtle," Dean chuckled, pulling his black t-shirt out of his bag and giving it an approving sniff.
"I'm not complaining," Tasha smiled up at him.
Dean's heart rate doubled when he caught the look she was giving him. "Uh, I found you a shirt," he said, holding the bunched up black material between them.
"You want me to put it on now?" she raised an eyebrow at him.
Shit, she was putting the ball completely in his court. He took a deep breath. Fuck it.
He tossed the t-shirt over his shoulder onto the floor and stepped right up to her, his hands going to her waist and his lips finding hers. "No," he breathed between a fervent series of kisses. "I'd just have to take it back off."
He wasn't meeting any resistance. Her hands released the towel knot and slid around the back of his neck. It didn't take more than two seconds for the towel to drop to the floor.
Dean let out a loud groan, pulling back for just a few seconds to soak up the view. God he'd missed that body. She was the last woman he had been with before his forty year stretch in Hell and was about to be the first since his return. As he stared at her now - her soft eyes, her smooth skin, her perky breasts, that curvy Spanish ass of hers - all those years in between started to melt away.
He closed the gap between them, drawing her in and kissing her hungrily as she tugged at the hem of his t-shirt. He grabbed it and yanked it off over his head, stepping back in to press up against her as his arms slid around to the small of her back. His breaths grew heavy when he felt the heat of her moist skin against his chest and he dipped his head down to nip and suck her neck, his hands once again moving to her waist. He walked her backwards towards the closest bed, not caring at all that it was Sam's. He kept pushing her gently even after the back of her knees hit the mattress, his mouth never leaving hers as he lowered her down.
His hands rubbed and caressed their way down to her breasts as her fingers reached for his belt buckle. She moaned loudly and arched her back off the bed when he took a nipple in his mouth.
"Take them off," she panted, giving up her fumbling with his stubborn buckle. He felt her legs loosen from around his lowered hips so he could straighten up enough to remove his jeans. He grinned down at her sprawled form as he unbuttoned them but was surprised when her attention shifted and she squealed and wriggled away, turning on all fours.
He pushed his jeans and boxers down to his ankles and kicked them off, groaning at the sight of Tasha's ass waving in the air at him as she reached for something on the bedside table.
"Whacha doin'?" he asked curiously, climbing fully naked onto the bed on his knees. Surely she wasn't going to make him wear a condom? He hadn't been with anyone else and she couldn't have kids because of a hunting injury she suffered when she was nineteen. They hadn't used protection since their first week together.
He heard a few successive clinking sounds and the grin sprang back on his face when the bed started vibrating.
"Magic fingers," she smirked, turning around to face him with a suggestive waggle of her eyebrows.
"See that right there is what makes you so perfect," he groaned, beckoning for her to come to him.
On her knees three feet away, her eyes roamed hungrily down his torso, clearly noticing that he was standing at full attention. Her smile faded, however, as they drifted back up and she paused. "Your scars are gone," she breathed, sounding surprised. She ran her finger along the curve of her hip. "Mine are too," she informed him.
He glanced down to where he had noticed a new scar only three days ago peeking out of her jean waistline. It was gone. He reached out and traced his fingers gently down the side of her left breast where she used to have a long scar from a resilient Dharga, also gone.
"It was Cas," he told her, shuffling slowly forward and brushing her hair off her shoulder. He leaned forward and feathered a soft kiss on her silky smooth shoulder where she used to sport a small but puckered burn mark. "When he shoved me back in my meat suit, he musta stopped by Macco first."
Her lips ghosted over the handprint on his upper arm. "Is that when you got this?"
"Yeah." He brought his arms around her, not wanting to talk about Cas or Hell, and kissed her firmly. She pressed up against him, moaning softly when his hardness throbbed against her stomach.
"Lie down, babe," he whispered, again lowering her onto the still-vibrating bed. His mouth explored hers and his hands never stopped moving, touching every part of her he could reach and needing more with every passing second. Her hands seemed to be doing the same, as if both of them were trying to make up for every second they had been apart, every moment of lost intimacy and physical contact.
Eventually he moved his mouth downwards, leaving a trail of wet kisses and flicks of the tongue down her neck, circling around each breast as his hands glided down her thighs to her knees and gently pushed them farther apart.
"Oh Dean," she moaned, the desperate aching tone in her voice making it clear she knew where he was headed. Her head tipped back, pressing into the pillow and her hands ran through the short spikes of his hair. She gasped and arched her back in the air when he breathed his hot breath on her opening, her hips quivering in anticipation. He didn't keep her waiting long but gave her inner thigh a teasing flick of his tongue before diving in and lapping at her gently, dancing his tongue in and out of her most sensitive spot.
Her breaths were heavy but her moans were soft as she bucked her hips ever so slowly into his mouth. Her hands left his head and stroked small circles up his arms to his hands, which were tenderly kneading her breasts, twisting and pinching her already hard nipples.
"Oh God, Dean," she murmured, much more quietly than she usually did, sounding more vulnerable than he remembered. "I've missed you," she told him, her eyes closed and her head still tipped back. "And I've missed this, oh God baby, I'm already there!"
And with that her back arched upwards again, her fingers curling around his wrists as he felt her tighten and pulsate around his tongue, a warm stream of wetness trickling down her thighs.
He took a moment to lick and suck at the juices before kissing his way back up her enticing body, feeling his restraint quickly leaving him as he did so. With the taste of her still pleasuring his taste buds, he reached her mouth and drove his tongue inside. She wrapped her legs around him and her arms clung to his back as she returned the kiss, which was growing more heated and more passionate with every passing second.
He was achingly hard and could feel her wetness sliding against his full length. His hips ground down on her and she cried out softly. "Dean, I need you in me," she moaned, pulling him towards her with her strong, hunter's legs. "Please."
"Tash," he ground out and pushed himself into her slowly, reveling in the heights of pleasure he was feeling. He moved in and out slowly, unable to remember anything so wonderful, so delightful, so sensual. After decades of pain and hatred and evil all around, the contrast was almost overwhelming. He fought to rein in a flood of emotions, surprising the Hell out of himself because it wasn't usually until after sex that the needy, emo side of him emerged.
He started to pick up speed but slowed again, craving the closeness he could savor more with a leisurely pace. He lowered himself back down to kiss her mouth once more, unable to keep his distance. She must have shared the sentiment, for she clung to him as her tongue drew his in, her chest rising to touch his with every long, passionate stroke of his pelvis. It was as if she was trying to get as much physical contact as she could, her palms rubbing needy circles on his back. He continued to thrust into her softly, lavishing her neck and shoulders with kisses before returning again to her mouth.
Finally, he sat up slowly and, not wanting to lose any of the warmth of her touch, he pulled her up with him so she was straddling his lap as he knelt on the bed. They never stopped kissing in between their breathy panting and she gasped at his first thrust in the new position.
His hands moved to her hips and he began to pull her towards him with every forward buck of his hips, sinking himself deeper within her every time. His body responded to the intense heat and tightness of her and he could feel the warmth starting to pool in his abdomen.
"Oh God, you feel so good," he panted, as keenly aware of the truth behind his words as he was of her closeness in both body and soul. He had forgotten that anything could feel this good. A softness and warmth not just on the outside but spreading through his insides, relaxing the twisted knot in his heart as they rocked together and breathed soft moans into each other's mouths.
She moaned again in response and opened her eyes, gazing at him with a longing he knew came from her very core. Just inches apart, his eyes held her gaze as she swayed on him, moving back and forth as he slid in and out of her.
"I love you," she breathed, never taking her eyes off his.
The words hit him like a bolt of lightning. She had never said that before. In fact, he had never heard those words spoken to him before by anyone and been able to truly believe them, which he did now. He kept rolling her hips forward, never breaking their rhythm, but his mind was spinning trying to figure out how to respond.
He loved her too. He knew this without a doubt and quite suddenly he badly wanted to tell her so. He hesitated for only a second before moving his lips to say it in return but her mouth devoured the words before they could come out as she kissed him hungrily. She eventually pulled away for air, her arms still wrapped around his neck, and she whispered in his ear. "It's okay. I heard you the first time."
She had heard him. He had said the words as she lay close to death and she had heard him. He felt a happiness inside he couldn't describe. Like a weight off his chest and a huge serving of hope in his glass at the same time. Tasha let out another moan and tipped her head back and he could tell she was getting as close to release as he was.
She rocked a couple more times then cried out, her fingernails digging into his shoulder blades and her body arching backwards, strong thighs squeezing his hips. Dean could feel the ripples of pleasure coursing through her and the small spurt of hot wetness he felt as he pushed in one last time was enough to send him over the edge also. He pulled her firmly onto him and let go inside, holding her close as they panted and moaned in each other's ears.
They stayed like that a long time, clinging to each other in comfortable, satisfied silence, the only sound the dull buzzing of the still-vibrating bed. He finally lowered her to the mattress and kissed her softly. They relaxed into each other's arms, each tracing their fingers over some part of the other's torso. Propped up on her elbow next to him, she lightly touched the hand-shaped mark on his shoulder.
"Howcome I didn't get one of those when he healed me?" she asked, stealing another kiss as she spoke.
"That's coz Cas was in his angel form when he came to Hell to pull me out," Dean replied matter-of-factly. "I guess that's where he grabbed me; I don't really remember that part. It was human-Cas that healed you."
She chuckled, laying her head in the crook of his arm. "Human Cas was kinda cute."
Dean couldn't hold back his snort of disbelief. "Are you kidding me? He's a nerd."
"A nerd who saved both our lives."
"Yeah," he sighed, enjoying the feel of her finger running lazy circles over his shoulder, his side, and his hip. He swallowed at the mention of Hell, not wanting to let the memories interfere with this moment. She must have noticed for she looked up at him.
"It's all in the past, Dean," she said, using her wandering finger to gently turn his face so she could hold his gaze when she said it.
"I know but..." He stopped, not sure how much he wanted to spill just yet. "You know how I told you I don't remember anything?" he said slowly.
She nodded but remained silent.
"Well, I do." His voice wasn't much more than a whisper now. He couldn't believe he was saying this much but that closeness and that openness they had shared before he had died had just fallen back into place, maybe even stronger than before. But he wasn't ready to go any further. "I remember everything but I just can't talk about it yet," he admitted. "I just can't..."
She kissed him on the lips. "Okay," she said simply. "You don't have to. When you're ready."
He didn't answer but simply lay his head down on the pillow, her head still cradled in the crook of his arm.
"Dean?" she said hesitantly.
"Mm hm?" he replied lazily, feeling suddenly drowsy with contentment.
"I'm gonna be blunt here, so don't get mad or all awkward, okay?"
Uh-oh. That didn't sound good. "What?" he asked, tensing ever so slightly.
"Well, I've got to tell you something and I'm done tiptoeing around your insecurities and your need to protect anyone and everyone else but yourself. I want you to be honest with youself – do what you want and not what you think is best for me."
"Okay..." he couldn't suppress a smile at her bossy tone.
"I want in. I want to hunt with you and travel with you and stop this apocalypse with you and … I just want to be with you. So I'm coming with you guys. And remember, if you say no, I apparently have a kick-ass car now so I can just follow you wherever you go. So don't even try telling me to go…"
Dean cut her off with a laugh, leaning down and kissing her hard. "I don't want you to go," he told her.
"What? Are you saying I can stay with you?"
"I'm saying you'd better."
For the first time in his life, Dean was putting himself out there. Letting himself love someone other than his family even knowing he was opening himself up to the risk of the pain of losing them. He had spent three days thinking he would never see Tasha again and now, holding her in his arms and feeling her heart thumping against his, after hearing her tell him she loved him, he didn't want to go without her anymore. Fuck it. They would figure this out. Maybe even stop the apocalypse after all. With Tasha, Bobby and Sam at his side, maybe he stood a fighting chance. Maybe he could make up for all he had done in Hell. Maybe he could be happy someday and they could all find some peace.
He tilted her head up to his, their faces hovering an inch apart as her brown eyes sparkled at him. Maybe his life didn't totally suck after all.
Dean woke up in a hospital room. A typically bland and pastel room like so many he had been in before over the years. He tried to remember what had happened that he had ended up in here and had a vague notion of a werewolf hunt gone wrong but he was distracted by the sight that greeted him on the bedside table. There were six single-serving tubs of jelly stacked in a precarious-looking tower next to a plastic-wrapped spoon.
"Oh this is my lucky day," he grinned, grabbing the top one and ripping the lid off with his teeth before digging in. Cherry, mmmmm. He leaned back into his huge mound of soft pillows, crossed his booted feet and grabbed the remote to see if Dr. Sexy was on any of the three channels on the wall-mounted television. Dean was of the firm belief that besides phone numbers for hot nurses, jelly tubs were the only good thing that hospitals had to offer.
Ooh, speaking of hot nurses! He leaned over and pressed the call button on the wall next to the bedside table three times, grinning in anticipation and hoping like Hell that Annie Wilkes didn't appear in the doorway.
He groaned when he saw Cas instead, appearing in the blink of an eye at the foot of his bed wearing his usual grave expression. Dean sighed loudly. "I'm dreaming, huh?"
Before the angel could answer, Tasha appeared in the doorway clad in the skimpiest nurse's outfit Dean had ever seen. A white skirt that barely covered the red thong showing through the thin material and about three too many buttons left unfastened at the top, not hiding much of her matching red lace bra. She gave Dean a confused look first, then Cas, then down at her own revealing state of dress.
"What's going on?"
"Nurse Natasha," Dean sang cheerfully from the bed. "I think it's time for my spongebath." He turned back to Cas. "Dude, you need to get out of my dream. This is the first good one I've had since I got back from Hell. Can we talk later?"
Cas turned his head to the brunette then back to Dean, his face never cracking a smile. "This is important," he said sternly. "I need to speak to you." He looked back to Tasha. "Both of you."
Creases of thought appeared in Dean's forehead. "If this is my dream then she's not really here … right?" he asked.
"You were both sleeping," Cas explained a bit impatiently. "I brought her into your dream so we could talk in private."
"You brought me in dressed like this?" Tasha gave the man in the trench coat a disapproving look as she moved over to stand next to Dean, who was now sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs hanging over the side.
Dean could have sworn he saw a flicker of embarrassment cross the angel's face but Cas answered her in an even voice.
"That was Dean's doing."
Dean grinned sheepishly when Tasha raised an eyebrow at him. "So this is what you dream about?" she accused teasingly. "This is your fantasy?"
He shrugged with exaggerated feigned innocence before turning back to Cas. "Thanks, dude. A little head's up would have been nice," he berated.
"Nurses huh?" Tasha's hand moved to rest on his jean-clad thigh. "I'll have to remember that."
"We have important things to discuss," Cas interrupted, shuffling uncomfortably.
"Well, I'll start by saying thank-you," Tasha said sincerely.
"I'll second that," Dean offered, giving Cas an appreciative nod as he pushed himself off the bed. "Maybe having an angel hanging around has its perks after all," he admitted grudgingly.
"I didn't heal Natasha as a favor to you," Cas said sternly.
"Why did you do it?" Tasha asked.
"The order came from above."
Dean knew he should be pleased that God had apparently decided to save Tasha's life but he couldn't help feeling trepidation and thinking there must be a catch.
"Natasha may have a role to play."
Dean's jaw tightened at the unwelcome revelation. "Come again?" His tone was vaguely threatening.
Cas narrowed his blue eyes at the hunter, a slight frown appearing on his face. Dean was reminded of the threat the angel had made about showing him respect because he could throw him back in the pit. He had to admit, for a nerdy guy, Castiel could be intimidating but right now, the worry that Tasha was going to be dragged into this apocalypse thing was trumping any fear he had of the angel.
Still speaking to Dean, Cas continued, his raspy voice deepening in a slightly ominous manner. "It has been written that if Lucifer is freed, Natasha may have a role to play in defeating him."
"I should have known you didn't do it out of the goodness of your heart," Dean ground out.
"What kind of role?" Tasha asked, sounding fascinated by the prospect.
"Doesn't matter 'cause you're not getting involved," Dean told her, his arm subconsciously lifting in front of the brunette as if to shield her from the angel.
"This is not her choice, Dean," Cas warned. "This is her fate."
"Well tell me something," Dean fired back. "Would this be her 'fate' if she'd never met me? Did I drag her into this?"
"Dean, this isn't your fault," Tasha said quickly, pushing his arm down. "Remember Diego was after me long before you ever met me. He would have found me anyway and he would have killed me if it weren't for you and Cas here."
"Not necessarily," Cas said.
"Say what?" Dean gave him a suspicious look, acutely aware that the angel was confirming that he had brought this on Tash.
"We have learned that demons working under Lilith were searching for the vampire recently. It is likely they directed her to Natasha."
"Why?" Dean and Tasha asked in unison.
"Probably simply to antagonize or hurt you and Sam," Cas said simply. "We don't know."
"Well what do you know?" Dean demanded, expressing his sudden guilt as anger and directing it at Cas.
"Only that she may have a role to play. My superiors only just became aware of her importance and I was ordered not to let her die at the hands of the vampire."
Dean took a deep breath to rein in his rising temper. "That's all you can tell us? You expect us to just believe that she 'may someday somehow do something'?" His sarcasm was anything but subtle but Cas remained silent, his shoulders stiffening slightly.
"What do you want me to do?" Tasha asked the angel and Dean knew she was embracing this new 'role' without the distrust he was harnessing.
Cas turned to address her directly, clearly choosing to ignore Dean and the hard, angry stare the hunter was aiming his way.
"First you must leave," he told her. "It is unsafe for you to be near the Winchesters."
Tasha's eyes widened and she shook her head vigorously. "Leave Dean? No way."
"Your role is still unclear but we think the demons are yet unaware of your importance as this revelation has just come to light," Cas explained. "Dean and Sam are well known by the demons. If you stay with them, it will be a matter of time before they figure out who you are and they will kill you."
He spoke so bluntly, so lacking in empathy, and to Dean that made his words even more terrifying. The part about demons killing her was bad enough, but Cas was also asking that she leave him, which meant he wouldn't be around to protect her if they tried.
"I'm not leaving Dean," she repeated showing no trace now of her previous eagerness to follow the angel's plan. She took a sideways step closer to the tall hunter as if to emphasize her point.
"She's safer if I'm there to look out for her, Cas," Dean argued. He couldn't explain to the angel that he was barely hanging on and he needed her around more than he needed air. Since his return from Hell almost three weeks ago, this night he had spent with her was the first time he had actually believed he may be okay, that he could possibly make it past all he had gone through and atone for all he had done. That he could help God and his angels stop the apocalypse. He needed her. "She's safer with me."
"No, she is not."
His directness hit Dean like a slap in the face and he found his resistance faltering. An uneasy silence blanketed the room for a short moment. "Will she be safe if I let her go?" Dean asked finally, his voice low and throaty.
"I don't know," Cas answered, his shoulders relaxing in his first sign of genuine concern. "But if she stays with you now, she will die." He paused before adding a hesitant "I'm sorry."
Dean doubted the Soldier of God even knew what sorry meant. To the angels, humans were all just pawns. That's all he was and now Tasha was too. But at least she was alive and the memory of her dying in his arms a few hours ago was entirely too fresh for him to argue any further.
"Okay," he conceded.
"What? No!" Tasha cried, looking up at him sharply.
"You must have no contact," Cas continued, ignoring her outburst. "Lilith has every demon that follows her keeping their eyes out for you and your brother. One small mistake and you could lead them to Natasha."
Dean's heart twisted in anguish at the thought but he didn't argue.
"No way. I'm not leaving, never mind no contact." Tasha was not being so accepting.
Dean reached out and placed an appeasing hand on her arm but looked back to Cas when he spoke. "So if I help you stop the apocalypse," he said, wanting to get something straight, "Then Lucifer never rises and then Tash doesn't have this important role or whatever, right? Then she's safe?"
Cas nodded. "Then she will be of no importance to demons," he confirmed.
Dean turned back to the girl, whose face held more fear than anger or defiance.
"Tash," he began.
"Don't say it Dean," she cut him off. "I just got you back; I am not leaving you."
"You'll die of you stay with me, babe." He hoped reason would work. He was wrong.
"I don't care," she exclaimed and he honestly believed her. "I'd rather be in danger with you or even dead than go without you, Dean." Her soft, brown eyes looked pleadingly into his green ones. "Not now, after everything. The way I feel…"
The three words she had so bravely spoken to him earlier rang in his ears, making his heart thump as quickly now as they had the first time. "It's just until we stop Lilith."
"I don't want to be alone again," she whispered, her hands moving up to rest on his chest.
He pulled her closer to him and held her gaze. "Do you remember how you felt when you found out I had died?" he asked her in a hushed voice.
She nodded and he saw a hard swallow move down her throat.
"Are you really gonna make me go through that?" he asked, knowing he was playing dirty but hey, desperate times and all... "I already went through it twice tonight – I don't want to do it again, for good this time."
He knew the moment she backed down for her eyes saddened and her hands fisted gently in his shirt. It only lasted a moment, however, before he saw her pull herself together and straighten her shoulders before turning to face the angel who was standing quietly at the foot of the bed.
"Why does everything have to have a price for you angels?" she demanded hotly. Castiel's eyes widened slightly in obvious surprise but he wasn't allowed to answer before she continued dressing him down. "You shouldn't have needed his help before you rescued him from hell. You should have done it because he's a good person who didn't deserve to be there. Because it was the right thing to do and you're a freaking angel! Angels are supposed to do what's right, aren't they?"
Cas clearly recovered from his surprise for his eyes narrowed slightly at the girl who was practically yelling at him now. "I did not make the deal with a demon that put him in Hell," he pointed out. "And I did not set the vampire Dago upon you, yet I saved you both." His voice was deepening further and there was an unmistakable power behind it that Dean couldn't help but find intimidating. "You should be more appreciative and you should be honored to have been chosen by fate for the chance to fight with Heaven for all of humanity's sake," Cas finished.
Tasha clearly sensed the power and the threat behind the words for she backed down, leaning back ever so slightly into Dean's chest behind her. "Okay," she said finally, with more strength in her voice than Dean had expected. "Point taken. And I'll keep my distance from Sam and Dean but just so you know," she wagged a finger at Cas. "If anything happens to him or his brother on this mission of yours, I'm coming after you."
Dean couldn't help but laugh, both at her insolence and at the baffled look on the angel's face after being hit with such a preposterous and unsustainable threat. He spun her around to face him, an amused grin on his face. "Babe, please don't threaten the angels," he chuckled, bending down and giving her a hard kiss on the mouth to shut her up.
As usual, she instantly kissed him back and he felt the tension dissipating from her shoulders. After a long moment she pulled away and twisted her top half around to face Cas, her arms wrapped tightly around the green-eyed hunter. "Can I stay in his dream?" she asked Cas bluntly and Dean stifled a cough of disbelief.
Cas pulled his face into a slight frown, which was starting to become a familiar expression to the elder Winchester. "No,' he said, sounding uncomfortable. "It doesn't work that way. When I leave you shall both wake up."
She looked disappointed when she turned back to Dean and he smiled at her, planting another firm kiss on her lips and pulling her so close she could feel the effect she was having on him through the fabric of his jeans. "Don't worry, babe," he whispered. "We're together in the motel room, remember?"
Her lips curled upwards and her eyes sparked mischievously. "That's right," she cooed. "And we're naked." Again she turned her head to the angel. "Okay, don't get me wrong, it was nice to meet you," she smiled at him, "But I'm so ready to wake up now."
Castiel's body was stiff and his shoulders rigid and he looked like someone had just pushed that stick up his ass further in. He shuffled his feet slightly, a sign of his obvious discomfort. He looked to Dean and his frown deepened.
The hunter just grinned and shrugged at him. "Bye Cas," he smirked.
And in a blink he woke up, a naked Tasha pressed up against him as they were still entwined in each other's arms. She too was stirring, her eyelashes fluttering for a brief second before opening fully to allow her to meet his gaze. He could feel his naked body responding to the kiss they had shared in the dream and he ran his hand up the length of her shapely torso before sliding it behind her neck and pulling her head towards his.
"Well," he said in a husky voice as he moved his mouth to nibble on her earlobe. "If this is our last night together, let's make the most of it." He rolled himself on top of her and smothered her delighted squeal with a hungry kiss.
A/N: So that's the end of my first story – I hope you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed writing it. The 'sequel' is set in season 5 and explains a lot more about Tasha's supposed role in averting the apocalypse. It isn't a romance though, so although Tasha has an important role, the story is more about the brothers and Cas. BIG BIG love to all those who faved, alerted, and reviewed so far. I would really really appreciate everyone who's read this whole thing leaving a review to let me know what you thought :-) Which part did you like the best? 1, 2 or 3? Are you up for a sequel?
Update: The sequel is now being posted and is called Can't Catch Me Coz the Rabbit Done Died. Check it out! :D