Writer's Note: So this is a fic that I wrote awhile ago. I'm incredibly inactive on livejournal these days, but this story was originally posted there & I literally just forgot to cross-post it. I edited the first part today though - tomorrow I'll post the second edited part & then it'll be complete! Credit goes to leah_elisabeth for having prompted this fic in the Oh Sam LJ community's hurt/comfort fic meme: fall/winter/holiday (11-2012). Thank you!
Kitty licked her stained red lips and lifted her eyes from the wineglass to rest on the man before her. Charming, attractive, and great in bed, Dean Harrison was a catch.
They were having a Christmas Eve dinner, exchanging witty banter and enjoying their flirting exchanges of innuendos. Over the past week, Kitty had met and fallen for this man. This, 'hero,' of sorts. Of course, he traveled and it would make their relationship quite difficult but the strength of their connection would persevere. She knew the ropes: she needed Dean to believe it too. The last time she wore her heart on her sleeve was a disaster; she couldn't go through it again – she was lucky she'd been under eighteen at the time so her record could clear.
"So, tell me about what Christmas Eve means to you, Dean," Kitty asked smoothly from across the worn wooden table. The candlelight framed her delicate features perfectly as she fixed a sultry, half-lidded gaze upon him. Dean gave a slow smile, looking away from her as she kept her eyes sharply focused.
Eventually, he sighed and leaned over, closer to the candle, and fixed her with his own stare.
"Christmas Eve wasn't celebrated when I grew up. Christmas Eve just meant the day before the good stuff came," he explained, inflecting his voice to indicate that he wasn't really talking about his attitude on Christmas Eve. Kitty bit her lip and squinted her eyes playfully.
"Mm, that must've been tough," she said with mock sympathy. She watched her man's eyes widen comically, his head nod in exaggerated agreement. He leaned back and took an easy sip from his beer, enjoying the double entendre.
"I wonder," Kitty sighed, quirking her lips into a small smile, "If maybe I could help make this Christmas Eve special…"
Dean laughed and Kitty tried not to blush.
"I don't know," Dean replied doubtfully, then looked up with a suggestive gleam in his eyes. Kitty gave a quick smile then suddenly looked down at the table, tilting her head to the side, genuinely thinking deeply.
"What?" Dean asked, cocking his head, smirking.
He liked Kitty; she was spontaneous, fun, and determined. He'd noticed a streak of intensity – passion - in her that was entirely unlike anyone else he'd ever met. It suited her well though: made her more mysterious, as she could occasionally behave aloof then suddenly severe in an instant. Of the past few dates he'd gone on with her (each session in bed more amazing than the last), her attitude shifts would drive him mad. He liked it though; kept him on his toes.
So as he studied her as she studied the table, he was intrigued by her hesitancy; he'd never really seen this side of her before.
Kitty traced the lines of the table with her well-manicured nails, waiting for the right moment.
"Kitty?" Dean prompted again, serious this time.
Kitty looked up with wide eyes, doing her best to convey the adoration she felt for this man.
"From what you tell me, you and your brother only ever spent Christmas together?" She asked, sounding entirely sensitive and completely interested - even almost dependent upon his response.
Dean winced for a second, not entirely appreciative that she'd brought up Sam. It always killed the mood for sex, honestly, and Dean thought they'd had a good thing going not two seconds ago. He leaned back, trying to hide his disappointment, and looked into Kitty's well-meaning and open eyes. He fought hard not to roll his and sighed, giving in to Kitty's need to hear a little bit more of his story. A lot of women did this, he knew, and most of the time he just made up names and siblings and parents; created alternate realities where he grew up on a farm or in an inner city school or something.
Unfortunately, Kitty had met the two of them when they'd first arrived in town. They had only just stopped for one night - passing through - and figured they'd had no need to hide their identities. That is, until Sam found a case and asked to stick around for awhile. Kitty, their waitress on the first night, was more than pleased to keep their little secret.
Sam, Kitty knew, was skeptical of her promise to keep their true identities a secret. She knew Sam thought she was a liability but Dean vouched for her. She could just sense that Dean had dismissed how threatened Sam felt by her presence. Dean and Kitty were on the same wavelength like that. Sam should've sensed it.
He hadn't though.
Dean, still contemplating his words about how he and Sam always celebrated Christmas together, decided on relative disclosure.
"No, I mean, our Dad was there a lot. But a lot of the times he wasn't, so yeah it was mostly just Sam and I," Dean replied casually, overdoing the, 'it's-no-big-deal,' angle. Kitty seemed to take it hook, line and sinker.
"That must've been kind of hard," she pressed as she took a sip of wine. The candlelight in the center of the table flickered uneasily, the atmosphere tense for some reason. Dean tried to dispel the feeling, looking away and shrugging.
"I always had a good time," he offered.
"-But Sam didn't?" Kitty asked quickly. Almost too quickly, and Kitty inwardly chided herself for that. She was going for an organic conversation, not a cross-examination. Dean didn't seem to notice the slip-up as he stared into space beyond Kitty's shoulder.
"Dean?" She asked softly.
Dean ticked his head and leaned forward, squinting in genuine thought as he began to answer her.
"No he liked Christmas. But… There was always a lot left to be desired, you know? Like our Christmases still weren't really up to snuff compared to others'..."
It occurred to Dean just then that he'd gone back on his decision for relative disclosure in favor of full disclosure. It felt good, though: he was relaxed, Kitty's interest made it easy to talk.
"So, Sam tended to expect too much, huh?" Kitty led Dean, understanding in her voice.
"Eh," Dean cocked his head to the side, "I guess you could say that. Definitely beyond our family's means, at least, I think," Dean acknowledged, taking a sip of his beer. "Whatever that's worth," he added, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.
Kitty leaned back against her seat, understanding that Dean had just closed the conversation in favor of getting back to their flirtations.
But she wasn't through with him.
She pursed her lips and looked off, angling her body away from the table; away from Dean's raised eyebrows.
"Dean-" she said wistfully, still looking away from him.
"Dean, I want to tell you something, - and you have to promise not to freak out," she added quickly, turning fast to look at him straight in the eye.
Struck by her unblinking gaze, Dean frowned and leaned back away from her, confused.
"Yeah, what?" He asked, shaking his head in annoyance.
"Dean, I think Sam still expects too much from you."
Dean's face screwed into indignant annoyance and he opened his arms out to her.
"What the hell? Kitty, c'mon," he tried to pull her back to where they had been a few minutes ago.
What happened to flirting? What about conversations that could lead them to the bedroom?
"No, Dean, seriously. Hear me out, okay? Just listen," Kitty insisted. "That's all I want you to do. I just want you to listen to me for a sec," she repeated, trying to get Dean to chill out. Dean licked his lips, looked around and tried to shake off his discomfort. He crossed his arms and squinted his eyes with skepticism. The jury was still out: maybe after, "listening," to her, they could get down to business.
"If I listen to you, will you drop this for the night?" He asked seriously, hoping this wouldn't turn into a weird psychotherapy night with, 'Dr. Kitty, the waitress.'
"Yes. Promise. Cross my heart," Kitty added. Again, she regretted that line almost immediately: too juvenile. Luckily Dean didn't seem to notice. She exhaled slowly, gathering her confidence, and looked up to Dean with conviction.
"Dean, Sam came to visit me earlier today. To talk to me. About you," she said softly, as though she was breaking a terrible truth to him.
Dean's brows furrowed with confusion. Sam had been doing house calls to potential victims. Had Kitty been on the list?
Shit, Dean thought, Kathryn Higgins. Kitty was Kathryn Higgins: Kitty H. on her name tag at the diner. Sam must've been surprised when Kitty had opened the door. That begged the question though: why hadn't Sam called him afterwards to tell him he was banging a potential victim? Would've been nice to know, Sam, Dean thought, douche.
Dean sighed slowly, rolling his eyes that he'd have to field Kitty's questions about why his little brother's such a stalker for having found her home.
"Dean! Are you listening to me?" Kitty asked.
"Yes, yeah. Sorry. Go on," he replied, gesturing to her to continue.
"Okay. Sam came over to talk to me about you and-"
Dean tilted his head.
"About me? What?"
Kitty stopped and seemed to deflate as she looked at her man's expectant, innocent, gorgeous green eyes.
"Dean, before I continue, I just want you to know that Sam and I... care about you."
"What?" Dean asked, baffled. Kitty gave him a small, pitying smile.
"Dean, Sam and I came to a mutual agreement. For your sake," she said slowly. Dean grimaced and shook his head.
"Kitty. What the hell are you talking about?" He asked bluntly, getting finicky, wondering where this was going. Something about the way Kitty was acting was setting alarm bells off in the back of his mind. Kitty nodded though and pointed to Dean.
"No, right, no, I know. This is really hard to say and I'm doing it really badly right now," she admitted guiltily, causing Dean to notch his anxiety into a low-grade panic.
"Kitty, what did you and Sam decide exactly?" He asked accusingly as he furtively pulled his cell phone out of his back pocket.
"We decided that Sam was holding on to too many expectations for you Dean. I-I-I'm trying to use your words here-!" Kitty stuttered and spoke faster and louder in a desperate bid to hold onto Dean's trust, "We discussed it! Together! And we decided that there was only one thing to do. Only one thing – to get you to start living your life, Dean!" Kitty's voice was strained with emotion and she had teared up - the profundity of this statement just so heartwrenchingly honest. Kitty was on the precipice of the greatest, most life-defining moment of her and Dean's entire lives.
Dean just stared at her through it all, his jaw falling further and further to the floor so to speak.
He's getting it! Kitty thought. He's realizing how important - how monumental - this moment is!
Writer's Note: Thank you for reading! Please comment/review if you can spare the time! ~ Alex