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Kitten

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Summary: Dean caught a certain someone's eye. Too bad for him. (20 Minutes w/Dru)

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Drusilla-Centered(Site Founder)JinniFR1522,783183,2936 Jan 0717 Feb 07Yes

Like a Cat With the Cream

Title: Like a Cat With Cream
Author: jinni (jinni.tth@gmail.com)
Rated: Pg13
Disclaimer: All things BtVS belong to Joss Whedon, et al. All things SPN belong to Eric Kripke, et al.
Characters: Dean, Drusilla
Notes: Sequel to “Kitten”: http://www.tthfanfic.org/Story-11393/Jinni+Kitten.htm

~*~*~

The room was dark as fuck all, but that was nothing new. Dean sighed as he opened his eyes, clawing his way back to consciousness. How many days had it been since that loony toon of a vampire had gotten her claws into him? And not just figuratively. No, the nail marks on his goddamned chest attested to the fact that the crazy bitch liked to scratch.

She also liked to bite. Hard. With sharp teeth. Dean liked a little kink from his girls as much as the next guy – okay, maybe a little more than the next guy – but bloodplay? Totally uncool.

Not to mention it left him feeling weaker than a kitten. Of course those would be the times when she untied him so that he could have something to eat. Only then, after she’d finished drinking from him like he was a fucking juice box and she was a toddler dying of thirst, did she give him those blessed few minutes free of the chair and ropes that had been him home for days.

Heh. Dying of thirst. Chick like her was already dead. Damn it. She was worse than that zombie bitch he and Sammy had come across that one time. Why couldn’t this nutjob have been a nice vampire like Lenore had been?

And, yeah, he so wasn’t going to analyze at what point he’d started thinking of any undead bloodsucker as nice, but there it was.

Dru was something else. He knew she was a vampire by the way she acted, but damn if she was like any of the ones he’d met before. Her whole face changed sometimes. Wrinkled up like she was an extra on Star Trek. It was like there were different races of vampires.

The whole vampire thing was getting less and less funny by the day.

Dean swallowed, trying to work some spit into his too-dry mouth, and felt the soreness on the left side of his neck. He didn’t need a mirror to know that the place where she’d bitten him was red and angry, covered in dried blood. If he didn’t walk out of here with an infection because of it, he’d be pretty damn amazed.

He pulled against the ropes. A really futile gesture, as he had already found out more than once, but one he was going to keep doing anyway. Somewhere Sammy was worrying about him, probably getting into trouble without him, and Dean had to get free because leaving Sammy on his own for very long just wasn’t a good idea. Not with the demon out there, ramping up whatever he had in store for the ‘special kids.’

His brother needed him alive and well, watching his back and – Dean swallowed tightly – making sure that he didn’t go over the edge into that darkness that Dad had been worried about. No way in hell was that going to happen if he had something to say about it.

Which, okay, he didn’t have much of a say in anything right now.

The door clicked open with a creak that sounded like it was right out of a horror movie. Even facing the door, he couldn’t see who was there. The room was just too dark. Vampires didn’t need much light to see with. Definitely less than Dean needed, and that was even after days of being shut in.

Suddenly she was close enough that he could see her through the darkness. It helped that there was a little smidge of light coming from the door. No, not even light. Just a lighter shade of dark. He kept his face blank as he watched her. Dru. Mommy. Mistress. Lady. Whatever the fuck she wanted to be called today. With thoughts of Sam so fresh in his mind, he was willing to call her just about anything if it meant she might let him go long enough for him to attempt an escape.

She was humming softly, something he’d found out she normally did. It was like she was listening to music that no one else could hear. It didn’t seem to have a good beat and definitely wasn’t metal of any kind, though, so Dean didn’t feel too left out. Half-tempted to start humming some AC/DC just to throw her off, he kept his mouth shut instead. Pissing off the vampire wasn’t a good idea, hadn’t he already decided that?

She stopped humming and cocked her head to the side, looking at him like a puppy would a toy. Or a tiger. A sleepy smile curled her lips, and she asked quietly, “Did you miss Mummy?”

Like he’d miss a fucking hole in the head. “Yeah,” he rasped instead, suppressing his natural urge to be a smartass. “Yeah, baby, I missed you.”

Play nice. Convince her to let you up out of the chair and then find some way to stake the bitch. Maybe if he played his cards right she’d think she’d broken his spirit enough to get whatever the fuck it was that she wanted from him.

She seemed pleased by his response if by pleased Dean meant that she felt cuddly enough to get up close and personal by straddling his lap. Fuck. Was she going to feed off of him again? It didn’t seem like nearly enough time had passed since the last time she’d latched onto his neck like an overzealous leech.

Instead of biting him, she cooed and flashed a bottle of water in his face, unscrewing the cap and tossing it off into the darkest corners of the room. It bounced and rolled with little clicks before coming to a stop.

“Drink, pet,” she murmured, the nails of her free hand scratching lightly at his cheek as she held the water bottle to his lips.

Damn, it tasted like the best thing ever. Sweet, cool, and crisp the way that water could be only when you were damn thirsty. He drank in long, greedy swallows, desperate to get as much of it as possible before she pulled it away. Drinking so much so quickly might damn well make him sick, but he couldn’t stop himself. Didn’t want to. His stomach gurgled noisily, reminding him that it had been at least half a day since he’d eaten anything, maybe longer.

“Is kitten’s tummy all rumbly?” she purred, tongue flicking out and over his cheek so quick that Dean gasped. The water in his mouth went down the wrong way and he coughed, choked. She pulled the bottle away as water dribbled over his chin, and Dean watched it go, wondering if he was looking at it as longingly as he it felt like he was. She tilted, placing it next to the chair.

“Don’t fret,” she whispered, voice sing-song light. She sounded like a little girl. “Mummy’s going to make things all better. You want that, right? To dance with Mummy? Under the singing stars, through the blood.”

He didn’t know about dancing in blood, but dancing itself meant that he wasn’t strapped down to a chair.

“Ye-“ Dean tried, throat locking up. He cleared it and flashed her his best fuck me smile. “Yeah, darlin’. Dancing sounds good.” The words tasted foul on his tongue, like a mouth of fuzz after a day-long drunken bender.

“Look in my eyes, kitten. Look.”

Her hand was under his chin, forcing him to look up and into her eyes. Black pools, endless night. He was drowning, going under, clawing for air, caught up in the riptide unable to pull himself away even when her face rippled and changed, fangs sliding out.

“Wh-what about dancing?” he managed, tongue thick in his mouth. It felt like he was fighting to talk through a layer of cotton or something. In his brain.

Tongue flickering over her teeth and lip, eyes yellow and hungry, and now Dean was starting to feel that panic that he knew he should’ve been feeling anyway. Had she hypnotized him or something? Fuck. Crazy vampire bitch had all kinds of powers. He shut his eyes. If she was going to feed off of him again, then whatever. It wasn’t like he could stop it. Apparently playing along with her game wasn’t the way to win her trust anymore than anything else was.

He was so screwed.

“Get off him.”

Okay, maybe not that screwed.

“Sammy?” he croaked, eyes opening. The room was a little brighter now. Someone near the doorway had a flashlight. How the hell Sam had snuck up on Dru without her hearing him, Dean didn’t really know.

Nor did he fucking care.

A shotgun cocked, tchk-tchk. The sweetest sound Dean thought he’d ever heard, right up there with his brother’s voice.

Then a second voice that Dean didn’t recognize. “Dru. Move away from him.”

On his lap, Dru growled, eyes flashing dangerously. Well, more dangerously. Her head whipped around, and she was up and moving in a flash, to the doorway and the second of the two shadows that stood there, hissing something under her breath that sounded like Daddy and bad.

“I’ve got her, Sam. Get your brother and get out of here.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. He was by Dean’s side in seconds, knife in hand, sawing at the thick ropes that bound him to the chair. Dean felt the tension and pop as the one around his wrists gave way. The muscles in his shoulders burned as he brought his arms around, rubbing with his hands at first one wrist, then the other. They were chafed and raw. He could feel the indent in his skin where the rope had pressed for days.

When the rope around his ankles went loose, he immediately tried to stand up. It was only Sam’s grip on his arm, and then helping shoulder, that kept him from falling over.

“Where’d crazy and your friend go?”

Sam snorted. “He’s not really my friend. More like…backup. A friend of a contact that one of Dad’s contacts had. He,” Sam paused, adjusting his grip on Dean as they started towards the door. He didn’t like admitting he was weak, but obviously he wasn’t getting out of here without help.

“He what, Sam?” Dean asked. The boards of the floor squeaked as they made it to the hallway. Dru and Sam’s backup were nowhere in sight. Fine by him. The only way he ever wanted to see that chick again was if he was putting a machete to her throat and slicing her open like the monster she was.

“He made her, Dean.”

“He was a vampire?” Dean yelled, pushing away from Sam. Thank God there was a wall right behind him to lean into, otherwise he would have looked damn stupid when he fell on his ass. “You trusted a vampire again? The vampire that made that whackjob, for that matter? For all we know him and her are off somewhere planning on how to have a Sam-and-Dean dinner.”

Sam snorted and shook his head. “He’s one of the good guys. Remember Lenore’s no-human diet? Well, that’s pretty much Angel’s rule of thumb, too. Oh! And he’s a different kind of vampire. Different species or something.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Dean said dryly. Sam really was a geek when it came to this stuff. He took the arm his brother held out to him, wincing as he put his weight fully on his legs again. It would be at least a few days before he was back in good enough condition to sit comfortably in the Impala for any good length of time. Meant they’d be holing up and laying low.

For the first time, rest and relaxation didn’t sound so bad.

But if that bitch tried to come after him again, she was going to find out that her kitten had claws.

END

The End

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