(The characters are not ours, we're just playing with them
(Co-written with Catscorner)
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He had to be the best brother ever, leaving the motel room just so Sam could have some privacy. Well, Sammy hadn’t exactly asked him to leave, and he might just have begged him to stay, but that was because little brother didn’t know a good thing when it happened. The pretty librarian who was going to bring books over wasn’t half bad. She’d been looking at Sam like he was candy, and her body language couldn’t have been clearer by the way she’d been touching him at every opportunity. Maybe she’d give his brother the type of action he needed while he had the motel room to himself... Dean could only hope.
Which was why he was out on the streets of Los Angeles checking out stories of disappearances, regular people gone bad, and sticky flesh-like goo was found near the crime scenes. There had been six disappearances in this alley or nearby, in just the span of a year. The locals were calling it Death Alley, and idiots... like the one he could hear walking toward him right now ... still came. He pressed his back against the door.
From the sound of the heels striking the concrete, it had to be a woman. Dean felt the urge to jump out and scare the freakin’ daylights out of her so she’d never go to dark places like this again, but it would be no use. There would be another, and another. He’d best wait and hope the shifter... if that's what it was... showed, so he could get rid of it and idiots could safely roam the alleys again. Then again... who was to say she
wasn't the shifter?
Cordy folded her arms across her chest with her hands tucked away like she was cold – and she was
cold dressed like she was ready to go clubbing in a midriff halter and short skirt – but it also gave her a way to easily conceal the taser… just in case. Why did she always have to be bait? She hated being bait.
As the footsteps got closer, Dean leaned forward to take a quick look. Damn...did all L.A. hookers look like that? Maybe he needed to rethink his policy on not paying for sex. Nah... Still, it didn't hurt to check out the sleek lines of her long legs and wish that mini were just a little bit higher.
In the distance, he saw a large figure walk into the alley. Great, there went any idea of fantasizing. Immediately, he pulled his gun from his waistband and quietly cocked it.
Catching movement out of the corner of her eye, Cordy tensed and turned toward the figure. He appeared human, but she knew better. As he got closer, she recognized his features from the missing person’s report – the shapeshifter’s latest victim. Despite knowing Angel was right there in the shadows ready to take him out as soon as he was in position, Cordy couldn’t help feeling on edge.
“Oh hey!” she called out, trying to sound relieved as she took one step toward the shapeshifter. “I think I’m lost… do you know where Club Blue is?”
Looking down from the rooftop, Angel promised himself he was going to have an argument with Cordelia, one that he would win. He’d asked her to play bait, but not up close and personal. The scent of the monster was thick in the air. There was no question, that was him.
Waiting for just the right moment, Angel morphed and dropped down, knocking the shapeshifter away from Cordy. The thing got up, turned to punch him, and then there was a noise from behind them.
“Gotcha, you sonovabitch.” Holding the gun straight out, Dean walked towards the vampire and shot. The silver bullet meant for a shapeshifter would not kill it, but it would get it away from the woman and the man it was attacking, and then Dean could pump enough bullets through its throat to sever its head or get his knife. Either way, that thing was dead.
Startled by the deafening blast so close to her ear, Cordy let out a shriek as Angel’s shoulder jerked back. The vampire faltered and both their gazes dropped to the smoking bullet hole in his duster. In that same split second, the shapeshifter saw he was outnumbered and bolted. “Go!” she shouted to Angel as she reeled around to face the gun wielding moron.
Dean cursed. She was rooting for the bad guy, never mind that it had shown her its butt ugly face. This time, he aimed more carefully for the vampire's head, and started to squeeze the trigger.
Cordy’s eyes popped wide. “No!” she lunged forward, knocking him off balance and taking them both to the ground as his shot went off into the air. Fortunately the guy broke her fall and she scrambled to straddle him, pressing the taser to his chest ready to zap him. Her eyes locked on his and she sucked in a sharp breath at the intensity of his gaze. “What the hell do you think you’re doing, you idiot!” Her heart raced with the surge of adrenaline. “Drop the gun.”
What the... "Look, sweetheart, I know I'm damn tempting, but this isn't the time for a roll." Before he finished speaking, he had her wrist in his grasp, away from his body, and was pushing her off. He didn't mean to shove her to the ground, but she was tenacious, holding onto him like she was saving that damned vampire. "Fuck..." he found himself sprawled on top of her. His gun was tossed a few feet away, dangerously pointed toward them.
"You saw that thing," he shouted, "I don't want to hurt you, but you're making it damned hard." Suspicion flared in her eyes and he realized he had her pinned to the ground, with his knee between her legs. "I'm not trying anything. Stop trying to hang on to me, and I'm outta here."
is the good guy,” Cordy ground out impatiently, still arching her back and squirming beneath him. Turning her head, she saw that he held her wrists in such a way that he was deliberately taking the brunt of the road rash as she struggled to get his gun. She dragged her gaze up his muscular arm to his chest and finally tilted her head back to look at him – again struck by the sheer intensity of those dazzling green eyes. Sucking in a breath, their eyes locked and she stilled.
"You done?" he asked, feeling her relax slightly, and slowly releasing his grip in return. "That thing killed six other people right here in this alley. Now it's free to hunt again. Don't ever come back here."
Right. He was supposed to be scaring her, not checking out the package. Hell... he'd have to be dead not to notice the rise and fall of her chest, and how soft her skin looked, and that hair... all that hair cascading around her shoulders.
Cordy pursed her lips and tried to rein in the wild hammering of her heart. “Are you dense?” she started to lever upright, allowing him to help her to her feet, though neither of them stepped out of each other’s space as they did so. “You shot Angel and let the bad guy get away,” she leveled him with an scrutinizing look. “What are you? Undercover cop? ‘Cause let me tell you,” she poked him in the chest. “You are way out of your league here.”
Dean looked down at her finger, then back up at her. "Cop? Now you’re insulting me?” Shit. She was the one out of her league and didn’t know it. “Look that guy you called Angel... he's no Angel. That thing's a vampire. I know you don't believe me, but think about how he looked." It was beyond him, why he was explaining things to her when she obviously wasn't going to listen. "Come on, let me walk you out of here. There must be somewhere safer where you can pick up... do your job."
Vampires. Okay, still a moron, but at least he was a supernaturally savvy moron. “Look I was trying
to do my job until you came along and spooked him,” Cordy started before she realized what he was insinuating. “Wait. What? Pick up what
?!” Hazel eyes blazed. “Are you implying I’m a hooker?”
Maybe his eyes didn't have to sweep up and down her body quite as obviously as they did. "Hey..." he put his hands out to the side, "don't have to be a rocket scientist. It's cool, just don't do it here."
Her jaw set in a hard line and in a blur of movement she slapped him, the crack of the impact amplified by the narrow alley. “Next time use your head before you put your foot in your mouth, asshole,” she spun on her stilettos and marched deeper into the alley in the direction Angel went. “Things aren’t always what they seem.”
He put his hand on his stinging cheek. "Thanks for saving my ass, you're a real hero." he muttered in a high voice, then answered in his normally deeper one. "No problem."
Since his conscience, also known as Sam, wasn't around, he let her have her way and didn't force her to leave. Not like he'd be around to be her guardian angel tomorrow or the next day.
* * * * *
The living room was dark, lit up only by a few small lamps. The shutters were closed tight, no one could see inside. Dean kicked at the broken furniture littering the ground, and then shoved a chair into the center of the room. “Now sit your ass down,” he snarled, his eyes dark and dangerous as he leaned in toward the blond. Already, the corner of her mouth was bleeding. “We can do this the easy way or the—”
“Come on, you’re not really going to hurt a kid, are you?” The slender teen gave an innocent smile. “You know it hurts—“
The last strand of Dean’s patience snapped. He lit into her, fists flying, threatening to beat her into unconsciousness if he had to.
Stuck in the narrow confines of the devil’s trap painted on the ceiling, she didn’t have much room to fight him. Everything in the room started to rattle, the pictures, the furniture, the broken chandelier.
“Sit down, bitch!” he pressed his knee into her chest, landed another right hook to her jaw, and started to tie her hand to the arm of the chair.
As Cordy lifted her hand to knock on the front door, the porch started to shake and she braced herself. She’d come expecting to collect information on a report of a possession at the house, but obviously there was something going down. Pulling out her holy water and cross, she charged through the front door and it slammed ominously behind her.
Hearing the door shut, Dean spoke through gritted teeth. "'Bout time. Give me a hand here." As the blonde tried to bite him, he head-butted her, cursing at the pain he caused himself in the process.
Skidding to a stop on the hardwood floor, Cordy took in the brutal scene playing out before her and acted on instinct, charging forward she picked up a chair and brought it down hard on the guy that was beating the hell out of a girl he was binding to a chair.
“Get off her you sick bastard!” she shouted, ready to crack him again if he came at her. When he came back up, she saw his face. “You Again!”
The legs of the chair broke off around him as he twisted around, "Son of a bitch. You!" One hand firmly forcing the demon's face back, he leaned down and picked up another length of rope. "What is it with you and saving the fucking bad guy? Put that thing down." He couldn't afford to let the demon go and have to start over, so he bent down, catching one end of the rope in his teeth while he used his free hand to tie the rope around the blonde's forearm.
At the sight of the woman’s jet black eyes, Cordy slowly lowered the chair leg turned club and reset her preconception of what was going on. “Do you have any idea what you’re dealing with? Don’t hurt her!” she snapped angrily. “She’s possessed. Once she’s exorcised, she’ll feel every mark you put on her.”
"Don't you think I know that?" he said chewing through a mouthful of rope. Pulling back, he wiped his mouth and stepped away from the demon.
He stepped out of the circle, ignoring the demon sliding back and forth with the chair, tracing the pattern of the trap as she hurled insults at him. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, noting immediately that she wasn't wearing streetwalking clothes. And she knew a thing or two about what was going on. "Oh no... don't tell me you're trying to be a hunter..."
Cordy blew out a scoffing breath and folded her arms across her chest standing hipshot. “I’m not trying
to be anything. I help the helpless…” she looked at the crazed woman slamming against an invisible barrier before her gaze slid up to the ceiling and she saw the binding circle. Clever.
Fixing him with a look, she went on. “And for your information, that John you thought I was trying to pick up was a shapeshifter and you let him get away. Good thing my partner was able to catch him. He’s fast. You remember him… the vampire
"I think you might be having a memory lapse. I was going after that thing until you decided to roll me." Cocking his head to the side, he added, "not that a good rolling is a bad thing, but there's a time and place..."
After he'd gotten over the fact that she'd interfered with his kill, he'd often remembered how she felt on top of him, then under him. And maybe he'd wondered more than once how things could have turned out different with her thanking
him in a special way.
Dude... get a hold of yourself, he told himself. Hooker, hunter... friend of vampires... it was too 'out there' even for him.
“You shot my boss!” Despite her annoyance, her lips quirked into a slight smirk at the memory of their tumble in the ally. “And
you called me a hooker.”
"You called me an idiot." He shrugged, turning slightly to see what the demon was doing. The girl's eyes were rolled back in her head and Latin words were spewing from her lips. The chair was starting to move faster.
Dean looked up and saw the plaster was cracking off the ceiling, and with it, his markings. "Dammit, where the hell is he?" He ran his hand over his forehead, "wouldn't happen to have holy water..."
Cordy’s attention snapped to the demon and she produced a vial of holy water and spotted an occult book open to an exorcism passage. “Here, you anoint her, I’ll exorcise her…” she handed him the vial and snatched up the book.
"You know how..." It wasn't as if he had any choice. He started to walk around the girl, sloshing holy water over her as he taunted the demon. "Only one way this is ending... with you out of her. Might as well make it easy on yourself."
Throwing her head back, the girl screamed as the holy water rose like steam off her skin. Her eyes grew black again. "Got yourself a new partner in crime? Practicing for when he's
"Shut up," he backhanded her, and started to join Cordy in the chant
Even focused on getting the Latin right, Cordy noticed the visceral reaction Dean had to the demon’s taunts and she couldn’t help but wonder what she meant. Practicing for what? Who was his partner?
She held the book out so he could see the page as she flipped it, but the moment he turned his back the woman in the chair broke free of the bonds and caught a large bowie knife that flew through the air toward her.
Reacting on pure instinct, Cordy shoved Dean out of the circle as the possessed woman lunged at him. The momentum of the shove carried Cordy tumbling top of the hunter and as they rolled out of the way, blood seeped up from a gash where the blade caught her shoulder.
Dean had seen the glint from his knife as it flew past toward the demon, but by the time he twisted around, Cordy had placed herself between it and the demon intent on skewering him. His surprised protest at her action was unintelligible because his breath was knocked out of him, and he held her tight and made sure both of them were completely out of the devil’s trap.
Scrambling up, he saw the brunet’s bloodied shoulder and met her gaze. "Why?"
Just like that, time sped up again, and he left her. The blonde still held onto his knife, but he was so sick of this shit, he didn't care. Avoiding its sharp edge twice, he knocked her out with a right hook and shoved her ass back in the chair.
While she was slumped over, he picked the book up and started reading the Latin words, faster and faster...
From the floor, Cordy snatched the fallen flask of holy water and flung its remaining contents on the woman. She was rewarded the hiss of the demon burning from the inside out. As Dean continued the chant the brunette scrambled back up as the slumped body started to shake. And then there it was... black smoke rushing out of the girl's mouth.
It was only after the woman slumped again and the house abruptly stopped quaking around them that Cordy felt the sting of the wound. Wincing, she twisted her neck to look at her shoulder blade and paled at sight of blood blossoming through her white shirt.
“Dean!” Sam skidded to a stop behind his brother. “What the hell happened?”
"You mean while you were taking a city tour," Dean groused, stepping immediately to Cordy. "And no, I didn't do it... she walked in front of the..." he couldn't even say it, that she'd saved his life by putting her own at risk. That never happened. Not ever for as long as Dean could remember, not counting his brother and his dad.
"That was a really stupid thing to do," he said gruffly, in contrast with the gentleness of his touch as he tried to pull her shirt to the side to take a look at her wound.
"Dean, she gonna be..."
Dean merely pointed at the blonde, and his brother went to help the girl on the chair.
Cordy let out a hiss and watched the expressions chase across Dean’s face as he looked at her shoulder blade. “Who’s that? Your partner…?” her eyes shifted to the tall guy that was dealing with the woman who was starting to come back around.
"Brother. Who took his sweet... Come on, I can get you cleaned up, even if it must hurt like a sonovabitch." Putting a protective arm around her, he started to walk her to the door, ignoring the questioning look coming from Sam.
Outside, the Impala was right where he'd left it, under a street light which would give him plenty of light to see by. He wanted to ask her 'why' again, but stealing a glance at her, remained silent.
Cordy could have refused his help… she had her car and could probably drive just fine. When she looked over at him and caught him looking at her, her pulse quickened and the breath she was taking caught in her throat. No need to get blood on her upholstery, she decided, allowing him to lead her over to a black muscle car.
“So you guys are hunters…?”
"I'd say it takes one to know one, only you don't fit the profile." Hell, he didn't know what profile she fit. One minute she looked like the happy hooker, the next she had business casual down... except for the blood. But one thing he couldn't possibly miss was that she was a helluva looker and a smart ass who could compete with the best.
Opening the back door, he had her sit down and wait while he got the first aid kit from the trunk. When he got back, she was sitting with her legs outside the car, waiting for him, but still had her shirt on.
He cleared his throat. "Gonna have to take that off," he cocked his head and reached for her button. "But don't worry, I do this all the time."
“I just bet you do!” A sudden rush of heat ignited with his touch, flaring out from her core a sending an explosive flush across her features as she reflexively batted his had away. Stabbing him with a fiery look, she pulled her legs into the car and slid along the seat, turning her back to him as she unbuttoned her blouse and shrugged it off her shoulder. Through the dim light of the car’s interior, she turned her head to steal a glance at him as he slid in behind her.
He chuckled and didn't bother to hide the fact he was enjoying the view. Hell, she'd been wearing a lot less the time he'd met her in the alley. Course that lead to thoughts of all the body contact that took place when they were fighting over who was right. How many times had he thought of those moments later on? Like when he was in the shower, or bored sitting in the car and waiting on something to happen. Just like that, it seemed to get about ten degrees hotter.
Wiping the smile off his face, he swallowed and touched her shoulder. It was so smooth and satiny under his touch, he knew he shouldn't be enjoying this. "This will hurt a bit. You're not gonna try anything?" His eyes asked a different question.
Looking over her shoulder, her eyes fixed on his and neither broke the gaze. She supposed it was a fair question seeing as how she’d now tackled him to the ground not once, but twice. “No promises, but I’ll be gentle,” she smirked. “Dean, right?” she recalled the name his brother had used.
"Dean... right." He started cleaning the wound, using a much lighter hand than he would on himself of Sam. "And you are? I’m thinkin’ sweetheart
won’t cut it anymore.”
She let out a disgruntled ‘humph’ before sucking in a sharp breath as pain seared across the flesh wound. “Well my hooker name is Cookie,” she drawled sarcastically, still looking at him out of the corner of her eye. “But you can call me Cordelia.”
"Cookie, huh. I was thinking more along the lines of Candy." He'd called her a lot of names each time he'd thought of her, but neither of those were anywhere close. "Cordelia... kind of long, you got a short one?" His palms brushed along her warm skin as he started to smooth some tape over her wound. His mouth ached to follow the trail of his hands. Bet she tasted real good.
An involuntary shiver ran down her spine and she turned to face forward as her eyes dropped closed. Why was it suddenly so hard to breathe? Leaning back into his impossibly gentle touch she bit her lower lip.
“Cordy,” she managed to answer between increasingly difficult breaths.
Cordy. That was a much better name to shout out in the middle of sex. And he really shouldn't be thinkin' that. Or sealing the band aid with a kiss either. Then again, he did a lot of things he shouldn't.
When she didn't pull away, he put his hands on her shoulders and slowly kissed his way up her back, lingering at the side of her neck, before whispering in her ear. "I'm finished." Finished... hell, his body was on fire and he hadn't even got started.
She should have pulled away the moment she felt hot lips on her back, but instead her head lolled to the side sending her hair tumbling over her bare shoulder as she turned into his touch. “I should go then,” she answered breathily, her eyelids heavy with the sudden, inexplicable desire to kiss him.
"Yeah, you probably should go." There was clean up to do, and another girl to take care of and... as she started to slightly turn around he forgot everything else. Need was slamming into him full force and one kiss couldn't hurt. Leaning in over her shoulder, he slanted his mouth across hers. The instant she opened for him, he knew one kiss would never be enough. She tasted so damn good, felt so damn good, like fire and silk moving against his tongue.
He took her breath away and she reclaimed it again and again as their mouths melded together in a fervent battle to devour one another. She wasn’t sure when she twisted around in the seat to climb into his lap, but their lips never parted. Her hands moved to frame his jaw as she kissed him, her blouse still open in the front and fallen off her shoulders.
His hand moved restlessly up and down her waist and ribs, exploring, needing, pulling her tight against him as he buried his other hand in her hair and concentrated on kissing her. Did she realize her squirming was making his skin grow hotter? That thoughts of pushing her down on the back seat were making his body rage and his breaths come out ragged?
Every touch wound her tighter and she felt her control starting to fray. It wasn’t until she felt the graze of his fingers against her pebbled nipple that she snapped free from the euphoric haze. Pulling back abruptly, she shrugged the blouse back over her shoulders and jerked it closed, suddenly feeling every bit like the whore he’d originally mistaken her for. Scrambling from his lap, she barely noticed the stabbing pain of her shoulder over the throbbing ache of need that pounded through her core.
“Oh God. I gotta go,” she muttered incoherently as she practically fell into the side of the door and fumbled for the handle. Somehow she managed to launch herself outside, taking great gulps of air as she bolted for her car.
"No problem, leave me here like this," he muttered to the empty air. "Oh God, I think I'm gonna die..." He caught her license plate number as she drove past looking straight ahead, then leaned his head back against the seat and took a deep breath.
(A/N: We are taking this pairing out for a test run and are not sure we've hit our stride yet. Please let us know what you think.)