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Set my soul on fire

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Summary: Faith Lehane and Dean Winchester wake up in Las Vegas and discover they got married in the Elvis Presley Chapel of Love.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Supernatural > Faith-Centered > Pairing: Dean Winchester(Past Donor)KiwikatipoFR181133,27373218,73131 Jul 0624 Aug 06Yes

I wouldn’t sleep a minute away

Disclaimer the characters from Supernatural and BTVS do not belong to me they belong to the great Joss Whedon and Erik Kripke.

Set my soul on fire

May 25th 2004

Faith sat on the toilet crying yet again. Her stomach muscles hurt from having thrown up earlier, but it was her heart that was hurting the most. She couldn’t believe Wesley and Angel were dead. That two of the men she had cared about the most, weren’t on the planet anymore. It was too bad. Oh Angel. Faith grabbed the roll of toilet paper and blew her nose.

Faith put her diaphragm back in its case and dusted talcum powder on it. Thank god she’d put it in.

Faith went back into the hotel room and crawled back into bed. Her hands were shaking with alcohol dehydration. Who was this guy in her bed again? She was fucked if she could remember. They had obviously screwed earlier in the evening. Faith crawled back under the covers. God she was cold. She snuggled up beside him.

Jesus, the guy was like a shaking ice-block. He wasn’t? She hadn’t? Oh no, she hadn’t screwed a vampire, not tonight. How would she explain a pile of dust on the hotel sheets for a start?

Faith grabbed her purse and searched through it in the dark, aha. Turning on the night light, she thrust her make up mirror in front of the guys face. He was turning pale blue, she noted.

Dean’s eyes flickered open at the light, woozily. Why was there a shaking compact mirror, being held over his face? Dean wondered. He shut his eyes, so he didn’t have to look at his reflection in the mirror. How strange he was blue. God he felt bad. Dean passed out.

Faith took the mirror away. Not a vampire thank god. But the guy was as cold as ice to the touch and turning pale blue. Holy shit, Faith realized in panic. The guy had alcohol poisoning induced hypothermia. He had just stopped breathing! Faith knelt over him and started doing CPR. She had always known that the first aid class she had attended in prison would come in handy one day.

Dean started to breathe shallowly again. Thank you Baby Jesus! Faith lifted him up carefully and carried him to the bathroom. Dean was placed in the shower stall, he needed to be warm. This was the quickest way Faith could think of to do it.

Faith knelt in the shower stall beside the strange guy, getting seriously worried. He was about six foot tall and getting heavy in her arms. The shower water roared round her ears deafening her, as she held him upright against her. She was feeling like she was going to pass out herself in the steaming hot water. If this didn’t work, if he didn’t recover soon, Faith was going to have to call 911.

Which would be a total bitch, any kind of official intervention was the last thing she needed.

To her relief Dean’s colour slowly returned to pink his breathing back to normal again.

He looked up at her focusing on the world around him once more, trying to work things out. Trying to work out why he felt like a truck had run over him? Trying to work out why he was sitting in a shower naked, with a girl holding him up? Trying to work out why she had no clothes on either?

“Thanks a lot… Hope?” Dean queried embarrassed. He realized she was obviously trying to help him. The water ran down his face from the shower and he licked it thirstily. He didn’t often sit naked in showers with attractive women, feeling weak as a kitten. Did he screw her last night? He supposed they must have. Shame he couldn’t remember a thing. Total blackout.

“Faith…you’re Gene right?” Faith asked in return.

“Dean, Dean Winchester.” Dean went to automatically shake hands with her, then dropped his right hand, realizing the ridiculousness of his predicament.

He looked at her naked in front of him, hot water streaming down her body, wearing with only a large silver crucifix around her neck. He gestured to it, “You Catholic?”

“Yeah. Mass every Sunday.” Faith quipped, she touched his own pendant. “You a turtle worshiper?”

“Just a lucky charm.” Dean said of his protective amulet. He put his head back on the shower wall. “Christ, did I stop breathing back there?”

“Yeah I did CPR. You had hypothermia from booze poisoning.” Faith looked at him. “You remember?”

“No, but my ribs are hurting. You managed to drag me in here too, huh?” Dean looked at her in disbelief. She was so slender and only of medium height for a woman. “You’re strong for a chick.”

“Combination of Pilate's, good genes and steroids” Faith informed him in a humorous tone.

They sat in the shower for ten more minutes. When they started to turn into prunes, Faith judged it was safe enough to help Dean back to bed. She helped support his weight, even though he was recovering fast and walked him back to bed. Faith vigorously toweled him dry so he wouldn’t catch a chill. He had a good body Faith noted, as she rubbed his hair dry vigorously. Pity this was the only way, she was going to remember touching it this evening. Dean was surprised once more at her strength, as he lay trustingly under her ministrations. He figured she must work out a lot.

Next Faith made Dean drink copious amounts of water. “I must bring out the mom in you huh?” he joked, as he drank his third glass.

Faith laughed bitterly, “Really not.”

Dean looked at her puzzled. That looked like a no go area of conversation with her. Faith had found his t shirt and made him put it on. She had on a red cotton kimono, cuddling Dean to keep him warm. Dean was both touched and impressed by the fact she could be so nice and efficient to him at the same time.

“I liked to pretend I was a nurse as a little girl.” Faith told him shyly, resting her head on his hair. “Maybe you bring out that.”

“What do you do?” Dean asked her. “When you’re not in Vegas, giving mouth to mouth to drunks.”

Faith thought quickly. “Um I’m an independent contractor for a European Company. I… I suppose you’d say I’m in the vermin disposal trade.”

“A pest exterminator?” Said Dean in a surprised voice, “You’re so sweet, I thought you’d be a vet’s assistant or something.”

“Me sweet!” Faith laughed delighted, boy was Dean ever getting the wrong impression about her. She rubbed his shoulders briskly keeping him awake. “What about you? What do you do?”

“I work with my dad, er we freelance as well. We’re big game hunters.” Dean told her. That was kinda true. The game was just big things that went bump in the night. “I’m feeling okay. You can stop rubbing me now, nice as it is.”

“Glad to hear it, you gave me a real fright Winchester.” Faith told him, sitting back down on the bed beside him. She felt pleased with her nights endeavors. It was like having rescued a sack of kittens from drowning from a river.

“So did we…last night?” Dean looked at her uncomfortably. Dean could not think of a way, to make his question not sound insulting. ”I can’t remember sorry.”

“Yeah, we did.” A woman always knew these things. Faith acknowledged the effect the alcohol had had on her as well. “But I can’t remember it either.”

“Well hopefully it was really bad.” Dean smirked to her, getting a smile back. "And we’re not missing out not remembering.”

They sat silently on the bed, both mildly embarrassed they couldn’t think of anything to say to each other. Dean was mentally kicking himself. A hot babe like Faith and he couldn’t remember screwing her? He was a moron.

Faith was wondering if they had used condoms. Situations like this was why she always inserted her diaphragm before she went out drinking. Things like this were always happening to her. Look at the one time she had got jiggy with Woods. Poor deceased Robin Woods. Pregnant, she had got pregnant from one lousy night of pre-Apocalypse sex, and then she'd miscarried at three months. Life since she had got out of prison had not been a bed of roses for her by any means.

“Well I suppose I should go huh?” Dean said to her at last, breaking the uncomfortable silence between them. “Let you get some sleep...”

“Yeah,” smiled Faith thinly, reaching for her packet of cigarettes. “Nice meeting you.”

“Hey, seriously Faith, thanks for saving for my life,” Dean told her sincerely, hopping on one foot as he put on his boxer shorts.

“No worries man. Didn’t want to have to explain a corpse in the morning to the maids,” Faith breezed, putting a cigarette in her mouth and lighting up.

Dean was good at reading people. He noticed Faith seemed depressed now she wasn't occupied saving his life. Dean was used to girls being disappointed as he left their rooms in the early hours of the morning. But he sensed Faith didn't give a damn about him going back to his own motel. Something else was gnawing at her.

“You seem kinda low, are you alright?” Dean asked the young brunette, pausing in his dressing. “Whatever’s going on with you... making you seem sad. It’s not me leaving is it..?”

“Oh I’m just kinda down. Some friends of mine died three days ago, and I can’t shake the blues.” Faith put her head down and Dean could see tears fill her eyes.

“Hey, I can stay if you want, keep you company?” Dean suggested tentatively.

Faith looked at him and flashed him a brave smile. "That's a generous offer, but I'll be fine, don't inconvenience yourself pal. I like to wake up alone too." she sucked on her cigarette and stared at the ceiling.

Dean decided to stay. He felt like he owed her one. She didn't come across as a clingy type either.

“Faith, let me take you out to breakfast tomorrow huh?” Dean said sitting back on the bed and putting his arm around her. “As a classy goodbye. As my thank you to you for all you did for me tonight.”

Faith collapsed into hungover tears, at the concern in his tone. She felt his strong comforting arms go around her, it was so nice to have someone kind holding her. She was feeling so unhappy. Faith sobbed on Dean’s chest and felt him kissing her head, and stroking her hair.

She lay still in his arms finally and drifted off to sleep. Dean looked down on her wonderingly. Poor chick, she was so sad and seemed lonely. No wonder he had met her at some bar last night. He had been feeling sad and lonely last night too. Not a new experience for him. He didn’t think it was a new experience for her either.

Faith woke up in Dean’s arms at eight that morning. He was sucking on her neck gently. Faith grinned. “Is that how you normally wake girls up?” she asked him huskily.

Dean parted her robe and traced patterns on her breast with his fingers. “I’m not normally around when they wake up.”

Faith sat up and ran her fingers through his hair. “I’m going to brush my teeth and stuff. The hotel had a complimentary toothbrush in the soaps and shampoo platter. Feel free.”

Dean laughed amused at her directness. “Are you hinting I have morning breath?”

“Last night we both puked, I smoke. I have no illusions about my own breath.” Faith got up smiling and walked over to the bathroom. She framed herself in the doorway posing like a 1940’s Femme Fatale. “Don’t you wanna kiss me?”

In the bathroom, Faith reinserted her diaphragm, applied spermicide, went to the toilet, and considered flossing. Nah flossing was overkill. She brushed her teeth quickly and jumped back into bed.

Dean had already turned the TV on. He was watching the 80’s metal channel with the sound down.

“Hey I love this one, it’s the Dead Kennedy’s cover of “Viva Las Vegas.” said Faith, snuggling back in bed beside him, grabbing the remote and turning the volume up. “Kinda appropriate huh?”

“You are a chick with excellent musical taste.” Dean praised, surprised. He kissed her with a closed mouth on her lips swiftly. “Be right back babe.”

In the bathroom Dean sniffed under his arms, sprayed on Faith’s scentless deodorant, went to the toilet, remembered to put the seat down because females cared about that kind of thing, and brushed his teeth. He looked at Faith’s empty diaphragm container on the bathroom counter, he wondered what the hell it was for. Make up stuff probably.

Dean came out of the bathroom and dived on the bed. He winked at Faith with a sexy grin and ripped the blankets off her. A ring rolled off the bed and fell onto the floor, they both ignored it thinking it belonged to the other.

“Shit, you’re in a perky mood.” Faith smiled at him. Dean knelt upright and put one leg over either side of her waist.

“A beautiful woman is about to let me make love to her, first thing in the morning. Puts me in a perky frame of mind every time,” Dean explained, he gazed appreciatively at her naked body in front of him. “You are a fine sight baby.”

“So are you.” Faith complimented him. She sat up and kissed him, enjoying the way he was moving his hands over her body. Faith felt his erect cock press against her navel. She broke away and pulled out her purse from the side of the bed.

Dean leaned over her kissing her shoulder, watching amused as she started to pull the normal female crap out of her purse: Hairbrush, lipstick, lighter, diary, red cell phone, perfume, tissue packet, a stake, another lighter, two earrings and a ring in a plastic bag, two tampons, a nail-file.

“What’s that stake for?” Dean asked intrigued.

“Catholic youth group, I’m a volunteer, we go camping.” Faith told him. She was getting frustrated. “I can’t find a condom damn!”

“I think I have one in my wallet baby. Don’t panic.” Dean leaned over his side of the bed. Faith kissed his shoulder and looked on as Dean went through his jacket: Bar receipts, business cards, miniature prayer book, hotel room key, marriage license, condom.

Faith seized upon the condom with triumph, bringing it up like she’d hooked a big fish.

Dean was still leaning over the bed staring at the marriage license. There must be a mistake. It couldn't be true surely?

“What’s that piece of paper?” Faith asked him. “Court summons?”

“It says we’re married!” Dean squirmed back up onto the bed, and showed her the paper. “It says we got married last night, at the Elvis Presley Chapel of Love.”

Faith read aghast, the black and white print with her own eyes. “Oh holy shit! We’re screwed.”
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