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spn_springflingTitle: A Brief Aside
Pairing: Sam/Jody
Rating: Mature
Any warnings: Mild gore, reference to sexual assault
---
“A whole week?”
“ A whole week,” Jody confirms, holding the cabin door open for him.
Sam manages to restrain himself long enough for her to shut it behind him before dropping his bag and scooping her up, her legs going around his waist as he pins her to the against the wall. It’s been way too long since the last time they spent time together, mostly due to scheduling. Neither of them lead uncomplicated lives.
Jody’s an aggressive kisser, steadying herself with one hand across Sam’s shoulders, the other one gripping him by the hair, which he’s definitely not complaining about. Sam’s arms are starting to ache by the time Jody pulls away just long enough to say, “Couch.”
Jody’d slipped a bit during the course of their makeout session, so he hoists her back up and she tightens her legs around him. He makes it to the couch without having to put her down, even if he’s sure his wide-legged waddle over was something less than dignified.
He falls back on the couch, wincing as he brings Jody down a little too heavily on some sensitive -- and interested -- body parts.
Jody, for as much as Sam knows she appreciates his ability to manhandle her, takes immediate advantage of being on top, hand back in his hair, pulling his head to the side so she can attack his neck in a way he knows is going to leave a hickey. It’s okay, though, because it’ll have a whole week to heal, and honestly the thought of her marking him up is getting him --
A chime near the front door rings and Jody freezes, mouth still pressed to his pulse point.
“Doorbell?” Sam asks. He sounds a little more wrecked than he was expecting.
Jody shakes her head, pulling away so he can see her better. “After last time, with the vampires, I had an alarm installed at the end of the driveway for approaching vehicles.”
“Smart,” Sam says. He’s trying very hard not to sound disappointed at the interruption.
Jody hears it anyway and gives him a sympathetic pat on the arm before standing up and fixing her rumpled shirt. “Does anyone know you’re here?”
Sam shakes his head. “Dean thinks I’m off camping.”
Jody’s frowning now. “The girls think I’m at a convention in Minneapolis.”
There’s a shotgun propped near the door, and Jody pulls a silver hunting knife out of a drawer in the entryway table. After a moment’s consideration she hands Sam the shotgun and keeps the knife for herself. Sam takes a position off to the side, out of easy eyeshot from the doorway.
Whoever’s on the other side of the door doesn’t knock, just turns the knob, nearly falling inside when Jody yanks it open first.
“Alex?” she asks.
It is Alex, but she’s not looking particularly good. She’s pale and sweaty and swaying a little on her feet. She doesn’t say anything.
“I thought you were going skiing with your friends? Spring break?” Jody prompts.
“I -- “ she starts. Her eyes flick over to Sam, to the gun he’s put down to lean against the wall. She doesn’t seem surprised to see him. “I wasn’t feeling very well. This was close.”
Jody puts the knife back down on the table and ushers Alex in, looking out for the car that had dropped her off, but they’re already gone. “You should have called,” she says. She puts her hand against Alex’s head. “You’re hot.”
“I didn’t want to worry you,” she says. And then, again, “This was close.”
Jody shoots Sam an apologetic glance even as she ushers Alex inside. “It’s okay. Why don’t you go lay down?”
Alex shuffles off into the bedroom.
Sam waits until she’s out of sight before he says, “I should go.”
Jody shakes her head. “Don’t. It’s getting late and she’s already seen you.”
“Yeah, she has.” Sam runs a hand through his hair, wincing as he realizes he has a pretty bad case of sex-hair. “Cat’s out of the bag.”
“Cat’s out of the bag,” Jody confirms. “Could be worse. It could’ve been Claire who walked through that door.”
---
In the end he and Jody spend a frustratingly g-rated night on the pull-out couch while Alex takes the bedroom. The morning is better in that it at least provides Sam some distraction from the extended interruptus. As great as sex with Jody is, and it’s is seriously great, it’s the combination of the sex and all the other stuff that makes what they have so satisfying, if inconstant. Even after not seeing each other for months they fall back into sync as if they’d woken up together yesterday.
They spend the early morning catching up on recent developments. Sam tells her about their most recent hunt, the weirdness of having his mother back in the picture, and their decision to work with the British Men of Letters. Jody tells him about how well Alex is doing at school, and how she’s trying to respect Claire’s decision to hunt even though it terrifies her.
What they have is good. Easy. Uncomplicated, despite the sneaking around.
He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t sometimes want more, that it doesn’t hurt to pry himself away every time they part, but he doesn’t want to risk what they already have by trying to force it to be something more than it is. Anyway, he can’t think of any scenario where his regular presence in Jody’s life (and Alex’s and Claire’s lives by extension) would anywhere other than tragedy. People around him have a tendency of dying. Sometimes he wonders if the connection they already have between them is too much, too risky. But he this is a situation where he can’t seem to stop himself from being selfish.
Besides, if Jody thought he was avoiding her to spare her she’d probably kill him.
Jody is telling him about a juvenile mischief case she recently worked which ended up being a poltergeist while he makes them coffee. A sour smell emits from the creamer when he uncaps it.
“How do you feel about just sugar?” he asks her.
Jody leans over and takes a sniff of the coffee creamer to verify it’s turned. “Yikes.” She goes to the mini fridge and pulls out a half gallon of milk instead, handing that to Sam as she scoots around him to dump the creamer in the sink.
The milk, though slightly less pungent, has also spoiled. It also gets dumped.
Sam examines the fridge to make sure it’s working while Jody makes some tea to bring in to Alex, who has yet to make an appearance.
Shortly after Jody’s disappeared into the bedroom, and Sam’s verified that fridge seems to be working fine, there comes a soft almost inaudible knock on the door. Not entirely sure he’d heard it -- it could have been a branch or something, after all the proximity alarm on the driveway hadn’t gone off -- he pads over in his socks and, picking up the knife just in case, cracks the door.
It’s Claire, a spiral notebook in one hand. Her eyes get wide when she sees him, but as soon as he opens his mouth to speak she frantically waves her hand and puts a finger to her mouth, signalling him to be quiet. She holds up the notebook, message already written out in large, blocky letters: THAT’S NOT ALEX.
---
“Hey, Jody,” Sam calls casually. “Can you come out here a second?”
It’s a minute or two before Jody comes back into the main room, but it feels like a lot longer. She raises an eyebrow at Claire’s presence, but heeds the finger Sam has against his lips.
Claire holds out her notebook with its ominous message again.
Jody picks a pen up off the counter and crosses over to them. Underneath she writes: I know.
There’s a moment of tense silence while Claire looks from Sam, to Jody, and then back to Sam. Finally she makes a horrified face and, with lightning fast accuracy, pokes him directly in the hickey, mouthing the word “gross”.
Jody hits her lightly with the back of her hand.
Claire turns to a new page in her notebook, this one covered with her own tightly packed chicken scratch. The top of the page reads, “Fairies, fae, and elves.”
---
Five minutes later Jody’s pinning the thing that isn’t Alex to the bed with an iron fire poker. It screams, a sound more like nails on a chalkboard than anything human lungs are capable of. Its eyes take on a membranous quality the longer Jody holds the iron to it, its skin becoming almost translucent. There’s no way it could be mistaken for Alex now.
“Start talking,” Jody tells it.
Oddly enough it does. Though its appearance had been fake, its sickness hadn’t been, and it’s too weak to put up much of a fight. In a voice reminiscent of a frog’s croak it tells them about the fairy mound in the woods, about the Fairy Court that rules there, and how their bloodlines have been weakened both by their proximity to humankind (or more specifically humankind’s iron) and centuries of poor breeding. They’ve taken to swapping out some of their weakest for strong human stock in the hope they’ll strengthen the bloodline.
At the mention of the word breeding Jody pushes the iron further into the thing’s throat, making it whine. Sam has to stop Claire from pushing her way over from where he has her corralled near the door.
In the end they get directions from the creature in return for as quick a death as they can deliver. In retrospect they should have taken it off the bed first, because it basically wrecks be degenerating into a pile of black, sludgy ichor.
The fairy hill isn’t far. It’s close enough that its denizens had been able to spy on Alex the last time she been at the cabin, close enough for them to learn about her, and eventually replace her with one of their own. They rustle up a second iron poker for Claire, and Sam has an iron knife in among the small amount of hunting supplies he’s brought with him. The entrance to the fairy hill is through the center of an oak that’s been hewn in half by lightning, and doesn’t look much like an entrance to anything, but as soon as Sam passes through he can feel the difference. There’s a certain charge to the air. It’s several steps further before they notice that there are earthen walls pressing in around them where before there’d been none. They’re underground.
The first actual fairy they see comes in the form of a small, darting light. Squinting at it hard, Sam thinks he can make out the silhouette of a naked woman inside.
“See, this,” Jody says, gesturing, “is more what I think of when someone says fair--”
The ball of light darts forward and Jody jumps back, clutching her suddenly bleeding hand. “Motherfuck--”
The thing emits a high-pitched cackle and darts around their heads, taunting. Sam takes a swing at it with his knife not really expecting to hit it, but he gets lucky and manages to squash the thing against a rock like a giant, gorey mosquito.
They take a moment to wrap Jody’s hand with a bandana. The wound is small, but deep and she’ll probably need a couple of stitches when they get back to the cabin.
They continue on, following the directions the creature had given them to the holding area fake Alex had told them real Alex is likely being kept. There are two guards at the entrance who they manage to catch unaware. They have the same frog-like skin fake Alex had had, and they burst like paper bags full of black goo when they’re hit with the iron pokers.
They find Alex inside, sitting in a cage woven from thorny vines and looking pissed off. There are several other cages in the room, but hers is the only one that’s occupied. Her arms and hands are covered with scratches and cuts from trying to get out of the cage, but she appears otherwise unharmed..
“Pretty sure they were going to sacrifice me, and not… integrate me, or whatever,” Alex explains as Sam uses the iron knife to saw the vines apart. She keeps her tone light, but Sam can see her shaking minutely. “I fought them hard. I’m a biter.”
Claire snorts. “You can take the girl out of the vampire nest…”
Alex laughs weakly, even as she says, “Not funny. I’m really sick of being kidnapped.” With the vines successfully cut, Sam lets Claire help Alex maneuver out of the cage without hurting herself further while he goes to resecure Jody’s bandage.
“That’s a thing?” he hears Alex ask.
“Oh, that is a thing,” Claire says with salacious emphasis. “Jody’s, like, a total Mrs. Robinson.”
“Koo koo ka choo, you little jerk,” Jody grits out through her teeth as Sam ties the bandana off.
The journey out is tense but uneventful. It feels like they’re being watched. The transition from the world of the fairy hill back to their own is just as gradual as it had been when they were entering. They know they’re back back when Sam, Jody, and Claire’s cell phones all go off at once.
“Shit,” Claire says, looking at hers.
“What?” Sam asks.
Claire holds her phone up so he can read the date. Ten days. They’ve been under the fairy hill for ten days.
“Shit,” Sam echoes.
It should come as no surprise then that when they get back to the cabin the Impala is sitting in the driveway. In the darkening twilight Sam can see there’s a light on in Jody’s cabin.
As the girls go ahead, Jody hangs back.
“What is it?” Sam asks.
“The girls know about us now,” she says. “I think we’re at a tipping point, with this thing we have.”
“Yeah,” Sam says, eyeing the Impala. “I think you’re right.”
After so much time spent thinking about it, the decision is pretty easy. He holds out his hand for Jody to take, if she wants. She raises an eyebrow at him, but there’s a smile playing at the corner of her lips. She puts her hand in his and together they go inside.
Pairing: Sam/Jody
Rating: Mature
Any warnings: Mild gore, reference to sexual assault
---
“A whole week?”
“ A whole week,” Jody confirms, holding the cabin door open for him.
Sam manages to restrain himself long enough for her to shut it behind him before dropping his bag and scooping her up, her legs going around his waist as he pins her to the against the wall. It’s been way too long since the last time they spent time together, mostly due to scheduling. Neither of them lead uncomplicated lives.
Jody’s an aggressive kisser, steadying herself with one hand across Sam’s shoulders, the other one gripping him by the hair, which he’s definitely not complaining about. Sam’s arms are starting to ache by the time Jody pulls away just long enough to say, “Couch.”
Jody’d slipped a bit during the course of their makeout session, so he hoists her back up and she tightens her legs around him. He makes it to the couch without having to put her down, even if he’s sure his wide-legged waddle over was something less than dignified.
He falls back on the couch, wincing as he brings Jody down a little too heavily on some sensitive -- and interested -- body parts.
Jody, for as much as Sam knows she appreciates his ability to manhandle her, takes immediate advantage of being on top, hand back in his hair, pulling his head to the side so she can attack his neck in a way he knows is going to leave a hickey. It’s okay, though, because it’ll have a whole week to heal, and honestly the thought of her marking him up is getting him --
A chime near the front door rings and Jody freezes, mouth still pressed to his pulse point.
“Doorbell?” Sam asks. He sounds a little more wrecked than he was expecting.
Jody shakes her head, pulling away so he can see her better. “After last time, with the vampires, I had an alarm installed at the end of the driveway for approaching vehicles.”
“Smart,” Sam says. He’s trying very hard not to sound disappointed at the interruption.
Jody hears it anyway and gives him a sympathetic pat on the arm before standing up and fixing her rumpled shirt. “Does anyone know you’re here?”
Sam shakes his head. “Dean thinks I’m off camping.”
Jody’s frowning now. “The girls think I’m at a convention in Minneapolis.”
There’s a shotgun propped near the door, and Jody pulls a silver hunting knife out of a drawer in the entryway table. After a moment’s consideration she hands Sam the shotgun and keeps the knife for herself. Sam takes a position off to the side, out of easy eyeshot from the doorway.
Whoever’s on the other side of the door doesn’t knock, just turns the knob, nearly falling inside when Jody yanks it open first.
“Alex?” she asks.
It is Alex, but she’s not looking particularly good. She’s pale and sweaty and swaying a little on her feet. She doesn’t say anything.
“I thought you were going skiing with your friends? Spring break?” Jody prompts.
“I -- “ she starts. Her eyes flick over to Sam, to the gun he’s put down to lean against the wall. She doesn’t seem surprised to see him. “I wasn’t feeling very well. This was close.”
Jody puts the knife back down on the table and ushers Alex in, looking out for the car that had dropped her off, but they’re already gone. “You should have called,” she says. She puts her hand against Alex’s head. “You’re hot.”
“I didn’t want to worry you,” she says. And then, again, “This was close.”
Jody shoots Sam an apologetic glance even as she ushers Alex inside. “It’s okay. Why don’t you go lay down?”
Alex shuffles off into the bedroom.
Sam waits until she’s out of sight before he says, “I should go.”
Jody shakes her head. “Don’t. It’s getting late and she’s already seen you.”
“Yeah, she has.” Sam runs a hand through his hair, wincing as he realizes he has a pretty bad case of sex-hair. “Cat’s out of the bag.”
“Cat’s out of the bag,” Jody confirms. “Could be worse. It could’ve been Claire who walked through that door.”
---
In the end he and Jody spend a frustratingly g-rated night on the pull-out couch while Alex takes the bedroom. The morning is better in that it at least provides Sam some distraction from the extended interruptus. As great as sex with Jody is, and it’s is seriously great, it’s the combination of the sex and all the other stuff that makes what they have so satisfying, if inconstant. Even after not seeing each other for months they fall back into sync as if they’d woken up together yesterday.
They spend the early morning catching up on recent developments. Sam tells her about their most recent hunt, the weirdness of having his mother back in the picture, and their decision to work with the British Men of Letters. Jody tells him about how well Alex is doing at school, and how she’s trying to respect Claire’s decision to hunt even though it terrifies her.
What they have is good. Easy. Uncomplicated, despite the sneaking around.
He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t sometimes want more, that it doesn’t hurt to pry himself away every time they part, but he doesn’t want to risk what they already have by trying to force it to be something more than it is. Anyway, he can’t think of any scenario where his regular presence in Jody’s life (and Alex’s and Claire’s lives by extension) would anywhere other than tragedy. People around him have a tendency of dying. Sometimes he wonders if the connection they already have between them is too much, too risky. But he this is a situation where he can’t seem to stop himself from being selfish.
Besides, if Jody thought he was avoiding her to spare her she’d probably kill him.
Jody is telling him about a juvenile mischief case she recently worked which ended up being a poltergeist while he makes them coffee. A sour smell emits from the creamer when he uncaps it.
“How do you feel about just sugar?” he asks her.
Jody leans over and takes a sniff of the coffee creamer to verify it’s turned. “Yikes.” She goes to the mini fridge and pulls out a half gallon of milk instead, handing that to Sam as she scoots around him to dump the creamer in the sink.
The milk, though slightly less pungent, has also spoiled. It also gets dumped.
Sam examines the fridge to make sure it’s working while Jody makes some tea to bring in to Alex, who has yet to make an appearance.
Shortly after Jody’s disappeared into the bedroom, and Sam’s verified that fridge seems to be working fine, there comes a soft almost inaudible knock on the door. Not entirely sure he’d heard it -- it could have been a branch or something, after all the proximity alarm on the driveway hadn’t gone off -- he pads over in his socks and, picking up the knife just in case, cracks the door.
It’s Claire, a spiral notebook in one hand. Her eyes get wide when she sees him, but as soon as he opens his mouth to speak she frantically waves her hand and puts a finger to her mouth, signalling him to be quiet. She holds up the notebook, message already written out in large, blocky letters: THAT’S NOT ALEX.
---
“Hey, Jody,” Sam calls casually. “Can you come out here a second?”
It’s a minute or two before Jody comes back into the main room, but it feels like a lot longer. She raises an eyebrow at Claire’s presence, but heeds the finger Sam has against his lips.
Claire holds out her notebook with its ominous message again.
Jody picks a pen up off the counter and crosses over to them. Underneath she writes: I know.
There’s a moment of tense silence while Claire looks from Sam, to Jody, and then back to Sam. Finally she makes a horrified face and, with lightning fast accuracy, pokes him directly in the hickey, mouthing the word “gross”.
Jody hits her lightly with the back of her hand.
Claire turns to a new page in her notebook, this one covered with her own tightly packed chicken scratch. The top of the page reads, “Fairies, fae, and elves.”
---
Five minutes later Jody’s pinning the thing that isn’t Alex to the bed with an iron fire poker. It screams, a sound more like nails on a chalkboard than anything human lungs are capable of. Its eyes take on a membranous quality the longer Jody holds the iron to it, its skin becoming almost translucent. There’s no way it could be mistaken for Alex now.
“Start talking,” Jody tells it.
Oddly enough it does. Though its appearance had been fake, its sickness hadn’t been, and it’s too weak to put up much of a fight. In a voice reminiscent of a frog’s croak it tells them about the fairy mound in the woods, about the Fairy Court that rules there, and how their bloodlines have been weakened both by their proximity to humankind (or more specifically humankind’s iron) and centuries of poor breeding. They’ve taken to swapping out some of their weakest for strong human stock in the hope they’ll strengthen the bloodline.
At the mention of the word breeding Jody pushes the iron further into the thing’s throat, making it whine. Sam has to stop Claire from pushing her way over from where he has her corralled near the door.
In the end they get directions from the creature in return for as quick a death as they can deliver. In retrospect they should have taken it off the bed first, because it basically wrecks be degenerating into a pile of black, sludgy ichor.
The fairy hill isn’t far. It’s close enough that its denizens had been able to spy on Alex the last time she been at the cabin, close enough for them to learn about her, and eventually replace her with one of their own. They rustle up a second iron poker for Claire, and Sam has an iron knife in among the small amount of hunting supplies he’s brought with him. The entrance to the fairy hill is through the center of an oak that’s been hewn in half by lightning, and doesn’t look much like an entrance to anything, but as soon as Sam passes through he can feel the difference. There’s a certain charge to the air. It’s several steps further before they notice that there are earthen walls pressing in around them where before there’d been none. They’re underground.
The first actual fairy they see comes in the form of a small, darting light. Squinting at it hard, Sam thinks he can make out the silhouette of a naked woman inside.
“See, this,” Jody says, gesturing, “is more what I think of when someone says fair--”
The ball of light darts forward and Jody jumps back, clutching her suddenly bleeding hand. “Motherfuck--”
The thing emits a high-pitched cackle and darts around their heads, taunting. Sam takes a swing at it with his knife not really expecting to hit it, but he gets lucky and manages to squash the thing against a rock like a giant, gorey mosquito.
They take a moment to wrap Jody’s hand with a bandana. The wound is small, but deep and she’ll probably need a couple of stitches when they get back to the cabin.
They continue on, following the directions the creature had given them to the holding area fake Alex had told them real Alex is likely being kept. There are two guards at the entrance who they manage to catch unaware. They have the same frog-like skin fake Alex had had, and they burst like paper bags full of black goo when they’re hit with the iron pokers.
They find Alex inside, sitting in a cage woven from thorny vines and looking pissed off. There are several other cages in the room, but hers is the only one that’s occupied. Her arms and hands are covered with scratches and cuts from trying to get out of the cage, but she appears otherwise unharmed..
“Pretty sure they were going to sacrifice me, and not… integrate me, or whatever,” Alex explains as Sam uses the iron knife to saw the vines apart. She keeps her tone light, but Sam can see her shaking minutely. “I fought them hard. I’m a biter.”
Claire snorts. “You can take the girl out of the vampire nest…”
Alex laughs weakly, even as she says, “Not funny. I’m really sick of being kidnapped.” With the vines successfully cut, Sam lets Claire help Alex maneuver out of the cage without hurting herself further while he goes to resecure Jody’s bandage.
“That’s a thing?” he hears Alex ask.
“Oh, that is a thing,” Claire says with salacious emphasis. “Jody’s, like, a total Mrs. Robinson.”
“Koo koo ka choo, you little jerk,” Jody grits out through her teeth as Sam ties the bandana off.
The journey out is tense but uneventful. It feels like they’re being watched. The transition from the world of the fairy hill back to their own is just as gradual as it had been when they were entering. They know they’re back back when Sam, Jody, and Claire’s cell phones all go off at once.
“Shit,” Claire says, looking at hers.
“What?” Sam asks.
Claire holds her phone up so he can read the date. Ten days. They’ve been under the fairy hill for ten days.
“Shit,” Sam echoes.
It should come as no surprise then that when they get back to the cabin the Impala is sitting in the driveway. In the darkening twilight Sam can see there’s a light on in Jody’s cabin.
As the girls go ahead, Jody hangs back.
“What is it?” Sam asks.
“The girls know about us now,” she says. “I think we’re at a tipping point, with this thing we have.”
“Yeah,” Sam says, eyeing the Impala. “I think you’re right.”
After so much time spent thinking about it, the decision is pretty easy. He holds out his hand for Jody to take, if she wants. She raises an eyebrow at him, but there’s a smile playing at the corner of her lips. She puts her hand in his and together they go inside.
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Date: 2017-04-05 03:43 pm (UTC)ILU so much, author. SO much.
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Date: 2017-04-18 03:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-05 04:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-18 03:06 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-05 05:04 pm (UTC)The Mrs. Robinson dig was perfection and this: People around him have a tendency of dying. Sometimes he wonders if the connection they already have between them is too much, too risky. But he this is a situation where he can’t seem to stop himself from being selfish. Painful, but oh, so perfect.
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Date: 2017-04-18 03:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-05 06:06 pm (UTC)xxx
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Date: 2017-04-18 03:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-06 03:13 am (UTC)Also, Sam with a hickey - lovely image
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Date: 2017-04-18 03:10 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-04-06 06:02 am (UTC)Very nicely done, I love this ship!
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Date: 2017-04-18 12:36 pm (UTC)