spn_springfling | Summer Wind by choc_freckles for <user site="livejournal.com" u

Title: Summer Wind

Pairing: Sam/Jody

Rating: Teen

Sam takes one of the cars from the bunker garage and drives to see Jody. He pulls into her driveway just after noon on a Wednesday, the day already a scorcher. He can see the heat waves rising off the hood of the car, but that just makes him grin. Perfect.

Jody steps out onto her porch, her hand shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun. "Sam? That you?"

Sam bounds up the steps. "You free for a couple of days?" He asks in way of a greeting.

Jody folds her arms over her chest. "And if I said I wasn't? What then, Winchester?"

Sam laughs. "Guess I'll just drive to the coast and go to the beach by myself then."

Jody eyes Sam for a minute, then says, "Let me make a couple of calls. Come on in and have something to drink."

Sam follows her into the house, breathing in relief at the cool air within. Jody points him to the kitchen while she goes to the study to make her calls.
It's not long before she's throwing a few items of clothing into her bag, and scolding Sam for not bringing his own sunscreen. They hit the road, all the windows rolled down, and the radio tuned to an oldies station. Jody lets her hand ride the current of the air as it flows by her window.

The smell of ocean air fills the car as they get closer, and Sam feels his shoulders inch away from his ears. He glances at Jody out of the corner of his eye, and grins when she catches him. She reaches over and grabs his right hand with her left, squeezing it.

Sam parks and grabs their bags from the trunk. He'd found a slightly more upscale motel than the normal Winchester-type place, and Jody smiles in appreciation when he opens the door to their room.

The beach is a little ways away, down a quiet, tree-lined block. They pass some restaurants, and Sam takes note at the one that catches Jody's attention. Seagulls screech at them as they walk, inquiring after crumbs that neither of them have in their possession.

The beach isn't too crowded, and Sam rents a couple of chairs and an umbrella for them. It's low tide, the waves crashing on the beach further out, and the damp sand just above the tide line is populated with children and their parents constructing sand castles. About ten feet from their perch is a small, sandy haired boy. Tongue poking out of the side of his mouth, he uses a pint sized spade to dig a hole. Sam and Jody watch for a few moments, captivated by his determination to relocate as much of the beach as he can.

Sam breaks his gaze away from the little boy and gets the sunscreen out of his backpack, which he hands to Jody. She spreads the lotion on her face and shoulders, and then hands the bottle back to Sam. "Get my back?"

Jody faces the water as Sam squirts sunscreen into his palm. He rubs them together a bit to spread out the lotion, and then regards Jody's back. She's wearing a one-piece that leaves her bare from her shoulders down to her waist. She's stiff, her shoulders holding onto the tension like its a lifeline. Sam presses one large palm to her shoulder blade, rubbing in small circles. Her pale skin soaks up the lotion, and Jody leans back into Sam's hand, the tension bleeding away. He puts more sunscreen in his hands and uses them both to cover the rest of her back. He doesn't mean to, but as he works, his hands slow down as he relishes the twitches of her skin and muscles beneath his sensitive palms.

He's thorough, making sure no part of her back will get sunburnt. "Do me?" He asks, blushing as he realizes what he's said. Jody's eyebrow quirks up, but she has the grace not to say anything about it.

Jody marvels at the huge muscled expanse of Sam's back. He's massive and tall, but not intimidating, at least not to her. She's seen him face down zombies and demons and goddesses, but he’s never turned that power against her. Seeing the musculature up close and personal like this, Jody's mouth dries up. She finishes applying the sunscreen, but takes advantage of the moment to run her blunt fingernails down the dip of his spine. Sam shivers in the heat of the day.

They avoid each other’s gaze as they get comfortable on their chairs, quiet in the moment. The sounds of the beach wash over them: the crashing surf, the happy shrieks of children and adults alike as they play in the water. They’re far off, though, as if Sam and Jody are in their own little bubble.

Sam can’t sit still for too long, however, and he hops up like an excited puppy, holding his hand out for Jody to clasp. “C’mon, let’s go in the water.” Jody lets Sam pull her upright, and they keep their hands together as they walk to the tideline.

Sam dives straight in, an enormous sploosh of water rising up in his wake. He doesn’t even bother to make the dive graceful, and when he rises up again, he shakes his head, water droplets flying everywhere. A few land on Jody’s shoulders, beading on the sunscreen, and she squawks, indignant. Lunging towards him, she splashes him as much as she can, until he grabs her by the waist. “Hold your breath,” he says in her ear, just before pulling her under with him. They resurface quickly, and Jody’s goosebumps have less to do with the chill of the water than they do with Sam’s arms holding her close.

They cavort and play in the water for a while, never straying far from each other’s orbit. Sam’s long hair keeps flopping in his face, and he pushes it back with an irritated huff each time. The resulting styles make Jody giggle, and she wishes that she could take a picture, capture every one, each more ridiculous than the last. Sam makes faces at her when he realizes she’s laughing at him.

Their skin is pruned by the time they get out, the salt of the water drying their lips and making them parched. Sam tosses Jody a towel, and they dry off before Jody collapses onto a chair. Sam goes off in search of drinks, coming back with bottled water and cold sodas. When Jody drinks, the cool, sugary liquid bursts upon her tongue and coats the back of her throat pleasantly.

The afternoon winds on, the breeze kicking up. Sam’s hair flies every which way, covering his eyes. Laughing, Jody finds a hair tie in his bag and pulls his hair back into a ponytail. If she takes a little more time smoothing the hair to his scalp, well, that’s her business. Sam smiles at her, a shy thing. “Thanks.”

They watch the tide come in, chasing the sand castle builders further up the beach until a couple of boys and their older sister are right in front of Sam and Jody’s spot. Sam offers to help out, but they assure him they’ve got it in hand. He flashes them a grin. It’s comfortable, this hanging out on the beach with Jody. It’s normal, and what’s better is that she knows. She knows about his day job, she knows Dean and she’s worked with them. She understands what it’s like, and Sam thinks that might mean that she gets him.

He turns over on his side. “Thanks.”

She shades her eyes with her hand and looks back at him. “For what?”

Sam shrugs. “For coming with me. For...” he waves one large hand in the air, not really sure what he means, but wanting to encompass... well, everything.

Jody gives him a calculating look and then leans over to kiss him. It’s a brief kiss, salty and sandy, with a chorus of “ewww” from the kids working on their sand castle. Jody pulls away and snorts in laughter. “Don’t take it for granted, Winchester.”

Sam smiles and kisses her again, ignoring the sounds of dismay from the kids. They give up when it’s clear that neither Sam nor Jody cares. When they come up for air, Sam rubs their noses together. “Salty,” he says in a hushed voice. Jody hums a response and kisses Sam again.

It’s not until after sunset when they finally decide to leave the beach, the last of the orange and purple streaks hovering in the sky behind them. They meander back to their room, hands clasped lightly, the breeze off the ocean ruffling Jody’s and Sam’s hair as they go.

Later, after dinner, when they’re sprawled on the bed, full to bursting with good food, Sam tickles at the back of Jody’s knee. “Do this again sometime?”

Jody props her head up on her hand. “What’s wrong with tomorrow?”