Raspberries
Title: Raspberry
Author: oops_pig
Disclaimer: None of this is real .....
Pairing:Rating: PG-13
Summary: The smell of her, of raspberries, permeate his senses and he can't stop thinking about her
Author's Notes: Companion piece to Coffee and Answering Machines. Jensen's POV
He's still not sure what possessed him to pick up the phone and call her. If you asked him he'd tell you it was to get Jared off his back; Jared who breathed down his neck the whole message.
Jared was the only reason he called her in the first place, yes. His incessant moaning, pleas and insistence that he was only trying to get Jensen laid. Not that Jensen just wanted to call her for the sex; no, that wasn't it at all. It was the fact that he could still feel her tiny waist around his hand the fact that he had woken up with the smell of raspberries, the same smell that he'd caught a whiff of in her hair, that smell in his nostrils for days after he'd seen her last.
He also isn't sure what possessed him to lead her away from the crowds, crowds of story-hungry reporters at that, just to hug her to him and get another quick whiff of that raspberry goodness. He's not used to having something so small in his arms. After such a long friendship with Jared he's gotten used to big. Her teeny tiny waist feels good under his fingertips as he strokes the cotton of her dress, a fleeting thought about her breasts under the same fingertips flies through his head. He grins as he releases her and wonders where this will go as he leads her away.
~*~*~*~*~*~
They strike up a tentative friendship that the media could easily assume would come down to them being so suddenly on the same network. They both know that it's more than that; something primal and, well, simpler. They have a connection, the same odd connection that he and Jared had at first meeting. Jared loves it; this friendship that is struck up over answering machine messages. He tells Jensen that he thinks its like being back in high school. Or the 1950's. He tells Jensen that he's courting her. Jensen just slaps him upside the head and tells him to go back to work.
But, there it is. He's courting her.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The next time he's in LA, even though he knows he'll be seeing her that night at the next CW evening, he calls her up and invites her out with him. He knows that she's busy filming; hell, he's only in LA two days and then he and Jay are back in Vancouver, but he'd like to see her outside of a working environment. He wants to see if she tastes as good as she smells. And as soon as that thought is out of his head, he's regretting it.
He calls her anyway and asks her out. As fate has it he's in luck and she's not shooting on the Wednesday afternoon. She's free to leave set anytime after about one. Can he pick her up from her West Hollywood apartment?
He can and he does.
~*~*~*~*~*~
She's wearing jeans and a pretty little white thing even though it's about 50 degrees. She looks amazing; all golden skin and California dreamin'.
He grins at her from his spot leaning on her door frame and straightens up, "I didn't bring you flowers or anythin'. Guess I'm not that much of a date, huh?"
She smiles back, a tugpull at the corner of her lips and chuckles deep in her throat, "I don't mind. I'm not much of a sucker for flowers and candy anyway. Ice-cream gets me."
"Duly noted," he nods as he follows into her apartment.
The living room is bathed in late afternoon winter sun and the room is painted in a cheerful yellow. It feels homely, and he supposes it should be. She lives here all the time, as opposed to when she's just filming.
There's a mural of photos on one wall, pinned casually on a cork-board along with a few fake plastic flowers and one of those cheesy umbrellas you get in gaudy cocktails. There's one of her with a guy who looks astonishingly like her, blonde hair and big grin whom he assumes is her brother. There's a couple of her in the make up chair with garish colors on her cheeks and eyelids, hair sprayed into a huge coif, and quite a few of her with Jason Dohring, Teddy Dunn and a couple other people he recognizes from the show. There are a whole bunch of her with pretty home-town girls and right, smack-bang in the middle, is the one of the two of them that was taken at the last CW event. It's been professionally printed and that makes him grin, that she'd care enough to put the two of them up on the wall. Something warm and gooey slides down his spine.
She pokes him in the middle of his back with a fingernail, and he swings round to face her, his "Dean Winchester - Sex God" grin on his face. He points at the photograph, "You like me that much, huh?"
She shrugs, "It's the only picture I have of you. And you look kinda cute. Until I get another one, it stays."
He can deal with that, and he leads her out of the apartment and into the dying Los Angeles sunshine, "What do you feel like doin' gorgeous? This bein' your neighborhood an all, I figure you can pick."
She grins wide and bounces on the balls of her feet, reminding him of a smaller version of Jared when he's excited, and it makes his heart skip a beat, "You wanna go to Starrbucks and grab a coffee? It's just down the block, and I could really go for a Vanilla Chai Tea."
"You actually drink that crap?" he pulls a face, "I suppose they make plain black, right?"
She shrugs, "Sure. Although you can't really call that coffee. It doesn't even have sugar in it."
"Sugar," he says as he slips her arm through his, "I don't need any more sweetness with you around."
~*~*~*~*~*~
She laughs and he grins right through the whole afternoon as they chat about anything and everything, her teasing him about his Texan accent that slips out when he's feeling relaxed and not on set and he about her vegetarianism, telling her he'll have to take her out for a big, juicy Texas steak.
They end up splitting a pizza and find they both like plain cheese the best. Jensen sinks down on her ancient sofa and thinks idly that he'll never be able to move again. She puts on some terribly cheesy horror movie and he spends the whole time pointing out how the special effects are done as she hides her face in his chest. The smell of raspberry wafts up his nose everytime she moves and he wonders if he's died and gone to heaven.
When the movie ends, she jumps up off the sofa and puts her hands on her hips, flicking long blonde hair that he feels the urge to run his fingers through out of his face, "I hate to kick you out like this but its almost ten and I work in the morning."
He holds out his hands for her to pull him off the sofa and he eases himself up, catching her before she trips over the rug on the floor. He ends up, somehow, with both hands around her soft, small waist and smiling down into her upturned face, "Don't bother me at all. I'll see you tomorrow night, right?"
She nods and he thinks, but isn't sure, that maybe she's stopped breathing, "Yeah. I'll be there with my media face on."
He chuckles and pushes a strand of hair away from her face, feeling the silk between his fingers, "Good. Guess I'll see you then." he replies, still not moving away.
She wraps tiny hands around his neck and stands on her tip-toes, breath ghosting along his lips, "You going to kiss me goodnight?" she asks, almost silently.
He swallows hard and tries to smile as his heart almost crashes its way out of his chest.
She tastes of cherries and cheese, and he can still smell those damned raspberries. Her hair falls through his fingers as he wraps them in the blonde. Lips rub soft against his, insistent, and he can guarantee he's going to need a cold shower when he gets back to his hotel room.
She pulls away and smiles shyly, "Well, now I'm fucked." she tells him softly.
"Yeah," he agrees, still not letting go, "Yeah, me too."
Author: oops_pig
Disclaimer: None of this is real .....
Pairing:Rating: PG-13
Summary: The smell of her, of raspberries, permeate his senses and he can't stop thinking about her
Author's Notes: Companion piece to Coffee and Answering Machines. Jensen's POV
He's still not sure what possessed him to pick up the phone and call her. If you asked him he'd tell you it was to get Jared off his back; Jared who breathed down his neck the whole message.
Jared was the only reason he called her in the first place, yes. His incessant moaning, pleas and insistence that he was only trying to get Jensen laid. Not that Jensen just wanted to call her for the sex; no, that wasn't it at all. It was the fact that he could still feel her tiny waist around his hand the fact that he had woken up with the smell of raspberries, the same smell that he'd caught a whiff of in her hair, that smell in his nostrils for days after he'd seen her last.
He also isn't sure what possessed him to lead her away from the crowds, crowds of story-hungry reporters at that, just to hug her to him and get another quick whiff of that raspberry goodness. He's not used to having something so small in his arms. After such a long friendship with Jared he's gotten used to big. Her teeny tiny waist feels good under his fingertips as he strokes the cotton of her dress, a fleeting thought about her breasts under the same fingertips flies through his head. He grins as he releases her and wonders where this will go as he leads her away.
~*~*~*~*~*~
They strike up a tentative friendship that the media could easily assume would come down to them being so suddenly on the same network. They both know that it's more than that; something primal and, well, simpler. They have a connection, the same odd connection that he and Jared had at first meeting. Jared loves it; this friendship that is struck up over answering machine messages. He tells Jensen that he thinks its like being back in high school. Or the 1950's. He tells Jensen that he's courting her. Jensen just slaps him upside the head and tells him to go back to work.
But, there it is. He's courting her.
~*~*~*~*~*~
The next time he's in LA, even though he knows he'll be seeing her that night at the next CW evening, he calls her up and invites her out with him. He knows that she's busy filming; hell, he's only in LA two days and then he and Jay are back in Vancouver, but he'd like to see her outside of a working environment. He wants to see if she tastes as good as she smells. And as soon as that thought is out of his head, he's regretting it.
He calls her anyway and asks her out. As fate has it he's in luck and she's not shooting on the Wednesday afternoon. She's free to leave set anytime after about one. Can he pick her up from her West Hollywood apartment?
He can and he does.
~*~*~*~*~*~
She's wearing jeans and a pretty little white thing even though it's about 50 degrees. She looks amazing; all golden skin and California dreamin'.
He grins at her from his spot leaning on her door frame and straightens up, "I didn't bring you flowers or anythin'. Guess I'm not that much of a date, huh?"
She smiles back, a tugpull at the corner of her lips and chuckles deep in her throat, "I don't mind. I'm not much of a sucker for flowers and candy anyway. Ice-cream gets me."
"Duly noted," he nods as he follows into her apartment.
The living room is bathed in late afternoon winter sun and the room is painted in a cheerful yellow. It feels homely, and he supposes it should be. She lives here all the time, as opposed to when she's just filming.
There's a mural of photos on one wall, pinned casually on a cork-board along with a few fake plastic flowers and one of those cheesy umbrellas you get in gaudy cocktails. There's one of her with a guy who looks astonishingly like her, blonde hair and big grin whom he assumes is her brother. There's a couple of her in the make up chair with garish colors on her cheeks and eyelids, hair sprayed into a huge coif, and quite a few of her with Jason Dohring, Teddy Dunn and a couple other people he recognizes from the show. There are a whole bunch of her with pretty home-town girls and right, smack-bang in the middle, is the one of the two of them that was taken at the last CW event. It's been professionally printed and that makes him grin, that she'd care enough to put the two of them up on the wall. Something warm and gooey slides down his spine.
She pokes him in the middle of his back with a fingernail, and he swings round to face her, his "Dean Winchester - Sex God" grin on his face. He points at the photograph, "You like me that much, huh?"
She shrugs, "It's the only picture I have of you. And you look kinda cute. Until I get another one, it stays."
He can deal with that, and he leads her out of the apartment and into the dying Los Angeles sunshine, "What do you feel like doin' gorgeous? This bein' your neighborhood an all, I figure you can pick."
She grins wide and bounces on the balls of her feet, reminding him of a smaller version of Jared when he's excited, and it makes his heart skip a beat, "You wanna go to Starrbucks and grab a coffee? It's just down the block, and I could really go for a Vanilla Chai Tea."
"You actually drink that crap?" he pulls a face, "I suppose they make plain black, right?"
She shrugs, "Sure. Although you can't really call that coffee. It doesn't even have sugar in it."
"Sugar," he says as he slips her arm through his, "I don't need any more sweetness with you around."
~*~*~*~*~*~
She laughs and he grins right through the whole afternoon as they chat about anything and everything, her teasing him about his Texan accent that slips out when he's feeling relaxed and not on set and he about her vegetarianism, telling her he'll have to take her out for a big, juicy Texas steak.
They end up splitting a pizza and find they both like plain cheese the best. Jensen sinks down on her ancient sofa and thinks idly that he'll never be able to move again. She puts on some terribly cheesy horror movie and he spends the whole time pointing out how the special effects are done as she hides her face in his chest. The smell of raspberry wafts up his nose everytime she moves and he wonders if he's died and gone to heaven.
When the movie ends, she jumps up off the sofa and puts her hands on her hips, flicking long blonde hair that he feels the urge to run his fingers through out of his face, "I hate to kick you out like this but its almost ten and I work in the morning."
He holds out his hands for her to pull him off the sofa and he eases himself up, catching her before she trips over the rug on the floor. He ends up, somehow, with both hands around her soft, small waist and smiling down into her upturned face, "Don't bother me at all. I'll see you tomorrow night, right?"
She nods and he thinks, but isn't sure, that maybe she's stopped breathing, "Yeah. I'll be there with my media face on."
He chuckles and pushes a strand of hair away from her face, feeling the silk between his fingers, "Good. Guess I'll see you then." he replies, still not moving away.
She wraps tiny hands around his neck and stands on her tip-toes, breath ghosting along his lips, "You going to kiss me goodnight?" she asks, almost silently.
He swallows hard and tries to smile as his heart almost crashes its way out of his chest.
She tastes of cherries and cheese, and he can still smell those damned raspberries. Her hair falls through his fingers as he wraps them in the blonde. Lips rub soft against his, insistent, and he can guarantee he's going to need a cold shower when he gets back to his hotel room.
She pulls away and smiles shyly, "Well, now I'm fucked." she tells him softly.
"Yeah," he agrees, still not letting go, "Yeah, me too."