Gilmore fic, barefoot, R
Gilmore fic. Written as an experiment really, to have a go at another fandom. Also because jwynn wrote hot Lorelai Gilmore/Dean Forester, that starts
here and I wanted to have a go myself.
**
Title: Barefoot
Pairing: Lorelai Gilmore/Dean Forester
Rating: R
Warning: It’s an excuse for smut
Summary: Lorelai is drunk and feeling sorry for herself. Post series six, so spoilers for Partings
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters
dakotas-tale kindly beta’d this for me.
Lorelai downed the punch, emptying the glass and holding it upside down, letting the last drops fall onto her hand. It was a hot night, and she shifted her hand, letting the cool liquid slide over the back of it. Watching the droplets slip and slide she frowned, “number…” unable to remember. She looked around her at the merriment. The whole town was enjoying the Summer Fayre. Taylor was shouting at a few small children who were waving a hose at each other, trying to cool down. A few people were dancing to the music coming from a small stereo.
Lorelai sighed when she looked back at her empty glass. “Empty’s not good,” she said, to no one in particular. To no one because she was with no one, and that’s my fault she reminded herself.
Lorelai slipped her feet out of her sandals, stretching her bare feet out in front of her. She dug her feet into the unyielding hard floor, and pressed her toes firmly into it. She was on the seat on the gazebo, taking it up with her sorrow. A couple hovered nearby, evidently wanting to come up but not daring to. They didn’t even try and intrude on her solitude. She stood up, leaving her shoes behind her, letting the couple have their happiness. She padded in bare feet over to the punchbowl. Miss Patty smiled at her.
“I think maybe you’ve had enough,” she said, watching Lorelai closely as she took another.
“Shhh,” Lorelai said, waving her hand in the air, waving the glass toward Miss Patty. Perhaps if she drank it, she’d feel cool again. Perhaps if she drank it, she’d feel numb again.
“Lorelai, where are your shoes?” Sookie came toward her, looking concerned.
“Sookie.” Lorelai draped an arm over her. “My friend. I am shoeless. Free of shoe. I’ve decided, I’m never going to wear shoes again. Think of the money I’ll save. I can spend it adopting a small child, like Angelina Jolie. Perhaps she’d like my shoes.” She was rambling, but that was nothing new. Sookie didn’t answer her.
“I think she’s had too much of my punch. It’s lethal stuff.” Miss Patty laughed from somewhere behind Lorelai.
“Punch. It packs a punch alright. Pow,” Lorelai said. She made a vague punch gesture with her hand, but only ended up hitting a guy next to her. A tall guy. She frowned as he turned toward her. “Dean!” Lorelai was delighted. She felt Dean move and take one side of her, heard a whispered conversation between Dean and Sookie, but paid no attention. She focussed on the man next to her. “Dean,” Lorelai said again, adding, “you’re my friend, aren’t you Dean?”
“Of course Lorelai,” Dean said softly, and he and Sookie seemed to be guiding her, somewhere. Away from the friendly punch. Away from the happy numb feeling. Her glass had also disappeared somehow. She vaguely tried to struggle, but Dean’s arm tightened around her waist.
“You don’t judge me, you understand don’t you Dean?” He didn’t reply, and Lorelai thought maybe he didn’t understand what she was getting at. “’Cause you, you slept with Rory while you were married. Luke and I weren’t even married. He wasn’t going to marry me. You understand?” Dean stiffened at her side, and Lorelai thought maybe she’d insulted him. “Sorry, I…”
“It’s okay, Lorelai. It’s fine,” Dean said. “Sookie, I’ve got her, go to Jackson.”
Lorelai looked up, saw Sookie wander off toward a worried Jackson. “Is everything okay, why, Jackson worried?” Damn, she hated it when words escaped her. It didn’t happen often.
“Davy’s got a temperature,” Dean said, and how did he know that? Why didn’t Lorelai know that? She hadn’t been listening to Sookie earlier, distracted by Sightings of Luke. Lorelai clutched onto Dean’s waist as she stumbled, her bare feet cutting on a stone. Making her feet bleed, making them sore.
“Where are your shoes?”
“Lost in the line of fire,” Lorelai said, explaining, “they took a few blows, but they went down fighting. Lived a glorious life.”
“Oh yeah?” Dean sounded vaguely amused. “Did you have a memorial service?”
“Of course. We are gathered here to celebrate the most beautiful pair of pink pumps. They served their master well, were happy to die… where are my shoes? I want those shoes back,” she said it plaintively. “I can’t cope without my shoes.”
“I know,” Dean said. “Shoes are important.” They were at her door now. “Want me to go back and get them?” He moved his arm away from her. Lorelai clutched onto it.
“No. Don’t go. You stay even if my shoes won’t.”
“Lorelai…” Dean hesitated. “Where’s your key?” Lorelai handed over her bag to him, and watched him hunt through her tiny bag with his big hands. Hands that enveloped it, but went dextrously through it. She idly thought about what else those hands could do. He looked up, caught her eye and she flushed. She didn’t say that out loud, did she? He was still Rory’s Dean, even if Rory didn’t want him.
“Here.” Dean smiled. He kept the bag in his hand as he unlocked the door, standing aside to let Lorelai through. She walked in, and he hesitated in the doorway.
“Come in, Dean.”
“I should get back. If you’re okay,” Dean said, but he didn’t move. He handed the bag to her and she took it loosely, letting it fall to the floor by her feet.
“Okay. Right. I’m swell, grand.” Lorelai paused, but the words carried on rushing out of her in a torrent. “Luke’s gone, and Chris won’t speak to me, but I’m fine. Rory, she still speaks to me, but she’s busy. Always busy. I’m just meant to be alone. The cats will start coming back soon, you wait and see.”
Lorelai tried to stop the tears from falling, but couldn’t help it. Strong arms enveloped her, and he pulled her into a hug. Lorelai heard a door slam behind her, and Dean pressed her tight against him, comforting, gentle. She lost herself in the feel of his arms, hating that she needed someone else to make her feel better. He hugged her for a long time, and Lorelai calmed down, her tears subsiding. She left her face pressed into the crook of his neck. He smelled good, she realized, of mint and beer and lust. That dangerous thought made her pull away from him.
“It’s okay, Lorelai. It’ll be okay,” he was muttering into her hair. “I’m okay aren’t I?”
“Yes.” Lorelai looked up at him. “I never. About Rory…”
“It’s okay. She didn’t feel about me like I did about her.” He stated it, as if it was a fact like the earth revolves around the sun, didn’t you know?
Lorelai didn’t argue with him. She knew she should let him go, but he felt so good. She’d let herself have the peace, just for a minute. She rested her head on his chest, trying not to think about what a nice chest it was. She shouldn’t be having thoughts like that. She was drunk enough to run her hands over his back without thinking about it. His tee was soaked in sweat from the hot night, and she could feel the curve of his back underneath it. It felt like she was touching his skin. She wasn’t so drunk that it didn’t feel pleasurable. She felt Dean tense his whole body at her touch, move his hands to her waist.
“Lorelai?” he sounded confused, and she pulled back. Her apology died on her lips as she looked up at him and saw the same hunger in his eyes. She used to see flashes of the man he’d become; moments would pass and she wouldn’t notice he was a child, her daughter’s boyfriend, she’d see him as an equal. She’d catch him looking at her, in a way that he shouldn’t, and would pretend she didn’t notice. Now she saw that look again, and saw no flashes of the child. He’d turned into all man, somehow, at some point, without announcing it to anybody.
Dean didn’t move his hands from her waist, and he stroked her hipbone with one thumb repeatedly. She felt the touch of it burning through her thin dress.
“Lorelai, “ he said, and it wasn’t questioning, it fell from his lips with his breath, reassuring her of her presence, of her place in the world. She looked into his eyes, and he moved his face hesitantly toward her. She moved her face up, stretching her feet on the warm soft carpet, pushing down into it, moving herself to meet his height. He closed the gap quickly.
His tongue probed between her lips, drove out any doubt from her mind, any thoughts that this was wrong, as it moved into her mouth. She opened her mouth widely to accept it, kissing him back hungrily, and massaging his tongue with her own. His hands encircled her waist now, pulling at the back of her dress as if searching for the buttons. One hand brushed over the zipper, and she moaned into his mouth. He hesitated, trailed his hand up and down the zipper, but didn’t open it, tormenting her with the promise of it. He went to pull away, but she reached for his neck, kept his face on hers. She grabbed his ass with her other hand, pressed him firmly against her.
Somewhere, her mind registered, I’m grabbing Dean’s ass, but he was grabbing her ass now, and she pressed against his hardening erection, and all thoughts fled from her mind. She moved her hand to the front of his tee, balled her fist into it, and pulled. He pushed as she pulled, and they stumbled through the hall, half tripping on discarded shoes that Paul Anka had lined up there. He started to undo her zipper as they went, and they ended up next to her couch, her dress half hanging off her shoulders. Their mouths parted, and Dean’s hand stilled on the strap of her dress. He looked at her with those earnest eyes, that serious expression. She reached up, brushing one hand with his as she helped him push it off her shoulders, reassuring him that she wanted this. He smiled gently at her.
Lorelai kept her eyes locked with Dean’s as she reached for his tee. She pulled it up over his head, and went to reach for his jeans, but he was impatient. He crushed his mouth back onto hers, pushed her down onto the couch and she went willingly.
The night was still hot, and his chest was dripping with sweat. He took off her bra quickly, reaching a hand to her breast, and flipping her nipple with one finger. Lorelai ran her fingers over his back as he did so, scratching her nails down his spine. He dipped down, and licked the sweat pooling between her breasts before taking a now hard nipple in his mouth. She stopped what she was doing, flailing her hands as she revelled in the feel of his mouth on her. He wasn’t at all hesitant or unsure. He sucked her breasts alternately for a while, and she moaned softly in appreciation. She felt a large hand slide over her stomach, slip through the sweat and reach her panties. He started to tug her underwear down, and impatiently, she took the opportunity to reach for his jeans. She unsnapped them, undoing the zipper with a sound that reverberated in her ears. She immediately pulled his boxers down.
All contact stopped while they wriggled out of both, but soon they were both completely naked, lying flat along the couch, both their feet hanging off the end. His young body stretched out over her, burning her from every millimetre. Her feet mingled with his, and her hands caressed his back. His mouth moved back on her nipple, and a hand stroked her inner thigh teasingly, his cock pressing against her, next to it. She moved down his back to clutch his bare ass with her hands. Sweat soaked body brushed against sweat soaked body. Heat from the air, and heat from his mouth and hands seared through her. She focussed only on sensation; on someone wanting her, on fulfilling the need that coursed through her. She wanted him inside her now.
“Do you have...” she started. He nodded, fumbled in his discarded Jeans pocket, and brought back a foil packet. She took it from him. There was no thought about the right or wrong, she wanted him and he was here, with her, and that’s all that mattered.
She took his cock in her hand, and slowly rolled the condom on. He looked into her eyes, and she gave a small nod as he entered her. She grabbed his ass again and pushed him deep inside her, feeling completely filled by him. As he thrust repeatedly into her she heard herself cry out his name, but it came from somewhere outside herself. She bucked and writhed underneath him until she felt her own orgasm build, and the waves of pleasure course through her. He came moments after, shouting her name.
Afterwards, he shifted off her, sat next to her and put his head in his hands.
“Dean?” Lorelai sat up, sat next to him, bare feet digging into the comforting carpet. She pressed into it as if it would help root her back in reality.
“Lorelai, I didn’t plan this, I...” He was staring at his bare feet, rubbing his toes against each other. He looked up at her suddenly, gazing directly into her eyes. “I don’t want to have taken advantage of a drunk woman.”
“Dean.” Lorelai laughed. “Dean, I’m the one who would have been taking advantage of you. I’ve got a few years on you.”
“Not that many,” Dean said, adding hungrily, “I wanted this.”
“Me too,” Lorelai said. She raised a hand, stopping his next words. “Let’s, not.”
He nodded. He put an arm around her, hugged her. “I could kill for a coffee,” she mumbled into his neck.
“In this weather?” He smiled. “You may as well just get a coffee blood transfusion.”
“It would save time in the morning,” Lorelai agreed. She went to get up but he stilled her with a wave of his hand, and she watched him walk naked into her kitchen. Lorelai took a breath, glad to have air, to focus her thoughts before heading back to Dean to have them muddled again.
The house phone rang and Lorelai let it. It was Sookie.
“Lorelai. Sorry I had to go, Davy had a temperature, Davy it’s ok, Mommy’s here… I wanted to make sure you got home. I’m sure Dean got you there. He’s a good boy. Call me tomorrow.”
He certainly is, Lorelai thought to herself, as she padded into the kitchen to find him, the ground firm beneath her feet.
**
That’s it. All thoughts welcome, especially as something non Supernatural is new to me!
here and I wanted to have a go myself.
**
Title: Barefoot
Pairing: Lorelai Gilmore/Dean Forester
Rating: R
Warning: It’s an excuse for smut
Summary: Lorelai is drunk and feeling sorry for herself. Post series six, so spoilers for Partings
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters
dakotas-tale kindly beta’d this for me.
Lorelai downed the punch, emptying the glass and holding it upside down, letting the last drops fall onto her hand. It was a hot night, and she shifted her hand, letting the cool liquid slide over the back of it. Watching the droplets slip and slide she frowned, “number…” unable to remember. She looked around her at the merriment. The whole town was enjoying the Summer Fayre. Taylor was shouting at a few small children who were waving a hose at each other, trying to cool down. A few people were dancing to the music coming from a small stereo.
Lorelai sighed when she looked back at her empty glass. “Empty’s not good,” she said, to no one in particular. To no one because she was with no one, and that’s my fault she reminded herself.
Lorelai slipped her feet out of her sandals, stretching her bare feet out in front of her. She dug her feet into the unyielding hard floor, and pressed her toes firmly into it. She was on the seat on the gazebo, taking it up with her sorrow. A couple hovered nearby, evidently wanting to come up but not daring to. They didn’t even try and intrude on her solitude. She stood up, leaving her shoes behind her, letting the couple have their happiness. She padded in bare feet over to the punchbowl. Miss Patty smiled at her.
“I think maybe you’ve had enough,” she said, watching Lorelai closely as she took another.
“Shhh,” Lorelai said, waving her hand in the air, waving the glass toward Miss Patty. Perhaps if she drank it, she’d feel cool again. Perhaps if she drank it, she’d feel numb again.
“Lorelai, where are your shoes?” Sookie came toward her, looking concerned.
“Sookie.” Lorelai draped an arm over her. “My friend. I am shoeless. Free of shoe. I’ve decided, I’m never going to wear shoes again. Think of the money I’ll save. I can spend it adopting a small child, like Angelina Jolie. Perhaps she’d like my shoes.” She was rambling, but that was nothing new. Sookie didn’t answer her.
“I think she’s had too much of my punch. It’s lethal stuff.” Miss Patty laughed from somewhere behind Lorelai.
“Punch. It packs a punch alright. Pow,” Lorelai said. She made a vague punch gesture with her hand, but only ended up hitting a guy next to her. A tall guy. She frowned as he turned toward her. “Dean!” Lorelai was delighted. She felt Dean move and take one side of her, heard a whispered conversation between Dean and Sookie, but paid no attention. She focussed on the man next to her. “Dean,” Lorelai said again, adding, “you’re my friend, aren’t you Dean?”
“Of course Lorelai,” Dean said softly, and he and Sookie seemed to be guiding her, somewhere. Away from the friendly punch. Away from the happy numb feeling. Her glass had also disappeared somehow. She vaguely tried to struggle, but Dean’s arm tightened around her waist.
“You don’t judge me, you understand don’t you Dean?” He didn’t reply, and Lorelai thought maybe he didn’t understand what she was getting at. “’Cause you, you slept with Rory while you were married. Luke and I weren’t even married. He wasn’t going to marry me. You understand?” Dean stiffened at her side, and Lorelai thought maybe she’d insulted him. “Sorry, I…”
“It’s okay, Lorelai. It’s fine,” Dean said. “Sookie, I’ve got her, go to Jackson.”
Lorelai looked up, saw Sookie wander off toward a worried Jackson. “Is everything okay, why, Jackson worried?” Damn, she hated it when words escaped her. It didn’t happen often.
“Davy’s got a temperature,” Dean said, and how did he know that? Why didn’t Lorelai know that? She hadn’t been listening to Sookie earlier, distracted by Sightings of Luke. Lorelai clutched onto Dean’s waist as she stumbled, her bare feet cutting on a stone. Making her feet bleed, making them sore.
“Where are your shoes?”
“Lost in the line of fire,” Lorelai said, explaining, “they took a few blows, but they went down fighting. Lived a glorious life.”
“Oh yeah?” Dean sounded vaguely amused. “Did you have a memorial service?”
“Of course. We are gathered here to celebrate the most beautiful pair of pink pumps. They served their master well, were happy to die… where are my shoes? I want those shoes back,” she said it plaintively. “I can’t cope without my shoes.”
“I know,” Dean said. “Shoes are important.” They were at her door now. “Want me to go back and get them?” He moved his arm away from her. Lorelai clutched onto it.
“No. Don’t go. You stay even if my shoes won’t.”
“Lorelai…” Dean hesitated. “Where’s your key?” Lorelai handed over her bag to him, and watched him hunt through her tiny bag with his big hands. Hands that enveloped it, but went dextrously through it. She idly thought about what else those hands could do. He looked up, caught her eye and she flushed. She didn’t say that out loud, did she? He was still Rory’s Dean, even if Rory didn’t want him.
“Here.” Dean smiled. He kept the bag in his hand as he unlocked the door, standing aside to let Lorelai through. She walked in, and he hesitated in the doorway.
“Come in, Dean.”
“I should get back. If you’re okay,” Dean said, but he didn’t move. He handed the bag to her and she took it loosely, letting it fall to the floor by her feet.
“Okay. Right. I’m swell, grand.” Lorelai paused, but the words carried on rushing out of her in a torrent. “Luke’s gone, and Chris won’t speak to me, but I’m fine. Rory, she still speaks to me, but she’s busy. Always busy. I’m just meant to be alone. The cats will start coming back soon, you wait and see.”
Lorelai tried to stop the tears from falling, but couldn’t help it. Strong arms enveloped her, and he pulled her into a hug. Lorelai heard a door slam behind her, and Dean pressed her tight against him, comforting, gentle. She lost herself in the feel of his arms, hating that she needed someone else to make her feel better. He hugged her for a long time, and Lorelai calmed down, her tears subsiding. She left her face pressed into the crook of his neck. He smelled good, she realized, of mint and beer and lust. That dangerous thought made her pull away from him.
“It’s okay, Lorelai. It’ll be okay,” he was muttering into her hair. “I’m okay aren’t I?”
“Yes.” Lorelai looked up at him. “I never. About Rory…”
“It’s okay. She didn’t feel about me like I did about her.” He stated it, as if it was a fact like the earth revolves around the sun, didn’t you know?
Lorelai didn’t argue with him. She knew she should let him go, but he felt so good. She’d let herself have the peace, just for a minute. She rested her head on his chest, trying not to think about what a nice chest it was. She shouldn’t be having thoughts like that. She was drunk enough to run her hands over his back without thinking about it. His tee was soaked in sweat from the hot night, and she could feel the curve of his back underneath it. It felt like she was touching his skin. She wasn’t so drunk that it didn’t feel pleasurable. She felt Dean tense his whole body at her touch, move his hands to her waist.
“Lorelai?” he sounded confused, and she pulled back. Her apology died on her lips as she looked up at him and saw the same hunger in his eyes. She used to see flashes of the man he’d become; moments would pass and she wouldn’t notice he was a child, her daughter’s boyfriend, she’d see him as an equal. She’d catch him looking at her, in a way that he shouldn’t, and would pretend she didn’t notice. Now she saw that look again, and saw no flashes of the child. He’d turned into all man, somehow, at some point, without announcing it to anybody.
Dean didn’t move his hands from her waist, and he stroked her hipbone with one thumb repeatedly. She felt the touch of it burning through her thin dress.
“Lorelai, “ he said, and it wasn’t questioning, it fell from his lips with his breath, reassuring her of her presence, of her place in the world. She looked into his eyes, and he moved his face hesitantly toward her. She moved her face up, stretching her feet on the warm soft carpet, pushing down into it, moving herself to meet his height. He closed the gap quickly.
His tongue probed between her lips, drove out any doubt from her mind, any thoughts that this was wrong, as it moved into her mouth. She opened her mouth widely to accept it, kissing him back hungrily, and massaging his tongue with her own. His hands encircled her waist now, pulling at the back of her dress as if searching for the buttons. One hand brushed over the zipper, and she moaned into his mouth. He hesitated, trailed his hand up and down the zipper, but didn’t open it, tormenting her with the promise of it. He went to pull away, but she reached for his neck, kept his face on hers. She grabbed his ass with her other hand, pressed him firmly against her.
Somewhere, her mind registered, I’m grabbing Dean’s ass, but he was grabbing her ass now, and she pressed against his hardening erection, and all thoughts fled from her mind. She moved her hand to the front of his tee, balled her fist into it, and pulled. He pushed as she pulled, and they stumbled through the hall, half tripping on discarded shoes that Paul Anka had lined up there. He started to undo her zipper as they went, and they ended up next to her couch, her dress half hanging off her shoulders. Their mouths parted, and Dean’s hand stilled on the strap of her dress. He looked at her with those earnest eyes, that serious expression. She reached up, brushing one hand with his as she helped him push it off her shoulders, reassuring him that she wanted this. He smiled gently at her.
Lorelai kept her eyes locked with Dean’s as she reached for his tee. She pulled it up over his head, and went to reach for his jeans, but he was impatient. He crushed his mouth back onto hers, pushed her down onto the couch and she went willingly.
The night was still hot, and his chest was dripping with sweat. He took off her bra quickly, reaching a hand to her breast, and flipping her nipple with one finger. Lorelai ran her fingers over his back as he did so, scratching her nails down his spine. He dipped down, and licked the sweat pooling between her breasts before taking a now hard nipple in his mouth. She stopped what she was doing, flailing her hands as she revelled in the feel of his mouth on her. He wasn’t at all hesitant or unsure. He sucked her breasts alternately for a while, and she moaned softly in appreciation. She felt a large hand slide over her stomach, slip through the sweat and reach her panties. He started to tug her underwear down, and impatiently, she took the opportunity to reach for his jeans. She unsnapped them, undoing the zipper with a sound that reverberated in her ears. She immediately pulled his boxers down.
All contact stopped while they wriggled out of both, but soon they were both completely naked, lying flat along the couch, both their feet hanging off the end. His young body stretched out over her, burning her from every millimetre. Her feet mingled with his, and her hands caressed his back. His mouth moved back on her nipple, and a hand stroked her inner thigh teasingly, his cock pressing against her, next to it. She moved down his back to clutch his bare ass with her hands. Sweat soaked body brushed against sweat soaked body. Heat from the air, and heat from his mouth and hands seared through her. She focussed only on sensation; on someone wanting her, on fulfilling the need that coursed through her. She wanted him inside her now.
“Do you have...” she started. He nodded, fumbled in his discarded Jeans pocket, and brought back a foil packet. She took it from him. There was no thought about the right or wrong, she wanted him and he was here, with her, and that’s all that mattered.
She took his cock in her hand, and slowly rolled the condom on. He looked into her eyes, and she gave a small nod as he entered her. She grabbed his ass again and pushed him deep inside her, feeling completely filled by him. As he thrust repeatedly into her she heard herself cry out his name, but it came from somewhere outside herself. She bucked and writhed underneath him until she felt her own orgasm build, and the waves of pleasure course through her. He came moments after, shouting her name.
Afterwards, he shifted off her, sat next to her and put his head in his hands.
“Dean?” Lorelai sat up, sat next to him, bare feet digging into the comforting carpet. She pressed into it as if it would help root her back in reality.
“Lorelai, I didn’t plan this, I...” He was staring at his bare feet, rubbing his toes against each other. He looked up at her suddenly, gazing directly into her eyes. “I don’t want to have taken advantage of a drunk woman.”
“Dean.” Lorelai laughed. “Dean, I’m the one who would have been taking advantage of you. I’ve got a few years on you.”
“Not that many,” Dean said, adding hungrily, “I wanted this.”
“Me too,” Lorelai said. She raised a hand, stopping his next words. “Let’s, not.”
He nodded. He put an arm around her, hugged her. “I could kill for a coffee,” she mumbled into his neck.
“In this weather?” He smiled. “You may as well just get a coffee blood transfusion.”
“It would save time in the morning,” Lorelai agreed. She went to get up but he stilled her with a wave of his hand, and she watched him walk naked into her kitchen. Lorelai took a breath, glad to have air, to focus her thoughts before heading back to Dean to have them muddled again.
The house phone rang and Lorelai let it. It was Sookie.
“Lorelai. Sorry I had to go, Davy had a temperature, Davy it’s ok, Mommy’s here… I wanted to make sure you got home. I’m sure Dean got you there. He’s a good boy. Call me tomorrow.”
He certainly is, Lorelai thought to herself, as she padded into the kitchen to find him, the ground firm beneath her feet.
**
That’s it. All thoughts welcome, especially as something non Supernatural is new to me!