Hold on, what's the rush, what's the rush
Title: Find a Way
Characters: Catty Turner/Sam Winchester
'Verse: squarewarts
Rating: M
Catty pursed her lips, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back against the wall, eyes falling shut as she listened to everyone else talk. She thought back to Lily's face this morning before she left the house, her wide eyes staring up at Catty as she said good-bye, her presence calming even though she knew her mother was leaving. The woman opened her eyes again, watching as Jaina made her way over, hoping to erase the look on her kid's face from her mind, the touch of her husband from her skin even as she went ahead and slid her wedding ring off her finger and into her pocket.
Safe keeping, she had to tell herself when the boss decided that she was needed for a particularly grueling mission.
She assumed this would be the same, the look on Jaina's face enough to confirm it.
“What's up?”
Her partner frowned. “Group of wizards decided to raise some demons. It's a giant mess.”
Catty's eyebrows shot up, an incredulous laugh escaping her. “Seriously? Great. We're going to be out there for days. You know that demon hunting is not the same as tracking some idiot who thought using a curse was funny.”
“That's why we got help.” The way Jaina said it, though, made it obvious that she didn't exactly approve of getting outside help, and the younger woman couldn't help but to grin at that. No matter how old Jaina was, she was always going to be the one who believed in her own power first.
“Help?”
Jaina paused, looking Catty over before jerking her head to the side.
It was a wonder that Catty hadn't noticed him before, actually, but maybe he had only just arrived. It was hard to miss someone that tall, who towered over pretty much everyone else in the room, who still looked like a kicked puppy even at his age. She snorted, smiling softly. His age. He was only six years older than her, and if she was twenty-five, it only made him thirty-one, and...
She shook her head.
Those weren't the sort of thoughts one should have, really. Especially after you were married and had a family.
Old flings weren't allowed to just pop back up. It was a law, wasn't it?
Jaina raised an eyebrow at her, and Catty grinned back, bumping shoulders with the shorter woman. “What?”
“Is this going to be a problem for you?”
More than a fling, her partner reminded her without actually saying the words.
“Sure. It's no big deal,” Catty said casually, her shoulders lifting and falling in a shrug. But the flutter in her stomach when she looked back up and saw Sam staring at her was enough to make her wonder how much of a lie her words were.
She was a professional, though, and she did her job the way it was meant to be done. Sam or not, that wasn't something she was going to allow to get in her way. Part of her hoped that Sam knew it, too.
Jaina stayed by her side while they were briefed over the particulars of this mission, and Catty listened carefully while Sam spoke about what he knew of the demons, her gaze settled on the floor rather than on him, though she could feel his gaze burning into her. Her mind raced wildly.
When had she last seen Sam, anyway?
Her stomach twisted and turned, and she felt sick for a brief second. No, she wasn't going to let this effect her. She was married. She had a kid. Without thought, her eyes moved over him again, thankful that this time he was busy answering a question.
“I can't make you do anything, Catty, but you should at least say something to him,” her friend muttered suddenly, giving her a pointed look before stomping off.
She wished Sakura was there with her, to be a little bit more helpful in this situation. As it was, she waited a little bit longer, hiding behind other people until she could finally sidle her way over to the giant of a man. They stood side by side in awkward silence, not quite looking at each other.
“I heard you got married,” Sam finally said, voice rising high at the end. “Congratulations.”
Catty lifted her head, a half-smile on her lips. “It was a couple of years ago. I sent you an invitation.” She almost wanted to take back those words and not remind him, but that wasn't Catty. Catty was blunt and angry and hurt.
“I...” He looked stuck, like she had backed him into a corner. “There was business to take care. Family business and all.”
“Right.”
She should have just walked away, found Jaina, breathed even.
“Catty.” His hand rested on her shoulder, and she fought back a shiver that wanted to bolt through her body at the simple touch. “I know you're going to insist on going out there, so can you... Could you stick by me, as my partner?”
Her eyebrows shot up, and she nodded wordlessly. A balance, he was reaching for a balance. Between being professional and his feelings, and she wished he didn't have feelings to put onto the scale. Then she could pretend that she didn't have them either, didn't wish that she could squeeze his hand and joke around with him like it was still only a few years ago.
-
They stood outside, keeping watch in their designated area, weighed down by the silence.
“Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?”
The question caught her off guard, and she stared up at him with wide eyes, lips parted as though she had an easy answer to give. She should have, she did, but it didn't seem to exist anymore.
“I don't want it to get damaged or lose it,” Catty finally answered, even as a blush crept up her neck to settle square on her face. She shifted awkwardly, thinning her lips out. “It's in my pocket.”
“Does Ren know you don't wear it?” His voice sounded deeper than she wanted it to sound; emotional and trying.
She glanced up at him. “What do you care if he knows or not, if I'm wearing it or not? Just... Look, we're working, and I just...” She sighed.
He waited a moment, watching her carefully before speaking again. “I miss you. Okay? That's why I want to know. I miss... Forget it, it's not important. You're right. We have a job to do.”
She slid her hand down his arm, feeling the muscles beneath the skin flex to her touch, and a smile quirked at her lips as her eyes flicked up to his face, to his eyes. “Sam.” Her mouth was dry, throat tight as she spoke his name, her voice caressing it in ways she didn't want to. Their fingers touched for a second before she stepped back, fully intending to walk away.
Barely half a step later, he was grabbing her hand tightly, tugging her back to him until she was flush against him, and Catty shivered, weighed down by too much. “Wait.”
“I can't, Sam. We have a job to do...” It was a weak plea, her head tilted until she was looking up at him again.
There was silence from him, and it gave her too much time to think and imagine, her chest tightening, her stomach twisting. If he didn't let her go, she knew exactly what would happen, even as her fingers worked of their own accord, threading with his. “Just for a minute, Catty. I just... Look, I know, and I...”
Her head bowed forward until her face was buried into his chest, breathing in deeply enough to smell him. That scent was still familiar to her, like the outdoors and sorrow and death. She should have felt weirded out that it was turning her on, but she didn't care. Because it was Sam. “Shut up.”
He did, dropping her hand and wrapping his arms tightly around her until the Auror all but disappeared into his embrace. She didn't deserve this, this sort of softness and sense of security, and she had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting from fear and horror and the realization that she was a bad woman. A bad wife. She reached up for him, her fingers digging into the back of his neck as she pulled him down to her, pressing her lips to his roughly in something so far beyond a kiss. Something dark had settled inside of her, wrapping around the fire that burned for this man as he responded all too eagerly. She was bad, and he was terrible, and maybe that was what fueled their need for one another. It was like a flood, spilling over the edges and sweeping everything away, like drowning forever as he backed her into a crumbling wall, teeth and tongues and lips clashing.
Her body responded to his, remembering the feel of him suddenly and with harsh reality, his hands traveling up her thighs and gripping tightly, her back pressed into cold stone. She pulled back first, chest heaving with her panting. His lips touched her forehead, her cheeks, and her body shuddered, eyes falling shut as she told herself to not cry.
“Is this what you want?”
She trembled this time, keeping her eyes closed. “I want you.” She opened them, her hands moving so that she cupped his face. “I don't know if it's enough, Sam. But I've always wanted you.”
Sam stared at her sadly, and Catty let herself go, let herself cry. Why couldn't they work back then? Why couldn't she have kept him, when she loved him and needed him and wanted him? He pressed his forehead to hers, his large hands roaming slowly over her body. “You've had a strange way of showing it.”
“Like you've been much better. Never answered a single damn owl, and I know you got them,” Catty muttered, rolling her eyes and brushing her cheeks with disdain. “I don't want to talk anymore.”
“Talking would make you feel better,” he muttered, watching her carefully.
“I'm tired of talking.” Her hands moved, fingers sliding in under his shirt and reveling in the feel of his abs. So different from Ren, she mused like the horrible person she was, so much more defined with power behind these muscles.
Not like Ren. Ren wasn't power. Ren was stability.
Sam was everything but stability.
“Catty...”
She waited a moment before answering him, nails trailing around his chest now. “We have to be quick, you know. We're not exactly alone here.”
His gaze was dark as he looked her over, hesitating. “And where do we go after that?”
No answer. Catty didn't have time to answer. Her hands dragged his shirt up, eyes roaming over his body while she revealed it. There was sort of a pointless need to remove the item; this wasn't going to be slow and beautiful and time consuming, where they could just revel in each other. But she couldn't help herself and the need to see him. His arms lifted, bending down so that she could remove it completely, and a grin flicked over her lips, thin and taut. He always was such a gentleman. His fingers made quick work of her pants, and it reminded her of the old days, the quickies that were taken before a hunt, before work-just like what they were doing now, really. Her pants pooled around her ankles, caught on the boots she hadn't removed.
“Kiss me.”
He bent again, a grin like her own on his own mouth before it dissolved against her lips. There was less frenzy, something deeper as his fingers twisted around the band of her underwear and slid them down, his lips and tongue and teeth pulling her further into him and them. Her fingers twitched before digging into his hair, whimpering softly. She should have gone for his pants, hurried to get what they both wanted out of the way so that they could move on.
Guilt would eat at her later, perhaps, but for now, it was just Sam. All Sam.
She wasn't aware when he dropped his pants-somewhere around the time that her teeth moved over his earlobe and a twist of desire stabbed through her when she got that familiar groan of his for her efforts, possibly. He lifted her up easily, and he'd always been able to move her as if she were nothing but a doll to him. Ankles locked together, ineffective, her knees clung hard to his waist as his hips involuntarily jerked forward, teasing them both. Her back was pressed to the stone behind her, and his hands gripped her backside.
They paused, almost as one, as they looked at each other. She could see her own questions reflected in his eyes. Should they, could they, why... With little effort, Catty closed her eyes, shutting off her thoughts as her hips moved to grind against him, a soft moan on her lips. It was all he needed before thrusting in to her, and she bit down on her lip to keep from moaning louder and alerting top trained Aurors. He buried his face in the crook of her neck as his hips rocked against hers, her fingers digging into the bare skin of his back.
Catty should have been worried. It wasn't soft, but as they continued to move together, barely making sounds in the silence of the warm night, she knew it wasn't even something she could call fucking.
He found her mouth again in the midst of her thoughts, banishing them from her mind.
“Sam,” she whispered, clinging tightly to him. He bit into her lip gently, hips jerking more frantically. Her head lolled back, pressing against the stone behind her as she gazed up at the sky.
When she began to cry, she rolled with it, riding through that in the same way that she rode through the orgasm that was quick to come, silence crashing in around them. They stayed in their positions, holding on to each other when it was over, his lips sliding over her wet cheeks as he kissed the tears away, and she hated herself just a little bit more for the whole matter.
“You're going to go back home to him,” Sam whispered as he placed her gently back on her feet. Moving stiffly, she bent to pull her underwear and pants back up, not wanting to talk still, knowing that she couldn't avoid it.
“You're going to leave me again,” Catty accused with a hollow voice, unable to pretend that her heart wasn't breaking again. “That's what you're good at, Sam.”
He didn't disagree with her, and she knew that he wouldn't.
“I just want to protect you, Catty.”
And she knew he would say that, too, and maybe that was the problem. She leaned up, kissing him gently. “I know, Sam. But I didn't want you to protect me; I just wanted you to be with me.”
When this was over, she would go home to her family, and she would pretend to be a good wife and mother and friend. And Sam would be nothing but a pipe dream.
Characters: Catty Turner/Sam Winchester
'Verse: squarewarts
Rating: M
Catty pursed her lips, folding her arms across her chest and leaning back against the wall, eyes falling shut as she listened to everyone else talk. She thought back to Lily's face this morning before she left the house, her wide eyes staring up at Catty as she said good-bye, her presence calming even though she knew her mother was leaving. The woman opened her eyes again, watching as Jaina made her way over, hoping to erase the look on her kid's face from her mind, the touch of her husband from her skin even as she went ahead and slid her wedding ring off her finger and into her pocket.
Safe keeping, she had to tell herself when the boss decided that she was needed for a particularly grueling mission.
She assumed this would be the same, the look on Jaina's face enough to confirm it.
“What's up?”
Her partner frowned. “Group of wizards decided to raise some demons. It's a giant mess.”
Catty's eyebrows shot up, an incredulous laugh escaping her. “Seriously? Great. We're going to be out there for days. You know that demon hunting is not the same as tracking some idiot who thought using a curse was funny.”
“That's why we got help.” The way Jaina said it, though, made it obvious that she didn't exactly approve of getting outside help, and the younger woman couldn't help but to grin at that. No matter how old Jaina was, she was always going to be the one who believed in her own power first.
“Help?”
Jaina paused, looking Catty over before jerking her head to the side.
It was a wonder that Catty hadn't noticed him before, actually, but maybe he had only just arrived. It was hard to miss someone that tall, who towered over pretty much everyone else in the room, who still looked like a kicked puppy even at his age. She snorted, smiling softly. His age. He was only six years older than her, and if she was twenty-five, it only made him thirty-one, and...
She shook her head.
Those weren't the sort of thoughts one should have, really. Especially after you were married and had a family.
Old flings weren't allowed to just pop back up. It was a law, wasn't it?
Jaina raised an eyebrow at her, and Catty grinned back, bumping shoulders with the shorter woman. “What?”
“Is this going to be a problem for you?”
More than a fling, her partner reminded her without actually saying the words.
“Sure. It's no big deal,” Catty said casually, her shoulders lifting and falling in a shrug. But the flutter in her stomach when she looked back up and saw Sam staring at her was enough to make her wonder how much of a lie her words were.
She was a professional, though, and she did her job the way it was meant to be done. Sam or not, that wasn't something she was going to allow to get in her way. Part of her hoped that Sam knew it, too.
Jaina stayed by her side while they were briefed over the particulars of this mission, and Catty listened carefully while Sam spoke about what he knew of the demons, her gaze settled on the floor rather than on him, though she could feel his gaze burning into her. Her mind raced wildly.
When had she last seen Sam, anyway?
Her stomach twisted and turned, and she felt sick for a brief second. No, she wasn't going to let this effect her. She was married. She had a kid. Without thought, her eyes moved over him again, thankful that this time he was busy answering a question.
“I can't make you do anything, Catty, but you should at least say something to him,” her friend muttered suddenly, giving her a pointed look before stomping off.
She wished Sakura was there with her, to be a little bit more helpful in this situation. As it was, she waited a little bit longer, hiding behind other people until she could finally sidle her way over to the giant of a man. They stood side by side in awkward silence, not quite looking at each other.
“I heard you got married,” Sam finally said, voice rising high at the end. “Congratulations.”
Catty lifted her head, a half-smile on her lips. “It was a couple of years ago. I sent you an invitation.” She almost wanted to take back those words and not remind him, but that wasn't Catty. Catty was blunt and angry and hurt.
“I...” He looked stuck, like she had backed him into a corner. “There was business to take care. Family business and all.”
“Right.”
She should have just walked away, found Jaina, breathed even.
“Catty.” His hand rested on her shoulder, and she fought back a shiver that wanted to bolt through her body at the simple touch. “I know you're going to insist on going out there, so can you... Could you stick by me, as my partner?”
Her eyebrows shot up, and she nodded wordlessly. A balance, he was reaching for a balance. Between being professional and his feelings, and she wished he didn't have feelings to put onto the scale. Then she could pretend that she didn't have them either, didn't wish that she could squeeze his hand and joke around with him like it was still only a few years ago.
-
They stood outside, keeping watch in their designated area, weighed down by the silence.
“Why aren't you wearing your wedding ring?”
The question caught her off guard, and she stared up at him with wide eyes, lips parted as though she had an easy answer to give. She should have, she did, but it didn't seem to exist anymore.
“I don't want it to get damaged or lose it,” Catty finally answered, even as a blush crept up her neck to settle square on her face. She shifted awkwardly, thinning her lips out. “It's in my pocket.”
“Does Ren know you don't wear it?” His voice sounded deeper than she wanted it to sound; emotional and trying.
She glanced up at him. “What do you care if he knows or not, if I'm wearing it or not? Just... Look, we're working, and I just...” She sighed.
He waited a moment, watching her carefully before speaking again. “I miss you. Okay? That's why I want to know. I miss... Forget it, it's not important. You're right. We have a job to do.”
She slid her hand down his arm, feeling the muscles beneath the skin flex to her touch, and a smile quirked at her lips as her eyes flicked up to his face, to his eyes. “Sam.” Her mouth was dry, throat tight as she spoke his name, her voice caressing it in ways she didn't want to. Their fingers touched for a second before she stepped back, fully intending to walk away.
Barely half a step later, he was grabbing her hand tightly, tugging her back to him until she was flush against him, and Catty shivered, weighed down by too much. “Wait.”
“I can't, Sam. We have a job to do...” It was a weak plea, her head tilted until she was looking up at him again.
There was silence from him, and it gave her too much time to think and imagine, her chest tightening, her stomach twisting. If he didn't let her go, she knew exactly what would happen, even as her fingers worked of their own accord, threading with his. “Just for a minute, Catty. I just... Look, I know, and I...”
Her head bowed forward until her face was buried into his chest, breathing in deeply enough to smell him. That scent was still familiar to her, like the outdoors and sorrow and death. She should have felt weirded out that it was turning her on, but she didn't care. Because it was Sam. “Shut up.”
He did, dropping her hand and wrapping his arms tightly around her until the Auror all but disappeared into his embrace. She didn't deserve this, this sort of softness and sense of security, and she had to swallow hard to keep from vomiting from fear and horror and the realization that she was a bad woman. A bad wife. She reached up for him, her fingers digging into the back of his neck as she pulled him down to her, pressing her lips to his roughly in something so far beyond a kiss. Something dark had settled inside of her, wrapping around the fire that burned for this man as he responded all too eagerly. She was bad, and he was terrible, and maybe that was what fueled their need for one another. It was like a flood, spilling over the edges and sweeping everything away, like drowning forever as he backed her into a crumbling wall, teeth and tongues and lips clashing.
Her body responded to his, remembering the feel of him suddenly and with harsh reality, his hands traveling up her thighs and gripping tightly, her back pressed into cold stone. She pulled back first, chest heaving with her panting. His lips touched her forehead, her cheeks, and her body shuddered, eyes falling shut as she told herself to not cry.
“Is this what you want?”
She trembled this time, keeping her eyes closed. “I want you.” She opened them, her hands moving so that she cupped his face. “I don't know if it's enough, Sam. But I've always wanted you.”
Sam stared at her sadly, and Catty let herself go, let herself cry. Why couldn't they work back then? Why couldn't she have kept him, when she loved him and needed him and wanted him? He pressed his forehead to hers, his large hands roaming slowly over her body. “You've had a strange way of showing it.”
“Like you've been much better. Never answered a single damn owl, and I know you got them,” Catty muttered, rolling her eyes and brushing her cheeks with disdain. “I don't want to talk anymore.”
“Talking would make you feel better,” he muttered, watching her carefully.
“I'm tired of talking.” Her hands moved, fingers sliding in under his shirt and reveling in the feel of his abs. So different from Ren, she mused like the horrible person she was, so much more defined with power behind these muscles.
Not like Ren. Ren wasn't power. Ren was stability.
Sam was everything but stability.
“Catty...”
She waited a moment before answering him, nails trailing around his chest now. “We have to be quick, you know. We're not exactly alone here.”
His gaze was dark as he looked her over, hesitating. “And where do we go after that?”
No answer. Catty didn't have time to answer. Her hands dragged his shirt up, eyes roaming over his body while she revealed it. There was sort of a pointless need to remove the item; this wasn't going to be slow and beautiful and time consuming, where they could just revel in each other. But she couldn't help herself and the need to see him. His arms lifted, bending down so that she could remove it completely, and a grin flicked over her lips, thin and taut. He always was such a gentleman. His fingers made quick work of her pants, and it reminded her of the old days, the quickies that were taken before a hunt, before work-just like what they were doing now, really. Her pants pooled around her ankles, caught on the boots she hadn't removed.
“Kiss me.”
He bent again, a grin like her own on his own mouth before it dissolved against her lips. There was less frenzy, something deeper as his fingers twisted around the band of her underwear and slid them down, his lips and tongue and teeth pulling her further into him and them. Her fingers twitched before digging into his hair, whimpering softly. She should have gone for his pants, hurried to get what they both wanted out of the way so that they could move on.
Guilt would eat at her later, perhaps, but for now, it was just Sam. All Sam.
She wasn't aware when he dropped his pants-somewhere around the time that her teeth moved over his earlobe and a twist of desire stabbed through her when she got that familiar groan of his for her efforts, possibly. He lifted her up easily, and he'd always been able to move her as if she were nothing but a doll to him. Ankles locked together, ineffective, her knees clung hard to his waist as his hips involuntarily jerked forward, teasing them both. Her back was pressed to the stone behind her, and his hands gripped her backside.
They paused, almost as one, as they looked at each other. She could see her own questions reflected in his eyes. Should they, could they, why... With little effort, Catty closed her eyes, shutting off her thoughts as her hips moved to grind against him, a soft moan on her lips. It was all he needed before thrusting in to her, and she bit down on her lip to keep from moaning louder and alerting top trained Aurors. He buried his face in the crook of her neck as his hips rocked against hers, her fingers digging into the bare skin of his back.
Catty should have been worried. It wasn't soft, but as they continued to move together, barely making sounds in the silence of the warm night, she knew it wasn't even something she could call fucking.
He found her mouth again in the midst of her thoughts, banishing them from her mind.
“Sam,” she whispered, clinging tightly to him. He bit into her lip gently, hips jerking more frantically. Her head lolled back, pressing against the stone behind her as she gazed up at the sky.
When she began to cry, she rolled with it, riding through that in the same way that she rode through the orgasm that was quick to come, silence crashing in around them. They stayed in their positions, holding on to each other when it was over, his lips sliding over her wet cheeks as he kissed the tears away, and she hated herself just a little bit more for the whole matter.
“You're going to go back home to him,” Sam whispered as he placed her gently back on her feet. Moving stiffly, she bent to pull her underwear and pants back up, not wanting to talk still, knowing that she couldn't avoid it.
“You're going to leave me again,” Catty accused with a hollow voice, unable to pretend that her heart wasn't breaking again. “That's what you're good at, Sam.”
He didn't disagree with her, and she knew that he wouldn't.
“I just want to protect you, Catty.”
And she knew he would say that, too, and maybe that was the problem. She leaned up, kissing him gently. “I know, Sam. But I didn't want you to protect me; I just wanted you to be with me.”
When this was over, she would go home to her family, and she would pretend to be a good wife and mother and friend. And Sam would be nothing but a pipe dream.