Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Fiction WIRTD01- Wake-up Call

Series Title: What If...
Fiction Title: Racing Towards Destiny
Chapter Title: Wake-up Call
Author: Restive Nature
Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.
Story Rating: PG-13 to NC-17
Chapter Rating: PG-15
Genre: Crossover
Type: Romance, Angst
Pairing: ?/ Max
Summary: One dream set her on a path of destiny.
Spoilers/ Timeline: This story would begin in Chapter 17- Coming Of Age, when Max had her first Heat dream.
Feedback: Always welcome!
Distribution: Ask first, please

A/N: This story, while being in the same universe as WiC, does not actually occur within that storyline. This fiction is just an off-shoot of what might have happened.

Chapter One

Wake-up Call

Max tried to read over what she had just written, but the words made no sense. They swam and blurred before her eyes. She heaved a sigh, fidgeting in her seat. Wearily she raked a hand through her sweat damped curls. She glanced over at the radiator, sweetly silent. How then, if the heat wasn’t on, was she so overheated? She felt something nudge her leg and lost her train of thought. Her eyes were fixated on the jean clad leg that was pressed against her knee as she sat cross-legged on the sofa. The leg jiggled again, perhaps naturally agitated from having sat still for so long.

The assignment that Max had been working on fled her mind as she stared at his leg. They really were very nice legs, having seen them when he was moving around in the morning, or at night before bed. Once or twice when he had kicked off the covers on the bed or left his thigh exposed. Muscular with a tantalizing sprinkle of hair. Max sucked in her lower lip, chewing on it as her breath came erratically. In her mind's eye, she traveled up his body, the bed covers pushed down to his waist, his chest misted with a fine sheen of sweat, his usual t-shirt discarded because of the heat.

His leg jiggled again and her concentration broke. This time however, feeling a blush creep into her cheeks, her eyes darted to his face. She was stunned by the impish smirk he leveled at her. Her heartbeat picked up, her breathing was even more ragged. Deliberately, he bumped her leg again, his smirk softening to a gentle, inquiring smile. Max’s lips curved into a grin of their own and she nudged him back. The book in his hands was dropped carelessly to the side and he reached up to trace a tendril of hair that curled its way down her cheek. He waited just a fraction of a second before sliding his hand into her hair, cupping the nape of her neck. She swayed towards him and then his other hand followed the first and then his lips were upon hers.

Max felt her insides shiver at the first electrical contact. His lips were smooth and warm and pliant upon hers. Her eyes drifted shut and her hands came up to grasp his forearms. Slowly, he brushed his mouth back and forth against her, making her flesh tingle. And then his left hand moved back and she could feel his fingers tracing her jaw. At the same time, his tongue had darted out, running against the inner contour of her upper lip. Max tried to stifle the unexpected gasp, but it came anyway. He used it to his advantage, sliding his tongue into the cavern of her mouth. Intrigued, she responded in kind, moving into him. He tasted of peppermint, hot, sweet and spicy. Her heartbeat picked up even more as her world narrowed to this small focal point. Nothing existed beyond the sofa they were seated on as his mouth slanted over hers, his hands moving to her back. Their kiss did not break as he slid one hand down, catching her thigh and tugging forward. Knowing what he wanted, wanting it too, Max shifted her legs, leaning forward to untangle from her seated position. She managed to finally swing her leg over his lap.

She settled herself lightly; the knowledge of what was coming was hovering tantalizingly in the corner of her mind. But he knew exactly what he wanted. Breaking off their kiss, his hands still at her hips, he stared at her, her new position putting them on a fairly equal footing, height wise. He grinned again and pulled her hips forward.

The contact was unanticipated, but Max had no trouble discerning the bulge that was pressing against the inside of her thigh. Eyes widening with delight, she wriggled and he groaned. His hips thrust upwards, just scant, bare inches, but the contact against her was enough to make her echo his frustrated sentiment. Shifting again, Max leaned into another kiss, while his hands pulled at her hips, demanding closeness. Max grabbed at his shoulders, wanting and needing, running on instinct. Her head fell back as she felt him cup her still burgeoning breasts. Her nipples tightened and she groaned again. His lips nibbled down the pale column of her throat as he whispered huskily, “God I want you so bad Max.”

Her answer was immediate. “Oh yes. Yes Sam!”

*****                               

Max hid herself away in the bathroom. The Winchester males were finishing off the pizza that Dean and Sam had brought back. She hadn’t been hungry and had picked at the slice John had given her. When she had finally pushed it away and excused herself, John had given her a sympathetic smile and made no protest. Thinking of him made her recall the words that he’d spoken to her earlier. What had happened, her dream, it had been no big deal. That had been a relief. But still, to think of Sammy that way! Of course, maybe it had sort of made sense. Especially with the way John had been explaining. Her body was changing. So was Sam’s. She’d noticed that. He’d rapidly lost that last vestige of childhood pudge that she’d noticed on some other kids around their age. And he’d had a growth spurt again. And ever since they’d stopped attending public school, they weren’t spending so much of their time being inactive. They were out and about, constantly doing things. And whenever he could, Dean had taken them to YMCA’s, local gyms and the like to work on their fighting skills. When that wasn’t available, he’d take them swimming. It was nothing like back at Manticore and Max found that she enjoyed it. Even doing the required laps that Dean wanted before he allowed them some down time wasn’t so bad.

Max, as she began to run water for a bath, remembered the last time they’d gone swimming. They’d persuaded John to join them. He hadn’t really wanted to, but Dean had appealed to his competitive nature by bragging that any one of them could beat John in a race. John had given in and thought it over very carefully. He knew from watching them previously, that Max was at home in the water as anywhere else. He always teased her after swimming that she must be part fish or dolphin. And Sam, still in that male adolescent, gangly, awkward phase, had found his grace in the water. His long legs were a bonus. So therefore, John had challenged Dean, figuring that they would be more evenly matched. They had the similar build of body and good endurance. In the end, Dean had won, but only by the span of an arm, which John laughingly had attributed to Dean’s more recent bouts of practice.

That had been a fun day, Max had mused. The boys had teased John about his outdated swimming trunks, causing him to blush. They had teased Dean about getting distracted by all the pretty girls. They had enjoyed watching a lifeguard sucking in his gut every time a certain lady was close by. The boys noted in an aside that their father was over twice that guy’s age and had a much better physique and that if they ever got that way, to shoot them.

Max pondered that for a moment as she disrobed and slipped into the warm water. Undeniably, all three Winchester’s were in good shape. For ordinary guys, that was. And Max had noticed women noticing them. There were soft looks and appreciative stares, even when Dean and John were at their roughest, with messy hair, gravelly voices and five o’clock shadows. She chewed at the corner of her lip. What was it that had made her dream about Sam and not them? It had to be proximity. They were the only males lately that she knew well. But why Sam?

Maybe as John had said, it all had to do with the natural changes in their bodies. And Dean and John hadn’t changed since she’d met them. But Sam had. He’d changed a lot, emerging from his boyhood phase, now a young man with a more defined musculature and feature that were seeming to become more adult than they should be. Max blushed as she realized that once again, she was thinking about Sam more than she ought to. Max sighed. There was only one thing she could do. Chalk it all up to emerging hormones and just put this thing out of her mind.




RTD02- Occupational Hazard

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