Chapter Seven

Martha

It occurred to her several times during the two and half hour drive to ask where the hell they were going. They’d passed seven—no, eight pubs now, with no comment from Dean or Bobby as they moved on. And of course, her being herself, she wanted to ask—no needed to ask once again what the hell was going on. The words were on the tip of her tongue actually. Until she caught a glimpse of grin pulling at the corners of Dean’s mouth. He knew how much the ride was killing her, that she was desperate to know where they were going. That shut her up immediately. Yes, she was a bit predictable, but she was beginning to realize she was a bit stubborn as well. The only time she did speak was to demand a bathroom stop; she did still have to go after all.

“You sure this the right way?” Bobby grumbled from the backseat. Dean glanced at him in the rearview mirror, the brought his eyes back down to the road. Martha leaned back in her seat, drumming the tip of her fingers on her thigh impatiently. The grin was back again, and he kept glancing her way occasionally, as if waiting for her to explode.

“You should keep your eyes on the road.” She said, feigning boredom. Dean made a left turn, before looking at her once again.

“You’re a hell of lot nicer to look at.” Dean said. “Besides, you look like you wanna…oh, I don’t know ask me something.”

“Not really.” Martha replied.

“You sure?  No questions?  None at all?”

Martha’s eyebrows rose as she stared at him “Why?”

“Hmmm? Why what? You got a question?” Dean said quickly. She heard Bobby let out a deep sigh.

“Give it up Dean, she’s on to you.” Bobby said. Dean grunted with displeasure as he looked up at the rearview mirror.

“Well, she is now dammit.” Dean said. “You just can’t let shit be can you?  Well that’s a fucking forfeit.”

“Go to hell, she wasn’t gonna ask you Dean.” Bobby snapped. “And you’re a damn cheater anyway, asking her all those questions and shit.”

“Oh, so there were rules?  We got rules now, because all I heard was…well, shit I didn’t hear a fucking thing ‘cept you bitchin’ about your money.”

“Which you still fucking owe me.” Bobby said. “Plus another five hundred, as per our agreement.”

“Fuck you man.”

Martha twisted sideways in her seat, offering a better view of her companions.  “Did I miss something?” she said. “I mean, I’m sure we’ve all been in this car together, but I definitely feel like I’m behind a jump or two.”

She watched them stare at one another, before both fell into silence. Martha felt her lips tightened with irritation.

“Was there some sort of bet that I’m not..”

“Dean bet the money he owes me for the dijinn ear he tossed that you wouldn’t make it to The Roadhouse without asking where we were going.” Bobby said. “And I said you wouldn’t, that you were smart as fuck and would probably trust us by now, seeing what you’d seen. That you’d just go along for the ride. And I was right.”

“No, you weren’t.” Dean said.

Martha stared up at the car roof for a moment before responding. “This is....insanely childish, you do realize that don’t you.”

“Yeah.” The both said, and she nodded.

“Good, as long as that’s sorted then.” She replied. “Oh, and by the way, Dean was right Bobby, sorry.”

The thick eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

“But you didn’t—”

“I didn’t ask where we going, no.” she replied, her eyes shifting to Dean’s profile. He currently wore a cocky grin, throwing occasional victorious looks Bobby’s way.

“I did want to ask however, though I do trust that you both know what you’re doing. For the most part anyway.  I just like to know things, always have. A bit compulsive really. Of course, I was going to ask, but I’m pretty sure it was…”

She pointed at Dean’s smile, causing it to immediately transform into a frown.

“That grin there, that tipped me off pretty early on.” She said. “You don’t play poker or anything, do you?  If so, I recommend you stop immediately.”

“Are you done?” Dean said irritably as Bobby began to chuckle in the back seat.

“I believe she’s got your number boy.” Bobby said. Dean flashed a sarcastic grin back at him, before looking her way again.

“But I was right.” He said. “You would’ve asked.”

Martha shrugged. “Why dwell on things that will never happen?” she said.

“Because I was fucking right, that’s why.” Dean replied. 

Sam 

“Well now.” Donna said, breaking the extended silence caused by The Doctor’s latest revelation. “That was a bit of drama wasn’t it? Yeah, so I say we pop back round the TARDIS and head off. Don’t look like there’s anything here anyway, and to be quite honest, you’re startin’ to scare the living shit out of me.”

This last part was directed to The Doctor, who was now hunched over a control panel beside a large door. His only response to her words was a brief glance sideways, before the focusing on the task at hand.

Sam inched slightly closer, not wanting to interrupt his work, but fascinated by what he was seeing. The Doctor had pulled out his screwdriver; the blue tipped one, not one the others, and shined it on the panel, emitting a low hum as he moved it across the numbers. He squinted at the thing intensely, but Sam couldn’t see anything other than the panel. What the hell was that thing for, what was he looking at?

“Oi,I swear.” Donna said, walking forward to stand beside Sam. “It’s like I’m talking to myself some days, just to hear my own voice.”

“What is he doing?” Sam said. “I mean, what’s that thing do?”

Donna tilted her head to the side as she considered his question. “Don’t really know actually, it just…does things. Opens doors, gets information. I seen it blow up somethin’ once, some kind of..reversal of the polartity, whatever that means. He says that rubbish all day, and I just nod my head. Works for both of us, that.”

Sam nodded his own head as The Doctor finally straightened from his position, spinning around to face them.

“Right so, sonic screwdriver, not so good with deadbolts, can’t open them at all actually.”

Donna rolled her eyes at this. “Yes, you’ve said that dozens of times, so how do we—”

“I said it to you, not to him.” The Doctor said, pointing to Sam. “The screwdriver can open most of the locks in the universe, but not deadbolts. A glitch in the design, hasn’t been fixed yet.”

Sam looked over to the door, then back at The Doctor. “But you weren’t looking at the dead bolt, that was the key panel you were…shining your light on.”

The Doctor let out a deep breath, and replaced the screwdriver in his jacket pocket.

“I thought I could scan the coding of the panel; find one of the security keys of a crew member from the memory databases.”  The Doctor said, turning to the panel. “But unfortunately all that time in the sun’s atmosphere damaged the ship’s hard drive; most of that information’s been erased.”

“So we can’t open the door.” Sam said, surprised at his disappointment. From what the Doctor told them, the ship could be dangerous, they didn’t know even know where they were. But still…it sucked not being able to go any further.

“Well, that’s that.” Donna said. “Back to the TARDIS?”  She began to move backward, only to pause after realizing no one was following. “You’re not finished are you?’ she said to The Doctor, her voice flat.

The Doctor’s expressionless face broke out into a huge grin.

“I said most of the ship’s hard drive.” His fingers reached out and pressed several buttons, and the large door creaked loudly as it slid open. A spontaneous laugh erupted from Sam at the sight, an excited thrill rushing through him.

“I was able to reboot the entire system, start everything up again.” The Doctor said.

“And you just made up your own code.” Sam finished for him, and The Doctor nodded excitedly. “Exactly Samuel.”   Donna blew out a frustrated breath, and slowly made her way back towards them.

“That’s brilliant” Sam said smiling brightly.

“It is, isn’t it?” The Doctor replied, with a large smile of his own.

Martha 

Dean turned the wheel once more, and they were taken off the main road, onto a small dirt path leading to a old storefront, seemingly alone in the middle of nowhere. There were several cars parked in front and on the side, all various shapes and sizes. Dean bypassed the front of the building, parking the Impala around back instead.

“This is bigger then the last one.” Bobby said as he eyed the building. Dean nodded in agreement.

“Maybe this one will last longer too.” He said. Martha cleared her throat, waiting patiently, causing Dean to roll his eyes in surrender.

“This is The Roadhouse. The new one anyway, the other one kinda…burned up.” He said. Martha exited the car first, and Dean and Bobby followed suit, each of them stretching their now aching legs.

“I’m assuming we didn’t come all this way for a world class pint?” she said. Bobby walked towards the back door, Dean and Martha close behind.

“It’s a hunter’s bar.” Dean said, and she paused briefly, staring at him.

“You people have bars?” she said.

“Yeah?  I mean…we all just kinda hang out here when we’re passing through. Why? Something wrong with that?”

“No, not at all actually.” She said as she climbed the stairs. “It makes sense, I just…you and Bobby seem so isolated, like you spend a lot of time on your own. I thought that was how it worked.”

“It does.” Dean said. “Most of the time.”  Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dim light, taking in the people littered across the room. Dean placed a hand on her elbow, guiding her gently past the tables. It was something she normally hated, that proprietary stance men took on in public places. Tom only attempted it a few times before she broke him of the habit; she could find her way on her own, thank you very much.

But now she felt none of those things. Maybe it was the alien environment, or everything that had happened in the past few days, but his touch was reassuring, steadying. Like he was making sure she knew he was there.

And there was the small fact that she was desperate to kiss him again. But she tried to dwell on that too much.

 “Dean! Martha, over here.” Bobby called out from across the room. He was standing next to a woman behind the bar, who had already pulled out three beer bottles, and icy frosted mugs. Martha felt like weeping at the sight.

“Hey Ellen” Dean said as they reached the counter. Ellen nodded a hello, before her eyes moved over to Martha, who gave her a small wave.

“Hello, I’m Martha Jones.” She said, reaching out a hand. Ellen moved away from the counter, shaking out a dust rag with an aggressive snap. Martha looked down at her hand, as if inspecting it carefully.

“Don’t be a bitch Ellen.” Dean said. “Or at least pretend not to be.”

“You can go to hell Dean Winchester, Bobby told me what happened to his house.” She snapped. Bobby shrugged his shoulders at Dean’s baleful stare and took long swig his drink, ignoring the glass by his side. “She asked.” He said after he’d emptied the bottle. He sat it down on the counter, then reached for the one beside it.

“Those all yours?” Dean said.

“Yep.” Bobby replied, causing Dean to sigh as he turned back to the bar. “Hey Ellen, could we get..”

“You can get jack shit, what the hell’s matter with you.” Ellen rounded on him angrily, hands on her hips. “You lose your brother like a set of keys, and instead of being out there tracking them down, you’re…what?  Tryin’ to impress your latest piece of ass?”

Dean slammed his fist on the counter, causing Martha to jump slightly. She’d remained quiet throughout the exchange, briefly reflecting that this was the first time she’d ever been referred to as a “piece of ass.” He and Ellen glared at each other for a moment before he spoke again.

“Don’t talk about her like that.” Dean said quietly. Ellen rolled her eyes, cocking her hip slightly.

“Dammit Dean, you burned down Bobby’s house cause they were after this girl. Doesn’t that seem a bit fucked up to you?” she said. “You only just met her...”

“Ellen, it’s fine.” Bobby said. “It was my damn idea.”

“I don’t care, you wouldn’t be in this mess if Dean wasn’t letting his dick do all his fucking thinking. God, your Dad taught you better than that, I know he did.”

Martha saw him tense at her words, his eyes glint with even more anger than before. She placed a hand on her arm, feeling his rigid muscles beneath her fingers.

“Dean.” She said quietly, and then she waited. Slowly, he looked down at her, anger still there, but mixed with sadness. Pain.

“Dean.” She said again. “Can we get a booth?  I’m a bit knackered at the moment. I’ll get the drinks, yeah?”

She didn’t dare look away as various emotions crossed his face. Martha saw the sharp nod of his head, and he delivered one last withering glare to Ellen before walking away. They all watched him move toward a booth in a far off corner, staring down its current occupant until the man stood up and walked away, throwing nervous glances behind him.

“Why the hell’d you do that?” Bobby said quietly to Ellen.

“Do what?  Tell him how fucking stupid he was being?” she replied.

“You brought up John.” Bobby said. “You know what that does to him, what good....”

“It’s the only thing that sinks into that thick assed brain of his.” Ellen said, tossing the towel on the counter behind her.  Bobby rubbed his mangy beard thoughtfully.

“Not the only thing.” He said, staring pointedly at Martha. Martha straightened slightly as Ellen brought her stormy gaze her way.

“Yeah, you did.” Ellen said.

Martha smiled uncomfortably. “Oh, I didn’t…I just thought he needed to take minute, space and all that.”

“And he listened to you.” Ellen said. “Dean don’t listen to anybody, except Sam. Which makes me wonder...” The woman leaned forward slightly and Martha fought the urge to back away, not wanting to bear the brunt of her wrath. “Just who the fuck are you Martha Jones? And why is there a demon clusterfuck riding your tiny little ass?”

Martha sighed as she looked from Bobby to Ellen, and shook her head.

“I don’t know.” She said. “And at this moment, I could give honestly give a fuck. I just really, really want a drink.”

Ellen was silent for a moment, before breaking out into a large grin.

“Then you come to the right place. Tequila it is.” She said, grabbing two shot glasses. Martha’s opened her mouth to correct her, wanting to order beer, but Bobby gave her a warning shake of his head.

“Tequila.” Martha said, forcing a smile on her lips. “Sounds brilliant.”

The Doctor 

They stood on the deck of the ship, staring out of the large window before them. The sun was just a bright, as volatile as when he’d last seen it, streams of hot gas occasionally whipping out from the boiling depths. They weren’t as close this time; the ship was still out of the sun’s gravitation pull, as it was when they’d left. But they barely moved, which made no sense to him. When he’d gone—when he and Martha had left this ship, they had gas, the crew was leaving this place. More than happy to after everything that had happened.

So why was the ship still here?

“That…that’s the sun you mentioned.” Sam said. “The one Martha almost—”

“Yes.” The Doctor said, his previous excitement now gone. Sam ran a hand through this thick hair as he stared at the sight before him. “Man, that…holy shit.”

“Exactly.” The Doctor said. Donna was walking around the cabin, her hands occasionally touching random items scattered about the room. She shivered slightly, her arms wrapping around her body.

“This place feels like a tomb.” She said. The Doctor didn’t reply, but he knew exactly what she meant. He felt it too. And it made him angry.

“Do you think…” Sam began. “You said there were people left, but if we’re still here, close to that sun, then...”

“They could be dead.” The Doctor said. His rage coiled through his body, unfurling as if a match had been struck.

“Doctor.” He heard Donna say, but it as if she were far away now, from him, from  everything. There was only him, and that bloody sun. That thing…

“You killed them.” He said, and the flame of anger began to grow. “After we left here, you murdered them after you swore you wouldn’t.”

Yes.

It was there. Still, after everything that happened. And it wasn’t afraid, ashamed of what it had done. Not yet.

“Why?” The Doctor said, but received only silence in return. He felt the last of his resolve crumble as his rage overwhelmed him.

“WHY DID YOU KILL THEM.!”  He screamed. “They’d done nothing to you, they were leaving, returning home!”

Burn with me.

“Burn with—why won’t you answer me?” he said. He could hear his voice cracking, becoming slightly hoarse. “They did everything you wanted….Why would you..”

And then it hit him.

“Vengeance.” He said softly. “You…killed them for revenge, because of what they’d done.”

Everything burns.

“They were going  to leave, just walk away after all the pain they’d caused. And you…you couldn’t live with that could you?” The Doctor said. “And did it work, do you feel better now? Whole again?”

Doctor.

“No of course not. How could you?  How could anyone?”

“Doctor?”

It took him a moment to identify the voice as Sam’s. He turned his head, blinking rapidly as he attempted to focus on his face.  Sam’s blue eyes were bright with alarm, and The Doctor realized he was lying on the floor, that Sam and Donna were now hovering above him.

“Sam...”

“Tell us what to do.” Sam said. Donna’s eyes were bright with tears, her already pale face a deathly white. The Doctor began to respond, when a sudden pulsing heat moved through him, eating at his flesh. He felt his back arch from the ground as his lips parted with surprise.

It was angry.

And he began to scream.

Dean 

Dean glared at the salt shaker in the middle of the booth, resisting the urge to send it flying across the room. He could feel the stares of the other hunters in the bar, but they all kept to themselves, for which he was grateful.

He’d let Ellen get to him, he knew that. He hated when she went off on that mommy shit, might as well waved a finger in his face and told him he’d been naughty. And to bring up his dad…why the hell had she done that?

Dean sat back in booth and ran an angry hand across his face. He was pissed about that, her bringing Dad up, but…she was right. And that pissed him off even more. This whole thing had knocked him on his ass really, Sam disappearing, and Martha. He’d been playing catch up this whole time, just reacting to shit instead of trying to solve the damn problem. It was easy to assume Sam was alright, that he was off joyriding in some spaceship….well, maybe not easy, but he could live with it. But he didn’t know that sure. His brother could be hurt, or worse…and he’d just been going along like nothing had changed. Well, almost nothing.

“This seat taken?” Martha said as she walked up to the booth. She held a bottle of tequila in one hand and two shot glasses in the other. She gave him a small smile as she slid into the booth beside him, sitting the items down on the counter.

“Martha I’m not—tequila?” he said, lifting the bottle in his hand. “You drink this?”

“No, actually.” She said, placing an elbow on the table. “I wanted a beer, but Ellen is…a bit forceful in her opinions. She recommended this.”

“Recommended?” Dean gave a small snort as he spun the cap off from the bottle. “Is that Brit speak for chucked a bottle at your head? Cause that’s how she “recommends” stuff to me.”

“She’s worried about you.” Martha said. “And she should be, I put you both…”

“Don’t do that.” Dean said, filling both the shot glasses to the brim. “None of that bullshit in here, that’s not why we came.” He sat the bottle down and slid one of the shots toward her.

“I’ll make you a deal.” He said. “You won’t start moaning about how dangerous you are, and I won’t get all broody about what a fucking disappointment I am. Deal?”

“Yeah.” She said, and slid her fingers around the rim of the glass. “Who exactly are you disappointing?”

Dean smiled bitterly.

“My dad. My brother. The damn busboy, take your pick.”

“Oh.” She said. “But why...”

“You ask a lot a questions.” He said. “But you don’t answer many, do you?”

“Yes, I do actually.” She said. “You just don’t ask me any, there’s a difference.”

“Alright.” He reached down and lifted her hand from the glass, his fingers playing with her engagement ring.

“Question.” He said, tapping the diamond with the tip of his finger.  He watched her eyes darken; her eyelids lower as she looked at the ring on her hand.

“I left him.” She said. “Not more there than that.”

“Bullshit.” Dean replied, not letting go of her hand. “A woman like you, there’s always more to that story.”

“Perhaps, but the rest isn’t really worth mentioning.” She said tightly. “Not to me anyway.”

He was silent for a moment, which caused her to look up at him.

“What?” she said as he eyed her carefully.

“He cheated on you.” Dean said. Her hand twitched slightly at his words, but she didn’t look away.

“Yeah.” She said, and he nodded.

“Then you dodged a bullet cause he’s kind of a dumbfuck” He said, and he saw the corners of her mouth twitch.

“You didn’t see the girl.” Martha said, and his grip on her hand tightened once more.

“I see this one.” Dean replied. “That’s all I need to know.”

 Sam 

He had to do something.

The Doctor writhed on the ground, his eyes flashing with a vivid light. He was fighting something, whatever it was inside him. And from what Sam could see, he was losing.

“God, make it stop.” Donna cried, standing to her feet. She began to look around frantically, her movements jerky as she rushed through the room. Sam was sure she didn’t know what she was looking for, only felt the need to do something.

“Burning..” The Doctor moaned. “Too much…it’s too..”

“The TARDIS.”  Donna paused mid-motion as she spoke, her eyes becoming saucers. “Yes!” she exclaimed, smacking herself on the head. “Why didn’t I…can you pick him up. He’s a runt of a thing, shouldn’t be too heavy.”

“I can try.” Sam said, looking back down at him. “But he’s in a lot of pain, won’t—“

“Just do it. I’ll help, and we’ll apologize to him after he thanks us for saving his ass.”

They each grabbed an end, Sam taking on a majority of the weight by sliding his arms under The Doctor’s, holding the man’s chest to him. Donna grabbed his feet, which were encased in what looked like converse tennis shoes, or trainers as Donna referred to them. It was slow going, The Doctor was still twisting and turning in their arms, and Donna dropped his feet several times along the way. They were both panting by the time they made it to the TARDIS, and Donna pulled a key from around her neck, quickly sticking in the door.

“You have a key?” Sam said, and she only winked at him. They stumbled inside, and Donna shut the door quickly, as if to keep out whatever had invaded the ship.

“Get him over there.” She said, nodding toward the panel. Sam followed her instructions, not sure what was happening, but wanting only to feel useful. He laid The Doctor next to the glowing panel, then stepped back as Donna walked up beside him.

“What now?” Sam said to her.

“Now, we wait.” She replied, her eyes locked on The Doctor. “Hopefully, she’ll take care of the rest.” She said, nodding toward the center of the TARDIS. They stood there a few seconds before The Doctor suddenly lifted his body, his eyes glowing brightly as he focused on them.

“That’s not good, is it?” Donna said. Sam began to shake his head, when the Doctor began to speak, his voice several octaves lower that before.

“Come to me.”

Sam and Donna eyed each other, then looked back at the Doctor.

“I think he means you.” Sam said. Donna shook her head.

“Wrong, he was definitely lookin’ your way, saw it with my own eyes.”

“Nah, he’s known you longer. And you got a key and everything...”

“He gives all of us a key, he must have hundreds of them stashed away somewhere. Don’t mean anything, it’s like a party favor. A hello, welcome to the TARDIS, go on, have a key!”

“I didn’t get one.”

“I’m not goin’ over there.”

 “She comes to me…” The Doctor said, and they were immediately silenced. “I can feel her…. here…want….she needs….”  

Sam felt his skin begin to crawl as the words came, and suddenly he didn’t want to hear anymore.

“The Dark One…”

“What the..” Donna began, but Sam quickly silenced her with a small wave.

“She comes to me… she is you…” The glowing eyes met his, and Sam felt himself backing away, leaving Donna’s side.

“Sam?”

“You…she is…..you..”

“What the hell does that mean…I don’t.. ”

A bright light shot up from the panel of TARDIS, illuminating the entire ship. They both covered their eyes, pain shooting through Sam’s head as the stream grew even brighter. He could make out The Doctor as the light moved around him and watched as he began to shake violently. It went on for several minutes, before coming to an abrupt halt, the light quickly sucked back inside the ship.

The TARDIS  was silent once again, except for Donna’s labored breathing.

“What the fuck was that?” Sam yelled.

“The TARDIS.” She said. “It healed him…at least, I think it did.”

The Doctor’s eyes opened slowly, and much to Sam’s relief, they were back to their normal brown color.

“Doctor?” Donna said, gingerly moving closer. “Are you alright, is it gone now?”

The Doctor raised his gaze, looking past her at Sam. His face tight, his eyes grim and Sam felt a knot began to form in his stomach.

“Are you okay?” Sam said.

“What are you Sam?” The Doctor said, slowly rising to his feet. “And this time, I must insist on the truth. Because whatever you are, it’s not human.”

“Hold on, I don’t understand, he is an alien?” Donna said. Sam gave a nervous smile, his mind working frantically.

“I’m not….I’m human, I just…”

“That thing was afraid of you.” The Doctor began to walk towards him, his pace slow but steady. “I could feel it every time it looked at you, it wanted to run.  The Vashta Nerada did the same, and I need you to tell me why. This all isn’t’ just coincidence, there’s a reason you’re here, I think we both know that.”

Sam’s throat closed as he broke eye contact.

“Sam, it’s alright.” The Doctor said. “Just tell me.”

”I’m part demon.” Sam snapped, bringing his gaze back to The Doctors. “When I was a kid, a demon put his fucking blood inside me, and…now, I’m part demon. I got hunters and hell bitches that want me dead and sometimes I get visions and shit. Happy?”

The Doctor didn’t respond the flicker of surprise on his face his only reaction.

“Well…” Donna said. “That there’s a conversation killer if I’ve ever heard one.”

Martha 

Dean began to move his fingers across her hand, slowly sliding them back and forth. Martha breathing became nonexistent as her body grew warm at his touch. She bit her bottom lip, and his eyes locked on her mouth, his body leaning closer to hers.

“Dean...” she whispered, and he brought his other hand against her cheek, lightly grazing the soft skin.

“You know.” He said, his voice lower than before. “When I kissed you…I could swear you made this soft little moan….”

Martha felt her body lean into him, her thigh pressing against his.

“I can’t stop thinking about it.” he continued as his finger began to trace the line of her mouth. He moved closer, and placed his lips over her ear, the heat of his mouth playing against the sensitive skin.

“I wanna hear it again.” The fingers had moved to the nape of her neck, rubbing in small gentle circles. Martha closed her eyes as felt her body trembling, the deep ache pulsing between her thighs. Her hand moved from underneath his, to graze the line of his chin, which was roughened by light stubble.

“Dean, we…this..” she couldn’t form the words, couldn’t bring herself to push him away. She could only curse the fact that they were in this bar, that there were so many people around.

“Martha.” He whispered his hand moving down to her thigh, gripping her leg tightly. His tongue slid along her the edge of her ear, and she gave a small groan of frustration before pulling back from him.

“Car.” She choked out, and he stared at her with confusion, his hazel eyes clouded with lust.

“What..”

“The car… now…” she repeated, already sliding out the booth. He hesitated, still slightly confused, before abruptly realizing what she meant. Dean hurried out beside her, knocking over a shot glass as he rose to his feet. Martha glanced over at the bar, but saw no sigh of Ellen or Bobby as they hurried outside, quickly rounding the building to find the Impala parked in back.

Dean fumbled with the keys as he attempted to unlock the door. Martha watched him for a moment, before pushing his hands away impatiently. Her arms locked around his neck, and she pulled him down to her, pressing her mouth against his.  

Her tongue sought his out, delighting in the feel of the wet tip against hers. She heard him grunt with pleasure, and returned her exploration with one of his own. His hands gripped her waist, and he lifted her body, slamming her against the side of the car. Martha wrapped a leg around his waist, moaning as her groin met the hard length of his erection.

His hands gripped her ass, and he rubbed himself against her slowly, causing electric shivers to move through her body. Martha began roll her hips in time to his movements, and Dean let out a deep groan as his tongue continued to thoroughly explore her eager mouth.

And then, he stopped.

Martha swallowed a whimper as he pulled away, every nerve ending in her body crying foul.  Her eyes shot open, staring at him in amazement as he slowly lowered her back to the ground.

“What…why did you…”

“Sorry.” Dean said, his voice flat and stoic as he looked over her head. “But I’ve never been one for an audience.”  Her eyes widened as she spun around, following his gaze. A tall black man stood a few feet from the car, his teeth gleaming against his dark skin as he smiled brightly.

“On top of a car?” the man said, clucking his tongue disapproval. “Man, that’s low class even for you Dean.”

“Stay.” Dean told her, and for once she didn’t argue. She was still disoriented, and she watched mutely as he began to back away, his hand reaching behind his back. He pulled out a handgun, quickly aiming it at the man’s head.

“That’s right baby, you stay right there.” The man said as his eyes became pitch black.

“Me and your boyfriend got some unfinished business, don’t we Dean? Unfinished cause I never got around to killing your ass.”