Time Is on Our Side

She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep for, but she did know that she had been alone. She vaguely remembered stumbling into his room, putting on his extra large sheet and fall into his bed.

But now, she felt an arm draped over her hips, the large hands splayed out on her lower stomach. She froze as she struggled to remember anything that happened after she passed out on his bed.

She moved her eyes to the hand that was resting on her stomach, noticing the many cuts and scars that covered his knuckles. She took her finger and slowly moved her finger over the rough patches of his hands. She felt his hot breath on her neck as her fingernail traced a lazy trail up his forearm. She felt his hand on her stomach tighten as it pulled her tighter up against him. He exhaled as her bottom pressed up against his front.

She closed her eyes, her teeth snagged her lower lip as she felt the hardness pressed up against her lower back. She flipped over on her back and before he could stop her, she slid a leg over his waist as she straddled him. Her bottom sat on his stomach and his large hands grabbed her hips, his fingers dug painfully into her flesh.

Her lips pressed against his and she swallowed his surprised moan as she slid her tongue deep inside his mouth, tasting him. His hand wound into the back of her hair, winding her long, red tresses into his long fingers as he sat up from the bed. While his lips were still on hers, he slid her legs around his waist. He groaned as she moved lightly up against him.

He broke the kiss as he slid her backwards onto the bed, his hands under her back. He raised his head up and gazed into her green ones, watching them darken with her simmering passion. Her pupils were dilated and her cheeks were flushed. He bent his head down, the stubble on his jaw scratched her delicate skin. He opened his mouth and went to kiss her. She raised up to accept his mouth, but instead he moved to her collar bone. He lightly kissed the skin as he kissed his way down to the plaid shirt she had one. He slowly opened a button, kissing the exposed kiss. He repeated this until the shirt was laid open. He kissed around her belly button, feeling her hips raise up off the bed.

With his mouth pressed into her belly, he lifted his eyes to see that she was watching him. He shivered as he hooked a finger underneath the elastic of her panties and slid them off her hips. When the cool air hit her bare skin, she felt another sensation, the warmth of his breath.

As she looked down at him, she noticed that he quickly changed into another person. She shook her head as she watched him morph into Sam, then back to Dean.

She sat up, her chest heaving up and down, her strangled sobs echoing throughout the room as she tried to figure out where the hell she was. The room smelled different than hers. A shaky hand reached up into her dark tresses and smoothed them away from her face. Her body was damp and she felt a tingle in her lower stomach as images flashed around in her head. What an intense dream that had been. It..almost seemed so real. At first, she found herself making love to Dean, then in an instant, he turned into Sam.



What the hell did that mean? She threw the covers off of her body and slid out of the bed, her toes hitting the cold concrete floor. As she slid out of bed, she realized she had his blue and grey plaid shirt over her body. She lifted the collar of her shirt off her body and looked down the front. Good, at least she was still wearing her bra and panties. So that was just a dream.

She looked around the room and noticed the dresser stuffed full of weapons. She had woken up in this room once before. Then, she remembered after Cas zapped her out of that room, she had stumbled into his. His shirt had been draped over the wooden chair and she grabbed it, sliding it over her body. His smell enveloped her as she slid under the covers and passed out from exhaustion.

She turned her head to look at the bed and noticed her side was the only messed up part of the bed. The other side was still neatly made. So he never came back to his room.

She turned her head to look back at the dresser, noticing something lying next to an ivory handle colt revolver. Curious, she walked over to the dresser and noticed it was a picture.



The middle of the photo had a white crease down the middle, letting Savannah know it had been folded in half over the years. It was a picture of a family and Savannah instantly recognized the man with the cap on his head. She had seen him when she was in the hospital. He had seemed kind as he gently asked her questions about the accident.

She noticed the four-year old boy with jade green eyes and a smile on his face. Then, she noticed the woman holding the baby and felt ice clench her stomach.

She quickly put the photo back where she found it, slid on her jeans and tied the plaid shirt into a knot just above her belly button. She took the hair tie from around her wrist, wound her hair into a knot and secured it on top of her head.

She walked down the winding hallway to where the living quarters were located. She found him sitting at the table, a burger in front of him and the laptop open in front of him.

It took her a minute to realize what she was seeing. His finger was on his upper lip, scratching the ginger beard on his face. That's what was different. The last time she had seen him, he had been clean shaven. How long had she been out for?



Dean wasn't sure how long he had been at that computer, the only time he got up was to refill his drink and check on Savannah. After Cas zapped her out of the room, he had found her passed out in his bed. He had tried to wake her, but she was unresponsive.

Cas tried to wake her, but he told the Winchesters it was like her body was in shock. As hard as he tried, Cas could not break the wall down that she had in her head. The angle wasn't sure what to make of this, most humans he could read in a matter of seconds. Something very strong was preventing him from reading her.

So, when he saw her standing near the red chairs, wearing his shirt, he didn't know what to think. His fingers twitched as he resisted putting them under the table where he had a revolver strapped under the desk. She looked very pale, her dark hair wild around her head.

“Dean...what happened to me?”

His jaw twitched as he slid the chair back from the table and stood up, sliding his hand under the desk, feeling the gun. “Savannah...”

She heard someone walk up behind her, so she turned around to see Sam holding a gun up to her. She sucked in her breath as she felt her body tremble. “S..Sam?” She turned her head to see that Dean had slid the gun from under the table and had it pointed it at her. “W..what is going on?”

Sam's hand trembled around the gun as he held it at Savannah. He tried to keep his emotions in check, not to let her see him weak. “There is something your not telling us.”

“I don't know what your talking about?” She held her hands up in the air as Dean slowly walked around the table to stand to her right.

“Wanna explain what happened four days ago,” Dean kept the gun trained on her, seeing the fear in her eyes. He was conflicted at what to do. She had seduce him and Sam. His mind was aware what was happening, but he was unable to stop it.

Savannah placed a trembling hand over her mouth as the other one grabbed her stomach. With a moan, a sob escaped her mouth as she bent over, unable to catch her breath.

Dean was right, she had seduced him and Sam. It hadn't been to hard. She had fallen asleep on Dean's bed and when she woke up, something was spurring her to find him. And she did find him. Along with Sam. She was fuzzy on the details of what really happened.

“I don't know..” Savannah sobbed as she looked at Sam, pleading at him with her eyes. “You have to believe me! I don't know what happened!”

Sam scrunched up his face as his thumb slid back the trigger of the gun, wrestling with his feelings. He was a hunter and a hunter tracked down monsters and disposed of them. His instincts were screaming at him that something was up with Savannah, but, something else was screaming at him. This was his Annah.

Before he could pull the trigger, Cas appeared in front of them, his hand pointed at Sam. “Sam, Dean, we mustn't kill her. She is important to us.” He walked up to Savannah, placing a finger on her forehead. Sam caught her as she slumped to the floor, her limp body cradled in his arms as he held her to him. “I'm afraid what I'm about to do Sam, is very dangerous. I have to read her soul. She has an imprint and I can't seem to access what it is.” He tilted his head and studied the limp Savannah in Sam's arms. His blue eyes slid up to Sam's and held his gaze. “i need your permission Sam.”

Sam looked at Dean who had a shell shocked look on his face. “W..why me?”

Cas shook his head. “I have no clue Sam. But I have to touch her soul to find out. It's not a very pretty situation Sam. And I won't blame you if you don't want to watch.”

Sam looked down at Savannah who was cradled in his arms, her head touching his chest. “No. I need to be here for it.”

Dean watched as his brother carefully laid Savannah on the couch, feeling a slight pang in his heart. He didn't want to really admit that he had fallen for Savannah, but it was obvious how jealous he felt as he watched Sam gently caress her head with his hands.

“Dean?”

Dean snapped out of his trance as he noticed Sam was looking at him. “W..what?”

Sam shook his head and looked down at Savannah's face. He closed his eyes as Cas plunged his hand deep into her stomach, disappearing into silvery light.

Savannah's body arched backwards, her head just barley touching Sam's thighs. A high piercing scream filled the room as Cas closed his eyes, concentrating at the task at hand. Dean closed his eyes tightly, trying not to concentrate on her screaming. He wanted to scream at Cas to stop, but he knew this was crucial for her survival. As much as he didn't want to think about it, Dean knew he would have to make the hard decision if Cas gave them bad news. No loved one of his would ever succumb to that kind of cruel fate.

Then it hit him like a ton of bricks, Dean had fallen for her. Despite his hesitations and doubts, it sneaked up on him like a thief in the night. He began to pace as her screams intensified with each passing minute. This was the longest he had seen Cas do this and Dean wasn't sure what would happen to Savannah. There wasn't more this girl could take.

Sam tried to ignore Dean's worried pacing. It wasn't like the elder hunter to let his emotions show, but Sam could see the concern etched on his brothers face. He didn't want to see his brother falling in love with the women he himself loved.

He closed his ears to her scream, instead, focusing on her breathy moans. God, he loved that sound she made when he was bringing her over the brink. He stopped pacing long enough to wonder why in the hell was he thinking about banging her, when her life was on the line.He turned his head to see that Savannah was lying still on the couch, he face pale. Cas had taken his hand out of her stomach, his fingers were now resting on her forehead, his eyes closed as he concentrated. The shirt had ridden up her stomach, letting Dean see her bare skin. He felt a tingle along his scalp as he thought back to four days ago.

***Four Days Ago*****

He was exhausted, his body aching, his eyes like sandpaper. Forty- Eight hours to crack the demon and find out that Crowley was after Savannah. The demon didn't know the details, just that he was ordered by the King of Hell to hunt down Savannah and bring her alive to him. After hours and hours of torture, Dean finally slid the demon blade up into his throat, killing the host as well as the demon. There was no saving Ezra, he died the instant the demon possessed him.

He took a long hot shower, letting the warm water release the tension in his muscles. His soap scoured away the dried blood on his face and body and he felt human again. Now, he just needed some sleep.

He wasn't prepared for what was waiting for him in that bed, a stunning vision right before his eyes.

She was lying on her right side, her back towards him. She had put on the plaid shirt he had discarded over the chair, and god, did it look fantastic on her. She was wearing it like a night shirt, the ends of the fabric was now bunched up around her hips, letting him see just a hint of black lace.

He let out a trembling breath as he looked at her. “Son of a bitch.” He closed his eyes and slowly shook his head. As much as he wanted to jump in that bed and ravish her, he resisted the temptation. Instead, he walked over to the bed, took the covers our from underneath her and slid them up to her chin. She let out a soft moan, her lashes fluttered against her skin. She mumbled something, then drifted off back to sleep.

It had been quiet, her little whisper, but Dean caught it. “Dean..” She had sighed.

He paused, dipped his head, as small smile creased the corner of his mouth. He shut the door, walked down the long hallway and sat down at the table. He opened the lap top, grabbed the bottle of Whiskey and began to search for some answers.

An hour into scouring the internet, he sat back with a sigh. He took his fingers and rubbed the spot between his eyes. When he pulled back his hand, he was certain he was hallucinating.

Savannah was standing across the table from him, her head tilted to the side as she stared at him. Dean felt a shiver run through his body as she locked her blue green eyes on him.

All she had on was his plaid shirt, which grazed the top of her thighs. He wanted to jump across that table and tackle her, but, instead he looked back at the computer screen. “Gonna stretch out my shirt, Princess.”

“Oh,” Her voice was breathy as she looked down at the shirt. “DO you want it back?” She bit her lower lip as her fingers hooked around the snaps of the shirt. She slid her eyes upward and looked at him. She had the desired effect that she wanted. His green eyes grew dark as his lust simmered. “Should..I just take it off then?” She slid her eyes down at the first snap as she ripped it open. 'Hmm?” She slid her eyes back up to Dean, to see him standing.

Dean was glued to the spot as he watched Savannah slowly unbutton the shirt, her bare skin beckoning to him, but he couldn't move. He swallowed a lump in his throat as the last button was open, the fabric hit the floor and he gasped. She was only clad in those black lacy panties, and his eyes roamed every inch of her body.

Dean knew something was wrong about this, he felt dizzy and out of control as he grabbed her. He was unable to protest as he took her right there on that floor, her moans and screams urging him on. He was drunk on something and he wasn't able to stop as Sam walked into that room and saw the both of them. Instead of being mad, Dean was shocked to hear Savannah invite Sam.

He was a puppet on strings as he fucked her, then, watch as his brother took his turn. As he watched, a thought popped into his head, that maybe, just maybe Savannah was a witch.

“She's not a witch Dean.”

Dean stopped his pacing as he realized he heard someone speaking and turned to see Cas standing up from the floor next to the couch. “Then what?”

He looked at Sam still cradling Savannah's head as she lay still on the couch. “I was right before when I said that she was they key. But, I'm afraid I was wrong in what kind of key.”

“Get to the point Cas!” Dean barked.

Cas sighed and looked over at Savannah. “There was a huge block preventing me from looking at her soul. It was almost like it was placed there just for that purpose.”

“Like what?”S am looked up from Savnnah's face to look at Cas.

“She's branded. By the Arch Angel Michael.”

“Branded?” Dean scrunched his face as he shook his head. “What? Like cattle?”

“Savannah comes from a very strong blood line. Her linange is thought to have come from Michael himself.”

Dean looked at Savannah, then at Cas. “So, what she's half angel.”

Cas shook his head as he slowly began to pace. 'No, Dean. She is a key. She is line to have the next prophet. It's branded in her soul and the mark she bares. I've seen this mark before Dean.” He turned to look at Dean, his eyes narrowed a bit as he tilted his head. “It's the same one you have on yours.”