25Chapter Ten: 9 to 5 Part One
Tumble outta bed and I stumble to the kitchen
Pour myself a cup of ambition
Yawn and stretch and try to come to life
Jump in the shower and the blood starts pumpin'
Out on the street the traffic starts jumpin'
With folks like me on the job from 9 to 5
Sometime…
Brizzz
Poppie reluctantly rolled out of bed and hit the alarm before it could wake her sleeping companion. She looked over his sleeping form and smiled a little before running to the bathroom of the master suite. Quickly and quietly, she applied tinted moisturizer and setting powder while avoiding the soft mink of her eyelash extensions. She then skillfully scrubbed each veneer with her toothbrush before replacing it on its wireless charging base. The clock above the large mirror read 3:35 am, and she rushed to the kitchen to prepare a green juice before she ran out of time.
By 3:50 am she was re-placed in bed with her head on the pillow and eyes closed.
Beep Beep. Beep Beep.
Fighting the groan that threatened to escape her lips, she pressed into the warm body next to her, nuzzling into his neck and reaching over him to the offending device. Her heart warmed at the sight of her husband, snuggled under the Versace sheets he'd bought after their last fight. She pulled the Egyptian silk scarf from her hair before shaking the man gently.
"Good morning, Mr. Smith." She smiled and her clean teeth shined in the light of their widowed penthouse bedroom.
"Good morning, Mrs. Smith. How do you look so good in the mornings?" Dean kissed his wife and noticed her fresh breath against the rough scent of his own. "Did you brush your teeth?"
"Of course not, honey. I just woke up! How silly. Now get up or you're going to miss your work out. There's a green juice in the fridge for your breakfast." Her light laugh flooded his heart with muted tenderness. She impressed him daily, even as the years flew by.
"All right, alright. You better get up, too. Don't want to get lazy!" He leaned over and kissed her again, before rolling out of the bed and into his morning routine. When the bedroom door shut behind him, a loud fart sounded under the covers.
"Oh, thank God." She took a deep breath into the stomach she'd been sucking in and threw the covers back. Slowly, she trudged into the bedroom again to begin her morning routine. Meticulously, she applied make up to her already flawless face. Her fillers had settled beautifully this appointment and she made a note to let Fabio know his work was exquisite.
A beep sounded from the electronic device beside her and she began to type quickly to Sarah's request for brunch. Of course, she'd make it to Mimosa's for Childhood Leukemia. Who was she? Ivanka?
Finally satisfied with her appearance she walked toward the next-door bedroom and opened the door to her custom closet. Was childhood leukemia a Cartier or Gucci event? Her manicured fingers lightly tugged at the light blue dress with matching blazer lovingly. Vintage Valentino, definitely. She opened her Instagram app before going live to share with her followers the plan for the day and her latest brand deal.
It was almost 6 am when she appeared downstairs to meet her husband as he walked out the door. "We still on for lunch, Sweetheart?"
"Of course. I'll bring you a salad from Flemmings. There's a charity brunch today."
"That's nice, honey. Don't get too into those Mimosas."
"Of course not, I'll behave. Goodbye, handsome." A light wink and kiss later, she was alone once more.
The grumbling in her stomach finally caught up to her and she ran into the restroom before purging her own green juice into the cold porcelain bowl. "Oh, little one. You have to calm down until we let Daddy know you're com-" Her hand rubbed lightly over the small of her stomach as she purged again, imagining the best way to surprise her husband with the news. She didn't sit long before it was time to leave for the event.
~SPN!~
Poppie entered the elevator of the office building behind a rather large gentleman in a yellow polo. He found her staring at him before she did.
"Uhm, yeah?"
"Oh my gosh, I am so sorry. I'm not sure what came over me. I just… I'm pregnant and I'm here to visit my husband and tell him so I'm a little nervous and I just feel like I know you from somewhere." She said, her purse subconsciously hovering in front of her stomach. "Why did I tell you that?"
"Uhm, congratulations," Sam looked at the woman, "Who'd you say your husband was again?" Something about this woman also pulled on the back of his mind. The scent of rosemary and lemon.
The beep pulled their eyes apart. "Oh, I'm… I'm so sorry. Have a great day." And Poppie exited the elevator.
She nervously navigated the hall toward his new office, they'd been here three weeks now and she estimated she was only three weeks pregnant currently. Maybe they'd have to work Sandover into his name…
"Hello, honey!" Her hands pushed open the door of Dean Smith, and she smiled as she met eyes with her husband from behind his desk. "I brought you a juice, too."
Dean took the bag she produced pulled a stainless-steel mug from its place in the bag to see a black and white photo taped to the front. "Is that… Are you?"
"Yes," She smiled the biggest smile he'd seen since he popped the question and read the laser engraved lettering behind the small sonogram picture.
Dad
Est. 2008
"Oh, baby!" He jumped up and kissed her, then gestured to her stomach. "And baby!"
"Mr. Smith, and who is this lovely lady?" An overweight man in a grey suit and matching hair entered the room with a smile. Dean pulled from the embrace.
"Mr. Adler. This is my wife, Poppie. She just told me I'm going to be a Dad!"
"Hey! Congratulations! Good stuff, you two!" The old man reached over to shake the teary-eyed new father.
"Good stuff."
"Big things!"
"Big things."
~SPN!~
Brizzz
Poppie reluctantly rolled out of bed and hit the alarm before it could wake her sleeping companion. Again. She looked over his sleeping form and smiled a little less before running to the bathroom of the master suite. With a weird feeling in her heart, she applied tinted moisturizer and setting powder while avoiding her eyelash extensions. She then brushed her teeth before replacing it on its wireless charging base. The clock above the large mirror read 3:35 am and she rushed to the kitchen to prepare a green juice before she ran out of time. Though something told her she wouldn't.
By 3:50 am she was replaced in bed with her head on the pillow and eyes on the ceiling.
Beep Beep. Beep Beep.
Beep Beep. Beep Beep.
Beep Beep. Beep Beep.
"Pops?" Dean pressed the button on the alarm clock with apprehension. "Are you okay? Is it the baby?" His hand pressed firmly against her stomach and before she could stop the insane reaction, Dean was on the floor and she was on top of him, holding his arm against the small of his back and pressing his face into the hardwood flooring.
"Oh, Oh my god! Baby, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? What the hell was that?" Poppie jumped back from him as if he'd burned her.
A laugh erupted from him before he stood and straightened his pajamas. "Damn! Talk about pregnancy hormones! May I?" He snaked his hands around her middle and closed her in an embrace. "That was hot."
She gave an unsure and shaky laugh before pulling back from her husband to look into the same green eyes she'd known almost forever. It just felt wrong. "Yeah, pregnancy hormones. You're going to miss your work out."
~SPN!~
Poppie bustled through the lobby of her husband's job with a brown bag salad and a cinderblock in her stomach. The elevator stopped on his floor just as a gurney with a body bag passed her by. The cinderblock threatened to heave through her throat. The tin scent of blood and death filled her sensitive nose. How did she know what blood and death smelled like?
"Hey, are you okay? You look like you're going to pass out." The same man from the day before watched when she entered as the coroner exited and her feet planted in place and the color drained from her face. When she finally turned to look up at him with weary eyes, everything went black.
"Get out of the way, she's pregnant!" Dean had caught the moment she'd lost consciousness and broken out into a sprint across the lobby toward the sasquatch from the service desk who'd tried to pick him up yesterday.
"I got her, here, man." He handed the woman over to her husband; the guy Sam had seen in the strangest of his dreams for the last week.
"Thank you…"
The blackness turned to light as ice blue eyes filled her vision. "Poppie, where are you? I haven't been able to locate you in days."
"Who are you? Where am I?" They were in a small living room with candles supplying the only light.
"Why do you… Zachariah. Hold fast, It'll be over soon." He placed two fingers on her forehead.
"Sam." Her panicked voice filled the room as her eyes opened and she sat bolt right, and the awareness slowly refilled her frazzled mind.
"Pops, are you okay? This is getting crazy; do you need to call the doctor? How do you know this guy?" Dean lifted her easily from the ground, not removing the arm cemented around her waist.
"Know who? Oh, I don't… We saw each other on the elevator yesterday but I don't... Is your name Sam?" She couldn't look away as a look of shock filled his eyes.
"Are you having the dreams, too?"
"Okay, pal. Poppie lets get out of here."
"The car… The ghosts." She whispered and Sam nodded but Dean, who was completely unamused by the string of events, was already pulling her toward his office. After he swung the door shut a little harder than needed and gently placed his wife on the couch next to his desk, there was a knock.
"Right. Pops, I have to talk to this guy really quick, okay? Then we're going to the hospital."
She nodded limply.
"Hi. Ian, is it? Yeah, come on in. Sorry, my wife had a spill so she's recovering. But, uh, yeah. Yesterday you filled out a 445-T and no problem, just a few errors when we did your switch over to Vista. So, I'm sure you're used to filling out the dash-R's."
Ian's face fell, "Oh, no."
"No, no, no. It's fine. It's fine. I just need you to redo one today so I can get the show on the road with the invoicing." Dean knew he was being a bit impatient with him, but he wanted to get to the hospital as soon as he could.
Dean grabbed the paper from his desk and tried to hand it to the Tech. But he just looked at it, sweat starting to drip from crinkled brows.
"Oh my god."
Dean felt his already short fuse, disappearing every second, "No, it's fine. Just refile it and we're square."
Dean was under the impression from workplace gossip that this guy was a hopeless slacker, the man in front of him was a model employee. "I can't believe I did this."
Sweat was pouring down his face, Dean could almost feel Ian's racing heartbeat himself.
"I can't believe I—I can't believe I did this."
Poppie, who had refocused on reality spoke up, "Hey, it's really okay. No one is mad or upset here."
"No, no. It affected profits. It—I screwed up. I—I can't—I can't—I am so sorry. I—how could I do that? I failed Sandover. I failed the company." His panicked tone set Dean on edge.
"All right, why don't you sit down, Ian?"
"No." His feet tried to match his heart as he sped out of the room and down the hall.
"Ian? Ian. Hey. Damnit. I'll be right back, Poppie. Don't stand up."
Dean left the room and slowly walked toward the only door further down the hallway from his office, the bathrooms. Her hands were holding her head and trying to consolidate the strange dream when her phone rang.
"Dean?"
"Baby, I'm fine but I need you to call 911."
"What's happened?!"
"Tell them there's been a suicide and we need medical care."
A/N- Well, day 9403294823 of quarantine and I'm not even sure I speak English anymore. Here's a chapter I wanted to get out for everyone who's caught up and followed the story recently. If anyone would like to be my beta reader, please reach out. I desperately need one for this story.