13Dean doesn't really remember what state they were living in when he met her. Hell, he doesn't even really remember the town. Some voodoo, or hoodoo, ghost, or ghoul—whatever reason they were there, fate had to be involved.
Because that's where Dean met her.
She was two years younger then him, tutoring Sam in English after school in the library:
"This is so stupid," Sam had said, his chin resting on the yellow laminate wood in the Library of Watford High School, the frayed red fabric clashing with her green Army jacket. His hands were balled in little fists, his knuckles white, he pressed his toes deep in his shoes indenting the grey carpet below. The florescent light over reflected off table glared back at them.
"No, no," she had replied. "It's good, Sam. It really is." She laid the paper down in front of a bodyless Sam.
"Sit up," she encouraged, "Seriously Sam. Your argument is strong, your thesis well researched and backed."
Sam raised his eye brows, bending even lower in his seat. "So it's done?"
"No, it's good, but it's not organized. Your argument's great, but the other half of the battle is format," she opened her green note book and tore a piece of paper.
"Okay, if we think of our essay as a hamburger—"
Sam hadn't known Dean knew about his tutoring, and instead of making Sam ask him to stay an hour after final bell Dean had decided to get a girlfriend, some sorta cheerleader afterschool girl to fill his time while Sam got tutored.
But today, Lindy/Mindy/Cindy (?) had decided that an over the pants hand job underneath the bleachers (as per their usual schedule) and general necking had to end early, the boy she was trying to date had invited her his country club that evening and she need time to get ready.
That's why Dean was able sneak into the Library and watch Sam get tutored. He pushed away some books, and was able to get a decent view of them. Still he was hiding behind a bookshelf, spying on his 14 year old brother.
The girl he was with was—his tutor—was wearing an olive green t-shirt, blue jeans, and doc martens. Her hair was long and dark with a slight wave, he was spellbound as she pushed some hair behind her ears, bit the inside of her cheek and started drawing someone on the page. She had a pile of papers in front of them, and when she wasn't writing with her pencil she was spinning it across her fingers.
He watched as Sam clenched himself in a ball, and the tutor kindly not notice. He was surprised despite Sam's pubescent unwanted erection he seemed to be doing his best to absorb everything she was saying.
"Hey, uh, Jules?" Sam stopped her. "Do you think we can stop—for-for today, I kinda promised my brother we'd be done early."
"Oh. Okay," she said gathering her papers and organizing them into a single pile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
She gathered up the papers and slung her backpack over she shoulders and quickly made her way to the front entrance of the library, passing through the magnet detectors that alerted librarians of any stolen books. Dean snuck out the side exit, the glass doors marked emergency. They weren't connected to a wire alarm when they were opened, Dean realized during his inspection of the school after their first day, it would put him closer to the front exit if he took it, but that was the extent of doors use. And waited for her to pass by. She had one hand in her backpack as it loosely hung over her center.
"Hey," he said leaning against the cinderblock wall, the white paint providing a contrasting backdrop. He waited almost a minute for her to pass by. He was never nervous before meeting a girl, and she was no exception.
She paused, looked up and turned her head once she noticed Dean.
"Yes, you." He told her, "come here."
"No thanks." She said, zipped up her backpack and pushed it so it would rest properly on her back.
"No, seriously." He flashed her a toothy smile and a wink.
Her eyebrows wrinkled and she frowned. "I'm not buying any magazines."
"I'm not here to sell magazines. That kid you're tutoring—how much does he owe you?" Dean reached into his jacket and pulled out his wallet.
"Oh, no—" She waved him off, "I'm free—it's! It's free."
Dean grinned and took a couple of steps toward her, "No, take something," he pulled out a twenty, part of his first big pool scam, and put it in her hand, "I'm his older brother and my dad'd kill me if I didn't pay the person helping my brother out. His last essay was put on the fridge."
He closed his hand over hers, and pulled away, his hand still tingled where his skin had touched hers.
"Okay, thanks." She said hurriedly, raised the fist holding the twenty dollar bill and scurried off.
Dean hadn't known he'd fallen in love with her by then. After all that was the first time they met, and he wasn't a believer in love at first sight.
The second time he saw her was that weekend. John was still in the research phase and had been recruiting Dean more and more that he'd turned 18. He'd been driving home from the library. With the sky dark and the warm breeze that wafted through the impala's open window, Dean had heard the radio. His wasn't on, but as he drove by the park he heard Nirvana, followed by a giggle.
He slowed his car down, unsure of what compelled him. But that's when he smelled it—the bitter smell of marijuana. He pulled into the parking lot and raised his high beams.
There she was—on Friday night—alone on the children's slide, one leg dangling over the edge of the slide and the other bent and planted bottom of the slide keeping her in place. She had her left arm resting cushioning her head and the other at her lips holding her joint. Her eyes were closed and she didn't notice the change in light.
Dean got out of his car and rested against the impala's grill.
"Hey!" He said, a shit eating grin plastered on his face.
She jumped and turned to him.
"Oh shit!" She breathed.
Sam had fallen in love with her from the very first time she introduced herself. He remembered where they were, what they had been hunting, and what she said to him the first moment they met. Watford, Massachusetts about 3 hours away from Boston, fresh off a werewolf thing in New Hampshire that had lasted nearly 4 months. It was the longest they'd ever been in any place in recent years. A promising hunt, John Winchester had suspected a witch. Sam had just gotten a C for the first time in his English class, and decided to get tutored rather than explaining to John that he was struggling.
"Hi, I'm Juliet are you Sam?" she waited for him to nod before continuing, "I'm here to help you with English class. Why don't we take a seat?"
She ushered him to a table and took a seat. Sam followed in suit. She pushed some hair behind her ear and bit the inside of her cheek.
"You're in honors 9th grade English?"
Sam nodded, "Yeah, there's an essay due on Friday. I don't where to start."
"Okay, well the beginning is the best place. Why don't we make an outline? Do you have the instructions?"
When Sam handed her the instruction sheet and their fingers touched for the smallest second Sam felt his heartbeat in his hand.
"I'm dying for a lollipop, do you want one?" She asked, pulling two dum-dums out of her bag. She held them out to Sam allowing him to pick first.
That evening he'd spent extra-long in the bathroom.
At 14 he was two years younger than her, and she filled every empty space in his mind.
There was another hunt in Watford, the only reason they were back in the area. But both had separately insisted they do this. Each trying to find a reasonable excuse to take the case here. They'd arrived in Watford close to 9pm, deciding to eat before finding a motel. Sam's fingers drummed on the table as he ate, his mind racing, he'd wanted to call her. He'd wanted to call her now, as soon as they got into town, but he didn't want to do it in front of Dean, he didn't want to get yelled at for carrying a torch for a girl he only knew for 2 months ten years ago. So when Dean went up to the cashier to pay the bill, Sam took advantage and called her.
"This is Juliet Finch, I'm not available right now. Leave a message!" Sam waited until the line beeped, "Hey, Jules it's Sam… from, uh, Watford High. I saw you, uh, still live in the area. I'm passing through with my brother, and I was hoping to see you. Uh, call me back."
"Who's on the phone?" Dean asked walking back to the table, as Sam snapped his phone shut.
"Uh, no one. Someone I used to know from here." Sam said nonchalantly. "Maybe someone who can help us with the research."
In the motel, both brothers spent extra time in the bathroom. Neither of them commenting on the amount of time spent. But when Dean was in the shower, he remembered the only good memory from this place.
"Oh shit!" the joint dangled from her lip, she pulled it away before sliding off the slide. She turned back to Dean were eyes wide and red.
"Party girl?" Dean asked with a smirk.
She coughed, smoke escaping from her lips.
"I don't do this often." She said covering her mouth with the back of her hand, she blinked quickly twice.
"Can I give you a ride home?" Dean asked, his heart pounding in his throat.
She let out a nervous giggle, the joint smoking from in between her index and middle finger. "Absolutely not."
"No?" Dean asked. "Someone you're waiting on."
She shook her head and laughed, "No, no. I'm just—" she brushed some hair from one part to another. She dropped the joint to the ground and stamped it out.
"Hungry?" Dean asked.
She smiled and nodded.
"Wanna grab a burger with me?"
—
She laid across the hood of the impala next to him, their shoulders touched as they ate.
"Open," Dean ordered. She opened her mouth and he dropped a couple of fries in her mouth. She giggled as she chewed.
"I will pay you back for this." She insisted biting into her burger.
Dean took a sip of his milkshake, "Don't worry about it.
"I don't unpay debts." She told him, "I get them paid."
Dean laughed, "You're not in debt."
"No, nothing is free. I gotta pay for this." She took another bit into her burger. "I'm going pay you—I'm to marry this burger."
Dean took her wrist and guided her hands to his face, he bit into the burger she was holding and with a full mouth said, "Debt paid."
She gave him a scandalized look or at least she tried. She was laughing so hard tears streamed down her face.
"I thought you were a tutor?"
She wiped her mouth, "I am."
"What kind of tutor smokes weed in a park at midnight on a Friday night?"
"I can't smoke at home." She tried to frown, "Besides I don't even get a decent radio signal in my house."
She took a sip of her milkshake and flicked her eyes the impala's radio. Dean had stuck a Black Sabbath tape in, rolled the windows down, and let it play while they ate on the hood.
"Does anyone know you're here?" Dean asked, "Your boyfriend?"
She shook her head, unknowingly hitting Dean with a wave of her shampoo. Oranges never smelled the same after that, "No, but I need to get me one of those. Here."
Dean opened his mouth to accept the fries she was giving him.
"I'm sorry if my ass dents your car." She said with a giggle. "I heard you and Lindy were together, shouldn't you be fingering her at someone's party or something."
"Lindy? Is that her name?" Dean said, he should be fingering her at someone's party, after all that had been plan since they'd started groping each other on under the bleachers after school.
"You're a pig!" She snorted then giggled,"Oink!"
"What about you? Shouldn't you be getting fingered at someone's party?"
She snorted, "The problem is that I am from here."
Dean hmmed as he stole the last bite of her burger, licking her fingers to get the last bits of ketchup. She squealed and laughed as his tongue tickled her fingers.
"And I remember all those embarrassing moments. Like, Lindy eating worms during recess after it rained!" She roared with laughter.
Dean turned to her, as she was doubled over laughing. She held stomach as she tried to take in even breaths. She turned to Dean with tears streaming down her face pointed a finger at him, "And you—!"
She bent over laughing sending another wave of orange to Dean.
He waited for her to stop, the sound of her laughter like the chorus to a great song. His smirk grew into a smile as he ate more of her fries.
When she was done, she laid back down on the hood of the impala, resting her head on his shoulder.
"I'm not from here," Dean reminded. His index finger tracing down her jaw, her face turned towards him. Her eyes were still red and heavy.
"No," she said, her lips gently grazing his, "No you're not."
He pressed his lips to hers, tasting the smoke and fast food on her tongue. She kissed him back with fervor, wrapping her arms around him. He pulled her on top of him his hands holding her in place by her hips, lips breaking apart for her to giggle before returning to each other. Her ground her hips into hers, she pressed back into him. He moved his hands, undoing the button and zipper of her jeans. He slipped a finger inside her, and she broke their kiss with a gasp.
"Tell me to stop." He said, curling his finger, her hips rolled with it, "Tell me to stop." With his thumb he circled her clitoris. She exhaled shakily, "Tell me to stop and I will."
"Don't stop." She whispered, she straightened and put her hand over his thumb encouraging him to make circles as he stroked inside her. "Don't stop." She told him again, as he put another finger inside her.
She kissed him again, her tongue stroking his.
"Keep touching yourself." Dean said and broke their kiss, he took his fingers out of his and into his mouth, tasting her.
She laughed, "You're disgusting." But she obliged him anyway.
Dean grinned as pulled his fingers out of his mouth and back into her. She gasped in pleasure again as he continued to work her inside and her clit.
She rocked her hips against his finger, kissing him again, touching herself with him again.
Dean felt her legs shake for a second around him, "Dean, I'm gonna—" He pressed his lips back into hers.
Her legs shook for a moment a second time, "I'm gonna…I'm gonna…"
"Say it."
"Dea—" She panted as her legs shook, he felt her orgasm around his fingers and down his wrist.
She rolled off him, panting, "Wow…"
He put his fingers back into his mouth tasting her a final time. She took his free hand and laid it on her chest.
"Is your heart beating this fast?"
Dean took her hand and placed it on his heart.
"Faster."
She wasn't in school that Monday, and Lindy had decided she wanted to resume their afterschool necking and general fingering. He'd declined at first, but when Juliet wouldn't even look at him when they passed by each other on Tuesday, he accepted Lindy's offer.
She had never touched Sam the way she touched Dean. The only time she even touched Sam was in a fantasy. A dream—one he was lucky to experience in a bedroom he didn't share with his brother.
She was proctoring an exam for him, because she was 16 and he was 14. She was the older woman who he desperately wanted. For each correct question she'd take off her clothes. He doesn't remember much from this dream only enough to remember two things: the first, the dream was about her (most of his dreams would star her after this), and second, having to rush to the motel laundry room with sticky legs, a role of quarters, and wet sheets.
She'd returned his call when Dean was in the shower.
"Sam? This is Juliet—I'm returning your message," she said before he could even say hello. She sounded the same, and he wondered if she was the same.
"Jules?" Sam broke into a grin, "How are you?"
"I'm good. I'm good. How are you?"
"Good? I'm great. Listen are you available right now for a drink?"
"No, but I'm free tomorrow after work if you want to get a drink?"
"Yeah, tomorrow, sure."
-
Sam arrived early, the bar she'd recommended was clean. There was glossy dark wood and the walls painted red. Exposed brick behind the bar and soft yellow lighting illuminated various couches and tables next to each other.
-
She walked in almost half an hour later, looked around the bar.
Sam stood and cleared his throat, "Jules?"
"Oh my, Sam?" She asked. She looked him up and down, the last time she had seen him he had been about a foot shorter; his face was slimmer, his hair longer, his voice deeper.
He nodded and smiled sheepishly, "It's good to see you."
She took the seat next to him, "Sam you look great! You're so tall!"
He laughed, "You look amazing too, Jules."
She looked the same; dark hair with a slight wave to it, deep dark eyes that seemed to see inside him. A smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks.
"So," she rested her elbow on the bar and looked at him soulfully, "What's been going since the last time I saw you."
-
"Standford Law school!" She took a sip from her gin and tonic, and brushed some hair behind her ear. "See I told you, Sam, you're incredibly persuasive. You can make a good argument, all you needed to do was format."
Sam sipped his beer with a smile, "And, uh for the past two years I've taken some time off to take a road trip with my brother. I don't know if you remember him."
She nodded. "Yeah, I met him once or twice." She took another sip of her g&t, "Congratulations, Man. You must be so proud of yourself."
Sam nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, "Well, it's like you said. I just needed to get organized."
"No, Sam," she shook her head, "You were a hard worker, the hardest working kid I ever tutored. You got in, because you worked for it."
"Well what about you? It's been ten years, what have you done?" Sam encouraged.
"Like you, I was busy with school, last year I finally graduated with my masters in library science and, uh, am now working in the library." She shrugged, her dark hair falling in front of her shoulder. "I don't have much going on."
"Not much? No boyfriend?" Sam asked, "Not even a dog?"
She laughed and touched his hand, his skin burned she touched him, "I'm actually still allergic to animals with fur. As for boyfriend, no, the problem is I'm from here, and I remember when everybody was a stupid kid."
"Yeah, like what?"
"Like the bar manager used to be a cheerleader at WHS, she was a year above me, and she used to eat worms after it rained in kindergarten, and I remember how she got married a year after she graduated. But it ended up her husband's family was broke, her new father in law had been embezzling from his job to afford the high life style she wanted to indulge in. And now she and her new boyfriend are much happier after her divorce."
Sam choked, "That's quite the confession."
"It's a small town." She reminded.
"I'm not from here." Sam pointed out.
"Huh?"
"We lived here for like 2 months ten years ago."
"And I still remember you." She took a finishing sip of her drink.
"But do you remember anything embarrassing that I did?" Sam asked, an eyebrow raised.
She bit the inside of her cheek, and cocked her head to the side examining Sam in a new light.
"No," she finally agreed, "I don't remember you doing anything embarrassing."
Sam took a triumphant sip of his beer, "So librarian? That's cool. What else have you done in the past ten years?"
She smirked, her dark brown eyes shining, her cheeks red from the alcohol.
"I lived in Boston for a while." She admitted, "It was great, I was there… god… almost ten years." She ran her index finger over bottom lips as she spoke. "I loved the city, my apartment was tiny. The walls were paper thin. I ate wayyy to much candy."
Sam laughed, "I don't think I ever saw you without a lollipop or something."
"The other thing was a cavity." She bit her finger to hide her grin. "So you haven't told me what you're doing in Watford? What are you here for the reunion or something?"
"Reunion?"
"Yeah, your brother was a senior when you were a freshman, right? The seniors' ten year reunion is on Saturday."
"Uh, yeah, we are. How did you know that?"
"I got roped into being an alumni rep." She said with an eye roll.
"Where the hell were you, Dean?" John yelled at his oldest son as soon as he walked through the door. "I told you to come straight home from the library!"
"I did!" Dean said, startled.
"It's two am, Dean! The library closed six hours ago! Where were you?"
"I got distracted." Dean wiped his mouth, the scent of Juliet still on his fingers.
"No shit, Dean! Tell me where you were. That's an order!"
Dean held up a book, "Research. I had to get an inter-library loan. I drove a couple hours away to get this from the other library. This thing, whatever we're hunting, is a witch. Maybe a whole bunch of them."
John narrowed his eyes, "Give me the book."
Dean handed his father the book, "I also stopped by McDonalds for a burger. Next time I'll eat it in on the road, Sir."
John nodded flipping through the pages, "Good work. Tomorrow morning we'll go over what we have so far."
"Am I dismissed? I want to shower?"
John nodded, "Dismissed."
Dean didn't bother adjusting the temperature of the water before he jumped into the shower. His heart raced panging against his ribs.
"I don't think I'm high anymore," she said, she wasn't looking at him, just staring up at the stars.
"Are you ready to go home?" Dean asked, looking at her.
"No," she shook her head and sighed deeply, "I can't believe that you… that you…"
"I can do a lot more than that, Juliet. All you have to do is ask."
She turned bright red and buried her face in her hands.
He burst out laughing, and took her hands away from her face, "Or are you embarrassed that I paid for your burger."
"God," she buried her face in his shoulder. "I let you pay! I will pay you back. For both those things."
Dean kissed her forehead, "You don't owe me anything."
"No, no. I do," she insisted looking up at him. "I don't have any cash on me though, so you'll have to take an I.O.U."
"Jules, you don't owe me any money."
She sat up, "Okay, so you won't accept my money. I've never done this before, so tell me what feels good."
She unbuttoned his jeans and pulled him out.
"Jules, what are you—Oh my god!" he panted as she took him in her mouth.
She was careful not to touch him with her teeth. She swirled her tongue over his tip, as she pumped him with her hands. He grabbed a fist full of her hair, pushing her lower on him.
"Jules," he growled.
She froze, pulled her mouth off him, looked at him with wide fear-filled eyes, "Did I do something wrong? Did I hurt you?"
Dean breathed deeply, as she moved her hands up and down his length, "No… keep doing what you're doing."
She nodded and took him back in her mouth. She ran her tongue down him as she took him further into her throat. She was going slow, tantalizing him further with her inexperience. She sucked his tip as she moved back up his dick. Dean bit his lip as his hip bucked.
She looked up at him, as she took him deeper into her mouth, her tongue stroking him once more.
"Jules," he said as his hips bucked again.
She hummed, sending vibrations through his body.
She licked the bead of pre-cum off his tip. He pushed her head down again, and she took him deeper. He thrust his hips as the knot in his stomach began to loosen.
She hummed again, as she moved one hand from his shaft to stroke his balls.
Dean shuddered and felt his grip on her hair loosen as came in her mouth. She swallowed, by design or surprise, and looked up at him, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
She didn't say anything as she tucked him back into his pants.
He took her hand and placed it over his heart.
"Is yours beating this fast?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper.
She took his free hand and placed it over her heart.
"Faster."