WHO: Sam Winchester, Kate Bishop WHEN: Saturday night. WHERE: 505V. WHAT: Kate makes good on her full monty bet. It turns into so much more than that. WARNINGS: Sex. Nudity. A whole lot of innuendo.
"You know," Sam said, once the door was closed behind them, one hand awkwardly rubbing at his cheek, "You don't have to do this. I won't hold you to it."
He knew she'd wanted him to lose the bet. Frankly, he'd have felt much more comfortable losing, too. Even though he hadn't lied about the results-- and even though it had been her idea, and she'd known there was a chance she'd lose-- he still felt as if he was tricking her into it. Making her feel obligated to hold up her end of the bargain, which was basically to strip for him.
As a general rule, he didn't like making any woman feel obligated to do anything with him, and he was also much more at ease with his own discomfort than anyone else's. No matter how much he liked the idea of seeing her naked, the awkwardness of the whole situation took away from it a little bit. A lot, really.
"I didn't have to see my roommate naked. I think that's enough of a win, really."
Already the large sweater that Kate wore over everything was yanked over her head, her back to him. It was somehow too hot in this room, and she hadn't even gotten to the stuff to be concerned with yet. Kate wasn't worried about her body; she was in impeccable shape. Working out and watching what you eat every day did that. It was nice to see what a little hard work would do. She had insecurities like anyone else. Scars from fights, that one tooth that was always loose now that it had been knocked out, the occasional stretch mark.
"If it was the other way around, and I said, Sam, you don't have to do this. I'm not going to hold you to it, what would you say?" It wasn't an actual question so much as plainly spoken. She'd have made sure that he kept to his word, if things were reversed. Kate didn't think there was anything wrong with being naked, especially not with consent. Their bet was consent. Their bet was her way of saying, I wouldn't mind getting naked for you.
She lost her shoes (and socks), inching them under the bed with her toes. Her eyebrows darted upward as she waited for his answer.
There wasn't a single ounce of hesitation that Sam could see in her movements, which lent an extra weight to what she was saying. He conceded the point with a slightly sheepish grin. "I'd say that you'd won fair and square, and I'd go ahead and do it anyway," he said. At least, he would have done something of the sort. If she'd told him he could back out, he might have wondered whether she really wanted him to do it, and then…
Well, he should probably stop talking before he accidentally gave her that idea. If he hadn't already. "Alright. Never mind that, then."
Awkwardly, he ran a hand through his hair as he tried to figure out what to do with himself. After a moment, deciding that it might make this a little less awkward for both of them, he moved over to sit down on the bed, shoulders curved slightly forward with his hands clasped near his knees. Closer to her, more on her level. He watched her with a little intent furrow in his brow, but patiently, interested but not expectant, gaze mostly focused on her face even as he kept track of her movements.
"That's what I thought."
When she'd first arrived here, Kate was not in any mindset for dating or even being interested in anyone. Noh-Varr's betrayal and break-up (during a battle, no less) stung her more than she wanted to admit. He'd been her first live-in boyfriend. So it had been by necessity and the rest of the Young Avengers had been there, but they'd shared a bed and spent months together. Kate had grown accustomed to the stability and letting herself get a little lost in their relationship. It had been so different than the constant bickering with Eli. She and Noh-Varr got along, they never bickered, always seemed to be on the same page. There was a symmetry there that she found lacking in a lot of her other relationships.
Maybe that's why he'd gone behind her back with one of their enemies. One of his exes. Kate had spent some of the months in Los Angeles wondering what it was that she lacked that Oubliette had. There was the obvious leather and kink thing she had going on, and yeah, Kate and Noh never fought. She had superpowers, Kate didn't. Oubliette was immoral and psychotic (Noh's words, not hers), and Kate was not. She was pragmatic and generous in comparison. Oubliette was the girl of Noh's dreams, literally in this case as it turned out.
So yeah, she wasn't interested or looking when she started talking to Sam Winchester, but the more she did, the more time they spent, the less she could argue her way of her developing attraction to him. It didn't start out as the full monty, but here they were, and there went Kate's shirt. With a laugh, she tossed it at his head and then moved to unbutton her pants. It was suddenly a whole lot chillier than she'd like, but not enough to stop her. "I wouldn't say no to a little encouragement."
The shirt to the face took him by surprise, but made Sam laugh. His fingers caught in the hem of it, and he tugged it down from his head, but not before noticing that the cloth was warm, and had a faint scent of her skin. Then it was in his hands, and, for lack of any other ideas of what to do with it, he folded it in half and set it on the bed beside him.
"What kind of encouragement did you have in mind?" he asked, voice a little rougher than usual, but amused. He cleared his throat and, after momentarily getting distracted by the skin she'd bared, met her eyes again, a much more lighthearted and entertained look in his eyes this time. "I forgot my pom poms back in another universe."
There was a quiet plink as the button popped. Kate sucked in a breath as the air caused tiny goose bumps over the tops of her legs and ass as she pulled the jeans down. Still bent over, she drew her eyes up to study Sam's face for a moment, utterly aware that he was getting an eyeful of her purple-covered boobs. One corner of her mouth drew upward in a crooked smile as she locked eyes with him for just a moment before returning to the task at hand. She stepped out of the jeans and kicked them to the side.
"The look on your face might be enough." She reached behind her and pretended to fumble with the clasp on her bra. Drawing it out wasn't always a bad thing. "Maybe. I'm not 100% sure yet. Might want to keep brainstorming."
It was cold in the room, but Sam's blood had heated enough that he didn't feel it. He also had the advantage of still being dressed, of course. He was aware enough of it to realize that she might be cold, but there was no way for him to do or say anything about it without seeming incredibly forward. The amusement faded a little bit from his face as he watched her, but returned again almost instantly when she spoke.
Clearing his throat again, he glanced briefly down at his hands, giving himself a brief moment undistracted by the sight of her in order to make his thoughts more coherent. "Well," he said, glancing back up at her, "You seemed… interested… in my tattoo." With a small smile, one corner of his mouth quirked up higher than the other, he added, "We didn't make a rule that said the winner of the bet had to keep all of their clothes on, did we?"
"Well, I didn't want to be the one to suggest it," Kate answered, her eyes widening in amusement. She straightened her back and shoulder, arms still tinkering with the clasp and chest heaved out. It was about as strategic a move as you could get, and she thought she might have learned it from a movie somewhere. Probably something with strippers. "But now that you mention it."
Instead of working the clasp, she let her arms drop from behind her back. She only had one pair of good undergarments here, and as luck would have it, they matched. There was something to be said for buying everything in sets. One hand rose to twirl in the air. "I could really use the encouragement right about now."
Sam laughed. "No, you were very subtle about it." It was funny because she really wasn't being subtle at all, but he wasn't complaining. If not for her willingness to be so forward, they probably wouldn't be here right now. He was better at following someone else's lead, in this case.
Briefly raising his eyebrows at her, still smiling a little crookedly, he straightened his spine and raised his hands to start undoing the buttons of his shirt. Deliberately, but not too slowly, his gaze fixed on hers, until he'd reached the last button, and then he shrugged out of it. The tattoo over his heart, to ward off demon possession, stood out starkly black against his skin.
And then, not entirely comfortable with maintaining the intensity of their eye contact-- mostly because it felt too cocky, maybe not entirely genuine on his part, like he was showing himself off (even if that was pretty much what he was doing)-- he dropped his gaze just for a second before meeting her eyes again, a softer expression on his face. He swallowed, and then offered her a little smile, waiting for her reaction.
Oh. That was interesting. That slight change in smile, the more earnest expression, ignited a warm feeling in the center of her chest. It was just a small bubble, but it was enough to force her own change. Though the playfulness was still there, it was mutable and melted into something more genuine. Her own smile softened as she stepped forward. She reached her hand out to trace the star in the center of the tattoo, but stopped short.
"What's the rules on touching?" she asked, drawing her fixation from the tattoo back to his face. That was when she realized just how close they were now. She was inside his personal space. Kate could swear there was electricity in the air. Her hand still hovered in the air in front of him. "I think we forgot about that."
Sam's breath caught when she came closer, a small shiver of anticipation going down his spine, and then she stopped short. He could feel the electricity too, as keenly as the chill in the air. His gaze had lowered from her face, down to the hand that was reaching out to him, but when she stopped, he looked back up. He got a very good look at the rest of her at the same time, without really intending to, but it was enough to make his heart beat just that little bit faster.
"I think I'll allow it," he said, voice a little rough. He swallowed, and met her eyes more fully. "What about you?"
She was within reach, and he really wanted to touch, to feel, but she was right. That hadn't been a part of their agreement, and he wasn't going to break the rules. His hands hadn't moved since he'd set his shirt aside, resting lightly on his thighs, which were still covered by his jeans.
"I think…" Her voice was low. With his permission, she moved one step further into his personal bubble by easing a leg between his knees. He had such damn long legs that it wasn't as if she was on top of him, but the rough fabric of his jeans against her bare knee still made her shiver. "I think I'd be disappointed if you didn't."
Finally, those fingers of hers inched forward. Her pointer circled the edge of the tattoo before her other arm moved to rest on his shoulder. The star was interesting. It deserved more attention than the circle. Her other leg followed, and now she was close enough to feel his breath in the air between them. She still had some clothing to take off, but now she was kind of hoping he'd finish it for her.
As soon as Sam had permission to touch her, it became immediately obvious that the way he'd been holding himself so still had nothing to do with nervousness or lack of confidence, it was simply self-control. He reached out, hands steady and sure, one resting on her hip for a moment. The other hand moved over her stomach, to her waist, to the small of her back, until his arm had curled around her waist, encouraging her to come closer.
He tilted his head up to look at her, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips, but the intent look was back in his eyes, his breathing a little unsteady as her fingertips traced over his skin. He didn't bother to reply aloud, communicating silently instead, with a flick of his gaze down to her mouth and back up to her eyes, as he leaned in, closing part of the distance between them, until he was close enough for a kiss.
But even if he didn't say it, he intended to make sure she wasn't disappointed.
First kisses were tricky. Getting the symbiosis right took time to figure out. There was usually mishaps with noses and teeth, with someone being overeager while the other needed to take a breath. Hands were often misplaced or tickling skin that broke the mood. Sometimes, two people just didn't click. That was not the case here.
A good first kiss was memorable. It left her whimpering for the second, breathless and eager. Kate had spent a good chunk of her time here at the end of the world wondering what it would be like to kiss Sam Winchester and devising all kinds of scenarios in her head. There were idle thoughts about his hands and how they'd feel on the small of her back or in her hair. She tried to imagine what kind of noises he'd make, if he'd call her name or just leave it at ragged breathing. Would he be tentative or more possessive?
It didn't take long to get her answers, and when all was said and done, Kate was spent. More spent than she'd been in a good long time. She flopped back against the bed, drenched in sweat, but with a tired smile on her face. Sometimes she really wished for super stamina.
"Holy crap." If her voice sounded hoarse, well, it wasn't for lack of use. "That was... "
Sam had had his share of less than comfortable encounters, albeit usually in a different way. For a long while, ever since Jess had died, even more so since Madison, he felt guilty and worried, afraid that simply by liking someone he'd end up bringing them harm. Then there was the self-hatred that had come along with everything that had happened with Ruby, and the extra guilt of knowing that whoever he was with probably wouldn't have wanted anything to do with him if they'd really known him.
All of those sentiments were still here with him tonight, but for the first time in a while he'd been able to put them mostly aside. He couldn't do anything for the loves he'd lost, and he didn't want to cause Kate any trouble, but she'd already proven she was capable of handling a lot more than most. She also knew him better, had at least a vague notion of how much darkness he was carrying around, even if she didn't know exactly how deep it went. From the calm way she'd handled their conversations about it, he suspected she had enough experience with darkness, the supernatural, and inhuman to be able to take at least most of the things he could tell her in stride.
He hadn't realized what a relief it would be to let so much of that baggage go, not to have it right at the back of his mind, ready to creep back up on him again as soon as he regained his rational mind. He'd already found his conversations with her strangely cathartic, but this was… well, this felt really, really good. Better than he'd felt in a while, and better than he'd expected to feel again.
Good enough that he wasn't going to let himself overthink it, not yet. That could come later. Right now, he was wiped, drained by the sheer amount of energy-- physical and emotional-- that he'd spent in the moment. His self-control was immense, but past a certain point, he simply didn't bother with it. The real trick was to read the room correctly in the moments leading up to a kiss, to make sure she was ready, and that part was something that he usually tended to get right. Reading people, understanding their emotions, was something that Sam had always been naturally good at. In cases like this it wasn't just an advantage to him, but to both of them.
He ended up beside her, not quite lying entirely on his side, partially on his stomach, with one arm propping him up just a little, head turned to look at her. A small smile appeared on his face as he took in the satisfaction and exhaustion in her limbs, her expression, and her voice-- and then he closed his eyes for a moment, to savor it. "Mm," he responded, just a quiet sound of agreement.
Kate let her neck loll to the side so that she could face him with that lazy smile. It was only for an instant before she rolled onto her side so that she could press a soft kiss against his mouth, tasting the salt from their sweat on his lips. She lingered there for a moment before reaching for a pillow to prop herself up with. The pillows here were made with real bird feathers, and weren't constructed to the levels that Kate was accustomed to (which made Kate feel like a spoilt brat), but she'd gotten used to a trailer on the beach. Getting used to a bunker in a mountain should be a piece of cake.
Especially when she had someone like Sam around. She might have missed home more than she did if he wasn't. Did he even exist in her world? For dimension hopping, this place wasn't as bad as it could have been. There was no sign of the Kree (in attack or just the one specific Kree) or the Skrulls, and Mother was banished in a gross splat of what was it? It sort of felt like putty. All they had here were Grounders to worry about, and those were just people.
"I can't feel my limbs," Kate snickered. "I am boneless right now."
Sam's eyes opened part of the way when he felt her move closer, but then closed again when she kissed him, a light touch that he returned, equally softly. There was no point in lying to himself about it: he really liked Kate. He never succeeded in not getting emotionally invested even when he wanted to, because by the time he tried, it was already too late. He'd even cared about the people he really shouldn't have.
But the gentleness of the kiss, the quiet intimacy of the moment, made it obvious that he was already in over his head. It scared him, and he mentally acknowledged the fear before pushing it away. He shifted more onto his side, one long arm snaking around Kate's waist. There was no running away from this, no point when he could imagine himself leaving Mount Weather, unless it was to disappear back to his home world the way he came. So the only real move to make now was to throw himself on her mercy and hope for the best. The prospect terrified him, but there were much worse ways this could end than with her rejecting him. It was a risk he was willing to take.
His smile returned, widening quickly in amusement. "I'm pretty sure you're still all in one piece," he said, shifting his legs closer to hers, his hand moving briefly to brush over both her shoulders to find her arms. "Mmhm. There you are." He paused for a beat, then added lightly, "Your limbs were working just fine a minute ago. I think you'll be alright."
"Yeaaah, that was before…" Kate's eyebrows darted up in a quick motion, waggled a few times, before she smoothed her features once more. There was still a little playfulness there, even if she was exhausted. Ah, but it was so worth it. All she wanted was to spend the rest of the night tangled up with him.
She shifted closer because somehow the distance between them, mere inches, was too far. She needed to be touching him, as if she was worried he might disappear from beside her. Kate let her fingers walk gently down his arm from his shoulder to his fingers. His hands dwarfed hers in a way that any other time, she'd tease him about, but here and now, she was intent on rolling the calloused skin of her palm over his knuckles and toying with his fingers.
"I'm not complaining. Just stating for the record," Kate whispered, as if they had to be quiet. She turned to look at his once more. "I've wanted to kiss you pretty much from the moment I laid eyes on you. I'd say I showed remarkable restraint."
Sam gave a little huff of laughter, more an exhalation than anything else, and turned his face slightly towards the pillow. Confident as he was in the heat of the moment, this was the part that flustered him: talking about it. He didn't mind, though-- even though he suspected that she was intentionally trying to fluster him. She'd said she was going to, after all.
He turned his head back after a moment, shifting ever so slightly to accommodate her being closer to him. His skin felt so sensitive that the softest brush of hers against it made him swallow, and the fingertips moving over his skin sent little pleasant shivers down his spine. He probably couldn't have managed to speak right then even if he'd wanted to, but instead just watched her, expression unguarded, the look in his eyes soft and warm. It seemed important to let her explore his skin without distraction, so he didn't move away or try to touch her in return, except to gently curl his fingers around hers, fingertips almost accidentally brushing her wrist.
"I remember," he said, with a small smile. He'd come in talking about heaven, because that was literally where he'd been. This was better than what heaven was really like, though-- of course, that wasn't much of a comparison, given how his adventures behind the veil had turned out. "Thanks for taking it easy on me."
"Well, now that I know you can handle it, there'll be no taking anything easy on you, Winchester." Her fingers traced the hard lines of the muscles of his arms before heading down his chest. It was nice to be able to explore so freely, but she couldn't help but want a road map. He'd mentioned the tattoo and the scars, but that his resurrection meant all of those were gone. Now that she was thinking about it, she realized there wasn't a single blemish in his skin.
Kate leaned up once more, this time kissing the hollow of his throat. She could feel his heart beating beneath her lips. She paused for a moment to listen, taking the time to rest and curled her body around him the best she could in this position. One leg inched between his, and that was about as close as she was going to be able to get. It'd have to do.
She wasn't interested in comparing the two, because they were vastly different people, but what had happened stung her. She'd let herself lead with her heart, and what had it gotten her? Very burned. "Two questions." She paused. "One. Do I get you all to myself for the rest of the night? And two. You said you had scars. I want to know where they were."
A low chuckle rumbled in Sam's chest. "Bring it on," he said, tiredly. Then he added, "But maybe let me catch my breath, first."
Although he hadn't blatantly stated it outright, he was also spent. His breathing wasn't actually very labored anymore, although it was a little shallower and faster than usual, simply because of her proximity. His inhale caught briefly when he felt her lips brush against his throat, and his eyelids fluttered closed. He lifted his chin ever so slightly, making room for her head to fit beneath it, and in response, he ran his fingertips up from the small of her back, tracing her spine. When he felt her hair, he threaded his fingers through it, cradling the back of her head. And then he settled in against her, twining his legs around hers, brushing a soft kiss against her temple.
The first question brought a small smile to his face. "Up to you," he said. "If you're not kicking me out, then I'll stay." The second question was a harder one to answer, partially because there had been so many scars, some large and some small, and if he was being totally honest he probably wasn't going to remember them all. But he remembered some.
He let go of her hair and reached for her hand, fingers curling around hers. "I should have a few right here," he said, guiding her fingertips to his chest. He pointed out the places that he remembered, where he'd felt pain for just an instant before he'd died. Then, still holding her hand, he drew it behind his back to help her trace the line in the center of his spine where he'd been stabbed the first time he'd died. "And I had a big scar right here. From literally being stabbed in the back."
"Oh look. I'm already snug and cozy. You're not going anywhere." It felt so good to be wanted and intimate. Kate almost forgot what it was like. She often struggled with intimacy, but that was par for the course, all things considered. Eli had never been much of a talker, and they hadn't gotten this far in their relationship. Noh was a different being all together. This was warm and comfortable, and she attributed it completely to Sam. He had this way about him that was inviting, and yes, open. She knew he had secrets, but he'd never hidden the fact that he did. The way he talked about them, she knew they were wounds he just wasn't ready to open. Maybe he never would be, but that was okay. She may never talk to anyone aside from her therapist (and Jessica Jones, oddly) about her assault. In many ways, she didn't think it mattered in who she was as a person (and yet, it had shaped the last few years).
The scar at his back gave her pause though. She knew enough basic medical to know a wound in his spine was deadly. A wound this large though? She couldn't imagine how he survived and was able to walk. Her fingers lingered there, as she looked up at him, face full of concern. "I'm not an idiot though. That scar… that wound would have been mortal." She swallowed hard, trying hard not to think about Sam dying. "What -- happened? How did you…?" Sam really didn't have any intention of moving. He was guarded in some respects, but once he'd made the decision to be more honest with someone-- and in this case, once he'd started to like them-- he didn't usually hold back, with the exception of his darker, nastier secrets. Intimacy was one of the things that his life usually lacked, and having found it here, he wasn't inclined to let it go easily.
Besides, she was right. At this point it would have taken effort to disentangle himself, and that just sounded like too much work.
It was strange, touching his own back and feeling smooth skin instead of the scar that had been there for so long. That was the difference between being resurrected by angels as opposed to demons, he supposed. "I didn't survive it, if that's what you're asking," he said, quietly. "My brother made a deal with a demon to bring me back." He gave her a slightly sad smile. "Apparently the two of us die more than anyone else on the planet."
She couldn't speak for a moment; her emotions got tangled up in her throat. She'd known that he died a few times, because he'd said so, but hearing about how, that was more painful than she'd expected. Literally stabbed in the back. Her fingers tightened around his hand as she drew in a deep breath.
It reminded her of Cassie. Cassie had raged against Dr. Doom when she'd thought Doom had killed her father (again), and in the aftermath of the explosion, there was nothing they could do to keep her from succumbing to her wounds. It had been too painful. Cassie was the reason she had even been able to become a Young Avenger. Without the young woman finding her at the hospital and letting her tag along, Kate never would have met them. All roads would have led… somewhere else. But maybe not to Cassie's death.
Kate wondered if she could have made a deal to bring Cassie back. Would she? What would she sacrifice for her friend? "Yeah, that's... " Kate swallowed in a dry throat. "Don't die here, okay?"
She'd already known that he'd died, and taken it in stride, so the emotional reaction surprised Sam a little bit. But not really, in retrospect, because she was a lot more emotionally invested in him now; he could tell from the way she touched him, pressed against him.
He tightened his grip on her hand in return, wanting to reassure her that he was very much alive. Then he let go of her hand, only to wrap both of his arms around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "Okay," he said, even though he knew that wasn't a promise he could keep. There were more scars, more deaths he could have told her about, past and future, but this definitely wasn't the time. Maybe there wasn't going to be a good time. This might be something he ended up keeping to himself.
After a moment, he said, "Sorry. My pillow talk needs work."
"Don't be sorry. I want to know you," she answered, snuggling in and closing her eyes. She let herself go limp against him. She shrugged. "It's just -- I've lost people before too, you know? People are always dying in our world. Some of them come back, and others don't, and even when they come back, they're always changed. They're always different. Darker. Less carefree. And it makes me wonder just how many times you can go through that before you're not the same person anymore."
She'd been grateful not to be among those who had died. One day, her time might be up. Living was hard enough with experiences and people coming and going in a myriad of ways. What would she be like if she died and came back? It was hard enough picking up the pieces after her father's betrayal.
She sighed and looked up at him from her spot against his chest. "It's not like they have angel resurrection care here or demon deals, you know?"
It was interesting to know that she knew people who'd come back before, too. Sam was curious about how, but he didn't want to press for details on such a depressing subject. Not right now, at least. There was a time and a place for that, and he would've preferred to hold onto the contentment they'd both been feeling moments earlier. "Yeah, I know what you mean," he said, thinking of Dean coming back from hell. "I think losing other people has changed me more than dying myself, though."
Which wasn't a better or less depressing topic. He sighed, ruefully accepting that the little bubble of happiness wasn't going to last forever, although it might be regained at some point. She was still here, after all. But… "My life's pretty dark. I'll tell you what you want to know, but… just so you know what you're getting yourself into."
He threaded his fingers back into her hair. That probably wasn't enough of a warning for getting involved with him, all things considered, but he just couldn't bring himself to try to push her away. It was horribly selfish of him, and he knew he'd regret it later. So he tacked on, "I know. I'll do my best. Danger and trouble tend to follow me around."
She was grateful he'd offered. As much as she didn't want to pry (who was she kidding, she was insatiably curious), she also didn't want to scare him off by asking a hundred questions all at once. Which was her instinct. Kate had to force herself to relax and just enjoy the moment and not litter it with more questions. There were demons in their world, but they sounded like the stuff of nightmares in his world. The kind of stories you would never want to tell anyone. In her world, you barely ever saw them. She couldn't remember ever seeing one (besides the demonic version of herself in that one dimension… which she didn't count because she'd run as fast as she could in the other direction).
There were parts of her life that were pretty dark as well, and they were things she'd never even spoken to with most of the Young Avengers. There was just never a time to talk about your philanthropist mother's murder or your sexual assault. Kate usually saved it for her shrink, and that just didn't do much in her regular day-to-day life.
Still… knowing the things she did about Sam, she could see herself opening up about it. At some point anyway. She just wasn't going to volunteer the information. "My dad always told me my middle name should have been Trouble, but my mom decided to go with Elizabeth behind his back." She draped her arm across his waist and rested a little more easily. "Remind me to tell you about all the danger and trouble I got into when I was LA. Very shady stuff going on there. I briefly became a stalker."
"Kate Trouble Bishop," Sam said thoughtfully. "It does have a nice ring to it." He gave a slight smile, relaxing on cue as she did the same, and closed his eyes briefly. As nice as it was to be able to talk to her, he wasn't relishing the prospect of coming clean with everything. Dying was one thing. The things he'd actually done while alive were another. And then there was the fact that he was basically the human incarnation of Lucifer.
But he had bested Lucifer, so that had to mean something, right? That he was stronger. That he wasn't the person Lucifer thought he was. He really wanted to believe that, and he also really hoped that she would believe it, whenever she found out. Eventually one of his stories would lead back there. His whole life could be traced back to Lucifer, when it came down to it.
"Who'd you stalk?" he asked, vaguely amused. "Or… right. You can tell me later."
"That," Kate said with a sleepy smile. For the first time since she got to this dimension, Kate let all the anxiety about this place ride out on a wave. She imagined the stress of finding herself in another dimension and without most of her friends draining away with the cooling sweat. Something about Sam Winchester just made her feel as if she could let go. "Is a long story that begins and ends with another Hawkeye."
Her hand blindly reached down for the sheet and blanket, patting down her leg and over his until she felt the roughness of the fabric. She tugged it up and over the pair of them. "Maybe at breakfast. Maybe over terrible tea but real eggs."
A vague part of the back of his mind remembered reading something about this on the network, a conversation she'd had. It had also involved something about a breakup, and this really didn't seem the time to bring up anything related to an ex-boyfriend. It hadn't seemed like anything he needed to worry about, but it was something that would probably come up eventually.
He wasn't cold, but the blanket was nice, comforting. It lulled him a little bit, and the last bit of tension in his body drained away, his limbs relaxing where they twined around hers. "Been a while since I had breakfast," he mused, a little sleepily. "I mean, with... " He trailed off. "Anyway, it sounds nice."
It was a tiny blip, what he'd just said, but the fact remained that he'd chosen her to have his first breakfast in "a while." There was something to be said for seemingly innocuous comments. That was how Kate picked up clues, made deductions. It was wildly different than the straight up creeping she'd done in Los Angeles. It always made her feel a little smarter than the average bear when she could read someone right.
So if he hadn't had breakfast with…, then maybe she could make it special somehow. This'd be much easier at home. Spend some stupid amount of a chef to make egg white omelettes with futzing roses or something. It did give her an idea, though. Maybe she could manage to wake up earlier than him and grab them breakfast. Kate thought she could skip her morning run, just this once. "Do you snore?"
That got a small smile out of Sam. "I don't think so," he said. "You'll have to tell me in the morning."
It might've been naive to hope that this would even last until morning. He didn't have the best track record with that kind of thing. And even if it did, the longer it lasted, would that mean it ended even worse? For her, that was.
He didn't want to think about that, so he did his best to push it out of his mind. He tucked his head a little protectively over hers, getting a whiff of her hair in the process, and let out a slow breath.
"Okay," Kate mumbled, barely above a whisper. "But if I poke you in the night, it's because you're snoring in my ear." She doubt he'd snore, and if he did, she could sleep like the dead when she was this exhausted. Her grip on his relaxed to the point that it was barely a clutch, and she drooped into that straight in between realm of not quite asleep, not quite awake. She was still away of things outside of her own head, but in a dull, vague way. It would only be a few seconds before she completely fell right to sleep.
For the first time in a while, Kate Bishop was looking forward to waking up.