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phantismaFandom: Supernatural, Keeper!Verse
Title: A Winchester By Any Other Name
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean, Missouri, Dana
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2462
Summary: Keeper!Verse, in the chronology, this comes about 1 months after Not Yet, But I'm Getting There, Dana is three, and Sam has been ruminating on the conversation he had with John regarding his relationship with Dean. He comes home from a trip, and surprises Dean.
A/Ns & Warnings: This started out to be a fluffy interlude...and ended up angsty and stuff. It touches on something that I've not really explored much in previous Keeper bits, that being Sam and how at this point in the chronology he's still got a foot in his old life. This is still a few months before Only For You.
“Hi, I’m Sam Winechrest.” Sam smiled and held out his hand.
Dean choked on his coffee and sputtered. “You’re who?”
Sam frowned and tossed his new ID on the table. “Its an anagram.”
Dean picked up the birth certificate and driver’s license, squinting at the name. “Okay, I know we talked about this…sort of…but when and why and…?”
Sam dropped his wallet on the table and headed for the coffee pot. “While I was…out of town. I called in a favor or two. Figured, we should…you know…” He trailed off and turned his back, pouring the coffee. “If…you don’t want to…” He hid the way the words made his hands shake.
They hadn’t talked about it. Not really. It had been a month. A month since John found out. A month since he’d made Sam really think about it…about what they were doing. He’d been in San Jose, and ran into an old friend who was good at the whole creating believable identities. It was a bit of a spontaneous thought…and three days later, Sam Winchester may as well have never existed.
“It’s a big thing, Sam. Giving up your name like that?”
Sam shrugged, his back still to Dean. “Not really. It only means something to me because it’s yours…and Dana’s.”
He felt Dean approaching, his arms wrapping around Sam from behind. “You’ll always be a Winchester, Sam.” Dean said softly, his lips brushing Sam’s shoulder.
“John was right about this though, Dean. We have to think about it.”
Dean let go and moved away. “I don’t want to think about it. I just want it to be…what it is.”
Sam put his coffee down and turned. “This doesn’t have to change anything. It’s just for them…the outside world.”
Dean huffed and left the little kitchen for the living room, picking up his jacket from where it lay across the chair by the door. Sam followed, stopping by the couch. “You heard about that boy they found in the dumpster in Texas, right?” Sam said softly.
“This isn’t Texas, Sam.”
Sam shook his head. “I just want to make sure you and Dana are safe. It’s one thing to be two men raising a daughter, but if the state ever found out we were something more than lovers, Dean? They could take her away.”
Dean stopped half way through putting his jacket on. It was easy to see he hadn’t thought of that. “It’s time for me to stop hiding out here in this apartment, Dean. I need a job. I need friends that aren’t…the same kind of friends I’ve had in the past. I can’t do that if I’m juggling who knows you as my brother and who knows you as my lover…and what will happen if and when it all goes to hell.”
Dean heaved a sigh and shook his head. “Can we talk about this tonight? I’ve got to get to work now that you’re home.”
“Yeah. Fine.” Sam said.
“Don’t get all pouty. I mean it. We’ll talk about it tonight.” Dean crossed to him and pulled him down to kiss him. “I thawed out those steaks. Oh, and Dana’s got a black eye. She was floating a book and dropped it. She’s okay, but she’ll play it up for sympathy.”
Sam tried to let go of his frustration and smiled for his brother. He hadn’t been able to let go of the fear his talk with his father had raised…and Dean couldn’t seem to understand it…or chose willingly not to. Sam kissed Dean back and nodded. “Go on. I’ve got stuff to do.”
Sam approached Missouri’s door with trepidation. He’d been avoiding her for a while, figuring that now that John knew, now that he wasn’t as diligent with the secret, she would know about him and Dean. He wasn’t exactly good at keeping things from her.
“SamSam, we at ‘Souri’s” Dana asked.
Sam nodded as he rang the bell. “Yes, Dana. This is Missouri’s.”
“Dana play?”
Sam smiled. “Of course, honey. We’re going to play with Missouri.”
It took a lot of work to keep Dana’s growing abilities under wraps, and giving her time to let them all run rampant was as important right now as the bindings Missouri and Sam placed on her the rest of the time. The problem was keeping up with her growth.
Missouri opened the door and reached for Dana, her eyes sweeping over Sam. “Well? Get in here boy. You’re letting in the cold.”
Sam followed her into the den, which she’d made Dana-proof. There was only a couch and the abundance of soft things that Dana could float and throw and explode without much damage to her or the things around her. He felt Missouri flip the switch that held Dana in check and Dana squealed.
“Go on child. You play while I talk to your Uncle.” Missouri set Dana down and Dana went immediately to the pile of toys. They watched her in silence for a while, then Missouri sighed. “You are just a mess today, ain’t you?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it, Missouri.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “You think you can just come in here like this and expect me to let it go?”
Sam crossed his arms, watching Dana floating a stuffed pig. “It’s private.”
“If it were, you’d have it all locked up, wouldn’t you? Did you think I didn’t already know?”
He frowned at her. “I figured you boys would work it all out. But John’s got you twisted right around it, doesn’t he?”
“He’s right, but Dean won’t see it.” He’d given up being surprised by Missouri a long time ago…it was a waste of energy.
Missouri nodded. “Dean’s a stubborn boy. He’s always lived in the moment, never had much thought about what’s ahead.”
“One of us has to.”
He’d thought about leaving…just going away and never coming home…but he was selfish when it came to Dean. And Dana. And this thing…this life that was so different from everything he’d known before.
“So, you think changing your name is going to fix everything?”
Sam shook his head. “No, but it’s a start right? I mean it’s still Kansas and not exactly a place where being gay is acceptable…but Dean’s happy here…and there’s the garage…”
“And what about you Sam? Are you happy here?”
Sam sighed explosively, cringing when Dana echoed it unconsciously. Missouri’s thoughts caressed against him. “You really don’t know, do you?”
Sam shook his head and paced away where his scattered head wouldn’t affect Dana quite as strongly. “I love them, Missouri. I can’t…I can’t not. I’ve tried. When I left, when I went to San Jose…I wasn’t coming back. I was going to just go…away…but…it was like tearing a whole inside me. I’ve never…felt this.”
Missouri smiled at him. “Don’t you let John scare you off Sam. What you and Dean have? That doesn’t come along all that often. You need to fight for it.”
“What if I’m tired of fighting, Missouri?” He didn’t look at her. “He doesn’t want to face it, and some day it’s going to hurt us. Hurt her. If anyone ever finds out…” He sighed. “Sometimes I hate myself. I’m so…weak…anymore. There was a time…” He didn’t finish the thought, and from the look on her face he didn’t need to. He sighed again. “Can you…keep her for a bit? I have some errands to run.”
She nodded. “You just be careful.”
“I always am.”
“Not careful enough.” Missouri said just loud enough that he heard her as he closed the door.
Lawrence, Kansas didn’t exactly have a thriving dark side. It had a few bars where trouble could be found any time of day or night, one where contacts could be made to acquire special items…or to get commissioned to retrieve special items.
The denizens of this bar made room for him when he showed up. He stood in the doorway, towering over the minions that scattered, a plain burlap sack in one hand. His eyes and thoughts flicked out over the room, coming to rest on the dark corner where his contact waited.
“You’re back early, the dry, raspy voice said as the rail thin man sat forward, sucking cigarette smoke into his gaunt face.
“You expected that little ambush to slow me down?” Sam held up the burlap bag. “I got what I went for. You got my money?”
The man pushed a paper bag over on the bench seat. “As agreed.”
Sam set his bag down with one hand and reached for the paper bag with the other. As he let go of the burlap and pulled the paper one to him he grinned. “When I’m safely out of the bar and half way back to downtown, I’ll call with instructions on how to open the container without damaging the head.”
“You shit!”
“Insurance, Don Pedro. My parents taught me well.”
The man’s eyes inked over and the demon’s voice railed at Sam as he moved away, holding up his phone. “I’ll be in touch.”
It wasn’t exactly a legitimate job, but it paid well…and the head was largely worthless, so Sam didn’t feel too bad handing it over. Once upon a time it was a fairly magical thing, the shrunken head of a sorcerer from over a century ago. But the magic was nearly depleted, even if the damn demon didn’t know that.
He waited until he was in the car and had raised the glamour that hid the car from casual view to count the money. Ten thousand dollars. Not bad for a few days work and it more than covered the expenses to set up his new identity.
It was a pretty thorough job, probably the last favor he could request from that particular crowd. Jody had been surprised to see him, and Sam had to sweet talk him into doing the work. It wasn’t as complicated as cleaning up Dean and John’s records a few years ago. New birth certificate, new driver’s license, changing all his college stuff and change the records to indicate he’d finished his degree. It wasn’t quite done…but by the end of the week, Sam Winechrest would be able to go out and find a legitimate job.
Which, admittedly wasn’t something he’d ever thought about…but it seemed like the right step. It was time to take it. Time to stop just existing in Dean’s world.
Cooking wasn’t exactly Sam’s strong suit, but steaks he could manage. The little kitchen always seemed so much smaller when he was in it. He checked the potatoes he had baking in the oven and turned to track where Dana had gone.
One minute she was tugging on his pant leg, then she was gone. He could feel her. She was starting to wind down after an afternoon of having free reign on her gifts, and Missouri’s den was a wreck when they left. He knew Dana would crash soon, but she was usually clingy after Missouri closed the gifts back down.
He moved toward the living room to find her by the coffee table, trying to lift a big book from it. “SamSam help.”
Sam smiled and scooped her up, book and all. “Better.”
“SamSam, ‘ead me?”
He laughed as she pressed the desire into him. “Nice try kiddo…but dinner’s almost ready.”
“Dada?”
“Should be here any minute.”
She nuzzled into him, her face on his shoulder, her thoughts on his, He scanned her, knowing how trying days like this could be on her little body. He was surprised by the growth he could feel, pulsing through her little body…control…then an image came to him, of him and Dean arguing. He stopped in his walk to the kitchen and looked down at her.
Dana’s eyes were big, wide. She followed that image with one of him and Dean kissing. Better.
“Yeah, baby, I know. How about you help me set the table?” Sam extracted the book and tossed it onto the couch before he lifted her to his shoulders. Her head grazed the ceiling. She was going to be tall.
Together they pulled the plates and silverware and Sam sank to his knees to walk around the table so Dana could put the silverware down at their places. The door opened and Dean came in. Dana clapped her hands and pulled on Sam’s hair to turn him around. “Dada home.”
Dean smiled wearily and came to kiss her. “Hey trouble maker, you have fun today?”
“I floated.”
Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I know, baby.” He leaned down to kiss Sam. “And how about you?”
“I didn’t float, but it was a good day. Dinner’s almost ready.”
“Good. I’ll go wash up.”
Dana was asleep, her face in her mashed up baked potato. Dean was still picking at his plate.
“So…are we gonna talk about it?” Sam asked gently.
Dean made a face. “Are you…sure? I mean…it’s who you are, Sam.”
Sam shook his head. “No, Dean. It’s a name.”
“”You’re a Winchester, it’s in your blood.”
“And my blood won’t change because my name does, Dean. Why does it bother you so much?”
Dean was quiet for a long moment, staring at his plate. When he did speak, his voice was quiet, fierce. “Samuel Winchester died once. He was six months old. His father and brother mourned him. Then, he came back.” He looked up at Sam. “Changing your name is like you’re taking my brother away from me again.”
Sam pressed his lips together. He hadn’t anticipated this kind of reaction. He reached across the table for Dean’s hand. “I’m still here, Dean. I’m still your brother.”
Dean’s grimace was slow to fade and Sam licked his lips. “I’ll tell you what… Winechrest is the name I’ll use for official stuff…you know, work and such.” His thumb traced over the back of Dean’s hand. “And you and John and Missouri are the only ones who’ll know that I’m a Winchester…but whenever we’re out on a hunt together or out of town, if I need an alias, I’ll use Winchester, okay?”
Dean nodded slowly. “I know why, Sam. I talked to Dad, and I realize you both…you’re right. It’s just…it feels…wrong.” He pulled Sam’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “It’s going to take some getting used to.”
Sam smiled. “Yes, it is.”
Dean closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. “Okay then, Mr. Winechrest. I’m going to rescue my daughter from her potatoes and put her to bed.” When he opened his eyes and stood, Sam could read lust and desire in them. “I suggest that you clear the table and go prepare yourself for a long night of getting acquainted. I don’t let just anyone into my bed.”
Title: A Winchester By Any Other Name
Pairings/Characters: Sam/Dean, Missouri, Dana
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2462
Summary: Keeper!Verse, in the chronology, this comes about 1 months after Not Yet, But I'm Getting There, Dana is three, and Sam has been ruminating on the conversation he had with John regarding his relationship with Dean. He comes home from a trip, and surprises Dean.
A/Ns & Warnings: This started out to be a fluffy interlude...and ended up angsty and stuff. It touches on something that I've not really explored much in previous Keeper bits, that being Sam and how at this point in the chronology he's still got a foot in his old life. This is still a few months before Only For You.
“Hi, I’m Sam Winechrest.” Sam smiled and held out his hand.
Dean choked on his coffee and sputtered. “You’re who?”
Sam frowned and tossed his new ID on the table. “Its an anagram.”
Dean picked up the birth certificate and driver’s license, squinting at the name. “Okay, I know we talked about this…sort of…but when and why and…?”
Sam dropped his wallet on the table and headed for the coffee pot. “While I was…out of town. I called in a favor or two. Figured, we should…you know…” He trailed off and turned his back, pouring the coffee. “If…you don’t want to…” He hid the way the words made his hands shake.
They hadn’t talked about it. Not really. It had been a month. A month since John found out. A month since he’d made Sam really think about it…about what they were doing. He’d been in San Jose, and ran into an old friend who was good at the whole creating believable identities. It was a bit of a spontaneous thought…and three days later, Sam Winchester may as well have never existed.
“It’s a big thing, Sam. Giving up your name like that?”
Sam shrugged, his back still to Dean. “Not really. It only means something to me because it’s yours…and Dana’s.”
He felt Dean approaching, his arms wrapping around Sam from behind. “You’ll always be a Winchester, Sam.” Dean said softly, his lips brushing Sam’s shoulder.
“John was right about this though, Dean. We have to think about it.”
Dean let go and moved away. “I don’t want to think about it. I just want it to be…what it is.”
Sam put his coffee down and turned. “This doesn’t have to change anything. It’s just for them…the outside world.”
Dean huffed and left the little kitchen for the living room, picking up his jacket from where it lay across the chair by the door. Sam followed, stopping by the couch. “You heard about that boy they found in the dumpster in Texas, right?” Sam said softly.
“This isn’t Texas, Sam.”
Sam shook his head. “I just want to make sure you and Dana are safe. It’s one thing to be two men raising a daughter, but if the state ever found out we were something more than lovers, Dean? They could take her away.”
Dean stopped half way through putting his jacket on. It was easy to see he hadn’t thought of that. “It’s time for me to stop hiding out here in this apartment, Dean. I need a job. I need friends that aren’t…the same kind of friends I’ve had in the past. I can’t do that if I’m juggling who knows you as my brother and who knows you as my lover…and what will happen if and when it all goes to hell.”
Dean heaved a sigh and shook his head. “Can we talk about this tonight? I’ve got to get to work now that you’re home.”
“Yeah. Fine.” Sam said.
“Don’t get all pouty. I mean it. We’ll talk about it tonight.” Dean crossed to him and pulled him down to kiss him. “I thawed out those steaks. Oh, and Dana’s got a black eye. She was floating a book and dropped it. She’s okay, but she’ll play it up for sympathy.”
Sam tried to let go of his frustration and smiled for his brother. He hadn’t been able to let go of the fear his talk with his father had raised…and Dean couldn’t seem to understand it…or chose willingly not to. Sam kissed Dean back and nodded. “Go on. I’ve got stuff to do.”
Sam approached Missouri’s door with trepidation. He’d been avoiding her for a while, figuring that now that John knew, now that he wasn’t as diligent with the secret, she would know about him and Dean. He wasn’t exactly good at keeping things from her.
“SamSam, we at ‘Souri’s” Dana asked.
Sam nodded as he rang the bell. “Yes, Dana. This is Missouri’s.”
“Dana play?”
Sam smiled. “Of course, honey. We’re going to play with Missouri.”
It took a lot of work to keep Dana’s growing abilities under wraps, and giving her time to let them all run rampant was as important right now as the bindings Missouri and Sam placed on her the rest of the time. The problem was keeping up with her growth.
Missouri opened the door and reached for Dana, her eyes sweeping over Sam. “Well? Get in here boy. You’re letting in the cold.”
Sam followed her into the den, which she’d made Dana-proof. There was only a couch and the abundance of soft things that Dana could float and throw and explode without much damage to her or the things around her. He felt Missouri flip the switch that held Dana in check and Dana squealed.
“Go on child. You play while I talk to your Uncle.” Missouri set Dana down and Dana went immediately to the pile of toys. They watched her in silence for a while, then Missouri sighed. “You are just a mess today, ain’t you?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it, Missouri.”
“Oh?” She raised an eyebrow. “You think you can just come in here like this and expect me to let it go?”
Sam crossed his arms, watching Dana floating a stuffed pig. “It’s private.”
“If it were, you’d have it all locked up, wouldn’t you? Did you think I didn’t already know?”
He frowned at her. “I figured you boys would work it all out. But John’s got you twisted right around it, doesn’t he?”
“He’s right, but Dean won’t see it.” He’d given up being surprised by Missouri a long time ago…it was a waste of energy.
Missouri nodded. “Dean’s a stubborn boy. He’s always lived in the moment, never had much thought about what’s ahead.”
“One of us has to.”
He’d thought about leaving…just going away and never coming home…but he was selfish when it came to Dean. And Dana. And this thing…this life that was so different from everything he’d known before.
“So, you think changing your name is going to fix everything?”
Sam shook his head. “No, but it’s a start right? I mean it’s still Kansas and not exactly a place where being gay is acceptable…but Dean’s happy here…and there’s the garage…”
“And what about you Sam? Are you happy here?”
Sam sighed explosively, cringing when Dana echoed it unconsciously. Missouri’s thoughts caressed against him. “You really don’t know, do you?”
Sam shook his head and paced away where his scattered head wouldn’t affect Dana quite as strongly. “I love them, Missouri. I can’t…I can’t not. I’ve tried. When I left, when I went to San Jose…I wasn’t coming back. I was going to just go…away…but…it was like tearing a whole inside me. I’ve never…felt this.”
Missouri smiled at him. “Don’t you let John scare you off Sam. What you and Dean have? That doesn’t come along all that often. You need to fight for it.”
“What if I’m tired of fighting, Missouri?” He didn’t look at her. “He doesn’t want to face it, and some day it’s going to hurt us. Hurt her. If anyone ever finds out…” He sighed. “Sometimes I hate myself. I’m so…weak…anymore. There was a time…” He didn’t finish the thought, and from the look on her face he didn’t need to. He sighed again. “Can you…keep her for a bit? I have some errands to run.”
She nodded. “You just be careful.”
“I always am.”
“Not careful enough.” Missouri said just loud enough that he heard her as he closed the door.
Lawrence, Kansas didn’t exactly have a thriving dark side. It had a few bars where trouble could be found any time of day or night, one where contacts could be made to acquire special items…or to get commissioned to retrieve special items.
The denizens of this bar made room for him when he showed up. He stood in the doorway, towering over the minions that scattered, a plain burlap sack in one hand. His eyes and thoughts flicked out over the room, coming to rest on the dark corner where his contact waited.
“You’re back early, the dry, raspy voice said as the rail thin man sat forward, sucking cigarette smoke into his gaunt face.
“You expected that little ambush to slow me down?” Sam held up the burlap bag. “I got what I went for. You got my money?”
The man pushed a paper bag over on the bench seat. “As agreed.”
Sam set his bag down with one hand and reached for the paper bag with the other. As he let go of the burlap and pulled the paper one to him he grinned. “When I’m safely out of the bar and half way back to downtown, I’ll call with instructions on how to open the container without damaging the head.”
“You shit!”
“Insurance, Don Pedro. My parents taught me well.”
The man’s eyes inked over and the demon’s voice railed at Sam as he moved away, holding up his phone. “I’ll be in touch.”
It wasn’t exactly a legitimate job, but it paid well…and the head was largely worthless, so Sam didn’t feel too bad handing it over. Once upon a time it was a fairly magical thing, the shrunken head of a sorcerer from over a century ago. But the magic was nearly depleted, even if the damn demon didn’t know that.
He waited until he was in the car and had raised the glamour that hid the car from casual view to count the money. Ten thousand dollars. Not bad for a few days work and it more than covered the expenses to set up his new identity.
It was a pretty thorough job, probably the last favor he could request from that particular crowd. Jody had been surprised to see him, and Sam had to sweet talk him into doing the work. It wasn’t as complicated as cleaning up Dean and John’s records a few years ago. New birth certificate, new driver’s license, changing all his college stuff and change the records to indicate he’d finished his degree. It wasn’t quite done…but by the end of the week, Sam Winechrest would be able to go out and find a legitimate job.
Which, admittedly wasn’t something he’d ever thought about…but it seemed like the right step. It was time to take it. Time to stop just existing in Dean’s world.
Cooking wasn’t exactly Sam’s strong suit, but steaks he could manage. The little kitchen always seemed so much smaller when he was in it. He checked the potatoes he had baking in the oven and turned to track where Dana had gone.
One minute she was tugging on his pant leg, then she was gone. He could feel her. She was starting to wind down after an afternoon of having free reign on her gifts, and Missouri’s den was a wreck when they left. He knew Dana would crash soon, but she was usually clingy after Missouri closed the gifts back down.
He moved toward the living room to find her by the coffee table, trying to lift a big book from it. “SamSam help.”
Sam smiled and scooped her up, book and all. “Better.”
“SamSam, ‘ead me?”
He laughed as she pressed the desire into him. “Nice try kiddo…but dinner’s almost ready.”
“Dada?”
“Should be here any minute.”
She nuzzled into him, her face on his shoulder, her thoughts on his, He scanned her, knowing how trying days like this could be on her little body. He was surprised by the growth he could feel, pulsing through her little body…control…then an image came to him, of him and Dean arguing. He stopped in his walk to the kitchen and looked down at her.
Dana’s eyes were big, wide. She followed that image with one of him and Dean kissing. Better.
“Yeah, baby, I know. How about you help me set the table?” Sam extracted the book and tossed it onto the couch before he lifted her to his shoulders. Her head grazed the ceiling. She was going to be tall.
Together they pulled the plates and silverware and Sam sank to his knees to walk around the table so Dana could put the silverware down at their places. The door opened and Dean came in. Dana clapped her hands and pulled on Sam’s hair to turn him around. “Dada home.”
Dean smiled wearily and came to kiss her. “Hey trouble maker, you have fun today?”
“I floated.”
Dean chuckled. “Yeah, I know, baby.” He leaned down to kiss Sam. “And how about you?”
“I didn’t float, but it was a good day. Dinner’s almost ready.”
“Good. I’ll go wash up.”
Dana was asleep, her face in her mashed up baked potato. Dean was still picking at his plate.
“So…are we gonna talk about it?” Sam asked gently.
Dean made a face. “Are you…sure? I mean…it’s who you are, Sam.”
Sam shook his head. “No, Dean. It’s a name.”
“”You’re a Winchester, it’s in your blood.”
“And my blood won’t change because my name does, Dean. Why does it bother you so much?”
Dean was quiet for a long moment, staring at his plate. When he did speak, his voice was quiet, fierce. “Samuel Winchester died once. He was six months old. His father and brother mourned him. Then, he came back.” He looked up at Sam. “Changing your name is like you’re taking my brother away from me again.”
Sam pressed his lips together. He hadn’t anticipated this kind of reaction. He reached across the table for Dean’s hand. “I’m still here, Dean. I’m still your brother.”
Dean’s grimace was slow to fade and Sam licked his lips. “I’ll tell you what… Winechrest is the name I’ll use for official stuff…you know, work and such.” His thumb traced over the back of Dean’s hand. “And you and John and Missouri are the only ones who’ll know that I’m a Winchester…but whenever we’re out on a hunt together or out of town, if I need an alias, I’ll use Winchester, okay?”
Dean nodded slowly. “I know why, Sam. I talked to Dad, and I realize you both…you’re right. It’s just…it feels…wrong.” He pulled Sam’s hand up to his mouth and kissed it. “It’s going to take some getting used to.”
Sam smiled. “Yes, it is.”
Dean closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. “Okay then, Mr. Winechrest. I’m going to rescue my daughter from her potatoes and put her to bed.” When he opened his eyes and stood, Sam could read lust and desire in them. “I suggest that you clear the table and go prepare yourself for a long night of getting acquainted. I don’t let just anyone into my bed.”
