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Sierra Winchester Sierra Winchester
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Late Night Escapades

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She had a friend.

Not quite sure what this is about or even where my mind came up with it. If you want to, imagine it is Sam or Dean Winchester. Or whoever else you feel suited.

He walked into the quaint loft only to be greeted by silence. A silence so complete he could practically hear the shift in the air. He was the only one that was awake in the house and the charge in the air let him know.

She had called him hours before, voice shaking and her tears practically dripping through the receiver to drown him.Yet again, her parents had gone at it. They were in the midst of a divorce, but until all was settled they were both too stubborn to move out of the house and away from each other. Therefore, she had to deal with the fights that seemed to crop up every time he was away.

Tiptoeing around, careful not to wake her up, he checked around the room. Nothing seemed out of place, so they hadn't dragged her into the most recent of their arguments; at least, that was a plus. Gingerly, he removed the laptop from her legs, smiling to himself. Of course she had fallen asleep behind the bright screen, her head lolled back against the grey sofa he had helped her drag up her months prior. She always was a little nerdy, but he just found it all that much more endearing.

Still being gentle, so as not to wake up his lover, he picked her up and maneuvered her into a bridal position. Freezing, he waited until the soft grumble had faded into the night air and she had stopped shifting before he resumed his actions. Pulling the covers of the bed down one-handed was hard, but he managed. Slipping her on to the sheets, he gently undid her button up and tugged it from her shoulders. Next, he undid her jeans, still going slow as he slipped them off of her long legs. When he was done, he tucked her in.

Hurrying from the room, he checked the couch and her mother's room before returning. Both her parents had gone out, so it was just the two of them for the night; even if they just slept, it wouldn't be good for her parents to find out. They never approved of his oddly military-like lifestyle or the defiance he showed when they berated her for things that they themselves had done. So, most nights he snuck in to spend some free time with her.

Kicking off both of his heavy boots with a quiet thump, he began to strip down to only boxers. The loft was always a sticky sort of warm during the summer, and anyway, it was warm enough with two bodies in the bed that he didn't need the t-shirt, flannel, or jeans to stay warm. Once he was comfortable, he slid behind her, his arms snaking around her waist and his lips pressed softly against the smooth expanse of her neck.

Just as his eyes shut and he began to drift off as well, he whispered to her, "I love you. Sleep well, my beloved."

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