He grumbled a reply before shoving the glove-box closed and shutting off the car. He hoped he didn't get a ticket for abandoning the car there, but they didn't have much choice. He tugged his hood up over his head and wound a scarf around his neck, before reaching to take his bag from her and climbing out of the car, the car keys safely stowed in his jacket.

The cold hit Becky hard the moment she pushed the door open, and even behind her scarf, her shocked gasp was audible above the wind that whipped the snow around them. Shoving the door closed, she checked it was locked and shouldered her bag, crunching around the front of the car to join Sam, squinting through the whirling snow. Her hand groped for his, not wanting to lose him in the storm. "Which way?"

Sam shoved the pack on his back and turned his back so that the wind wasn't whipping snow in his face, straining his ears to hear her over the howl of the wind. "Straight ahead," he replied. "About a half a mile." Which admittedly wasn't very far in fair weather, but might as well be a hundred miles away in a snowstorm. "Stay close and keep your head down," he told her, a gloved hand reached for hers and turned to lead the way down the road to the small town that promised shelter from the storm.

Gripping tight to his hand, Becky did as she was told, burrowing her face up to her nose in her scarf and relying on her hat to keep her forehead protected against the bitter wind. Though the snow was not yet so very deep, promising to drift high against any obstacle in its path, the wind was strong enough to make each step something of a fight, bringing with it icy crystals that clung to eyelashes and burned skin, soaking into her jeans until she was certain that stopping would result in never being able to move her legs again. It was only the pressure of Sam's hand in hers that kept her going, her eyes squinting and fixed on the blurry snow ahead of her feet as they struggled through the storm.

Oddly, the storm only seemed to intensify once they were out of the car and struggling through it. Half a mile was nothing on a good day, but in the middle of a snowstorm, it seemed like every step forward was a struggle. Still, Sam persevered, knowing it wasn't just his life that was at stake, but Becky's, as well. He inwardly admonished himself for bringing her here, secretly wondering if someone was trying to stop them.

Becky had confessed to Sam on their first date that she hated being cold. She was beginning to swallow those words. Cold was fine; cold would have been beautiful compared with this biting, painful rush of icy wind and stinging snow that seemed to be trying to find new and inventive ways to make it difficult to take each step. She was determined, however, not to let Sam down, and struggled on in breathless, pained silence for what felt like an eternity. Just as she thought she was going to have to give up and die, her toe caught the edge of a curb, and she lurched forward, sliding over an icy sidewalk with a loud yelp.

Sam trudged onward, determined to reach civilization. It almost seemed as though they had entered some other wintry world where nothing existed by the snow and ice. There were occasional reminders that they were still in Kansas, though. There was the occasional road sign warning drivers about the speed limit, though whatever was printed there was hidden beneath a covering of white, and if it wasn't for the telephone poles that lined the road, they might have gotten lost. Sam felt Becky's fall more than heard her yelp over the howl of the wind, feeling a tug against his arm as she went down, and then he lost grip of her hand altogether. He turned, squinting in the snow to find her.

Thankfully, his companion was not above swearing enthusiastically to help him pinpoint her location. Aside from bruised knees and a rip in her jeans, she wasn't hurt, but she was stuck sitting on the snow, trying to convince her legs to bend enough to let her stand up. Her hands flailed toward Sam hopefully - or what she hoped was Sam. Even with the shelter of buildings beginning to make itself known, visibility was appalling. "Hey, help me up, would you?"

Thankfully, he found her easily enough and leaned over to help her to her feet. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice muffled behind the scarf that covered his face, concerned eyes peeking out above the scarf and below the hood that covered his head. Thankfully, they'd at least been smart enough to dress for the weather. "I don't think it's much farther!" he called over the wind.

Struggling back onto her feet, she brushed the snow from her backside with another muttered curse, and smiled to reassure him, forgetting that he couldn't see most of her face behind the scarf. "I'm fine," she promised him, raising her voice to be heard above the storm. "Let's keep going!"

He could tell she was freezing and remembered how she'd told him upon their first meeting how much she hated the cold. It was almost as if someone knew that and was using it against them, but who' Or maybe he was just being paranoid, like his father. Whatever the situation, they had no choice but to keep going. There was no question that they'd freeze to death without any heat in the car, and they were close enough now to town that they should be able to find some sort of shelter, even if Sam had to break in. Instead of taking her hand this time, he put his arm around her to huddle close and share each other's warmth. It was slower going this way, but hopefully would keep her from falling or freezing.

Deeply grateful for the arm that wrapped around her, Becky huddled in close, tucking her own arm about his back as they walked along. I am never going to complain about a chilly breeze on a nice day ever again, she told herself firmly, sensing that she was getting to the point where she was going to start promising a God that may or may not exist that she would be a good girl forever if he would just provide somewhere warm to shelter from the storm.

Almost as if in answer to Becky's prayers, a building came into view just ahead of them and Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, whoever owned the place would be willing to shelter them for a little while until the storm passed or until they could manage to get to town without freezing to death. "This way!" he told her, leading her toward the building, which as they got closer appeared to be an old farmhouse that sat on the outskirts of town.

Forcing her eyes up from the snow in front of her feet, Becky narrowed her eyes, picking out the looming darkness that denoted the building in front of them. "There's no lights!" she called to Sam, even as they steered each other in that direction. "No one's home!"

She shook her head, sniffing to calm herself down. "Gotta take the wet stuff off first," she reminded him, dropping her bag down onto the floor. "You, too." And despite being freezing, she set about removing her sodden hat, scarf and gloves, rolling her eyes at herself. "I'm really sorry about being such a baby," she apologized, turning away as she opened her coat up.

"You're not," Sam told her with a one-shoulder shrug as he dropped the afghan back on the couch, along with his pack, and crossed the room to check out the fireplace. He unwound the scarf from around his neck and dropped it on a chair, before picking up a poker to poke at the ash in the fire. From the looks of it, it didn't look like anyone had used the thing in at least a few days, maybe more. "Whoever lives here doesn't make much use of the fireplace," he remarked idly, hoping he didn't find the same signs of neglect in the kitchen. He threw a couple of logs in the hearth and bent down to work at building a small fire. The feeling was starting to come back into his fingers, causing them to burn and ache, but he did his best to ignore it and focus on the task he'd set himself to. "Why are you so afraid of the cold, Becky?" he asked, as he glanced over at her a moment.

She stilled sharply, realizing they'd spent enough time together now that he could read her better than she had hoped. He'd spotted the underlying reason for her hatred of the cold. Taking a deep, if somewhat shaky breath, she pulled her coat off and laid it over another chair to dry, tugging her sweater off over her head. "My mom froze to death when I was four," she said, each word clipped and abrupt, doing a poor job of disguising the pain of that knowledge. "My dad was out of town, and it was a bad storm. Our heating wasn't working, and we'd run out of gas, so she couldn't cook a meal or heat water. She made me and my sister a really thick, warm blanket fort and she made us promise not to come out of it until her or my dad came for us. It was fun, for us. But she was trying to get someone to help us - her car broke down, and no one answered their door, because she was the outsider. Our neighbors must have heard her, but they let her freeze to death rather than do anything to help her."

"Oh," he said, knowing that wasn't much of a reply. He almost wished he hadn't asked, but he'd had a feeling it was more than just an aversion to cold that made it dread it so. "Why didn't you tell me" We didn't have to come here. We could have waited for spring." Or he could have come here alone. Either way, what was done was done, and no matter what happened, he wasn't going to let anything bad happen to her. "I'm sorry about your mom," he said, turning away to tend the fire so that she couldn't see the sad frown on his face. "Sometime I wonder who the real monsters are," he said quietly, knowing people could sometimes be worse than the monsters he and his family fought so hard to protect them against.

Toeing out of her boots and wet socks, Becky stayed silent as she stripped off her sodden jeans, shivering once again. But that was a good thing. Shivering is good, it means I'm not as cold as I thought I was, she assured herself, moving over to where he crouched. Her fingers stroked through his damp hair. "It was a long time ago," she told him quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I never thought we'd get snowed in."

His heart ached for her, but he didn't want to tell her that, feeling a mix of guilt for putting her in harm's way and compassion for her loss. He stopped poking at the fire when he felt her fingers in his hair and turned his head to face her. "I'm sorry, Becky. If I'd known this was going to happen, I'd never have brought you here."

"You can't predict the future," she told him, a gentle smile on her face. "You will get ill if you don't get out of your wet clothes, though, and that's something I'm just not going to stand for. Strip, dude, let's snuggle." She flashed him her confident, slightly cocky grin, storm-grey eyes warm even if her skin wasn't.

He wondered if, being from the future, he should argue that point, but said nothing about it. He was almost painfully aware that she was barely dressed now, and he was trying to keep his eyes from wandering away from her face. It was easier to focus his attention on the fire, but it didn't seem she was going to let him. "I just want to get this fire going. Get under the blanket."

"The fire is going," she pointed out. "I can do the rest from here." She eyed him teasingly, putting the painful past to one side with the ease of practice to focus on the here and now. "Besides, you shouldn't be playing with fire if you can't ignore my lacy undies."

"I can ignore them!" he replied a little indignantly, though in all honesty, he was having trouble ignoring them. It wasn't that he'd never seen a girl in her underwear before, but this wasn't just any girl. It was Becky.

She laughed, leaning in close to brush a very soft kiss to the corner of his indignant mouth. "Strip," she told him, a quiet tone of command in her surprisingly husky voice. "I've got this." One more kiss, just to get him moving, and she slipped away, locating the woodpile and setting about making sure his fire was going to last longer than the twenty minutes it would take to burning through the initial kindling.

He knew better than to argue with her and got to his feet. He wanted her to know how bad he felt about her mom, but didn't want to bring the subject up again, especially now that the grief seemed to have passed. He made no argument when it came to the kiss either, though between the kisses and her scantily-clad body, he was going to have trouble keeping his feelings in check. He found himself shivering beneath the wet clothes and knew she was right. He knew there were worse fates than freezing to death, but he didn't want to point that out right now. "Okay, you win," he admitted, though he was reluctant to move away from the warmth of both the fire and her kisses.

"Goodie." Now they were out of the wind, she was warming up far more quickly than she had expected, but it was still too chilly to linger for too long. Kneeling by the hearth, she navigated a couple of logs onto the flames and watched them fiercely, daring them not to burn in the silence of her mind.

"So, is your worst fear cold?" he asked, as he moved to his feet and pulled his wet coat off, wondering briefly what he should do with his gun. After a moment, he decided he felt better to have it close and set it on a table before laying the coat out to dry on the back of a chair, opposite where Becky had laid hers.

"I'm not complaining about it," she grinned rather playfully, giving his sweater a tug. "This comes off, too. Or I'm going to start exploring and we could end up defiling some poor old dear's favorite rug with an awesome shag-a-thon."

"What do you think is going to happen if you start groping?" he countered with a smirk, pulling away long enough to tug the sweater over his head and toss it onto a chair. Hopefully, they'd be gone before whoever owned this place got home, but that all depended on the storm.

Giggling, she gave him a tug down onto the couch with her, draping the thick afghan over them both as she cuddled into him. "I'm trying not to count my chickens before they hatch," she told him with a laugh, nestling close.

They were both in their underwear now, and though it was because their clothes were soaked and they were trying to keep warm, he knew if anyone walked in the door right about now, they'd probably come to a different conclusion. "Becky..." Sam started, turning serious as they snuggled close, the fire crackling warmly in the hearth while the windows rattled from the storm.

Surely if there was someone in the house, they would have made themselves known by now" Equally, it was unlikely that the owner would even think of coming home until the storm had abated, by which time Sam and Becky would hopefully be away. Wrapped up in his arms beneath the blanket, she felt herself relax, despite their lack of clothing, tilting her head back to look up at him. "Yeah?"

"You know, I..." he started, sounding a little hesitant. "I'd never do anything to put you in danger," he told her, needing her to understand that. It wasn't just about the storm; it was about their future, if they were going to have a future. He was tired of being alone. Everyone around him had someone else. Even Ayden had Ares now. Without Hope, he felt more alone than ever, though he didn't want to admit it, but he'd rather be alone than put Becky's life in danger by being with him.

Becky's expression turned into a warning very quickly. "If this is the I like you a lot but I'm too dangerous for you to be around speech, you can stop right there," she told him firmly. "I can work spells, I can fire a gun - hell, I even know how to use a sword if I have to. Just because I went kinda wimpy in a snowstorm doesn't mean I can't look after myself, Sam."

"It's not that..." he started. Okay, maybe it was. He didn't want to make her angry, and he sure as hell didn't want to lose her either, but he wasn't sure he could live with the guilt and grief if anything happened to her because of him. He sighed, at a loss to put his feelings into words for the moment.

She shifted, crawling fully into his lap to cradle his face between her hands, forcing him to meet her eyes. "I think you need to stop thinking so much," she said, straddling his thighs as she settled close. "Nothing ever comes out well if you let yourself think about it for too long. Let's do something else." Another kiss found its way to his lips. It was just a kiss, and yet there was a sense of purpose behind it that shared more than just the force of her growing affection for him or her desire. Her fingers skimmed down his sides as she plied his lips with kisses. Perhaps it wasn't the wisest way of warming up, but she could be fairly sure that it was going to distract him from trying to talk himself out of something he wanted in his life.

If what she wanted was to drive all thought from his half-frozen brain, she had succeeded. His worries evaporated for now, as did the shivering, the two of them quickly warming beneath the heat that was generated between them. He found himself groaning against her lips, as her kisses sparked a deeper sense of desire that was quickly becoming difficult to hide. "Beck..." he said between kisses, knowing if they kept this up, they were going to christen someone's couch before long. It wasn't that he wasn't enjoying it, only that he didn't want to take advantage.

She smiled against his lips, glad to feel that he was as easy to distract as she was. He wasn't the only one finding it difficult to pull back, either. "Do you ....want me to ....stop?" she asked, her voice barely more than a breath between kisses as she slid even closer, fitting herself to him as snugly as was physically possible. Did he really not know how much she wanted him"

She was so close it was almost like some kind of sweet torment; pain and pleasure so closely linked, it was hard to tell which was which. "Do you want to stop?" he countered, pulling away long enough to answer her question with a question, unsure just how far she was willing to go.

Her grey eyes were stormier than he'd seen them before, lit up with longing that her father was absolutely certain she was never going to feel until she turned thirty at the earliest. "I should," she whispered softly, fingertips tracing Sam's lips as she gazed into his eyes. "But ....no. I don't want to stop. Do you?"

"No," he admitted, face flushed now that they were slowly warming up in more ways than one, his pulse a little faster than normal. "I, uh..." he started, gulping once, wondering just how far she wanted to go. They were still at least partially clothed. Nothing was going to really a happen so long as they kept some clothes on.

"Good." Her smile found his lips once again, a little more confidence this time as she let her hands begin to roam, skating over his warming skin as she dipped her fingers beneath the hem of his shirt. "I've never felt like this with anyone," she confessed softly, breaking the kiss to rest her forehead against his, gazing into his eyes. "You're amazing, you know that?"

Sam hissed a breath when he felt her fingers skimming the hem of his shirt. Her every touch was like fire against his skin, doubling the desire he was having a hard time controlling. "No one's ever called me that before," he told her honestly, more than a little surprised by her words and wondering what it was about him that she found so amazing. In his opinion, she was the amazing one. He was just Sam. He released a slow breath as her forehead came to rest against his, willing his heartbeat to slow. If they kept on the way they were going, he was going to have to go outside to cool off again.

"Then no one's been looking at you properly," she countered, just as honest, just as sincere. Her thumbs smoothed over his sides, feeling the tension rising in him as they lingered together in the warmth they had created. "You're an intelligent, compassionate, handsome guy, Sam. Not to mention sexy, strong, and tasty."

That kiss could have lasted an eternity and still wouldn't have been enough for Becky. Wrapped close in his arms, she curled her hand into his hair as he poured his passion and depth of feeling into her, welcoming it, returning it with as much strength as she had. It was astonishing how much a single kiss could convey, when you recognized the words that hadn't yet been said.

When his lips finally parted from hers, he paused a moment to look deep into the stormy gray depths of her eyes, wondering if she was feeling even half of what he was feeling, but lacking the courage to ask. He wanted to make love to her, to discover her and know her completely, but he didn't want to overwhelm her or push her into anything she wasn't ready for. Instead, he kissed her lips again, more softly this time, but parting to ask in a whisper so soft she might miss it. "What do you want?"

Her answer, when it came, was a single word, spoken so softly he might have missed it if he were not waiting for it. Soft eyes gazed into his, tender with affection and desire, as her fingertips stroked against the line of his jaw. "You," she told him. Such a simple word to encompass so much.

That single word made his heart skip a beat and his pulse leap, knowing that she wanted him just as much as he wanted her, and yet, there was still some uncertainty in him. She was young, and he wasn't sure what exactly she wanted or expected from him. He drew her down onto the couch on top of him, tugging at the hem of her shirt, anxious to discover what secrets lay hidden beneath.

Her arms rose, letting the dark material rise over her head, leaving her in the aforementioned "lacy undies" she'd been teasing him with when they had first entered this house. Storm-grey eyes locked onto his, half-shy, half-hopeful, wondering if he liked what he saw. Her skin was completely unblemished, but for the anti-possession charm tattooed into the groove of her pelvis, pale next to the dark fall of her hair over her shoulders. All right, so they were in a stranger's house, and they'd broken in to get here, but with the storm raging outside, she didn't feel any real need to hold back. She wanted to share herself with Sam, hoping he felt the same way.

They'd already been there long enough to have been discovered had anyone else been in the house, and with the storm raging outside, there was little chance anyone was going to find them until the sky cleared. As far as Sam was concerned, the rest of the world could go hang. All that mattered right now was Becky, and he intended to prove it.

His gaze wandered over her admiringly, desire flaring again at the sight of her while his hands wandered over the curve of her hips and waist, sliding around to her back to unfasten her bra, his eyes taking it all in, admiring the beauty before him.

Leaning over him, she braced herself against the cushions, unable to keep herself from trembling a little as his hands skimmed over her skin. There was even a soft blush as she felt the clasp of her bra come undone in his hands. Though she was no virgin, she'd never been naked with anyone before, wondering if she should have said something before they had reached this point. But it didn't matter. No one else had made her feel this way. If there was anyone she wanted to see her at her most vulnerable, it was Sam.

She wasn't quite naked yet; there was still time to stop him if she wanted to. How far he'd go was still uncertain; he wasn't even sure himself. He'd fantasized about this moment from time to time late at night when he lay alone in bed, never imagining it would take place quite like this. She had to know by now how much he wanted her, how much he ached for her, though he let his actions speak for him. He drew her bra away, letting his eyes savor her beauty before he dared touch her. His touch was surprisingly gentle, if a little bit awkward. He was no more virgin than she was, but neither was he an experienced lover.

Whatever he was doing, it was the right thing. She bit down hard on her lower lip, holding in a very soft moan of pleasure as he touched her, barely noticing any awkwardness as her hands slipped down to draw his t-shirt up and over his head. An eye for an eye ....and she wanted to look and touch, too.

His hands moved over her slowly and gently, exploring and discovering that secrets that were exclusively Becky. If he'd thought she was beautiful before, that was nothing compared to the view before him now. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, almost afraid to speak aloud for fear of breaking the spell cast between them. His hands moved around to her back to draw her closer, so that his lips could explore what his hands already knew. No longer cold, warm lips moved over her skin, kissing her, teasing her, tasting her.

Each pass of his hands over her skin drew a little more of her inexplicable shyness away, until slowly he uncovered the confident girl who had taken charge not so very long ago. A confident girl who still trembled as his lips found those places where a kiss or touch could draw forth a moan or a sigh of quiet delight, unafraid to be so exposed to him and only him. As he touched and teased and caressed, her hair fell in a dark waterfall about them both, her own lips seeking out his temple, his cheek, wanting to share in those touches, to show him how deeply she was coming to care for him as time went on.

At last, he was left with a choice, knowing he couldn't leave her like this, but unsure how to finish. The time for uncertainty had passed, and yet, he wasn't quite sure what to do. He had never felt this kind of uncertainty before. Was it because he cared for her that made him question his own motives and actions" "Becky," he whispered, needing her to help him, to guide him. "Tell me what to do."

His quiet whisper made her hesitate, gently drawing back just a little to look down into his eyes. She could see the longing there, beneath the uncertainty, a longing that echoed her own, and yet she couldn't quite understand why he had become so uncertain when he seemed to have started with such confidence. Her fingers skimmed over his chest as she looked into his eyes, choosing to make the decision for them. "Have you got any condoms?"

From the look on his face, her question seemed to have surprised him, but he nodded his head mutely a moment before finding his voice. "Yeah....Yes. I think so. In my wallet..." he stammered, looking over at where she laid his jeans out to dry.

She smiled faintly, leaning down to kiss him. "Then I want you to make love to me, Sam," she told him softly. "Unless you're not ready. I-I don't want to pressure you into anything." Never mind that every nerve ending was on fire waiting to be touched and loved in that way, Becky was prepared to go without rather than jeopardize any future their relationship might have.

Sam had heard about how two souls, two hearts, two bodies could feel like one, but in all his twenty-one years, he had never experienced it. The closest thing he'd ever had to a soul mate had been his sister, but she was gone and wouldn't be born for a few years. What he was feeling with Becky was unlike anything he'd ever felt before - this oneness, this completeness. It was as if they belonged together, but he wasn't sure if he was alone in his feelings or if she was feeling it, too. He had heard how people claimed the world moved when they joined together as one, but he had never believed it until now. Was this what it felt like to fall in love, or was it just lust he was feeling" All he knew in that moment was that Becky was his whole world, that all he needed was her from that moment on, and he'd never be lonely again. When she kissed him, it was like his heart was on fire, and when they moved together it felt like nothing short of heaven on Earth. Nothing was as special, as wonderful, as beautiful as this in all his life, and it was all because of Becky.

It was over far too soon, and yet she didn't think she could have stood it to last much longer. Becky had never felt so consumed by anything, by anyone, delighted and touched, and deeply moved by what had felt far more than a purely physical sensation. As they lay together, breathless and sated, her fingers stroking up and down his skin, she let her lips nuzzle against his temple tenderly. "Is it too soon to ask you to marry me?" she murmured, teasingly joking and yet, at the same time, deathly serious.

Like a fire that burns hot and fast, it was over quickly, though the heat still smoldered deep inside. It would take very little to fan the flames to life once again, but for now, Sam lay beside Becky, breathless and exhausted and just a little full of wonder at the intensity of feeling that had taken place between them. He kissed her again before she settled herself quietly in his arms, both of them out of breath, hearts pounding together. Despite the circumstances, he felt strangely content, as though he could lay there with her forever and never desire anything else but her. His fingers moved idly over her bare back, stroking her softly and lazily, just as she was doing to him, lulling him into a state of relaxation that unwound all the earlier tension of the day. It was only when she spoke that he stirred, so relaxed that he was close to sleep. "Hmm?" he murmured, taking a moment to fully digest her words. He pried one eye open to gaze at her questioningly, thinking she must be teasing him again. "Marry you?"

She tilted her head back to meet his questioning gaze, a slightly guilty smile on her face. "Too soon?" she asked, not entirely sure if she wanted him to say yes or no. Yes would mean that she might have crossed a line he wasn't prepared to approach ever again; no might mean they were making a lifetime decision based on two weeks and one incredible sex session. Both had their pros and cons.

"It might be a bit soon to be asking me that," he murmured back, a whimsical even amused smile on his face. Had he made that much of an impression on her, or was she just basking in the afterglow" They'd only known each other two weeks. She couldn't be in love with him already, could she" But then, who was he to talk, when he'd been contemplating the same thing" "Besides, shouldn't I be the one asking you?"

"Ah, a traditionalist," she smiled, relief relaxing the fresh tension in her as she cuddled closer. "Gotcha." Her smile became a grin as she realized that he hadn't actually said yes or no; a simple agreement that it was too soon for a question like that was as close to perfect as she could have hoped for. "I really like you, Sam," she said softly. "I mean, really. The kind of really that feels like falling in love."

He had rolled to his side so that he could hold her without crushing her, brows lifting at her statement and wondering if she'd only been teasing him or if she'd been serious. "Really?" he echoed, sounding as surprised as he looked. "I really like you, too, Becky. I-I've never really felt like this about anyone before," he admitted with a thoughtful frown.

"Is it that hard to believe?" she asked, her voice soft in the stillness around them. "You're an incredible guy, Sam. I love spending time with you. You challenge me and you make me feel safe and comfortable. I'm completely myself with you, and that's never happened with anyone before. Not even my own family. So maybe I'm rushing into my feelings a little, but I don't wanna lose this. It means - you mean the world to me."

"Becky, I..." he started, that thoughtful frown on his face again, not because he was shocked or upset or feeling overwhelmed, but because he was deeply touched by her words, realizing that she wasn't just teasing him, that she really meant what she said. For a moment, he was speechless, unsure how to reply. "I don't know what to say. No one's ever told me that before." But that wasn't quite true. If he only let his heart speak for him, he might know just what to say.

Her smile softened, knowing she'd just thrown him something of a curveball. Perhaps other people didn't offer a blow by blow account of their feelings as they happened; Becky didn't know any other way. She didn't hide anything if she could possibly help it. "It's okay," she told him gently. "You don't have to say anything."

"It's just been me and Hope for so long..." he said, trailing off, knowing that wasn't quite true either, though it had often felt that way. Ayden had Ares, and Johnny was just a kid. For a long time, it had felt like him and Hope against the world, but Hope was gone now, and though he had his family, he often felt like the odd man out. Not so, when he was with Becky. When he was with Becky, he felt like he belonged again, like he was needed and wanted and understood.

"I don't want to intrude on that relationship, Sam," Becky told him, worried that she might, somehow, be doing damage just by wanting to be with him. "Even though she's not here right now, she's very present in you, and I would hate myself if I did anything to negate that."

"That's not what I mean," he interjected, not wanting her to get the wrong idea. "I mean, I like you, too, Becky. You're the first girl - the first woman - I've ever really cared about, besides my sister. You're smart and beautiful and....You're amazing, Becky. I just....I don't think I've ever let myself get comfortable with anyone before, you know" And now that Hope's gone..." He trailed off again with a small frown. He didn't want her to think he was trying to use her to replace Hope, but she was the only person he'd ever let get that close.

Her expression gentled, reassured by the way he spoke. "I'd like to be someone you could feel as close to as you do with your sister," she said quietly. "I know I tease a lot, and I get passionate about stupid things, and when I get started on Atlantis or ancient myths, it's hard to make me stop, but I've never really had a close relationship with anyone. I love my dad, my grampa, my sister, but I can't talk to them. But right from the start, I've been able to talk to you. I'd like it so much if I could somehow be the person you can talk to."

He felt those sparks, too. He couldn't deny the heat that was generated between them, knowing it wasn't just a physical sensation, but something he felt deep in his heart. "Live together?" he asked as she broke the kiss. For the time being, he was living with his family at Bobby and Ellen's place, but he knew his parents would be moving out soon to start raising a family, and he was already feeling a little too confined behind those protective walls. "You mean get a place of our own?" he asked.

She shrugged, one shoulder rising and falling as she nodded. "I don't mean right away, obviously," she assured him. "I still gotta pretend to be paying attention to college for a few months, and you're still adjusting to everything, job included. But maybe we could find somewhere during spring break. I know, I'm getting ahead of myself."

It was only December; spring break seemed so far away. Anything could happen between now and then, but for the first time in a long time, he felt hopeful. "No, I like the idea," he admitted quickly before she dashed his hopes and made the decision for them. He wasn't sure what his parents would think of him living with a woman, but he doubted they'd have much to say about it. Her family, on the other hand, was another matter. "What about your dad?"

"He'll freak," she shrugged, smiling faintly. "I can guide him to it, though. The worst he can do is not give his permission, and since he already signed the legal emancipation documents when I first started at Stanford, he can't force me to do anything. It's not like we'd be moving across the country, or anything. Just, you know, enough outside of Sioux Falls that people can't just drop in on us uninvited."

"You don't know my dad," Sam muttered, but his father making impromptu visits on him and his roommate - girlfriend - lover - at some unknown time in the future was the least of his worries. "We should get dressed," he reminded her, leaning in to touch his lips to her forehead. "And maybe find something to eat."

"That's what I said," she laughed, not minding the change in topic as his lips touched her skin once again. "Okay, but no more kissing until we're dressed, or I'm going to end up playing Russian roulette with my womb." She winked at him, swatting his rear end playfully, and turned to slip back out of the bathroom, wending her way to the main room and the backpacks they'd put down what seemed a lifetime ago.

"I have plenty of condoms," he teased back, with a playful smirk, chuckling as she swatted him. He would have returned the favor, but she was already on her way back to the living room. "Do you think they'll mind if we make ourselves something to eat?" he asked, as if he really was concerned how their stay here might affect the people's lives who lived here. "We should leave a note," he said, as he followed her out of the bathroom. "Explain what happened and thank them for the use of their home."

"That's what I was thinking," she agreed. "Leave a note, and some money to cover what we use. Because, personally' I'm really hoping they don't come back before we leave." She twisted to grin up at him, pulling various dry pieces of clothing out of her bag, glad she'd packed for a few days of the cold.

"We can go as soon as the storm clears. I don't think Lebanon is much farther. We should be able to make it in a few hours, so long as the weather holds." He moved over to where he'd left his own pack and unzipped it to rummage around for some spare clothes of his own.

"Sounds like a good idea," she nodded, wrestling herself into fresh underwear. "The car should be okay, shouldn't it' Maybe the wipers just froze up." She glanced at him curiously, wondering if she was right about that at all - she knew her own car, but the workings of every other car under the sun were a complete mystery to her.

"We should be okay. We can always pick up some new wipers in town before we leave." And possibly some blankets, he thought to himself as he pulled a fresh pair of boxers on.

"At least it should only be this one storm before Christmas," Becky mused thoughtfully, pulling a shirt on. Her fingers fumbled with the buttons as she found herself staring at Sam's rear end appreciatively. "It's not like we're gonna be in Kansas until New Year or anything."

They could hope, anyway. "If your theory is right and Demeter's grief is affecting the weather, we could be in for a rough winter." If he remembered his mythology right, the seasons were supposedly affected by the times when Persephone was in Hades and when she was with her mother, though it was only a myth, or so he thought. He pulled a pair of clean, dry jeans on over his hips, unaware Becky was ogling his rear.

"For once, I'm hoping my theory isn't absolutely right," she murmured, still captivated by his rear end. "I think it's ..." She trailed off, giggling. "I can't think with you wiggling your butt at me! One more wiggle, and I'm gonna start groping again."

"What?" he exclaimed, glancing over his shoulder at her with furrowed brows. "I am not! I'm trying to get dressed!" he said as he wiggled into his jeans and zipped them up.

"Yeah, you are!" she laughed, abandoning her own lower half to move over and proceed to follow through with her threat. Her hands cupped his rear and fondled affectionately as her grinning lips brushed his shoulder with playful intent. "Tease."

"You're the one that's teasing," Sam countered, turning to face her now that his jeans were safely zipped and covering his rear, as well as other assets. His slid his arms around her waist to pull her close, though he wasn't sure he wanted to start anything now that they were mostly dressed again.

She giggled, leaning into his arms as her hands smoothed up over his chest. "You wouldn't want me any other way," she challenged him with a fond grin, the tip of her nose brushing his.

"And here I thought you were a nice girl," he teased with a smirk as they brushed noses. His hands drifted lower to catch hold of her rear and give it a squeeze. "We're not going to get anything to eat this way though," he warned, his lips moving against hers.

"Speak for yourself," she murmured, teasing his lips with a soft kiss, rising onto her toes as he squeezed her rear. "I had sausage not so long ago." Giggling in a decidedly wicked manner, she winked at him, pressing a real kiss to his lips. "But I can't have you wasting away, can I?"

Becky laughed, shaking her head. "I'm not proposing to dip it in a tub of ice cream," she snickered back at him. "I'm thinking more about dribbling and licking elsewhere, actually. Just to get you in the mood. Possibly with you tied down as revenge for waving that gorgeous butt at me."

Sam paused a moment to arch a brow at her, a little surprised at her suggestion. "Sounds kinky. I didn't know you were into that sort of thing." He turned away to return the milk to the fridge before taking a seat at the table.

"What, I'm not allowed to take off my glasses, shake out my hair, and go naughty librarian on you?" she teased laughingly, following him to the fridge to put the various packets and jars away before returning the rest of the bread to the breadbin.

"Oh, I'm not complaining. As far as I'm concerned, you can go naughty anything you want anytime you want," he said with a smile as he waited for her to join him. It felt strangely peaceful to be here with her all alone doing something as ordinary as sharing a meal. Was this what life would be like if they moved in together" It was a tempting thought.

"Well, maybe not anytime," she conceded, finally moving to sit with him, plates set down on the table as she slid into a seat. "If you give me something as all encompassing as anytime, you could end up being more of an exhibitionist than you're entirely comfortable with."

If only he was more like his father, but it when it came to things like that, he was more like his mother. Or perhaps he was more like Ayden, who'd had a hand in raising him back home, but here she was more like a sister than an aunt. He lifted a shoulder in reply. "You might be surprised." Though he really doubted she would. Of the two of them, he seemed to be the more reserved one, which surprised him a little.

"Is that a challenge, Mr. Winchester?" she asked, still teasing him even as she picked up half her sandwich and took a bite that seemed impossibly big given the size of her mouth.

"I don't know," he replied, honestly enough. "Think you're up to it, Miss Hoffman?" he countered, picking up his own sandwich and having no problem with taking a bite.

It took her a moment to be able to form a coherent reply; she hadn't realized how hungry she was until she'd bitten into the sandwich. "I think I'm up for anything where you're concerned," she told him, the look in her eyes sweetly intimate. This felt rather wonderfully normal, just another reason for her to be dreading the start of the semester at Stanford after the holiday.

"Anything isn't very specific," he said curiously before taking another bite of his sandwich. He didn't want to think about her going back to school a couple of states away, but maybe it was better that way. The more distance between them, the less likely she was to get hurt by anything he was involved in, at least, for now.

"And all-encompassing," she smiled back at him fondly. A thought flitted across her mind that perhaps she should check her phone for any panicked messages from her father, but right now, that was at the back of her mind. She was just enjoying being with Sam, as she did whenever she was with him. No wonder her family thought she was turning into a love-struck teen - that's what she was, and she honestly didn't care.

He'd had that same thought, but doubted anyone would think to check up on him, unless, that is, they were paying attention to the weather report. "I'm not sure I should ask," he said, wondering what exactly she had in mind besides bondage and food sex. His experiences with women weren't very varied or exciting, but he was a man and he still had his fantasies.

As usual, Becky's internal censor failed to catch what she was about to say. "You know, I have a recurring daydream about us," she admitted conversationally, wiping mayonnaise off her lip with her thumb. "It's probably really silly, but every now and then I drift off, and I imagine waking up next to you and watching you sleep. And when you wake up, you smile at me, and it's the best feeling in the world."

He reached over to dab at a trace of mayonnaise that she'd missed with his thumb. "Why is that silly?" he asked, licking that dab of mayonnaise from his thumb. He thought if they kept going the way they were going, it was pretty likely her daydream could become reality.

"Well ..." For a girl who had just seduced him on the couch and gone all the way on the floor, she was certainly blushing quite red while recounting a reasonably innocent daydream, proving that for all her bravado, Becky really was quite shy at times. "I guess some people would call it clingy, or corny," she shrugged, glancing down at her plate as she spoke. "I just ....I like you. And not just the attraction between us, which is pretty powerful. I like the way we can be quiet together, and the fact that we can talk about anything. I like being with you, Sam. And it's all kinda new and a bit scary, and a lot wonderful, and ....well, I guess I'm just scared I'm gonna screw it up."

Sam set the sandwich down so that he could focus his attention on Becky, turning toward her with a serious look on his face as he reached for her hand. "I don't think you're being clingy. I actually think it's kind of sweet. And if anyone's gonna screw things up, it would probably be me," he added with a bit of a frown.

Her fingers wound between his as she met his gaze, curious and a little bemused. "Why would you think that?" she asked with a small frown of her own. "This is a relationship, isn't it' We're both in this, and if something goes wrong, we're both responsible for it. So how about we agree not to screw up and stop worrying about it?"

He was still frowning, unsure how exactly he'd screw things up, except if he decided she was better off - safer - without him. She'd already argued with him on that point once already. "Sounds like a plan," he replied, trying to sound reassuring.

"Good." Becky smiled, squeezing his hand gently. "Eat your sandwich. We should try and get a coupla hours of sleep - I don't think this storm is going to blow itself out very soon."

"Becky, about what you said before....about living together..." he started, leaving his sandwich untouched for now. "I think I'd really like that. I just....I've never been with anyone before, and I don't want to mess it up." He practically echoed her fears, despite their agreement not to screw it up.

"No, I don't," she promised him. "I'm going to miss you like crazy, and I won't have anything to distract me. I really am just marking time at college until I can hand in my dissertation. They refused to take it early - apparently I've already fast-tracked enough."

"But if you've already paid your tuition and your dissertation is done, what difference does it make" Why do you even have to be there" You could email them your dissertation and be done with it," he reasoned, unable to see why it was important that she go back to Stanford if she was, in all reality, finished.

She bit her lip, flushing a little bit. "To get away from my family," she said softly. "If I don't go back, I have to stay at home, with my dad, and my sister. Leah's okay, but she makes me feel frumpy and not much like a girl. And I love my dad, but he's got such high expectations of me, it's like living in a pressure cooker. If I don't go back to Stanford, he'll either keep me in the house doing research with him, or he'll send me off to be fully initiated, and I'll never get to do anything but read other people's work."

"But you're going to be done soon. What happens then" I thought you wanted us to get our own place. What difference does it make if we do that now or a few months from now?" Okay, maybe they'd know each other better if they waited, but then again, what better way to get to know each other"

"Well ....it makes no difference really, but ..." Becky frowned thoughtfully. "It's your first Christmas with all your family, and Ayden's weird wedding, whenever that'll happen. And, you know, even between us, we don't have enough money to put down a deposit on a place. I'm not making excuses," she said hurriedly, heading that off as quickly as she could. "I'd love to move in with you. I just don't wanna get in the way of you getting to know your family."

He wasn't entirely sure if she was making excuses or not, but he couldn't really argue the point, especially the part about money. "Okay, so....we shoot for spring then" I should be able to save enough money for a couple of months rent by then." And there was the matter of a car, but he figured his father and Bobby could help him with that. He sure as hell wasn't keeping the truck.

She nodded, smiling in delight. This way meant that he had the winter to get used to his family as they were now, to find some equilibrium in himself and where he fitted into the new dynamic with people he loved but didn't know as well as he would like. "We shoot for spring," she agreed. "And that gives me time to take on a few extra shifts at work, and up my price for doing other people's homework, too." Her eyes sparkled, leaving a wonder in their wake - how many of Stanford's graduates this year were getting a helping hand from a resident genius"

He nodded, unsure what he'd be doing while she was away at Stanford, besides working a day job to earn money and helping his family work on taking out Hades and company. Research, most likely. He was going to have to keep himself busy somehow. Without either Hope or Becky to confide in, it was going to be a long time until spring. Of course, he had no idea what was going to happen once he made himself know to the Men of Letters, who didn't yet know of him in this time period.

She eyed him thoughtfully, wondering what was bothering him now. "You know you can call me anytime, right?" she asked him softly. "We could talk every day, even if it's just for a few minutes. I'd like that."

"Yeah, I'd like that, too," he admitted, though he didn't want to be a burden to her or intrude on her activities at school. Down deep he knew what was bothering him, but he wasn't sure he was ready to put it into words just yet, if he ever was ready.

She raised a brow as she watched him, a small smirk curving her lips. "Or we could stop off at the nearest courthouse and get married," she suggested mischievously. "Would that help?"

"And move into your dorm back at school?" he asked doubtfully, arching a brow at her suggestion, knowing she was more than likely just teasing him. "Besides our families would kill us if we robbed them of a wedding." Or at least, his mother and Ellen would.

"How about a promise, then?" Becky suggested softly, pushing aside her empty plate as she leaned forward onto the table. "You seem so worried about me going back to school, and I can't help thinking it's because you think I'm gonna forget you, or cheat on you with some no-brain dunce who can't even remember my name. And that isn't gonna happen, Sam."

He knew for his own part that he wasn't likely to meet anyone else, and even if he did, he'd never meet anyone like Becky. They seemed perfectly made for each other, but he kept wondering why he'd never heard of her before. It figured that if she'd died at some point in the future, he might never have heard of her. "What kind of promise?" he asked curiously.

She held his gaze steadily, needing him to actually pay attention and absorb what she was saying. "That I'm yours," she said simply. "That no one has ever, or will ever, touch me the way you do. That I'm gonna miss you like crazy. I'm falling in love with you, Sam. Feelings like that don't just disappear because I'm a couple of states away."

There it was again. It was the third time in one day she'd told him she was falling in love with him, and every time she said it, it seemed to do strange things to his heart, not to mention his stomach. Maybe it took three times of her saying it for it to finally sink. This wasn't some adolescent crush. They were full-grown adults who had just shared the most intimate act two people could possibly share. The truth was he was feeling the same, but was afraid to admit it. "You don't think it's too soon to feel that way then?" he asked. He'd never been in love before, as far as he knew. He'd never had time for it before, and he was unsure if that was what he was feeling.

"Uh ....well, no, I don't," she admitted with a shy cast to her smile. "And it's not like you don't have an example right in front of you. Until a month ago, Ayden hadn't even met Ares, and now they're promised to each other and she's dropping out of school. How is it so easy to believe that they're in love, but so hard to accept that we're walking the same path together?"

"I don't know. I've never felt this way before," he admitted at last. "I'm not sure what it's supposed to feel like." He was frowning again and looking a little confused, but it wasn't a bad kind of confusion. He was just trying to figure it all out. "Maybe I'm just thinking too much," he suggested.

"Dude, my family consists of your boss, who thinks the sun shines out of your butt; my sister, who is predisposed to like you because whenever we go out she gets to play with my hair and make-up; and my dad and grampa, who are great with the book smarts but not exactly the lightest on their feet," she pointed out with a faint grin. "Seriously, you have nothing to worry about. You're not going to be walking into a house filled with hunters and Olympians who've never met you before."

He was pretty doubtful about the sunshine thing, but the comparison wasn't lost on him, realizing maybe she was just as nervous about meeting his family as he was about meeting hers. "Trust me, Becky. They're gonna love you. They'll probably be relieved I'm getting on with my life now that-now that Hope's gone." Gone, but never forgotten. He'd have her back someday, but it would never be the same.

Setting the cloth aside now her hands were dry, Becky stepped close to him, laying her palms against his chest. "Maybe they'll be relieved, but I think they're more likely to be pleased for you," she told him softly. "You're very easy to love, Sam, and I have absolutely no doubt that your family loves you, whether it looks like it or not. And yes, I'm nervous about meeting them. Everyone in that room will be able to kill me with their little finger if I put a toe out of line."

He wasn't sure what to say or even think about what she was telling him. He'd never heard anything like that from anyone, except maybe his family. He knew his mother, at least, shared the sentiment, but she was his mother, so she didn't really count. He smiled, though, as she admitted her own fears about meeting his family, and realized they were in the same boat. He wrapped his arms around her waist, happy to have her close again, chuckling a little at the mental image her statement produced in his mind. "Not with their little finger, and I doubt you have much to worry about." Chances were Ayden was already filling them in, so it was unlikely to come as too great a shock to them that he was actually seeing someone.

"You're kidding, right?" Becky laughed, happily nuzzling into his arms as she looped her own about him. "Scary Bobby Singer and his wife, your mom and dad who just killed an Olympian, and Ares, the God of War" I don't have to worry, huh?" She giggled, hugging close. "I'll just hide behind you or Ayden the whole time."

"So long as you're not a demon, vampire, a ghoul, or one of Hades' hybrids, you have nothing to worry about. Besides," he added with a soft smile, "the only ones you really have to worry about are Bobby and my Dad, and their bark is worse than their bite. Anyway, I'm a grown adult. I'm entitled to live my own life and make my own decisions." At least, so far as it didn't put the rest of them or himself in any danger. He wondered what his father would think if he knew what they were really doing in Kansas.

She smiled faintly, nose to nose with him. "I don't have anything to be scared of, right?" she murmured teasingly. "Just like you don't have anything to be scared of." She kissed him softly. "I'm kinda tired," she admitted in a quiet tone. "Do you think we're okay to sleep a little bit?"

What his father might have to say about the Men of Letters was another matter entirely, but for now, he didn't mention that. "Not a thing," he assured her with a smile as he brushed a soft kiss against her lips. "Yeah, we should probably get some sleep. I wanna get out of here as soon as the storm breaks. We should really check the weather report."

"C'mon, then," she smiled, giving him a gentle tug toward the living room, one hand reaching out to turn off the kitchen light as they passed. They were warm, they'd eaten, and with any luck, the storm would keep blowing until they'd had a couple of hours sleep, at least.

He followed along to the living room, letting her take the lead, feeling more tired than he was willing to let on. Though he liked driving, it was tiring both mentally and physically even in the best of weather, and he wouldn't mind a few hours sleep before they took to the road again.

She paused, pulling her phone out of her bag. "Lets check the weather before we settle down," she suggested. "We can set an alarm, then."

She seemed content to sleep on the couch or the floor near the fire, which was fine with him. It felt weird enough taking shelter in someone else's house; he didn't really want to use their bed, too. "Okay," he agreed, letting go of her hand, so he could toss a few more logs on the fire.

To be honest, Becky wasn't entirely comfortable being in someone else's house. The thought of venturing upstairs and sleeping in someone else's bed was just a step too far. The rug in front of the fire was thick enough, and they had the afghan to keep them warm, as well as the fire. It would do. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, she flicked through the various pages on her phone, seeking out the weather report. "Hmm ....looks like they think this is gonna pass in about four hours," she said thoughtfully. "So when should I set the alarm for" It'll probably ease off enough for travel before then."

"You know," he started with a small smirk as she flipped through her phone. "We could just watch the news cast on TV," he teased, though it seemed she'd already located the weather report on her phone. It didn't take long before the fire was roaring in the fireplace again, which felt sort of homey, even it if wasn't their home.

She glanced up, and giggled. "Well, yeah, that would be the sensible thing to do," she agreed, blushing because she hadn't thought of that. "Three hours, how's that sound? Should give us a chance to sleep off the tired, and get out before the owners come back."

"Sounds like a plan," he agreed, setting the poker down near the fire and wiping his hands on his jeans. He really wanted to be out of here by morning, before whoever lived here returned home.

"Okay, then." With a quick swipe of her fingers over the touch screen, she set the alarm to wake them in just under three hours' time, putting the phone down within arm's reach. "We're snuggling, right' None of this gentlemanly "you take the couch" nonsense."

"I was going to suggest it," he admitted with a slightly sheepish smile. "But I figured you'd say that." He sat down on the floor beside her and grabbed hold of the afghan, though right now, with the fire blazing in the fireplace, they hardly needed it.

She giggled, inching in close beside him. Her fingers gently touched his cheek, drawing him into a soft kiss, her skin flushing at the very recent memory of what had happened the last time they'd been in this position in front of this fire.

And though it was tempting to repeat that incident, if they did, it would mean less sleep, and he still had a few hours to drive, not to mention dig them out of the snow before they could even go anywhere, but he didn't want to think about that right now. He kissed her gently before settling in for sleep. "Go to sleep, Becky. Three hours isn't much sleep."

"You're the one doing the driving, you get to sleep," she murmured, but she was already settling comfortably against him, tucked close with the afghan spread over their legs. She sighed softly, content and comfortable, closing her eyes with a small smile playing at her lips.

"Yes, dear," he admitted with a small smile of his own as he let his eyelids drift closed and surrendered to sleep. It wasn't long before he was asleep, as was evidenced from the relaxed expression on his face and his regular breathing.

In a stranger's house, in a town they hadn't managed to identify, with a snow storm raging outside, they fell asleep together, wrapped close in the warmth of the fire. It might not have been the planned stop on this little road-trip of theirs, but on the whole ....it was almost perfect.

((The men in this family attract women who move fast, don't they' :lol: Many thanks to Sam's player!))