likely_evil | I'm a sheep today...

*She doesn't know if that's relief or disappointment she's feeling. She doesn't have any pants on, but she still has her panties. The lack of bra is confusing and she's pretty sure that's a headache setting in.* Ok. Least that's something.

*he's feeling the same way. He was trying hard to keep her at a distance*

*looks up* Huh. how'd it get us there?

All I remember was that thing gettin' a decent swipe at my arm before goin' after you. Rest is there, just not.

*She takes in his lack of shirt and is that a hickey?* Tell me you got pants at least.

*Blinks, then lifts up blanket*

I've got pants on... but I don't think they are mine...

*This is just getting weirder and weirder. Faith looks over to her arm, the arm that she knew had a few nasty gouges in it, only to find nothing.* Not a damn thing.

*She frowns, running her fingers over the unmarked skin.* That would've been a stitch job, easy. And where would you even find pants that fit if they weren't yours?

I dunno... *he gets out of bed and he's wearing very tight black leather pants. He shifts awkwardly in them*

*She can't help the sound she makes when she sees the leather. It's a thing, and damn if Sam Winchester doesn't have the body to pull it off. She's openly staring, and right now, she could give a fuck less.* Damn, Winchester.

*has turned around so he can't see her open staring, though giving her a nice shot of his butt*

I think they are stuck to my skin. I can't even find the zipper.

*Oh, that just prompts a war of responses in her head.

Not a bad thing.
I could help.
If you want them off that bad, I'll rip 'em off for you.

It's a problem, and she's trying to remember the exact reason she's not pulling him back into the bed and riding the hell out of him.*

That's, uh, that's too bad.

*he gives up and just sits on the edge of the bed, the leather making that squeaky noise. He pouted and put his head in his hands.*

You're enjoying this way too much.

*Enjoying was probably the wrong word. She sucked with impulse control. Sucked, and this was practically a buffet in front of a starving man. She ran careful fingers across his shoulders and down the line of his spine.*

You. *She stopped and started again. Jesus, she'd been turned into a goddamn teenager. Get it together, Lehane.* Nail marks. On your back.

*he might have closed his eyes and made a soft happy noise at the feeling of her hands on his back, then they widened and he turned, trying to look at his own back*

What the hell did you do to me?

*The noise wasn't lost on her until she got THAT response.*

Hey, I'm the one not wearing pants. Or a bra. Pretty sure it wasn't anything you didn't want.

*She just wished she could fucking remember it.*

Edited 2009-09-15 16:01 (UTC)

I'm the one with the battle scars!

*at least with him in the painted on pants, they know he wasn't out of them to do anything they might regret...*

You know that's a shitty argument, right? Anything that doesn't require stitches on me heals up faster than it does for you. Besides, the skin isn't even broken.

*Part of her knows where his sudden anger is coming from. He's freaking out. And while she knows that, she can't help or keep her own anger from rising just the slightest bit in response.*

Yeah, say that now but what happens if Dean walked in right now? I'm the one who's going to have his head on the chopping block.

*That caught her by surprise. He was worried about Dean's reaction. Dean.* That's what's bothering you?

*Not the fact that he had done god only knows what with her, it was about his brother freaking out. Even she couldn't explain the relief that washed through her at that, effectively eradicating any anger that started to surface at his outburst.*

*Sam in the last year has done a lot of god knows what... it stopped bothering him. But the idea of Dean seeing him in leather pants is enough to freak him out*

That... and I think these pants are chafing.

*She can't help but smirk at that.* Baby powder. Should help you get 'em off.

*Even if the thought of him getting them off serves as a disappointment. Especially since them coming off won't be for a particularly good reason. And she was really going to need a cold shower after this.*

I'm a sheep today...

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