They call me the Anti-Christ

Yes my life is better left to chance.
I could have missed the pain, but I'd have had to miss the dance
-Garth Brooks "The Dance"

Sam took a deep breath, shifting in his sleep. His mind noticed that something was wrong and his eyes opened a bit to look around.

He was in his bedroom, a white sheet thrown over him to give him a bit of modesty with all the windows open in the summer heat in New Orleans. Next to him, the pillow was still dented from the head that had laid there for half the night. A moment of panic hit him as he started to look around the room.

"Don't you be worrying 'bout me, Sammy boy. I'm just watching da sun rise." Desiree smiled from her spot on the balcony in his bedroom.

He slid out of bed, wrapping the sheet around his waist as he walked into the doorway. She was sitting on the chaise, her knees up against her chest as she stared off at the east. "Tina had good mojo findin' dis place with da baby on da way. Always liked comin' here."

Sam smiled from his spot. "I like having you here."

"Johnny be likin' me here too." Desiree looked up at Sam, matching his smile. "Dat boy turning more and more inta his daddy each day."

"Yeah, I know. Sometimes I look at him and all I see is Dean."

"He'll do his daddy proud. I can see it."

Sam moved closer, moving to sit behind her on the chaise, arms slipping around Desiree's waist as they leaned back together. "You know, he's going to need a mother too at some point," he said into her ear softly.

Desiree was quiet a moment, then turned around in Sam's arms to look up at him. "Sammy boy, what you asking me?"

He bit his lip a moment, then looked down at her as he ran a hand along her cheek. "You pointed out to me a few months ago about how much time we wasted dancing around each other. I don't want to waste any more time."

"Sammy?"

"Desiree... I want you to be a part of my life. Forever."

She smiled and tilted her head up to kiss Sam's lips. "Thought you'd never ask."

Sam smiled, then settled back against the chaise and pulled Desiree down to lay on top of him as they kept kissing in the first rays of the rising sun. He was happier now than he had been in a long time, and knew that it could only get better.

He may still hurt from the pain that he had gone through to get to this point - and while he would love to have his brother back - he wouldn't trade the uncertainty of the hunter's life he had for what he had now. A father, in the arms of the woman he loved... life couldn't get better.

ooc: 3 years after this.

“Men do change, and change comes like a little wind that ruffles the curtains at dawn, and it comes like the stealthy perfume of wildflowers hidden in the grass.”
-John Steinbeck


New Orleans in the summertime was hot and sticky, but at night when Sam opened the windows to his apartment and the breeze from the Gulf swept into their living room, life became easier. Jazz music from the street players and the smells from the restaurants downstairs filtered up. It mixed with the flower smells from the trees and gardens nearby, making the curtains dance with the mixture of life.

Sam sat at his desk, a large book open in front of him, writing in a pad while holding up an old coin. He had left the hunting business after killing Lilith, and - with the help of Johnny's grandmother, Angeline - moved here to start anew.

But while you can take the boy out of the hunt, you can't take the hunter out of the boy. The Winchesters were considered experts in the field, and even if Sam refused to be in the 'game', it didn't stop people from coming to his door asking for help. The word spread, and soon he had not only hunters, but half of New Orleans coming to him for help with their ghosts, potions, and hoodoo questions.

( . . . )