Dean felt the edge of the bed dip seconds before she spoke.
"Well, this is a lovely way to wake-up in the morning, I must say."
With a start, he sat up, reaching under the pillow, aware of Clint reacting beside him. In a split second, two guns trained on the woman who sat smiling at them.
"Men with guns," Hera said, tugging the sheet down. "Naked men with guns. Oh, my. This is a party just waiting to happen." The silky blue dress she wore draped across her breasts, slipping as she leaned forward to get a good look, falling far short of her crossed knees.
"You ever hear of knocking?" Dean grumpily demanded.
"Where's the fun in that? Then I couldn't catch you like this." She slid her hand up Dean's leg, scraping her manicured nails up Dean's chest. "Just say the word and we can be on the beach, with a cold bottle of cerveza, naked on the sand." She bent and brought her red lips to Dean's, tilting her head, licking along his lower lip with her tongue. Dean sat, unmoving as the feel of Clint's gun barrel on her temple made her stop; he pulled away as she sat back.
"Lady, you're not my type," Dean growled, putting the gun between them again. Hera's eyes flashed red for a moment then she smiled again.
"Or maybe I just don't the right equipment?" She boldly eyed both men's crotches, licking her lips. "No? Hmmmmm, maybe it would help if I looked like this." With a fluid movement, she changed. Her red hair fell in waves to her shoulders, body clad in tight black leather, zipper opened low to show the swells of her perfect breasts. Blue eyes regarded them both, hot and smoldering. "Is this better?" She asked with a purr. She ran her hand up Clint's leg, leaning across Dean, giving him an unobstructed view of cleavage as her fingers came to rest on Clint's inner thigh. Dean couldn't help but stare and even stir at the very hot body brushing against him.
"You had better hope she never finds out you did this. Goddess or not, she will kill you. Slowly. Painfully." Clint's voice was icy cold. Hera seemed taken aback by the response. Shifting onto her knees, she sat up and looked at them both.
"Come now, she's lovely. Dean certainly finds her attractive." With knees spread slightly apart, she ran her hands up her waist, cupping her breasts, teasing her own nipples through the leather, giving a little moan. "A threesome would be just the thing to wake you up, don't you think?"
"You are not her. Trust me on this one." Clint cocked his weapon and held it steady. "Now change back before I shoot you just for spite." With a huff, she shifted back to her original appearance, except for the fiery red color of her hair, now pulled up at the nape of her neck with a jeweled clip.
"You can't blame a girl for trying. If I'm going to be out of a job, I can at least get something out of the deal. Everyone else is having sex." She pouted, pursing her lips.
"Sorry, but you'll have to look elsewhere for your fix," Dean said. "And if you know something, you could just tell us rather than do the whole dog and pony show."
"You have very nice lips, dear. And a smart mouth. I like your mouth. I bet it looks lovely around your friend here," she said then sighed. "Oh, alright. Humans, no matter how noble their calling, make deals when push comes to shove. We're all pretty much in sales, after all. Some just want to be the king of everything while some of us are content with our own little share. It's all about power, pretty boy. Now are you sure you won't let me at least watch? I'm perfectly willing to take care of myself."
"No." They both spoke at exactly the same time.
'Your loss, boys." With a wave of dismissal, she was gone as silently as had appeared.
"Goddamn it," Dean grabbed his phone, dialing Sam's number. "I am an idiot." Clint rolled out of bed, dressing quickly and efficiently. He tossed Dean's clothes to him from where they'd landed around the room.
His brother's sleepy voice answered. "Dean? What's up?"
"We've got some new intel. How fast can you meet us?" Dean heard a muffled voice in the background.
"Tell us where and we can leave here in a few minutes." Sam answered.
"So, sexy leather lady?" Cutting the connection, Dean turned to Clint who was clearly uncomfortable with the question. Dean grinned and wiggled his eyebrows at the agent.
"I'd love to see what happened if you called her that to her face." Clint shook his head. "In the first place, she's seeing someone and secondly, I don't have a death wish."
"Dude, she's seriously hot!" Dean protested. Clint crossed the space between them, pushing Dean up against the wall, and kissed him soundly, tongues totally involved, lust slamming through both of their bodies. Dean's brain shut down at the erotic sensation, his body instantly responding again. Hands grabbed at Clint's shoulders, the kiss deepened and threatened to swamp both of them before Clint pulled back.
"You're hotter," Clint said with a smile as he walked away, leaving Dean both half-aroused and a little unsteady.
The steady beep of monitors was the only sound in the room as the four of them stood in the doorway, watching the father, head bent down in prayer, big hand holding the smaller one. The boy in the bed looked serene, still and unmoving, but any spark of life had fled, leaving only an empty shell.
"Deputy Cosgrow? Martin?" Sam asked quietly. The man's pain was evident as he turned towards them, eyes red, face streaked from tears. It had taken only a short amount of time to find out about the officer's son: the tackle that brought the boy down, the ensuing coma, the diagnosis that he was brain dead. The pain was enough to make even the most noble of men enter into a deal with the devil.
"I wondered when you'd show up," he said, not surprised at all. "You have to understand. It was just a damn pin. Make sure I found it first and then he'd bring Tony back to me. Sounded so easy. I even called you two in to help." He rubbed his sleep-deprived face. "Now people are dead. There's no pin. And my wife wants to turn off the machines. Says it's time to accept that he's gone." Head shaking, he covered his eyes with the palms of his hand.
"What was the deal?" Dean asked. Cosgrow sagged back down into the chair by the bed.
"I went to the crossroads, just like the story my grandmother told me about that blues man. I made a deal with a woman; my son and she'd come for me in 10 years. But then he showed up and made a better offer, said my case had been 'upgraded,' said I didn't have to go until it was my natural time. I should have known it was too good to be true. One stupid piece of jewelry."
"Let me guess. Dark hair, expensive suit, smart mouth, pain-in-the-ass? Called himself King of Hell?" Sam asked. Cosgrow nodded.
"Crowley," Dean said under his breath. "Son of a bitch. Consolidation my ass. He's still looking for more juice."
"And the bomb in the building?" Clint asked.
"The demon's order. You were getting too close. Ben was my friend; he tried to talk me out of the whole deal. He was supposed to get out before he set it off." He kept his eyes averted. "After …. after … we stop the machines, I'm going to turn myself in."
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the male model and his moose. And a new friend. You starting a boy band and didn't cut me in for a percentage? I'm hurt." Appearing suddenly in the room, Crowley tugged his suit jacket into place, smoothing out the cut of the expensive material. Cosgrow jumped up from his chair, knocking it over.
"Looking for goddesses, Crowley? I hear Victoria Secret's having a big sale." Dean aimed his comment at the King of Hell. "Thinking of expanding again?"
"Ah, Dean, what lovely witty repartee as usual," Crowley flicked dust off his sleeve. "The Deputy and I had a deal. This has nothing to do with you."
"And what do you want with Hecate's pin?" Sam asked. "Going to corner the market on deal making?"
"Sammy boy, I'm a business man, that's all there is to it."
"So Cosgrow made a deal with you: the pin for his son's life, right?" For the first time, Clint spoke, turning Crowley's attention to him.
"So the boy toy can speak," Crowley stopped in front of the agent, surveying him, understanding dawning on his face. "Well, what have we here? Oh, the deals I could make with you, Hawkeye. What would you want, I wonder? Your brother back? Maybe a certain god's head on a platter?" Dean cut a look at Clint, but the agent never flinched. Surprised, Sam's head swiveled towards them. "You'd be a real feather in my cap. I could be persuaded to offer you a special price."
Taking the pin from his pocket, Clint held it out to the demon. "Deal's a deal. Here's Hecate's pin. Now bring the man's son back."
Crowley eyed the pin suspiciously. "Sorry, mate. That's not it. Looks like you've been had. That's just a bit of metal." He looked at the deputy, then back to Clint. "If you find the real pin, call me. And if you want to make a deal, just ask your boyfriend. He knows my number." With that parting shot, he was gone.
Kate broke the silence in the room as she turned to Sam. "I want you to remember that you said you were an FBI agent. And technically, you never told me any differently. I handled it all pretty well, don't you think? Didn't get upset about being lied to." She walked over to the boy in the bed. "I'm so sorry, Martin. From what I've seen, you're a good man. If I knew, I never would have let it get this far." Taking the boy's hand, she bent down, breathing lightly on his eyes. "Tony? Time to wake up. Your dad's here now." The power was gentle, nothing like the whirlwind of the loa's ceremony, just a feeling of a cold breeze crossing the room. The monitors jumped, a change registered in the bips, and Tony's eyes fluttered, his chest rising.
Cosgrow reached for his son just as buzzers sounded, calling nurses and doctors. Kate stepped back. "Time to go." With a wave of her fingers, they were outside, standing in an open area of the hospital parking lot, the Impala within sight.
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx xx
Clint's phone buzzed and he stepped away to answer it. Dean felt poleaxed that he hadn't figured it out. Kate … Hecate. How stupid could he be? And Sam had been having sex with her. Okay, that was strange. And maybe a little kinky. It did explain why Sam was so fascinated, maybe. Goddess sex … Dean might have been jealous of his brother if he hadn't been getting some damn fine sex of his own. And Sam seemed okay with it all because he was kissing Kate now, practically lifting her feet of the ground, or maybe she wasn't standing on the ground at all.
"So Sam's got a pretty powerful girlfriend, eh?" Clint asked as he put away his phone. He leaned against the Impala. "Could be handy, I guess."
"Fucking witches. And gods. And demons." Dean muttered. "I hate them. And we still don't have all the answers. I feel like we've been screwed with this entire time." Clint's mouth twitched up in a lopsided smile at Dean's choice of words, so Dean rolled his eyes at him.
"Look, Crowley's a dick, but he'd use demons to do his dirty work, not hired muscle." Dean felt like he should probably stop watching Sam and Kate, but they were too involved with each other to notice, so Dean figured, what the hell. "There's still an unknown player in this game."
"Well, Kate's pin is useless now that she let Bridgette drain it, but the other two are still out there. Whoever else is interested will have to show their hand soon." Clint shifted to face Dean at the sound of an approaching aircraft. "Look, I put my number in your phone last night. If you head to Washington, I'll get you connected with our people there. Werewolves are a little outside of their area of expertise. I'll be there as soon as I've taken care of this other little problem."
A heliocopter came into view over the trees, heading for the empty field; Sam and Kate stepped back as it came in for a landing.
"If I find out anything else, I'll let you know," Kate offered, unfazed by Dean's glower her direction. She stood on her tiptoes and whispered into Sam's ear before she disappeared. Sam gave Dean an unfazed shrug; Dean crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the car.
The landing ramp extended and a man walked down wearing a dark suit, white shirt, and tie. Dean pegged him for a fed or one of the Men in Black with his slim build, dark sunglasses and close shaven head. He exuded strength and calm. Grinning, Clint waved him over to where the Impala sat on the side of the road.
"Coulson," Clint began. "These are the Winchesters, Sam and Dean." As if he met hunters every day, Phil Coulson nodded to each, extending his hand and repeating their name as he shook theirs.
"Good to meet you, gentlemen," Coulson gave them each a nod. "May I have a word, agent?" He and Clint took a few steps away.
"We going to D.C.?" Sam asked, distracting Dean from watching the back view of Clint and Coulson.
"It's close, and we can kill some werewolves. That's our kind of job." Dean stared ahead, thinking. "He offered to pay us, you know. Like guns-for-hire."
Sam turned, startled. "What did you say?"
"I told him we'd talk about it. I don't like it. But he says he can wipe our records clean. No murder, robbery, desecrations. . ."
"Yeah, but we'd be working for the government, or whatever S.H.I.E.L.D. is. I have my doubts."
Clint turned back to them. "Let me know you if need any support if you head to D.C." He hesitated, as if he wanted to say more, before picking up his duffel.
They both stepped towards each other at the same time, almost bumping hands as they moved together, Clint's left and Dean's right, and Clint's smile spread across his face. With a chuckle, Clint tangled his hand behind Dean's neck and pulled him in for the kiss; Dean's hand circled Clint's waist and reeled him forward at the same time. Dean wanted to taste Clint one more time; odds were they would never cross paths again, and if Sam was cool with screwing a goddess then Dean could damn well say a proper goodbye. As they parted, Dean saw Coulson standing, stone-faced as if he was waiting for a train, unfazed and seemingly uninterested, tapping the screen of his phone. Sam, however, was slack-jawed, stunned; Dean raised his eyebrows and gave Sam his "what?" look.
"Sam," Clint said with a nod as he turned away and boarded the plane. The jet rose slowly into the air and Dean stood watching it for a few moments before he headed for the driver's side.
"Dude." Sam said, still standing in the same place. "You're not going to say anything?"
"Nope," Dean slid behind the wheel. "Get in the car." Sam folded his body into the passenger side. Dean's phone vibrated and played a tinny version of Smoke on the Water while Sam's went off at the same time. A text message popped up. "Sam, do not open that."
Sam was already chuckling, enlarging the photo and waving it in Dean's direction. A still image of Dean and Clint kissing in living technicolor filled the small screen. "Proof! MIB Coulson must have a serious megapixel camera on that phone of his to get this good of a shot. Look, I can blow it up and it's still not grainy." He zoomed in on the lip lock and Dean tried to snatch the phone.
"I swear to God if you don't delete that …" Dean growled, but Sam just laughed.
"Oh, this is getting saved, and if I had a Facebook page, I'd post it."
Dean hit reply and sent off a terse message that was answered in seconds.
He could take both of us at the same time without breaking a sweat, so no.
He started the car as Sam continued to manipulate the picture, turning it around and setting it as his background image.
"You sure you're going to D.C. because of werewolves? Or to see secret agent man again?" Sam said, opening his laptop and connecting his phone to download onto the hard drive.
"Shut up, Sam," Dean practically growled. "Or I'll have to mention the whole fucking goddess thing a few thousand times." Sam just chuckled, fingers clicking the keys.
Dean took a second to save the picture in his own phone before he pulled out, spinning gravel, not looking forward to the drive with a smug Sam.
Author's note: So, this is my first slash fiction. It's a learning process, as you can probably tell. There's more to the story and I plan to get around to writing it because I absolutely want Dean and Tony Stark to go drinking together while Sam fangirls over Captain America. And I can't wait to see Widow's reaction to Clint's new love interest … and a very handsome Sam Winchester. Right now, Dean is demanding that I work on my threesome AU for him, Sam and a lovely young woman named Rowan, and Clint is enamored with a certain Green-eyed doctor set of stories. So, soon, my lovelies, some fine sipping whiskey in a D.C. establishment and more grief from Natasha. I promise!