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25 January 2009 @ 06:21 pm
Explosive Material (1/1)  
Title: Explosive Material
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Dean Winchester/Bela Talbot
Word Count: 2,410
Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: The entirety of season 3, up through and including episode 3.15, "Time is on My Side"
Summary:We are odd compounds full of explosive material to which circumstances may at any time apply a spark to create results undreamed of.
Other: Having been fascinated by the possibility of exploring what may have resulted in some bastardized version of a relationship between Dean and Bela, I chose them as my pairing for the 1sentence challenge. 50 prompts, 1 sentence each, all outlining the way that I think they may have eventually come together if given the opportunity. It begins in canon and is woven back into canon at the end, but most of what lies in between is nothing but me taking great liberties with two characters I can't claim as my own. I also can't claim anything particularly linear about what is not so much a story as it is snapshots of a story that was never told.
Author's Note: Supernatural and its characters have been manipulated here without the knowledge or consent of Eric Kripke and Warner Bros. Entertainment. No copyright infringement is intended.

"We are odd compounds full of explosive material to which circumstances may at any time apply a spark to create results undreamed of." -Joseph Farrell



Appropriately, his first memory of Bela isn't of Bela at all, but of an engaging Biggerson's waitress named Kary with beguiling cobalt eyes, a short black bob and even shorter black skirt that swayed just so with the rock of her hips.

23 - FIRE

The rabbit's foot that is responsible for bringing them together in the dark cemetery burns fast, scenting the air with singed fur, crackling and popping with the fury that he can see in Bela's eyes as she shoots daggers at him through the haze of heat and smoke.

25 - MASK

When she shows up on the afternoon of October 31st without announcing her arrival, he hands her a broom that has been leaning against the old bed and breakfast's porch railing and gives her a wily smile, "Here, you don't even need a mask."


The dimples that stand like sentinels on either side of her spine peek out from between her shirt's hem and skirt's waistband as she leans forward over the aged newspaper clippings spread on the table in front of her and Sam, and Dean's eyes are drawn there as he stands behind her, tempted by the thought of his tongue dipping into the shallow divots.


Formalwear is as foreign to him as denim and dirt is familiar, but the tux seems somehow less offensive as he descends the staircase and catches the look of unconcealed lust on her face and assembling appreciatively in her eyes.

29 - DANCE

The swell of orchestral music fills the Sea Pines Maritime Museum and the distinguished guests are melded into pairs, swaying blithely to the warble of violins while juggling flutes of champagne, and for just a moment, watching Bela's sleek black dress flutter around hr ankles as she parts the crowd, Dean thinks he might not mind being here without an agenda.

27 - FALL

He watches her teeter across the uneven earth of the cemetery in her impractical pumps, stumbling as she steps into divots in the grass and steadying herself more than once by laying a hand on his arm and he sighs, grasping her by the bend of her elbow, "Maybe if your ass falls six feet down an open grave, you'll stop wearing heels all of the damn time."


He never thought he could fear for her life, but as a gale of rain and wind batters them and she crumples between the headstones, choking and spewing water, panic rises inside him as swiftly as the spirit storm has swelled around them.

2 - HERO

Bela is certainly no damsel in distress - she's made that perfectly clear time and again - and maybe that's one of the things that he likes best; she doesn't expect him to be a hero, doesn't want him to save her.

5 - RUN

Each time she crosses him, he warns her, telling her to run for her life before he ends it, and each time he knows that his threat is empty or he wouldn't bother with giving her the advantage of foresight.

4 - BOX

Sam had once told him that Bela has style in her deft dealings with those she feels she owes something to and perhaps he was right; Dean finds the pink pastry box waiting on the hotel room table when he returns, sees the brown-crusted apple pie inside and knows it's an apology meant for him.


When their lips crush together, the violent surge of her tongue and her nails hollowing sharp crescents into his back tells him that she hasn't already forgotten that he'd called her a thieving, money-hungry bitch, but her anger is still so fresh that he can almost sense her sizzling with it in his arms and he is unprepared for how alive it makes him feel.


He presses the anterior plane of her body against the wall, holding her wrists captive in his fists as he forces her arms down at her sides; he's in charge, he's calling the shots, but then she fits the curve of her bottom back against his groin and suddenly he forgets how to breathe.


They don't speak that first night, only their ragged breathing an insinuation of mutual post-coital bliss as silence falls heavily between where their bare backs face one another.

15 - SILK

She hadn't lied about the silk sheets, but the sight of her naked body twisted in a swathe of deep sea blue the next morning is more jarring than his vivid imagination could ever have prepared him for.


"Promise," he demands, smiling as he waggles a pinky finger at her specifically because he knows she'll ignore any gesture - especially one as infantile as a pinky swear - that requires integrity, "I want you to promise you'll stay the hell out of our way for once."


When he arrives back at his motel room and finds her rifling through the dresser drawers, he becomes rigid with what feels immediately like familiar betrayal, but before he can ask her what she's looking for, she turns toward him, pupils dilating at the center of a cool blue gaze, "I'm not stupid enough to think you'd stash the Colt with your knickers, Dean; I left my necklace on your nightstand yesterday and it's not there anymore."


She never says goodbye when she leaves whatever sleepy town they're in behind, simply disappearing as though she has no stake in anyone's affairs but her own, even though Dean could sometimes swear otherwise.

18 - DREAM

Dean appreciates the female body with enthusiasm and always has, but hers is what dreams are made of; dreams that he wakes from to the thrum of blood rushing in his ears, sweat beading on his hairline and damp sheets ensnaring his legs.

41 - WAIT

"Wait," he presses the phone closer to his ear, listening briefly to the crackle of the line as he summons a casual tone, "Will I--will we be seeing you in Toledo or are you going to make our lives easier and drop off the radar again for a while?"

10 - DRINK

Drinks become their covert ritual when they are together, the wordless pouring of shots becoming deft slugs straight from the bottle, each mouthful burning away her preference of tongue-drying red wine and his resistance to his attraction to her.

49 - LOCK

Even when she knows to expect him she secures her hotel room door and when pounding on it fails to convince her to open up, he jimmies the lock, certain that she's right on the other side, delighting in making life just a little bit harder for him.

8 - COLD

They're hot and cold, a product of inexplicable attraction and Schizophrenic fluctuation between respect and loathing; Dean can never be quite sure which Bela he will get and perhaps that is her appeal in the beginning.

9 - RED

He's never been with a woman who takes lipstick application so seriously, and he finds strange satisfaction in discovering remnants here and there: a crimson half moon below his jaw bone; a cherry red stain at the corners of his mouth; bright crescents on the collar of his white t-shirt.


"America's got talent," he murmurs as she produces a knotted cherry stem on her tongue, and she smiles as she plucks it free, her eyes rolling in disdain, "I'm English, you imbecile."

36 - LAUGH

When they realize simultaneously that they are laughing together, full-bodied and emphatic with wide, smiling eyes, it's like turning a corner and they laugh all the more until finally tapering into anxious, reverential silence.


Overwhelmed, overcome, overwrought; there is nothing pleasant about the myriad of things that Bela makes him feel when they're together and yet, like the masochist that he is, Dean finds himself desperately wanting more of her than what she is willing to give him.


She grasps his hand in hers in a moment of unexpected impulse, reflexively squeezing with a strength that belies her slender fingers and the carefully cultivated impassivity on her face.


Every so often, so rarely that he can seldom be sure of what he's glimpsed, he sees the good in her eclipsing the bad for just long enough to make him question his already ambivalent opinion of her, and then it's gone again behind that dark, convincing veneer.

42 - TALK

"Don't talk," she murmurs, pressing one long finger against the part of his lips as she gazes down to where he kneels between her thighs through a heavy veil of eyelashes, "I'm sure you can think of something better to do with your mouth."


There is certainly nothing sacred about their wildly sexual relationship and Dean likes it that way, but every now and then she touches his face as though he is immeasurably precious and he's stricken with fear that something's changing--morphing into something he's not prepared to handle.

13 - VIEW

He sometimes wonders how the two of them can lead such different lives, believing in such different things, and still come together as often as they do, finding a million different ways to pretend that being with one another doesn't feel like viewing the world from across enemy lines.

1 - RING

The knot of their clasped hands rests between them on the tabletop, a forgotten weave of tentative fingers until she absently twists the silver ring riding the rise of his knuckle and his palms become instantly clammy.


She knows so very little about him and he even less about her, but they never ask each other probing questions or offer soul-bearing answers, both knowing that ignorance is as close to bliss as the two of them can come.


As soon as her underwear slip from her hips, they briefly ring her knees and then immediately pour down her shapely calves to create a pool of cobalt satin and lace that her feet remain submerged in until he hoists her right off of them and into his arms.


She whispers against the shell of his ear as she stretches above him, the languid rock of her hips pulling him deeper as she proffers praise in the form of his name, sending sharp darts of heat straight to his gut.

16 - COVER

He can't hear her breathing in the night (not like Sam, who has always snored softly in his sleep) and sometimes he can't resist the urge to feel for her presence with one blind hand, searching out the rise and fall of her back, never less surprised to find that she hasn't slipped out in the cover of darkness.

26 - ICE

Her hands are like ice when she comes in from the rain and he tucks them inside of his own, but there is something shyly grateful in the smile that forms on her trembling lips and he feels warmed from the inside out.

37 - LIES

When she begins telling the truth and confiding in him her fears and misgivings, he realizes that he prefers the lies and bravado and the wall it creates between them--the way it's protected him from seeing the real Bela and caring.

30 - BODY

He's fascinated by what is beneath her clothes; not the lithe legs or the supple breasts or the delicately muscled stomach, but what is in the mind that he knows is constantly at work and what she carries in her carefully guarded heart.

44 - HOPE

"There might just be hope for you yet, Dean Winchester," she tells him as he mindlessly props the door open for her, and he smiles faintly, unable to bring himself to see beyond the 259 red x's on his mental calendar that make him think otherwise.

33 - WORLD

Dean can't bring himself to buy into the concept of world peace--let alone inner peace, with a demon army wreaking havoc on the poor bastards he tries so hard to save, but somewhere along the line, he begins to realize that Sam and, unexpectedly, Bela offer him a much-needed sense of equanimity that allows him to carry on when merely living seems insufferable and he begins to wish what's left of his year away in earnest.


Sam never questions Dean when Bela begins to accompany them on outings more and more; she sits in the backseat as they drive endless miles of American highway, a silent pink elephant between two brothers who have never been all that good at offering or accepting explanations for their behavior.

14 - MUSIC

He steals dubious glances at her polished nails tapping a companion beat to Watts' drumming on the dashboard from the corner of his eye more than once, hears her enthusiastic hum muffled by Mick trilling "Paint It, Black" and then her pragmatic English lilt, "The Stones are from London, you know."

35 - FEVER

After a long night spent in the pouring rain with Sam and a salt-filled shotgun, the morning sun does little to warm him, but he bats Bela's hand away from his damp forehead, knowing his cheeks are flushed and eyes are glazed even as he protests her concern in a hoarse mumble, "I don't have a frickin' fever...I don't get sick, okay?"


"Kinda funny that women always want men to make them promises and expect us to be honest with them about what we want from the future," he muses out loud, and he can feel her frowning without even looking at her, "but as it stands, I don't have a future and..." he chuckles wryly, "I doubt anyone would wanna spend forever with me where I'm goin'."


By candlelight her face startles him; the flicker of the leaping flames contorting her features and casting unearthly orange pools in her eyes makes him shudder and he wonders if he appears similarly warped--if she's looking back at him and thinking of their shared fate.


"She travels the fastest who travels alone," she murmurs cooly one evening as she carefully folds her clothes inside of her designer suitcase, hell-bent on leaving even though, for the very first time, he's asked her to stay, please stay.


When the digits on the car radio clock wink 12:00 a.m., Dean feels like they're taunting him and though he rides in silence with his brother at his side, feigning resignation, his heart clenches painfully as he imagines the life draining from Bela's eyes.


She slips into his sleeping mind long after he knows she's gone for good, an antithetical vision in faintly luminescent white; pale skin, pale eyes, glowing too softly in angelic radiance with wings that he watches burn with Hellfire, feathers dissolving to ash and smoke.
Current Mood: accomplishedaccomplished
Current Music: "Yellow," Coldplay
Rachel: [Supernatural/Dean Approves]notyourstarx0 on January 25th, 2009 11:57 pm (UTC)
I'm glad that they finally got their angry sex. Way better than irritating angel sex.
Erin: Crazy [Bela]xxsh0tgun on January 26th, 2009 12:56 am (UTC)
Why, yes. They did.

Strange that I don't really ship them but I feel compelled to let them have the angry sex that they missed out on, right? Or...it's just because other female characters on the show < Bela.
(Deleted comment)
Erinxxsh0tgun on January 26th, 2009 04:38 am (UTC)
Aw, thanks! Glad you like it!
garfield85garfield85 on January 26th, 2009 02:28 am (UTC)
Thanks a lot for sharing :)) I liked it a lot. And I think you named the story perfectly :)) Great job!
Erinxxsh0tgun on January 26th, 2009 04:38 am (UTC)
Thanks so much for taking the time to read and review. I appreciate it! :)
Sarah :): Valentine's Day--I heart you! :)sarah_p on January 26th, 2009 04:03 am (UTC)
Ahh, Erin, these are all fabulous, but, yes, Mask MIGHT BE THE BEST THING EVER, HEEE. Box makes me all squishy inside (Aww!), and Talent is INSPIRED. ALSO: HOT PEOPLE HAVING SEX=INSTA!WIN.
Erin: My BFF Jensen [Jensen/Jared]xxsh0tgun on January 26th, 2009 04:37 am (UTC)
Ah, Sarah. ILU. This was one of the weirdest things I've ever written. I'm not good with disjointed but that's kinda what it had to be!

Anyhoo, the best part about this is that I seriously started the prompts at the end of June when I started school and I've been finished with them since around mid-July and am just now posting them. PROCRASTINATION MUCH? :D Maybe someday I can finish that story I started LAST MARCH that you read bits of in L.A. HEE.
Sandra: Dean_eyebrowdutchess_sandra on January 26th, 2009 07:01 pm (UTC)
I enjoyed this very much. You've caught them perfectly in just 50 lines!

Candle, Cold and Fever are my favorites :)
Erin: Burn [Dean]xxsh0tgun on January 26th, 2009 07:20 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! I appreciate you taking the time to read and review--and I'm particularly glad that you liked my response to "Candle," as it was one of my personal favorites :)