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THIS BLOG AND THE PAGE IT WAS ON WAS HACKED AND DELETED.  BUT DIANNA HAD EVERYTHING BACKED UP, SO HERE ARE THE FIRST 6,450 WORDS OF THE STORY Sam Winchester Sam had suggested to Dianna that Wallis' Place should serve food.  Burgers and fries, at a minimum. Sam didn't know anything about restaurant management, but he did know there was a small grill in the back that could churn out some hot meals, if Dianna wanted to do that.  Instead of taking his advice, and firing up that grill, she had bought more snacks - bags of chips, candy bars, cookies, and all manner of pickled stuff in big gallon or five-gallon jars.  Lined up on a shelf to the side of the liquor bottles were jars of pickled sausages, pigs feet, eggs, okra, and...even several varieties of pickles.  Next to Sam's longneck Budweiser on the bar counter was a small paper plate that contained two of those shriveled sausages, a pickled egg, and a two big dill pickles.  He'd also bought a bag of baked potato chips.  All of her chips were low calorie or reduced fat.  Most without salt.  In fact, Sam could see that the cookies were mostly sugar-free, multi-grain or things like granola bars. None of it looked very appetizing.  Except for the beer, which he tilted back and glugged several ounces down his throat.  Now that tasted good.  Activity on the monster front had been slow of late.  Nonexistent, really, since the affair with the goblins here in Kansas City, which was just fine and dandy with Sam.  He kind of needed a break, some downtime.  He frowned as his phone started vibrating in his pocket.  He withdrew it and looked at the call information.  It was Bobby.  His frown deepened, because he suspected his little vacation was about to come to an end. "Bobby.  Dude.  Good to hear from you.  What's up?"  Sam listened as Bobby outlined what would become the Winchester's next case.  There was trouble down in Cajun country.  The magical Geiger counter was off the charts in a little, backwoods place in northwestern Louisiana called Bon Temps.  The name was familiar to Sammy, but he couldn't quite place it.  A rumor was spinning around down there that someone had concocted an antidote for vampirism.  An antidote or the opposite - something that could easily be administered to a human to make a vampire.  Put it in the water system and either the whole population becomes bloodsucking night owls, or the community suddenly is bloodsucker free.  Either way, its going to be like an earthquake, tectonic plates grinding against each other, in the battle against good and evil.  The monsters are going to be shivering in their boots if its really an antidote.  On the other hand, if it's an easy way to make vampires, the balance between the good guys and the black hats just slipped into the dark, gaping abyss. "Ok, Bobby.  I'll round up the gang and we'll be in Bon Temps in two days."             OOC: Written by Dianna and Dean Dianna hadn't seen Dean in nearly a week. His brother, Sam, had stayed in KC. Dianna suspected he missed Sami, and since Dianna was his only connection to her, Sam stayed for a while. He was trying desperately to let go, and Dianna was the one person who understood how he felt. She didn't ask Sammy about Dean. The way she saw it she and Dean had something comforting but not necessarily forever. Deep in her soul she wanted nothing more than to have Dean around permanently, but she was completely empathetic with his reasoning. She feared that anyone she learned to care about was destined to die. She knew Dean felt the same way. And still she missed him to the point that she felt a literal ache when she thought about him. Sammy had been pestering her to open up the grill since she had done the burgers for them while they strategized on the goblin hoard they had been faced with. She had bought more snack stuff instead. She knew Sammy was right. It would be good for business, and she would implement it eventually. But she was exhausted right now. She had lost her husband for the second time when Jack had possessed Dean for a short time. Then Lilith had murdered her sister, Sami. Everyone was licking their own personal wounds. Dianna had felt restless for the last couple of days. Things in her city had never been this quiet. Lilith had been forced to withdraw with her demon entourage after they had defeated the goblins. There had been few other monsters active as well. It was as if the collective bravado had been at least temporarily drained from all the unsavory creatures. Dianna had offered Sam the use of her childhood home while he was in the city. She felt better having someone there, and it was an economic boon for Sam. The home was still awash in her sister's essence though, and as a consequence Sam had taken to spending the daylight hours here in the club. They had developed a warm companionship, though it was completely tacit. Sammy had been good naturedly teasing her about her choices in snack foods versus her choices in coffee when his cell phone went off. She handed him a fresh beer and opened one for herself. It was Bobby Singer. He had apparently caught wind of a new case in the cajun south. Sam promised to round everyone up and hung up. "If you want a burger and fries, Sammy, I will fire up the grill. And when I find a good fry cook I'll open it up to the public. Ok?" A voice rang out behind her and she froze. "That sounds fair to me, Sammy. I don't suppose you would make that two burgers, Dianna?" The rich baritone of the person who had been occupying her mind the most washed over her. She whirled and for just a moment stood grinning foolishly. Dean grinned back and held out his arms. She flew into them plastering her lips against his. She thought she heard Sammy chuckle but she ignored it. "I'm sorry for disappearing on you." Dean murmured in her ear. "I needed to think." "I know. So what did you come up with?" "We might as well paint targets on our backs." His grin faded. "Everyone I love dies. I'm not very safe to hang around." Dianna stroked his cheek with one finger. "It's too late. The targets are there whether you and I care abut each other or not. I think we both know that. If we're together at least we can watch each other's backs." She kissed him again this time lightly and sweetly."Did you just tell me that you love me?" "Are you one of those women that needs to hear it twice?" "Oh, I'm one of those women who needs to hear it every day. But only if you mean it. And I love you too." Dianna glanced over at Sam who was openly watching their exchange and grinning broadly his arms folded across his chest. "Hey, Bro." Dean finally greeted his brother. "Bobby just called me. Said something about vamps in Louisiana." He tossed Sam the keys to the Impala. "We can leave first thing in the morning. I'll drive Dianna's car. Have you called everyone else?" "I heard that!" Dianna called from the small kitchen where she had gone to fire up the grill. "You had better be prepared to convince me." She laughed and slapped three patties on the hot grill. Dean poked his head into the kitchen. "I can be very persuasive when I need to be." Dianna shook her head and handed him two plates with bacon avocado cheeseburgers and fresh hot fries. She grabbed the third and followed him out to the club where she grabbed three bottles of beer. When their meal was done Dianna took Dean's hand and pulled him from his seat. "Sorry Sammy. We have a bit of catching up to do." She took Dean upstairs where they played and rested throughout the night until morming caught them exhausted and still sleeping. Sara Sara watched Sam get off the phone. He looked like he had the entire world on his shoulder these days. She poured a couple of beers and headed over his way. She nudged him, "you ought to take a lesson from your brother take a night off once in a while." She handed him a beer and sat down across from him. "So what's up," she twirled her glass around playing with it before taking a sip. Nate was still working behind the bar, but the last customer had already gotten a fresh drink. She motioned for him to grab a beer and come over to join them. He was more experienced in these matters he might be able to cheer the guy up. She reached back pulling an ink pen out of her hair allowing it to tumble down on her shoulders. "You can't keep going like this," he looked at her as if he didn't understand what she was talking about. "You know beating yourself up," she leaned back taking a few more sips of her drink. "How about just for tonight you humor me. Hang with me and Nate for a bit relax," she sat the glass down on the table. Sam Winchester Sammy did his best to beam a smile Sara's way.  The girl had proved herself as a brave and skillful hunter in the just-finished Goblin case.  She had earned Sam's respect, as had her boyfriend, Nate.  The bacon-avocado cheeseburgers that Dianna had cooked up certainly beat those shriveled and dead sausages Sam had fished out of the big pickle jar.  One of those sausages sat on a paper plate, forlorn and discarded, pushed off to the side.  As a way to customize the burger, Sam had added several dollops of mustard and mayonnaise.  The burger combined with a big pile of fries looked like about 1200 calories and four times the recommended daily allowance of saturated fats.  It's a good thing hunters stay active, otherwise, they'd all weigh 400 pounds and have arteries in need of a major Roto-Rooter clean out.  Sam unscrewed the lid to that pickle jar and plopped the remaining sausage from his plate back into the turbid, vinegar soup.  May it Rest in Peace. Through a mouthful of delicious cheeseburger, Sam responded to Sara, "I'm ok.  I'll be alright."  Although he said that, in reality he was still seriously brooding over the loss of Sami Remington.  Everyone else seemed to have gotten past it, but it was going to take a while for Sam.  He nodded towards where Dean had disappeared with Dianna, "Dean pretty much gave you the clip notes.  Bobby has a beam on our next case.  We're headed to Cajun country tomorrow.  A little town called Bon Temps near Shreveport.  The vampires down there are all as nervous as long-tailed cats in a room full of rocking chairs.  Someone has cooked up some sort of potion.  Bobby wasn't sure, but its either an antidote for vampirism, or if a person drinks it, it turns them into a vampire.  Either way, its big news, and its going to shake things up.  If it's an antidote, lots of non-vamps are going to be trying to devamp the night shift.  If it's the opposite, some paleface with fangs might put it in the water system, turning whole towns into the Night of the Not-so-Living Undead."  He chased the last of his cheeseburger with a good slug of Budweiser.  "Louisiana vampires are a different breed than what we're used to.  When you stake them, they turn into a steaming pile of blood/entrails stew.  A warning here, don't stake one in your living room.  You'll never get vampire out of the carpet.  And they're organized down there, too.  They have kingdoms.  There's a king of Louisiana and he's got like deputies that rule areas.  Bon Temps is in Area 5, which is ruled by a 1000-year old vamp named Eric Northman.  There are other things that live out there in bayou and the back woods, too.  Shape shifters, werewolves, witches, and other things that wouldn't hesitate to disembowel you just for the fun of it, or eat you whole with gusto, just like I relish Dianna's bacon-avocado cheeseburgers." "Has anyone seen Rachel?  We need to point her south and get her on the road tomorrow with the rest of us." Rachel Winchester The events of the last seven days had taken it's toll on Rachel Winchester, which was slowly becoming very visible within her facial features. She was feeling constantly tired and drained of energy, and her stress levels were almost through the roof. Not even a fortnight ago, the twenty-two year old blonde had discovered her pregnancy during the goblin case. The white-eyed demon known as Lilith had managed to get her grubby hands on her unborn child from her womb and fast-forwarded the growing process. At the end of the case, Lilith had no choice but to give Rachel and Castiel their daughter back. The unborn foetus was handed back in the form of a month-old baby. The new parents quickly found themselves unprepared for their daughter, who they named Mari Winchester. Dianna Remington had been kind enough to give Rachel a couple of bottles and a few blankets, but Rachel had no choice but to take up hussling hunters at pool for a few extra dollars to buy diapers and baby-grows. However, since the youngest Winchester sibling had not actually given birth to Mari, she felt a little detached from the child. She did not feel the connection that she had hoped to feel towards her daughter. Castiel, on the other hand, had taken to fatherhood like a duck took to water. He doted on Mari, and she seemed to take comfort in his presence. The fallen Angel seemed to be the only person who could soothe the baby girl when she cried at night. Rachel had often walked into their room at the clinic to find her partner lying on the bed with the baby sound asleep on his chest. Rachel did feel a little jealous of their connection, considering that Castiel had once thought of getting rid of the baby to save her life. It didn't exactly seem fair. Rachel could not say a bad word against Castiel, not since the ending of their previous case. He had proven himself to be a hands-on father, especially when it came to the night feeds. Their relationship had grown stronger since Mari had come back to them. They had stopped their arguing and fighting, and were starting to take time out of their days to spend together as a family. The tension in the air that had surrounded them during the goblin case had completely disappeared over night. Now, instead of sending each other glares from across the room, they shared smiles. Rachel just could not help but feel sorry for her older brother, Sam. Since Sammi Remington's death, Sam had been a little withdrawn. It couldn't be easy for him to watch his siblings getting on with their lives and their relationships only a week after he had lost the blonde haired hunter. Even Nate and Sarah seemed to have gotten together. Rachel had seen the look of longing in her older brother's eyes, and her heart went out to him. With her brother's obvious heartache in mind, the blonde Winchester gave her sleeping daughter one last look before she pulled the clinic room door to. Wearing a pair of jogging bottoms and a vest, Rachel made her way through the clinic and into Wallis' Place main bar area. She had heard both Dianna and Dean running up the stairs to Dianna's private apartment in a fit of giggles of excitement. "So, big brothers back." Rachel muttered under her breath as she folded her arms. She made her way across the bar area to where Sam and Sarah were sat. "Did I hear that we're heading south?" The blonde perked a thin eyebrow as she sat down next to her brother, pinching his burger from his plate before she took a bite. Nate Nate came out from behind the bar. He had suffered a flash of de ja vu as he watched Dianna and Dean ascend the stairs to her private living space. This time he smiled broadly though. He thought they made a good couple. They were so alike in temperament. He sat down next to the beautiful brunette that he had decided mirrored himself. He still didn't know how he would have been able to cope with Sami's death if it hadn't been for Sarah's warmth and concern. He hadn't said so out loud, but if someone were to ask him out right how he felt about Sarah, he would be forced to admit that he had fallen crazy in love with her. So despite the profound sorrow they had endured, still endured, some happiness had also been the result of their last case. He understood Sarah's compassion for Sam. He had watched Dianna wage this same struggle when her husband, Jack, had died. While Sam and Sami hadn't reached a permanency in their relationship, Nate knew it had been evolving in that very direction. He looked at Sam. "I think Dianna might be willing to close the bar for a few days for this one. I intend to go along anyway, and she'd never fire me." He chuckled lightly. "You are welcome to join Sarah and I at my place later though if you like." He glanced at his girlfriend affectionately. "She's right in thinking you shouldn't be alone. I'm a decent cook. We can throw in a movie, drink some beer and just chill." He rose when one of the three waitresses approached the bar. A bot followed on her heels, so Nate knew she was about to go take another order while the bot waited patiently to serve the one she had dropped on the bar counter. "Back to work. Just give it some thought, Sam." He kissed Sarah and winked at her then resumed mixing drinks. Sarah lit up as Nate sat down beside her draping an arm around him. He had become the center of her world.  Most of the girl's focus was on the man as he spoke.  He was simply amazing. It didn't surprise her too much that he offered not only to help on the case but a place to for Sam to stay for the night. She smiled warmly reluctantly letting him go as he had to tend to matters back at the bar. "I guess that is settled then your bunking at our place tonight," she took a swig of her beer as Rachel sat down and joined them. "Hey Rach how are you?" the girl appeared notable tired, but she didn't want to call attention to it. It was to be expected after all.  "Yeah apparently there is this crazy little town in Louisiana teaming with weird things. They are brewing up some sorta nasty brew down there," she addressed Rachel's question. She wasn't sure though that the young woman would be up for a hunt. How could she with the baby? "We're heading that way in the morning," she took another drink of her beer.  "You guys wanna crash at our place too tonight? I could watch after the baby for a bit let you catch up on your rest?" she was pretty sure that Nate wouldn't mind. Rachel Winchester The blonde Winchester smiled brightly at the brunette hunter as she thought about Sarah's offer.  To catch up on her rest would be amazing, but to let someone babysit Mari was something else. Rachel trusted Sarah and Nate with her life, but she didn't know how she felt about letting them watch her daughter for a night. After all, it had only been a week since the white-eyed demon, Lilith, had taken Mari from her. What if there was something else after her baby? Correction; there would always be something or someone after her daughter. Mari was one of a kind, a Human-Angel hybrid. There was no force on Earth, good or evil, that couldn't deny that they desired the child's powers. No, Rachel and Cas would take care of her, watch over her. Besides, the young blonde woman hadn't even stepped into the parking lot since the goblin case, still a little too afraid that those foul creatures were lying in wait. "Thanks, but no thanks. We've got it covered." Rachel took another bite out of Sam's burger, before she shot her brother another cheeky grin. Her once signature grin was slowly but surely becoming the mask that she wore daily to hide her true feelings and thoughts. Only Castiel knew why she had not left the sanctuary of Wallis' Place. The others would probably think that something was wrong with her if she confessed to them. A hunter who was afraid of what was out there in the shadows was entirely unheard of. There was no doubt her brothers would force her to hang up her weapons and become a stay at home mom to Mari. But, she couldn't deal with the constant crying and feeding, not to mention the hourly diaper changes. To have someone so small and helpless completely depend on her was terrifying. Rachel did want to hunt, she wanted it badly. She needed to prove to herself and the group of hunters that she was still capable of doing her job, that she was still Rachel Winchester, the hunter that demons loved to hate. "So, what have we got? Vamps? Demons? Werewolves? All of the above?" The blonde perked a thin eyebrow at Sam and Sarah, as she set the partially eaten burger onto a napkin so she could wipe the bun-seeds from her joggers. "Please tell me its not goblins. I've had enough of those buggers to last me the rest of my life." Sam Winchester Sam snatched the burger back from Rachel and shot her a possessive, but victorious look. He ruminated a little over her turning down Sara's offer.  He was pretty sure Rachel hadn't left Wallis' Place in over a week.  But everything had changed radically for his little sister.  Welcome to the strange new world of getting up five times a night to feed or change little Mari.  But it was a lot more than just caring for the little girl. Mari was riveting, and not just for Rachel and Cas, but for everyone.  It was fun just to look at her, and watch each and every little expression, giggle, and burp.  Those impossibly small, chubby little fingers were always on the move, and it was wondrous to let all five of Mari's fingers on a hand wrap themselves around one of Sammy's index fingers.  And then there was the love and wonderment reflected in the blue of the little girl's eyes - like she was constantly grateful and amazed to be alive here in this world.  The little girl was a joy and had become the center of attention around here, but it also meant Rachel's entire life and all her priorities had spun around the dial a few times.  Maybe she and Cas were just waiting here in Wallis' Place for that compass dial to find a direction.  And then there had been the betrayal that Sam had wrought on Rachel.  That was going to be awkward for a long, long time to come.  In fact, Sam considered it a sea change between himself and Rachel.  Never would anything be quite the same between them.  That unquestioning trust that Rachel had for Sam was gone, dashed on the rocks.  He was going to have to do what he could to rebuild that trust, but she would always harbor some doubt where Sam was concerned.  How could she not?  It was the life of her baby that Sam had jeopardized.    Sam managed a grin for Sarah.  "If Rachel's going to stay here, maybe I will too.  Maybe I can help with Mari if help is needed."  He smiled genuinely for his sister before turning his thoughts to their new case.  "Well, like Sarah was saying, we need to get on the road south.  I was thinking we could start the road trip tomorrow."  He tried to read the reaction in Rachel's eyes, but her poker face was unreadable.  Would she be able to leave the security blanket of Wallis' Place?  Sam finished off the cheeseburger, but pushed his plate, which was still half full of fries towards Rachel.  "We'll take Highway 71 south through Fayetteville.  If we leave mid-day, we might get to Fort Smith or Mena by nightfall.  We can hold up in our usual Bed Bug Motel and then get into Shreveport by early afternoon the next day."  It was about a nine or ten hour drive from Kansas City to Shreveport, which normally they would just pound out with an occasional stop for gasoline, cheese puffs, and soda pop, but having a baby along changed everything.  They'd need to take it a little slower. "There's a vampire bar just outside Shreveport called Fangtasia."  The responding aghast look from Rachel warranted an explanation.  "They do things differently down there, Rach.  Louisianans sort of accept vampires.  Like alligators, mosquitos, and hurricanes.  Its just something you learn to live with, I guess." He shrugged.  "We'll get to Fangtasia in time, but Bobbie wants to first meet up with us in a small town about 20 miles away, a place called Bon Temps.  We're supposed to meet him at 5:30 pm, two days from now at a bar and grill on the outskirts of town.  Something big is going down -  either an antidote to vampirism or some potion that makes people into vampires.  Bobbie wasn't exactly sure, but he'll have more information for us when we get to Bon Temps."  Now that he'd relinquished the fries to her, they suddenly looked tastier.  So he stole three of them from her and jammed all of them into his mouth.  Talking through the fries, he inquired, "Are you up for this, sis?  And what about Cas?" {{Written by Rachel Winchester and Castiel}} Vampires. The blonde Winchester could remember her first Vampire hunt well; considering that it had been her first. Dean and their father had taught her well, well enough to make sure that she survived the hunt and lived to hunt another day. Rachel had proven to her small family that night that she was not the vulnerable girl they had often thought her to be. She was just as strong and just as capable as her older brothers. After that hunt, there had been no more staying behind in the car or back at the motel to wait for them. Rachel stood proudly beside her family and watched their backs as they watched hers. After their father's death, the young blonde trusted in both of her older brothers even more to make sure that she was kept alive. She trusted in Dean to lead the way. She trusted in Sam that he would always do right by her. However, the strong and almost unbreakable trust that she and Sam shared, the trust that had taken twenty-two years to build and develop was long gone. It was dead, thanks to a portion of big brotherly betrayal. There had been every chance that they would have lost Mari forever, thanks to Sam and his decision to give into the goblin's demands and simply hand over Rachel's unborn baby to Lilith. It was Sam's fault that Rachel did not feel a motherly connection to her daughter. If only the middle Winchester sibling had just allowed nature to take its course, allowed Rachel to give birth naturally, then maybe she would feel like a proper mom instead of just a stand-in. Maybe, she wouldn't feel as compelled to take on the case. "I'm in." Rachel announced, before she popped a chip into her mouth. She couldn't bring herself to really smile at her older brother. Instead, she simply offered him a small and forced one. Sam's betrayal had completely destroyed her trust in him, but he was still her brother and one of the third that made up the deadly force that was the Winchester siblings. Rachel still wanted to smash her fist into his face for putting her daughter in that kind of danger, but that would possibly destroy the very thin connection that kept the two of them together. "But, Mari is staying with me." She couldn't trust Sam to watch over her daughter, not yet. Not even for two minutes whilst she jumped in the shower. That responsibility lay with either Cas or Dianna. The main wooden door that was the entrance to Wallis' Place swung open as the Angel known as Castiel struggled to make his way into the main bar area, a look of stress was etched into the fine details of his face. He did not care for the rather odds looks that he had received from drivers as he had made his way down the dirt track. He desired nothing more than to return to the bar, return to Rachel and their daughter.  Mari's entrance into the world may not have been the most traditional, but that did not prevent the fallen Angel from falling in love with his baby daughter the very instant he watched her open those big, beautiful eyes - her mother's eyes. The moment he first cradled Mari in his arms, Castiel could have happily returned to Heaven an ecstatic Angel. His brothers and sisters had kindly lifted the bounty that they had placed upon his head, and he was no longer a condemned Angel for impregnating a human female; however, he was no longer welcome in Heaven. Not that he cared much for the place he once called home. To Castiel, as long as he was with Rachel and Mari, he was home. It did not bother the Angel that his angelic abilities were quickly diminishing, that he was slowly becoming human. Rocking his daughter to sleep at night, falling asleep and waking up next to Rachel put everything into perspective. But, to know that Rachel struggled with her feelings towards Mari upset him. Castiel had believed that the bond between a mother and her daughter was so strong it was practically unbreakable, but Rachel's bond with their daughter seemed to be hanging on a piece of very thin string in great danger of snapping. True, the Angel knew that his beloved would never let any harm befall Mari, and that Rachel would protect the baby girl with her very life, but he still could not help but worry. The young Winchester woman was not as tuned to Mari as Castiel found himself to be. She would not awaken when their daughter cried during the dark hours of the night, nor did she understand that Mari needed almost all of their attention. Other than his worries, Castiel felt as if his new human life could not be any better. The fallen Angel was starting to feel normal and accepted within the hunting society. Even sitting down at the bar and eating with Sam, Dianna, Nate and Sarah was such a joy. There was still much for Castiel to learn, such as driving a car. What if Mari or Rachel needed medical attention? With his angelic abilities diminishing, he could no longer heal humans, or his daughter. They could not solely rely on Dianna for her medical expertise, or Dean and Sam to drive them to the nearest hospital. With his new fatherhood, Castiel understood that he now held new responsibilities to his family, and that his friends held high expectations for him. The Angel wanted to make sure that he did not disappoint. Until he learnt to drive a car, Castiel had no choice but to take the public bus. The twenty-minute ride in the metal vehicle, occupied by around thirty people was not the highlight of his day. However, Mari needed a constant supply of diapers and milk formula, and with Rachel still too scared to take their daughter from the safety of Wallis' Place after the episode with Lilith and her goblin entourage, the fallen Angel felt obligated to take the daily journey into the city centre. The bus driver kindly allowed Castiel to alight from the vehicle just a few moments walk from the parking lot of his destination. With a bargain bag of newborn diapers in one hand, and a paper-bag with two tins of milk formula in the other, he walked down the dusty road with a smile upon his face and a light skip in his step. He was only moments away from being reunited with his small family again. Making sure that he did not disturb the salt line that ran along the bottom of the main door, Castiel stepped into the familiar bar area of Wallis' Place. The smell of Dianna's famous avocado burgers filled the air, as did the sound obvious giggling of two lovers having been reunited after a week apart. Dean was back. Everyone would start to feel rather safe with the eldest Winchester sibling's strong presence around them once more. The sight of the small group of hunters at the bar brought a wider smile to Castiel's lips. Nate and Sarah both held utter happiness and contentment in their eyes. Rachel's face held the spark of cheekiness as she consumed what was obviously her brother's burger, and Sam's features held a slight disappointment. The fallen Angel immediately understood that the group's small and well needed break had come to an abrupt end. His thoughts immediately went to his daughter, who was obviously asleep in their borrowed clinic room. What would happen to her? Mari was far too young to start travelling and living the life of a hunter. "Vampire case down south." Rachel couldn't help the smile that crossed her face the moment she laid eyes upon Castiel. Their relationship was finally back to how it should have been, and for that, she was glad. But, she knew the look that now rested on his features, his worry for their daughter. She knew how her Angel felt regarding their lifestyle now that they had a small sprog in tow. However, that did not stop the blonde-haired Winchester from feeling as if it were her duty to accompany her brothers and the rest of the gang. "You in?" Castiel placed his shopping down on top of the bar as he turned to gaze upon his beloved. He made his way over to the group, and wrapped an arm across Rachel's shoulder before he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head. He was happy to be back, to see that everything was how it should be. The memories of Rachel lying bloodied and beaten, propped up against the bar as a goblin cowered over her remained etched within his memories. That was a day the Angel wished he could erase and start over again. He never should have let Rachel travel back to the bar alone. He should have gone with her. His blue orbs settled upon Sam Winchester, and almost immediately, the fallen Angel felt the urge to smite the man for his actions towards his younger sister and his niece. However, if Rachel felt just the tiniest spark of forgiveness within her, Castiel knew that he would do nothing to harm the middle sibling. "Wherever you go, I shall follow." He smiled down at Rachel, momentarily forgetting about Sam's betrayal. Sam Winchester Cas' entrance on the scene in Wallis' Place completed the old gang.  Everybody was here now, everyone who was still alive, that is.  Rachel and Cas were smiling and saying nothing derogatory or accusatory towards Sam, but hidden behind a veil of lighthearted hunter banter, he was detecting an icyness towards him, hints of which could be seen in their eyes.  Of course he deserved it.  And more.  Sam couldn't really comprehend what it would be like to be a parent, but he suspected that if he did ever have a kid, anyone or anything that threatened his child would quickly be enshrined on his permanent shit list, and at or near the top of said list.  He stopped jacking fries from what was now Rachel's plate and turned his thoughts toward the vampire case in which they'd all be neck deep in a few days. "We'll need supplies.  Vampire stuff, like Holy water, crucifixes, wooden stakes, and crossbows.  I've got a box of shotgun shells loaded with wooden pellets, but it would be good to load another box or three.  Don't wanna run out."  Shotgun shells with wooden pellets were not the sort of thing you could just go down to your nearest Sportsmen's Warehouse of Walmart and purchase.  They'd have to make their own.  "As a matter of fact, I'll work on that before hitting the hay tonight."  He looked to his brother, "Dean, I think we have at least one crossbow and a few stakes in the trunk of the Impala.  Maybe on our way out of town we can make a stop at that Hunting and Fishing Outlet store that's just down the road.  We can pick up some wooden arrows.  We can probably buy crucifixes at a truck stop."  They were in the Bible Belt, and the closer they got to Louisiana, the more likely they were to find religious icons of all kinds just about anywhere.  But then there was the matter of Holy water.  Like shotgun shells with wooden pellets, Holy water was a specialty item not readily available.  "Then we'll have to find a church."  They would enter and pretend to make penance or to pray at the altar.  But in reality, they'd be there for the express purpose of filling their vials from the Holy Aspersory, hopefully beyond the watchful eye of any priests.  Sam glanced towards Cas.  He didn't really know how Castiel, the Angel, would react to stealing Holy water from a church.  But he suspected he'd find out soon enough. "So do we have a plan?"  No one seemed to object, so Sam shrugged a mutual agreement for his friends and family.  "Then I'll start loading some shotgun shells."  Sam reached over the bar counter and used the tap to fill up a 16 ounce glass with Miller Genuine Draft, then he was off to the back room to gather the Cabela's shotgun shell reloader, wooden pellets, and wads.  

THIS BLOG AND THE PAGE IT WAS ON WAS HACKED AND DELETED.  BUT DIANNA HAD EVERYTHING BACKED UP, SO HERE AND IN THE FOLLOWING POSTS ARE THE FIRST 100,000+ WORDS OF THE STORY OOC: Starter written by Dianna Remington and Dean Winchester. It was Saturday night, so it was incredibly busy at Wallis' Place. All six serving bots were whirring and rolling from table to table taking drink orders and then waiting by the bar for Nate to mix the drinks and place them on the trays latched to the top of the bots. Dianna smoozed among the crowd flirting with the men and commiserating with the women and always keeping the booze flowing. Her sister, Sami, was wending her way through the tables doing much the same thing as Dianna did. Three other cocktail waitresses were also frantically busy. Nate's hands flew behind the bar as he expertly tossed, dashed and poured every drink to palate perfection. Two serving bots kept pace with each waitress returning to the bar on command. Sami glanced at them occasionally, her pride in them evident in each glance. The bots were her babies, and she knew they were fabulous. The bots had been a house warming gift when the club opened from Sami to her sister and brother-in-law, Jack Wallis. The bots worked well and had been an immediate hit drawing customers from all over the city and towns around. There were frequently hunters from Lawrence, Ks and even some from Topeka who came here regularly to recuperate and have some fun before the next hunt. Dianna had heard that Topeka was infested even worse than KC. She had been on a few hunts in the smaller city and was forced to agree. A quarrel broke out at a nearby table. Hunters were passionate people, and they played as hard as they worked. Their violent occupation guaranteed that many of the quarrels between hunters became physical. Because of this Dianna had a strict no fists policy. They did not have to give up their weapons until and unless they drew them. At that point they were given two choices: Give up the weapon or leave. Dianna, Sami and Nate were all fully capable of enforcing that rule, and none of them hesitated to do so when necessary. Dianna was the closest one to this quarrel so it would be up to her to intervene. This was a spat betwen husband and wife. The husband, Nick, had a nasty temper and Dianna didn't much like the man. He slapped his wife's face hard and Dianna moved.  She closed the distance between herself and the hot headed hunter in under a second. A quick flick of her wrist and his ear was firmly ensconced between her fingers. "Ow! Dammit, Dianna let go!" Nick whined. "What's the matter, Nick? Can't take a little of your own crap?" Dianna twisted and Nick went to his knees on the floor. Every eye in the place was now glued to him. Nate was grinning and slowly shaking his head. Sami leaned against the bar. She too was grinning. The expression on Dianna's face was deadly serious. Dianna glanced up at Nick's wife. "Rita, why do you put up with this motard? No man's dick is that special!" She twisted harder and Nick groaned. Dianna returned her attention to the immobile man at her feet. "You know better than to start shit here, Nick." Dianna lowered her face to within inches of his. "So here are your choices, Asshole. I can let go of you, and you can leave quietly OR I can beat you unconscious, and don't think the little black dress and heels will inhibit me." A hunter at a neighboring table snorted and laughed. He had turned in his chair to watch the unfolding mini-drama and was very amused by Nick's self- inflicted dilemma. "I'm betting on the red head." He told his companion who was sporting a lop sided grin as he too watched Nick's discomfort. The two weren't regulars at Wallis' Place but Dianna recognized them both. They had shown up at her clinic a week earlier and she had stitched them both up. She didn't ask what had clawed them. She never asked. She recognized the wounds she treated anyway and usually didn't need to ask. Both men smiled at her, and it was all she could do not to grin back. She wondered if they were back to get their stitches removed. Some hunters routinely pulled their own stitches rather than take the time to come back for that. She was inordinately glad to see them though. The taller of the two had caught her sister, Sami's, attention while the other (who was his older brother it turned out) had the kind of handsome face that made Dianna breathless in a way that she hadn't been since Jack's death. Nick was furious but helpless. "Fine, I'm outta here. Just let me go and I'll leave." Dianna twisted just a bit more to make her point before letting go. He rose to his feet rubbing his sore ear. He started to raise a fist and several hunters came to their feet including the two new ones. Nate dropped his rag on the bar, and Sami came erect her arms unfolding. Nick thought better of it and dropped his hands to his side. "You coming or not, Rita?" He demanded. Rita sighed and threw her hands up in resignation. She stood, grabbed one of her husband's arms and hauled him to the exit. Several of the hunters applauded as the couple left. Two or three hooted at the humiliated hunter. Dianna looked at the hunters who were still on their feet. "Next round is on the house for every hunter on his or her feet!" She shouted. The standing hunters cheered. Everyone else applauded good naturedly, and Nate took note of all of the ones on their feet and started setting up their drinks. Dianna's occasional spontaneous generosity made her customers very loyal, and it quickly and easily changed the atmosphere from charged and angry to celebratory again. The noise returned to it's normal loud thrumming as the serving bots delivered the free booze to the happy recipients. Dianna winked and smiled at the handsome hunter who would have wagered on her. "You would have won your bet." "I always win my bets." He smiled and returned her wink. Sami approached the table with a tray. She wasn't letting the bots wait on this table. She deposited a pitcher of beer, two frosted mugs and two shots of aged scotch whiskey before the men. Sami smiled her brightest smile at the tall gorgeous one. Dianna walked back to the bar and signaled Nate. He poured a shot of Crown Royal whiskey and slid the glass to her, then he turned and snagged a folder setting beside the silent police scanner. Dianna drank the shot and opened the folder to stare once again at the newspaper clippings inside. Several hunters had volunteered to take this case, but Dianna wasn't giving this job away. This monster's victims were all children. She wasn't going to count on anyone else to kill it. She had never encountered a monster like this before. Neither had any other hunter that had read this case. She had a theory, but it seemed too crazy put a voice to so she kept it to herself for now. It even seemed crazy to her, but it was the only thing that fit the pattern, the lore. "A case?" The rich baritone washed over her unexpectedly and Dianna jumped and closed the folder. His bright green eyes stared steadily into her own as he awaited her response. "Yes, it's a case." He reached around her for the folder. "Do you mind if I look?" She wondered what conclusions he would draw from the articles. "Suit yourself." she raised her hands from the folder and he picked it up and flipped it open. He frowned as he read the first article. He had walked over with his beer mug in his hand. Now he set the mug on the bar and perched on one of the stools to read the second article. Dianna told Nate to bring her the CR bottle and another shot glass. She filled both shot glasses and pushed one to the handsome hunter. There was one more article. He read it but looked puzzled as he closed the folder and handed it back to her. "So what do you think?" she asked. He drank the whiskey, and Dianna refilled their glasses. "Children disappear and their bleached skeletons are showing up only a few days after each kid disappears." Dean tossed off the next shot and shuddered. "First of all there is only one way to bleach bones that cleanly. You have to boil them." "I know that. I'm a doctor. The question is: What is doing this and why?" "No. The question is: What is doing this, and how can we kill it?" Dianna gazed into his eyes silently. He returned her stare unflinchingly, and she finally spoke. "I have a theory, and I will need a team, but this is my hunt. We do it my way. If you have a problem with that, then you're not invited." Dean held his hands up in mock surrender. "Fine. It's your hunt, but there is no way I'm not hunting a monster that targets children. So what's your theory?" "What did you say your name was? I'm Dianna." Dianna stuck out her right hand. "Dean." He lingered a bit when he shook her hand. "So what's your theory?" "It's going to sound bat guano crazy." "Yeah, well every theory in this line of work sounds bat guano crazy. So you might as well just spit it out." Dianna poured them each another shot and downed hers. "Goblins." "Excuse me. Did you say Goblins?" Dean's hand froze with the amber liquid half way to his mouth. He furrowed his brow and looked at her. "Goblins?" "I told you it would sound crazy." The shot glass finished it's journey to Dean's lips and he gulped it down. "Mind telling me why you think it's Goblins?" "Because the bones are found so clean. The authorities are looking for a human serial killer, but they don't know what they are actually looking at, let alone what they're looking for." Dianna poured them each another shot and continued her explanation. "Goblins live in underground nests, and every couple of centuries they come out of their hibernation to feed and to procreate. They stay above ground for a few weeks to a few months depending on the size of the nest. If we don't find them and kill them before they go back into hibernation then the nest just grows bigger so that the next time around......" Dianna's voice trailed away. "So why do they target children, and what are they doing with them exactly?" "Goblins are small. So are children. They are easier to hunt. Goblins must eat human flesh to survive, and the lore says they like it boiled." Dean groaned out loud. It figured that there would be a nest of monsters who liked to eat children. He almost regurgitated the scotch. He closed his eyes for a brief moment and rubbed his forehead. "So just how big do you think this nest is?" "I don't know." "Ok then. How do we track them?" "I don't know." "But you do know how we kill them right?" "I don't know that either." Dean snorted and shook his head."Well you seem to have gotten off to a great start with 'your' hunt. What DO you know?" "I know that they CAN be killed, and I know that we have to kill all of them. If even one survives it can build a new colony." "How can just one survivor rebuild a colony?" "Apparently they're asexual." "I don't even want to know how you know that when you don't even know how to kill the things." Dean shuddered again. "I might know someone who can tell us how to track them and kill them." Dean dug his cell phone from his pocket and flipped it open. "Bobby! What do you know about goblins?" Sarah Four years ago Sarah Walker was a typical college student. She knew nothing about the supernatural world blissfully in the dark. All this was altered by the death of her twin sister Sidney. It changed her. Loss has a way of doing that she supposed. It was this event that introduced her to paranormal and led her into the lonely life of a hunter. Sidney was not only her best friend but her roommate at the University of Tennessee. They did everything together until that fateful day. She came home to find her sister's body lying on the floor of their dorm room. The police ruled it a suicide. They didn't even investigate the matter. There apparently was no evidence of foul play. Sarah couldn't let go. She needed answers. She needed to know the truth.  The truth was far worse than anything she ever could have imaged. This was her first case, but it was the only one she never solved. She couldn't return to a normal life after the things she learned. She needed to help people keep this from happening to them. There was a need burning deep within her to catch the thing that had taken her sister.  Every hunter has a story. This was hers. It was one she didn't talk about. It was a painful wound that never healed.  It was in the past where it should stay. For now she needed a break from life on the road. This is what brought her to Wallis's Place. It was a bar for hunters. It would allow her to stay in the loop. It would allow her to feel needed and maybe for once have a bit of real human interaction with people that understood the life. She stood in the door way looking around the club with her back pack slung over her shoulder dressed in a pair of old jeans and black halter top. There was no need for fancy attire. These were all hunters here. Everyone prepared to throw down at a moment's notice. The place was exactly what she expected except for the serving bots. This was a new one on her.  A smile crept across her face as she saw a red head breaking up a fight. The woman had brought the man to his knees pinning his arm behind his back. She took in a deep breath and made her way over to the bar. A handsome man behind the counter was wiping out a couple of glasses. "I'm looking for Dianna Remington," she sat her bag down against the bar. It didn't occur she had already seen the woman. Sam Winchester The blond waitress had caught Sam Winchester's eye.  He'd grinned somewhat shyly at her when she seemed to return his glance.  But it was Dean - not Sammy - who attracted the women like blow flies to a pile of shit.  Dean was at the bar right now with a redhead that Sam was pretty sure owned or managed Wallis' Place.  She was a doctor, too - ran the clinic for hunters.  She'd stitched both of the Winchester brothers up just the other day after they'd had a close encounter of the demony kind back in Lawrence.  The stitches in Sam's back itched in a place he couldn't reach.  But that was the story of his life - itches he couldn't scratch. Sam downed the shot of Scotch and relished the burn down his throat.  The redhead had said the next round was on the house.  Sammy kind of hoped the blonde would be the one to take his order, but as fate would have it, it was one of those creepy robot servers that came rolling up to him, blinking its R2D2 eyes at him.  They were kinda cute, but Sam didn't like them.  Not at all. Machines were supposed to be things like cars, cash registers, and guns.  They whir to life when you turn a key, punch a few buttons, or pull a trigger.  They do their jobs mindlessly when called upon, and then go back to being just things until they're needed again.  But these robots were like little beasties.  They seemed to think all on their own.  Sammy had seen way too many movies and read way too many science fiction novels where the machines become sentient - smarter than the people and then decide they no longer want to be slaves.  Those stories always end badly for the humans. Sam patted the little robot on the head and, without ordering, got up with his Miller Genuine Draft in hand and walked to the juke box, which was a nice, silent machine, obliviously waiting for some human to slip a quarter or three into its maw and punch some buttons, which Sammy intended to do.  The juke box didn't roll along on the floor or blink its mechanical eyes at you, which was as it should be. With one hand on the edge of the glass top of the machine, Sam read the available song titles.  A grin appeared on his face as he went down the list - this was pure, unadulterated hunter music -nothing newer than about 1995.  Rollings Stones, Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band, Springsteen, Lynard Skynard, Boston, and the Doobie Brothers, among others.  Sam Winchester slipped three quarters into the coin slot and punched the letter/numeral codes for Bob Seger's Mainstreet, Lynard Synard's Sweet Home Alabama, a song by Neil Young entitled The Needle and the Damage Done, and a couple of songs by Foreigner.  Sam pressed the start button and the the first song was cued up.  It was electronic though, none of this big collection of 45s inside the machine, with the mechanical hand that reached out, grabbed the vinyl record and placed it on a turntable.  Sam was old-fashioned in a lot of ways, but he didn't yearn for the dark ages of technology.  And he did like his computer and his cell phone.    Sam turned around and leaned into the jukebox as Seger started in on his lyrical lament: "I remember standing on the corner at midnight Trying to get my courage up There was this long lovely dancer in a little club downtown I loved to watch her do her stuff Through the long lonely nights she filled my sleep Her body softly swaying to that smoky beat Down on mainstreet." Sammy sipped on his beer as he gazed around the bar.  He liked this place. Rachel Winchester '... We're halfway there. Oh, living on a prayer! Take my hand, we'll make it, I swear. Oh, living on a prayer!' Rachel Mary Winchester's all-time favourite Bon Jovi classic blared through the speakers of the little banged-up car, that she had borrowed with no intention of returning, as she tore down the dark, empty road. Her hands, that bore many ugly pink scars, tapped the drum beat against the steering wheel as the blonde sang the lyrics at the top of her voice. She could never sing in tune, nor could she hold a note; not that she cared. There was nobody else in her car to tell her to shut up, or make any sarcastic comments that mentioned the words 'broken violin' or 'strangled cat'. There had once been a time, not too long ago, where the blonde Winchester sibling had been sat in the backseat of the infamous Impala, playing the air-drums as both she and her eldest brother, Dean Winchester, had sung along to that very song. It had become 'their' song, which was too bad for Sam and his chill-out Country and Classics. Thoughts of her two brothers brought a small tear to Rachel's bright blue eyes. They had become seperated a couple of days previously; which was a very rare thing to happen to the small Winchester family. Rachel had racked her brain every night trying to figure out exactly how that had happened. There had been a small, but victorious, hunt, quite a few shots of Whiskey and Tequila at a bar .. And the rest of the night was long forgotten. A blur, if you will. The memories of the following morning, however, would remain lodged within Rachel's brain for the rest of her life, or until she perfected an effective way to scrub her brain with a metal scouring pad without killing herself. He was unshaven, dirty and stank of sweat, bio and vomit. His snore seemed to rattle the single-paned window of his tiny, dark and miserable room. The sheets on his bed felt, and smelt, like they hadn't been washed in months. Regret and embarassment kicked in before her hangover. A quick glance under the sheet revealed the one thing that Rachel had been dreading; two very naked bodies. What on Earth had possessed her to go home with such a slob? What the Hell had been in those shots? She had hoped to God that both of her older brother's had been way to drunk, or occupied, to notice the state of her one-night-stand. She would never hear the end of it. If that morning hadn't been bad enough, as she had tried to quietly leave the apartment, Rachel had bumped into her one-night-stand's mother! The Walk Of Shame back to the motel had been mortifying. How much had she drunk the night before? 'Never leave the group.' It had been an unwritten, and unspoken, rule between her, Sam and Dean for whenever they celebrated a victorious hunt with a few shots. Had she actually told them where she was going? For the entire twenty-minute walk, the blonde Winchester's pale face had been uncharacteristically red. Had either of her brother's tried to contact her, at all? The second Rachel had pulled her cell out of her jacket pocket, she had regretted her actions. Almost twenty missed phone calls, and four voice-mail messages from Dean! "Nice catch, sis! I've seen better looking demons!" "Rach, Rach, Rach! This has gotta be a joke, right? I mean, look at him!" "Did you seriously go back to his place with him?! Bet you twenty bucks that the dude still lives with his mom!" Hearing her eldest brother's drunken slurring had brought a chuckle out of her. Dean always made a prat of himself whenever he drank Tequila. He could never have just the one, either. "I owe you twenty bucks." Rachel had muttered to herself, as she began to listen to the last of the voice-mails.. "Rachel, its Dean. I got you a cell for a reason. Me and Sammy are out of town for a while. The motel has been booked for another night. Make your way to a Hunter's bar called Wallis' Place in Missouri, Kansas. Call me when you get this." Family meant almost the entire world to Rachel Winchester; most probably around 97% of her world - chocolate made up the last 3%. There had once been a time where she would have done anything for her disfunctional family. She would have killed for her absent father, died for her two brothers, even dealt with a Cross-Road demon to bring her mother from her grave. How could they just leave and abandon her? Dean had not mentioned that they would be returning anytime soon to pick her up either. How did he honestly expect her to travel to Kansas without transport? As much as she loved, adored and worshipped her brothers, they could be a total pain in the ass. Okay, so the beaten-up banger she was driving was technically stolen. Rachel's criminal record was almost as long as her arm. Another conviction wasn't going to do much more damage. It was most probably abandoned anyway, judging by the state of it. Nobody had bothered to tend to her 'new' car for a long while. The interior fabric was ripped and growing mould, the brakes were a little loose and the handbrake was on its last legs. The little annoying, nagging voice at the back of her mind, known as Comman Sense, kept telling the blonde Winchester that it was probably a bad idea to drive so fast. However, Rachel had learnt from a young age that Comman Sense could be drowned out by blasting Bon Jovi through the car speakers at full volume.. 'We gotta hold on to what we've got It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not We got each other and that's a lot For love we'll give it a shot!' 888888888 Rachel really should have listened to that little annoying voice known as Common Sense. A thick cloud of grey smoke rose from the bonnet of the beaten-up car and the engine was chugging loudly as she pulled into the Wallis' Place parking lot. She had even blown the speakers a good five-miles back. At least she gave it's final legs a last good run. Her bright blue eyes were immediately drawn to Dean's black Impala, parked so awkwardly that it took over two parking spots. The temptation to drag a blade across the paintwork on the driver's side door was there; payback for leaving her behind. However, Rachel thought better of it. Dean would destroy her. A slight commotion grabbed a hold of the blonde Winchester's attention. Her eyes scanned the dark parking lot, until her gaze landed on a middle-aged couple, the woman looking highly embarrassed and the man looking slightly intoxicated. He stumbled over his feet as he obviously attempted to walk in a straight line. "Everytime we come here, Nick!" The woman almost screeched at her partner. Her walking was a little more steadier than his. "You have to humiliate me in front of everyone! We can never have a quiet drink when you're around!" Rachel couldn't help but put two and two together, and come up with the conclusion that this 'Nick' guy's actions had gotten the pair removed from the bar. Getting oneself kicked out of a Hunter's bar was humiliating. The snort of laughter that fell from her lips as she walked past the couple did not go unnoticed by Nick. "What the Hell do you think you're laughing at, missy?" He slurred, almost stumbling as he quickly turned around to glare at her. A small smirk graced the blonde Winchester's features as her blue eyes regarded the man swaying dangerously before her. Whatever did his partner see in him? He obviously had a drinking problem and a bad temper. Her parents had probably warned her about men like him; bet she regretted not listening to their warnings and taking their advice now. "Obivously, nothing much." Rachel gently flicked her long blonde hair across her shoulder casually. "Aren't you a little young to even think about going to bars?" Nick scowled, hesitantly taking a very wobbly step towards the blonde. She could smell the alcohol on his breath. A mixture, a cocktail maybe? Rachel screwed up her facial features a little, turning her head ever so slightly in a vain attempt to get away from the fowl, overbearing stench. "Why don't you turn that fine ass of yours around, and go home to play with your dolls, little girl." The urge to beat Nick to a bloody pulp fell over Rachel. She could feel her fingers itching to grasp the handle of the recently sharpened blade she kept hidden inside her jacket. Had he seriously been checking her out, in front of his partner? "The guys in there are too butch for you, sweetcheeks. They'll tear you apart." Was he mocking her? Sure, she was short - only five-foot two - and she did have somewhat of a babyface, but that meant nothing. Rachel knew within herself that she was a good Hunter. Her brothers and those whom she allowed close to her knew that as well. She played by the rules, only breaking them when the situation allowed for it. The drunken man standing in front of her obviously thought he was the Bees-Knees, the hunter among hunters. The blonde Winchester had a pretty good feeling that she had seen and killed the monsters that he begged his wife to check under the bed for every night. It was men like him who gave hunters a bad reputation. Instead of beating the guy into a coma, the blonde Winchester smiled a playful, yet polite smile at Nick, baring her white teeth as she did. "I'll be sure to keep that in mind, Nick." She spoke smartly, with a little acid in her voice, as she turned to head into the building, turning her back on the couple and leaving them behind in the darkness of the parking lot. The atmosphere as she entered the building was different to the other hunter bars Rachel had graced with her presence. The customers seemed to be a lot happier, a lot more relaxed and a lot more talkative. Nobody seemed huddled in a dark corner, nursing a double Whiskey or Scotch or giving anyone that entered the bar a look that made that person feel as welcome as a bull in a China shop. Every customer seemed to be merry, slightly intoxicated but harmless. No wonder Dean had told her to come here; the bar was amazing! Rachel didn't feel out of place either. Unlike many of the other hunter bars, there were a few female punters sitting at tables with their male spouses, friends and hunting buddies. The presence of the bots did confuse the blonde Winchester sibling a little. What were their purpose here? They looked too perfect to have been a quick knock-up invention of an elderly hunter. Were they, waiting on the customers? Rachel's blue eyes scanned every face she could see. Being shorter than the average person her age, she did have to stand on her toes to get a better view. She seemed to be the youngest person in the building, not that it phased her. Her dress code was possibly a little different than everyone else's; wearing a pair or leather trousers under knee-high boots and a plain dark navy T-Shirt with a V-neck whilst everyone else seemed to be wearing their hunting jeans and checkered shirts did make her feel a little odd. It shocked her a little that nobody paid attention to her attire. She recieved plenty of friendly smiles instead. A relaxed smile graced Rachel's lips as she started to feel a little more at ease within the building and its occupants. Casually, the blonde wove her way through the heaving crowd towards the bar, deciding that it was probably rude to search for her older brothers without buying a drink or two first. After all, she could use a stiff drink after the last couple of days. Sarah Nate smiled at the pretty brunette and pointed to the other end of the bar where Dianna sat with Dean talking about the case. Nate was a thorough man though. Since the newcomer had asked for his boss by name, Nate decided to point her out to Dianna as well. He slid a fresh bottle of Crown Royal to her and she looked up at him as she caught it. He pointed to the young woman in front of him. Dianna nodded and gestured at the girl to join her. She grabbed her backpack and walked down the length of the bar. Dianna held out her right hand. "I'm Dianna Remington. What can I do for you?" On close inspection the pretty young woman seemed careworn. She had a familiar haunted look in her eyes. Dianna recognized it because she had felt the burn out herself. This woman was seeking a refuge of sorts. Dianna had allowed hunters to spend a night on a clinic bed when they needed to, but in this case she suspected that wouldn't do. He was a man after her own heart. She could use a drink right about now. The last several hours on the road had been long ones. They had given her time to think.  There was something about Nate's dark brown eyes that caused her to hesitate. It simply just caught her attention. "Thanks," she flipped her hair back out of her face and slung her back pack over her shoulder. Despite her fatigue she still managed to flash him a flirtatious smile before heading down the bar to meet the red head. "Sarah Walker," she reached out shaking the woman's hand. The back pack fell to the floor next the bar stool. "I was looking for a job heard you might be hiring. I waited a few tables and mixed a few drinks in my day," she took a seat across from Dianna. Then began to pour both of them a drink. She grabbed hers and downed it in one shot, "look the thing is I just need off the road a little while but I don't want to be out of the loop. You know what I mean." She motioned towards all the people throughout the room. They both knew what she meant. A bar full of hunters was a den full of information. They all discussed the cases they were on when they were passing through. There was nothing to hide here, no false pretenses. Everyone here knew about the supernatural and hunting. They all knew what it was like to work a case or lose a loved one.  She ran her fingers through her hair. "I can even sweep, mop, and even bounce a few surlies. There is nothing you can throw at me I can't handle," she ran her finger tip along her. The things she had seen and done in her line of work had been rough. There was nothing that could occur at the bar that would surprise her. She glanced down the bar at Nate curious what his story was. Perhaps she could learn more about him if she got to hang around, but for now she turned her focus back to Dianna awaiting her decision. 

THIS BLOG AND THE PAGE IT WAS ON WAS HACKED AND DELETED.  BUT DIANNA HAD EVERYTHING BACKED UP, SO HERE (AND IN THE FOLLOWING POSTS) ARE THE FIRST 38,750 WORDS OF THE STORY.  IT THEN CONTINUES IN THE BLOG COMMENTS, READING TOP TO BOTTOM.  THE STORY CONTINUES IN THE MAD WORLD PART 2 BLOG. Faith The case in Coldwater had drawn to a close. The next one would be waiting just around the corner. The work of a hunter was never ending.  There was always something waiting in the wings. Evil threatening the lives of the innocent. In the morning they would begin to look searching for signs of the unordinary, tonight though was time for a bit of down time to think about something other than monsters. It was a time for personal time. The group was divided. Rachel had gone out for the night. They assumed to blow off a little steam. This line of work could be hard. Sam had settled into his room alone claiming to be tired.  There was more to it than that. He was still hurting from a recent case. He had met a phenomenal woman who had changed his world. There was a unique bond between the two of them, but she was gone now having to return home. It felt he was in mourning afraid he never see her again.  A part of him was missing now but it wasn't something he could explain to the others.  He had kept these emotions to himself. Dean and Faith were in their hotel room trying to unwind.  The couple had settled in watching a Jack Nicholson movie. Although it was one of his favorites, it was really just an excuse to cuddle up together. Faith lay there with her head on his shoulder staring at the screen his arms wrapped around her, her body draped over his.  There was such comfort there in his arms she was afraid that she was about to doze off.  "Beer. Babe you want one," she popped up slipping off the bed to make her way over to the mini fridge. The door swung open only to reveal that it was devoid of contents.  She looked back at him with a frown on her face. "There is a station across the street. I'll go grab us a six pack be back before he gets his axe on," a smiling gracing her lips once more as she nodded towards the tv. "Or we could just ditch the flick. I could give you a real show, " she tugged her boots on. She glanced up at him with a raised eyebrow and a playful smile on her lips. Grabbing her jacket she was out the door. The trip to the store would give her a chance to wake up. She was tired but it was rare anymore they got any time alone together. The sky over head was beginning to dim, night was about to fall. She wandered down the walk way of the hotel towards the parking lot. The lights of the gas station began to flicker on lighting up in the distance. She reached in her pocket pulling out her cigarettes deciding to get a quick smoke in. Dean didn't care for it in the hotel room. A strange red headed woman walked past her. The chick's arm slammed in to hers, causing her to scowl. "Watch it," she shot a glance behind her at the woman walking towards the hotel.    Dianna Remington "Sorry..." Dianna mumbled distractedly. She still wasn't sure why she had agreed to come this far north. It wasn't like there weren't plenty of monsters in need of killing in her hometown, Kansas City. But it was a family thing. Her young cousin had called her out of the blue and asked her to come to Maine. There were some odd goings on she had told Dianna. By the time Dianna finally finished the case she was on and made it up to Coldwater the case had apparently been resolved by other hunters. Dianna was irritated at the thought of having come so far for nothing, but she was also glad to see a case resolved, as all hunters always were. Dianna had begged off from staying with her cousin. It wasn't due to any estrangement between the two women, but rather it was because Dianna was afraid she might bring monsters or demons to her family, and she refused to take the chance. So she had rented a room in a small cheap motel just outside of town. She was distracted by her thoughts as she made her way back to the tiny motel room. Her sister, Sami, was holding down the fort back home at Wallis' Place. It was unusual for Dianna to track a case alone. She had always insisted on the safety of pairs when hunting. She was a master in 12 martial art disclipines though and was confident in her abilities to take care of herself. There didn't seem to be anything left to investigate though, so she planned on heading out early to begin the drive back home. Dianna shifted the small bag that she held to her left hand as she walked past her Mustang. Three spaces down sat a classic Impala. She had admired the vehicle on her way to the convenience store across the way. The young woman with whom she had bumped arms was making her way to that store it seemed. She unlocked the door to room 103 and let herself in. She pulled a sixpack from the bag and dropped to the center of the bed with a weary sigh. She popped the tab on the first beer and pointed the remote control at the old tv across the room. Dianna flipped open her cell phone and dialed Sami's number Her sister answered almost immediately. "Hey, Sami. How's everything there?" Dianna smiled when Sami reassured that all was well at home then inquired about the case. "Nothing happened with the case. It was all over when I got here. Apparently some other hunters got an earlier alert. I'm heading home tomorrow morning. All right. See you when I get there." Sami disconnected and Dianna dropped her cell on the nightstand. Dianna finished her first beer in three long pulls and opened a second one then settled back to watch the7 o'clock news. The news item that got her attention and made her hand freeze on it's journey to her mouth. It was an oddity for sure. It seemed that people's pets were disappearing en masse in a particular neighborhood in the town next door. The anchorman stated that authorities believed the pets had been victims of animal attacks. Dianna would have nodded and ignored it but for one detail. The neighborhood also housed a small psychiatric hospital. She had seen too many cases spawn from such institutions, so she was unwilling to dismiss it without first investigating. Dianna dialed Sami's number once again. "I take it all back. I don't think I'm coming home tomorrow after all. In fact why don't you have Nate hold down the fort and come join me here." Dianna gave Sami the motel's address and her room number. Then she finished two more beers and went to sleep with a nice little buzz. Briana "The worms crawl in the worms crawl out" the little girl sang and laughed "they crawl up your stomach and out your mouth."  She toyed with the tail on her imaginary cat giggled again and went running off down the hallway, ducking behind open doors.  "Ready or not here I come!"   It was a game she played every night at exactly 8:03 pm in the lower level of the hospital, where it was believed to have been the exact time and place the young girl died.  Briana hiked her drab pale yellow night dress above her knees and scurried about looking for her best friend Pierre.  They had been slaying ugly fire breathing dragons earlier that day.  Princess Sunshine aka Briana as she was known at that time of the mornings dubbed her knight in shining armor, Sir Pierre as the bravest boy in all the land.  "Who are you?" the girl stopped suddenly.  "Come out!  Come out where ever you are, we have newcomer Pierre!" Bri jumped up and down squealing with excitement "we have a new friend!" Briana seemed to rule the roost of the idle wanderers in the hospital.  The ones that were stuck in this dimension, that couldn't get out and go on to the next level.  "You missed your train!" the young messy haired brunette gave her a Shirley Temple-esque pouty smile. "My puppy, have you seen my puppy?"  A sad freckled filled face with big blue eyes looked up at her "I've lost my puppy and can't go anywhere without him."  Briana's head tilted oddly to the side "A little cocker spaniel with hair the color of yours?  NO!"  She giggled just as oddly and her head turned sharply.  "Have not seen him."  She rather smugly pushed her nose into the air and walked past the girl eyeing her pink frilly dress and matching ballet style shoes.   Bri slipped her thumbnail between her teeth when she saw Pierre peeking from behind a heavy oaken door.  "Don't be shy Pierre!  This is our new friend, her name will be Annie."     Sir Pierre wandered sheepishly to the center of the room, his fingers pushed deep inside the pockets of his nickers.  "Oh it's a good name you've picked, nice to meet you Annie."   Although he was very tall and lanky, towering over the girls, his voice was boyish.  He would never disagree with Briana, or her personalities, he was as passive as they come.  "She likes your dress" his smile curved upward, only on the left side.  Pierre pulled his hand from his pocket and touched over the white lace on Annie's sleeve. "It's time to go they're coming" she announced abruptly, with a look of fear in her eyes, the playfulness always disappeared at this time.  Pierre took Annie away and Briana faded into an interior wall and watched.  It was 9pm, a patient was being wheeled on a gurney into the scary room.  Bri stepped quietly, not that her footsteps could be heard; she was a ghost but didn't quite understand what had happened to her.  Her fingertips rest against the small sill of the window to the door of the room, using them as leverage to hold herself in position.  It was the familiar girl, the one she could hear. Claudia Claudia had been fixated on the exterior of a tall, somewhat dilapidated building across the street from where she watching next to an oak tree. She pulled down the pair of binoculars she was using to spy on the hospital. This wasn't the first place that she wanted to be and when Mrs. Frederick insisted that Claudia be sent on this solo mission she was hoping that Artie would have put his foot down and said 'no. not going to happen'. Unfortunately it didn't happen despite Artie's deep look of sympathy. It became quite clear why the Regents wanted Claudia to come here. Her history often spoke for itself. Growing up, Claudia didn't have the easiest life. She lost her parents at an early age so for quite a few years it was just her and her older brother who took her under his care. However it took a turn for the worst when Joshua Donovan, Claudia's 19 year old brother began experimenting with teleportation. The experiment went wrong and for a good 8 years Joshua got stuck inbetween dimensions. Due to Claudia losing her guardian she went into foster homes for the rest of her childhood and then after seeing images of Joshua coming to her for the first time since the incident, Claudia had checked herself into a psychiatric hospital because she thought she was going crazy. During that time she swore to herself to track down Artie Nielson, the man responsible for the teleportation experiment going wrong to help her save her brother. This resulted in her hacking into the mainframe of the Warehouse where she now works. After breaking in she got Artie to help her, they saved Joshua via artifact and in order to stay alive Claudia agreed to work at the top-secret organization because she knew too much to remain a civilian. As a much beloved member of the Warehouse team, she became the tech geek for the group. She could hack into anything and even invent different items that became really useful. Handcuffs that sent out a 20,000 volt shock to whomever wore them, a Tesla Grenade and mini-Tesla. These items became useful towards anyone that became a problem. It would electrocute them and they would be passed out for a few minutes. These were just a couple of items that Claudia packed with her when she agreed to this mission. The problem is she had no idea who she was supposed to go talk to regarding her being there. Pulling her laptop out of her bag, (thank god for wireless internet) she turned it on and began pushing several buttons leading her into the main webpage of the psychiatric hospital she was watching from afar. She clicked a few more buttons to see if there was a way to shut down the security cameras so that breaking in would be easier. There were alot of things she wouldn't be able to do until she got inside the hospital. An encrypted screen popped up and then Claudia smirked, trying a few different passwords until she broke the code. "Silly little hospital people. You are all the same. And once again, I win." She clicked on the spot of the webpage that said 'disengage security system'. She heard a winding down sound come from the hospital itself. "And we're in. Now it's time for stealth mode." She closed her laptop, putting it back inside the bag before zipping it up and stayed low to the ground as she approached the hospital. Still uncertain of how to deal with this place, usually if it didn't involve locating an artifact, Claudia didn't know what to do, she figured that she would wing it and get as much information out of the hospital, their files, etc. without getting caught. Sam Winchester "Meep! Meep!"  The indefatigable, perky, and always oblivious roadrunner zips down a dusty Southwestern dirt road on its way to some destination known only to its pea-sized bird brain.  Meanwhile, Wily Coyote lies in wait up the road, just beyond a sharp bend where, with a murderous gleam in his eye and a smirk overlaying his toothy grin, he has ingeniously strung piano wire across the road at Roadrunner neck level.  This will finally be the day, the day that will bring Coyote's long spell of impossibly horrendous luck to a final and absolute end.  He waits behind a scraggly creosote bush, its few nearly leafless branches providing just barely enough cover to conceal him from the keen vision of his feathered prey.  A rapidly-approaching trail of dust announces the imminent beheading of Mr. Roadrunner.  Wily Coyote rubs his paws together and licks his canines in predatory anticipation. Then in the blink of an eye, Roadrunner appears around the bend in the road, zips straight for the piano wire and...dips his head at the last moment and accelerates into the desert afternoon with a defiant and victorious "Meep! Meep!" Coyote looks at the camera, his face a study in incontrovertible defeat and despair.  Then a black Hummer rounds that blind corner, that bend in the road.  The Hummer plows right through the piano wire, which snaps where its attached to a mesquite on the opposite side of the road from the coyote.  After the vehicle passes, the piano wire whips back across the road, wraps around Coyote's neck, and then flings him into the center of the road where he is squashed flat by a Beer truck.  Sam reached for another Genuine Draft from the cooler next to the motel bed upon which he was sprawled, wearing nothing but a pair of dancing Snoopy boxer shorts (don't ask) and watching cartoons on the old-style 19-inch television perched atop a dresser opposite the bed.  He put another quarter in the Magic Fingers coin box still hoping those sorcerous mechanical fingers would massage the blues away.  Sam Winchester was in a funk.  He commiserated with Wily Coyote.  So close, ladies and gentlemen, but no cigar.  It took him back to when he, Dean, and Rachel were kids.  The carnival had come to Lawrence.  This wasn't Barnum and Bailey, boys and girls.  This was one of those carnivals that sets up in about 6 hours with five trucks and a dozen shifty carnies on some vacant lot on the outskirts of town.  The bearded lady, Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, a rusted Merry-Go-Round, stale popcorn, and cotton candy.  But there was this booth where you toss these little rubber rings at coke bottles.  For 50 cents you get 5 rings, and if you can toss three of them so they slip over the neck of the bottle, you win these big stuffed animals.  There was a Tyrannosaurus rex that was so rad!  Sammy didn't know whether he'd keep it or maybe give it to Rachel, but he knew he wanted it, and it looked so easy.  He'd spent 10 dollars of his allowance - every cent he had on him - and the only thing he won was a goldfish in a bag.  He never got more than two of the rings over the neck of the bottles.  And what the freakin hell was he supposed to do with a goldfish? Drinking beer while being Magic Fingered and watching Roadrunner cartoons was a big let down from flying on the back of a dragon.  They'd resolved things in Hobart and gotten Dracora back home, where she needed to be.  Everybody needs a home, right?  Sam glanced around his surroundings, which was about as much home as he'd seen in 10 years.  He finished his beer and reached for another.  The bond he and Dracora had forged was everlasting and acutely potent, and even now he could sense her in that other world.  She was happy and fulfilled there, which was as it should be.  Sam was gladdened for her; truly he was.  But at the same time, he missed her terribly.  So he watched as the hapless Coyote got blown up, buried in his own pitfall trap, squashed by a boulder, blasted by a misfiring shotgun, and launched to the moon on an Acme rocket that he was supposed to ride to keep pace with the Roadrunner.  Why did Sam watch these mindless, ridiculous cartoons?  Because he couldn't muster the motivation to do anything else.   Dracora Dracora came awake with a definitive snort. For one moment she thought she was once again in her secure little cavern above the forest. Then reality and the present day came flooding back to her. She was many leagues from that cavern. She heard no naiads here, just the gentle rumbling of her mate, Graco, as he slept. They were in the main sleeping cavern of the royal cavern network. Unlike humans, dragons didn't live in structures built from materials pulled from Father Earth's crust. They utilized what was already provided. The draconic royal grounds covered 120 sqaure leagues of mountainous caverns, forests and glades. Their Majesties, Queen Dracora and King Graco inhabited the roomiest corner of the larger network. Others of the royal household inhabited the rest. It was Dracora's childhood home in fact. Her husband now occupied the seat her father had been murdered for. She was the primary monarch though. Graco was of the alternate royal line, and though he was King and had the powers of his station, Dracora ruled. It was her royal line that held the throne. When the pair clutched, the two royal lines would become forever one, changing a tradition as old as their race. Everything seemed peaceful, and Dracora was at first unsure of what it was that woke her. Then she felt it. Her bond companion, Sam Winchester, calling to her from his own world. She listened and realized that she was hearing his thoughts, experiencing his lonliness from across the boundaries of their two worlds. He was not consciously calling to her. There was a portal in the small forest glade next to her old cavern keeping both worlds connected. It was what allowed her to hear him from such a distance. She had felt Sam's melancholy before. It was part of his nature. But this was different, more intense. It felt more like grief, as if Sam somehow believed that their bond was in danger. Dracora knew that she must respond. Dracora was in her red aspect. She had adjusted to sleeping in this form because Graco liked to wind tails. For such a fierce creature he was very affectionate. Dracora teased him about it, but she liked his propensity to cuddle in the dragon manner. She tapped the tips of their wound tails on the floor. Graco snorted and slipped back into his slumber. Dracora rumbled in light laughter. She pounded their tails a bit harder, and Graco came fully awake with a start. "Wha...????" He shook his head sending hot embers scattering across the stone floor. Dracora's rumbling deepened into out right merry laughter. Graco tilted his head at her. "You think that's funny, do you?" Dracora could only nod. A few embers flew from her own snout, and Graco laughed back at her. "What is it that you need, My Queen?" "It is not my need that requires attendance, My Love. It is my bond companion's need. I must go to him." Graco sighed. "You have an appointment with the human King today, Dracora. This new alliance is still very delicate. It must be nurtured." "Sammy helped create this new alliance. The human king must be made to understand that the strength of that bond goes beyond the power of even the greatest rulers." Dracora shimmered into her moon aspect and gazed into her mate's fiery eyes. "And besides that, Graco My Love, You are the King, are you not? If the human becomes offended because he deals with the King rather than the Queen then he is not ready for a draconic alliance." She smiled knowingly. "Just point out to him that what I do is demonstrate the lengths we dragons are willing to go to protect our human friends." Graco shrugged causing his scales to ripple down his body. "Do I tell him why you are absent?" "Of course. We must start this new relationship with the humans on solid ground, and that requires honesty. I suspect the human monarch can and will understand why I must do what I do. He is very wise for someone less than half a century old." The human King was in fact 48 years old. Dracora herself was just 100 years old and was considered among her people to be a very young adult. She had not even had her first clutch yet. Graco shimmered into his human aspect. It was the only way he could speak and understand the human language. Graco had adopted the visage of her bond companion for his human aspect, and seeing Sam renewed Dracora's urgency. Dracora smiled and assumed her own human form. She reached up to gently stroke her husband's cheek. "You are a kind and just King, Graco. There is no one better suited to represent dragon kin. My faith in you is profound. I must go to Sam. I will return when I can." Dracora sat in the small glade beneath her old cavern. The naiads sang happily. Their numbers were increasing now that the legions of minor demons who had insisted on feasting on them had been tricked by Dracora into following a high level demon named Crowley into subserviance to the demon from Sam's world. The portal was only a few feet in front of her. It was nightime on Sam's world. She could see from the gray horizon that the sun had just set. She assumed her black smoker aspect and watched until the gray line disappeared and a velvet black settled over the sky broken by the bright twinkling of the stars around his world. Then she launched herself through. She blended into the night becoming virtually invisible if you didn't notice the lack of stars where her body had blacked them out. This time was much different than the last time she had come through such a portal. She had been in her frost form then, and she had been severely injured and unable to transform. Sam had found her stricken form where she lay in what turned out to be a corn field in a place called Hobart. Their bond had happened accidentally, but had become stronger than any previous dragon/human bond. This time she came through the portal with her health and faculties intact. She came to answer the call of her bond companion. His mind touched hers and their connection amplified and clarified. Sam could not help but know that she was back in his world. She nudged his location from his surprised mind and turned to fly off in his direction. Barely one hour later she found him in one of the small human domociles that he had called a motel. She transformed to human as she landed before the door that was now the only thing separating her from her bond companion. "I hear your call even when you do not mean to call, Bond Companion. I am here." she projected into his mind. Then she knocked lightly on the door as was the human custom and waited for Sam to open his door. Rachel Winchester Every hunter had a secret. Something that they kept very close to their chests, guarded and locked away at all times. Sometimes, that secret was a love of baking. Or a love of reading old poetry. Or a love of watching trashy TV shows. Those loves, their secrets, were the thin piece of string that prevented a hunter from going mad. Hunters could not be bad-asses all the time. Despite their knowledge of demonology, spells and all things weird, they were still human. They needed an outlet, a chance to be normal every once in a while. Rachel Mary Winchester's secret, was her passion for dancing. Latin, to be exact. The way that the dancers moved together, so passionately in time with the guitars and the percussion instruments thrilled her to the very core. It was, quite possibly, the only dance that existed where a male and female could get hot and heavy without, well, getting hot and heavy. Each dance held that spark of danger that the twenty-two year old blonde craved on a daily basis. Each dance sizzled with romance and lust and sexual energy. This secret was a part of the softer side of Rachel that nobody knew about, not even her beloved brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester. This secret was her only chance of escaping the world she lived in, even if it were just for a couple of hours. Another secret that she kept, wasn't much of a secret - nor had it been for a few months. Her rather large and rounded stomach was as plain to see as was the light of day. At seven-months pregnant, Rachel was confined to the research department of the job. That had been the only compromise that both of her older brothers had been willing to make, if she were planning on continuing to tag along with them. There was no chance they were willing to risk the life of their unborn niece or nephew, not to mention that the very sight of their younger sister waddling with a very full belly never failed to send both brothers into fits of hysterics. But, they had to hand it to her, Rachel settled into her new role quicker than what they would have ever given her credit for. The blonde acted as Mission Control. She coordinated her brother's movements, found new information with regards to whatever they were hunting, did those all-important phone verifications and provided a point-of-call with all other hunters in the area, not to mention the first-aid she gave whenever either Sam or Dean returned to her injured. Basically, whatever her brothers needed, she made sure they got by whatever means necessary. Rachel felt just as part of each and every hunt as she would have done if she had been pounding the pavements with her brothers. Tonight, though, was her first night off in a good month or so. It felt like such a relief to be able to finally leave the motel where she, her brothers and Faith were staying. The blonde wore a thin materialed cream skirt which snuggly fit against her swollen stomach and a black V-neck vest. On her feet, she wore a pair of plain brown leather roman-style sandals, as her ankles had swollen a little too much to even dare try and pull on her usual boots. Her blonde hair bounced in soft curls around her shoulders with every step she took down the pavement. Her white gold crucifix that Castiel had given to her the Christmas just passed hung around her neck. It felt wonderful just to feel fresh air whispering against her bare arms. The night was cold, but thanks to her increased body temperature, Rachel did not feel the need to wear a jacket. The club was meant to be the hottest new venue for Latin dance in the city. It had recieved many brilliant reviews in it's opening month, the blonde Winchester simply had to check it out and see what the hype was about for herself. Maybe, she should have checked to see if Sam wanted to accompany her, just to get him out of his motel room for a couple of hours. It would have been nice to see a smile on his face, rather than the constant broody-scowl that seemed to be permemanty glued to his features these days. There was no point in asking either Dean or Faith if they wanted to go with her to check out the venue. The two were most probably making with the happy, and would snap the neck of anyone who dared to disturb them. A shuddering thought entered Rachel's mind, as she flipped out her I.D for the club bouncer to inspect, who had given her a rather dirty look when she had stepped up to him - obviously disgusted with the fact that a young and heavily pregnant woman wanted to go out clubbing, when she should be at home getting ready for the new arrival. Granted, she would not be able to get up and dance, but to sit at the back of the club drinking bottle after bottle of sparkling mineral water and muching on Jalopeno Pretzels as she watched the dancers would suit her just fine. Her eldest brother was never one from learning from his sibling's mistakes. One pair of tiny feet would be hard enough to deal with, let alone another pair. She had given both of her brothers 'that talk' after the shock of discovering her pregnancy had taken it's course. Okay, sure, perhaps buying Dean a year's supply worth of condoms for his birthday hadn't gone down so well, but he would thank her when that terrifying test came back negative. Whipping out her cell phone, her nimble fingers went to work pressing at the keys. Rachel had never liked texting, it was so inpersonal and boring, but sometimes it was necessary. 'Dean, whatever you do tonight, remember, it is better to be safe than sorry! R xx' Faith Faith tugged the door to the gas station open walking straight past the front counter. She was a woman with a mission taking a straight path to the back of the back of the store. The store wasn't very big but it had quiet a collection of beer in its coolers. It was probably the most popular good in the place. She stood there evaluating her options as if the decision really mattered. Most of the time beer was beer with her. She grabbed a six pack out of the fridge and headed up front plopping them down in front of a freckled face young man at the register. She cocked her head looking past him at the cigarettes. Might as well get another pack of those while she was out. "Pack of marlboro lights," she nodded to the carton. The greasy haired man flashed her a cocky grin and began to attempt to strike up a conversation with her. "You these things are bad for you," he place them down in front of her. "Yeah I heard they kill you. You only live once," she stuck them in her front pocket then went digging through the back ones for the cash. He started to go into a round of what was a pretty girl doing out by herself? Why was she buying all that beer? Blah blah blah. She looked him over. He wasn't really a bad looking guy. He could spend a bit more time tending to his appearance straightening his clothes and putting less of that gel in his hair. Normally she would have taken the opportunity to flirt or taken the next level scratch an itch. Relationships were for suckers. All men did were use you. It was best not to be on the receiving end of heartbreak. Get in get out. It wasn't like anyone had ever gotten her before. This was before Dean came into her life.  Someone understood her for once. He was like her in many ways. This understanding meant something to her. There was a bond there. She had faith in him opening up for the first time in over a decade with the believe he would never break her heart. "Save it man nice try though," she shook her head tossing the case under her arm as she headed out of the store. It was time for one last smoke before going back to the hotel room. The afternoon breeze was nice. She sat the beverages down on a bench while right outside the establishment's doors while she took the time to light up. As she exhaled blowing out a puff of smoke she stared up towards their hotel room. She knitted her brow together couldn't really see it from here.  She wondered if he had fallen asleep up there. She had already been gone longer than she intended. Sam Winchester His fourth Genuine Draft and it wasn't even noon yet.  Sam had come to the realization that the Roadrunner-Wiley Coyote cartoons were like lead weights as his mood darkened and circled the toilet bowl.  He needed some flippers.  Either that or some scuba gear.  Or maybe it was time to change the station.  He opted for the latter.  With the remote pointed at the TV, he began surfing through the gazillion and one stations.  Game shows, reality TV, paid advertisements, and long dead TV series.  Hadn't Springsteen done a song - '57 Channels and There's Nothin' On'?  That was the case here, except it was more like 250 channels with nothin' on.  His surfing came to a stop - at least for the moment - on a movie where bikini-clad girls with abnormally large bosoms were being eaten alive by swarms of particularly toothy piranhas.  This was all happening in some sun-drenched bay crowded with legions of party boats.  The shipside girls and their boyfriends were trying to pull the victims and would-be victims from the water, but the mischievous fish were too fast for them.  Usually they just pulled screaming, legless torsos from the increasingly red and turbid waters.  Cool. Then someone knocked on the door of Sammy's mind.  Someone was reaching into that toilet bowl to pull him out before he spun like a dead goldfish down, down, down into the inky and smelly blackness of the sewers.  Where there were probably legions of hungry piranha awaiting his hapless arrival. It was Dracora!  She knew he was missing her!  She was coming!  Flying across New England right now!  Sam bolted from the bed.  He couldn't let her see him like this.  The room looked like a whirling dervish had been hired as a maid.  Sam looked in the mirror and saw bloodshot eyes, mussed hair, and those Snoopy boxer shorts.  He smelled, too.  Gathering his resolve, Sam headed for the shower.  Half an hour later, his mind still acutely aware of Dracora's imminent arrival, he was dressed, hair combed, eye drops in to mitigate the effects of four beers, and he started in on making the room presentable, even if it meant shoving empty beer bottles, an empty pizza box, and dirty underwear under the bed. When the knock finally came on the motel room door, Sam was more or less ready for his bond companion.  That dragon scale under the skin of his hand was humming with warmth - something he hadn't experienced since Dracora disappeared through the portal back in Hobart.  He swung open the door and there she was.  Although it had only been three weeks, he was positively thrilled to see her.  She was even more beautiful than he had remembered her, if that was at all possible.  "Dracora, you are radiant!  Dazzling.  Returning to your home world has been good for you.  That is plain to see."  Sammy's return to his comparatively mundane life of motel rooms and greasy diners, punctuated by the occasional monster, had not had the same effect on him.  And that was plain to see, as well.  Dean Winchester Dean stretched out on the bed and entwined his fingers behind his head. Faith had taken off to get more beer. "Hurry back." He called to her as she left. "You don't wanna miss the best part." They rarely took down time from hunting. Dean was fond of telling everyone to remember  that monsters don't take down time. But this time they all needed it, and Dean had no problem saying so. Sammy was alone in the room next door despondent over Dracora's absence. Dracora was busy putting her kingdom back in order. The battle for her throne had been fierce, and experiencing a world filled with dragons had been absolutely amazing for all of them. But it had been hard for Sammy to come home in spite of the portal connecting the two worlds. Dean had made an empathic bond to Dracora, and he was willing to admit that he missed the dragon woman. But Sammy's bond went so much deeper. With the exception of Sam's grief for the loss of his beloved Jessica, Dean had never seen his brother so lonely for someone. It was so profound that it scared Dean a bit. He had been concerned from the instant the bond had been forged between Sammy and Dracora. He had been afraid that something like this might happen when Dracora returned to her own home. But he didn't know what to do to fix it for Sammy. On the screen Nicholson menaced Talia Shire on the broad winding hotel stairway. "You killed me you Bitch!" Nicholson snarled as he ascended the stairs toward her. Dean sighed. There dammit. She had missed the best part after all. If she missed Redrum he was shutting the thing  off and making her give him the better show she had offered earlier. But he might do that anyway. He grinned at the thought. What the hell was keeping her anyway? Dean rose from the bed and went to open the door and gaze out into the quiet parking lot. He didn't see Faith. In fact all he saw was the only other car in the parking lot. Several spaces over from his Impala sat a dark blue '66 Mustang. The Mustang looked as well cared for as his own Impala. If he got the chance he intended to tell the owner just that. The guy probably liked classic rock too. The door of the convenience store across the street opened, and Dean thought he saw Faith emerge. He had just returned to the bed when he felt a sudden sensation of Dracora near him. She wasn't of course. He went to splash some water on his face. Once again when he sat down he felt her essence nearby. He finally gave up trying to shake the feeling and closed his eyes. She was still there. In fact the feeling was getting stronger. She had to be back in this world. He wondered if she felt as concerned over Sammy as he did, and the decided that she must because he was now sure that she waited just outside Sam's door. Dean wasted no time exiting his own room and turning to Sam's. And there she was, patiently waiting for Sammy's door to open. Dean grinned broadly and swooped her off of her feet in a giant bear hug. It was an uncharacteristically emotional outburst for Dean, and he was immediately embarrassed over his lapse. He set her down gently. Dracora smiled warmly at him. "It is good to see you too, Dean." The door in front of them cracked open and Sam's smiling face poked itself outside.

Please submit all auditions as messages.1. What role are you auditioning for?2. How long have you roleplayed?3. Do you finish what you start? Are you committed?4. Do you para/multipara?5. Do you work well with others?Please submit a small sample of your work with questionnaire.

Buffy/Angel   Xander Harris Anya Jenkins Glory Winifred Burkle Charles Gunn  Supernatural     Mary Winchester John Winchester Bobby Singer Castiel Gabriel Lucifer Crowley Ellen Harvelle Jo Harvelle TrueBlood     Alcide Herveaux Sam Merlotte Jessica Hamby Tara Thornton Jason Stackhouse Andy Bellefleur Terry Bellefleur Hoyt Fortenberry Holly Cleary Rene Lenier Warlow Jesus Velasquez Godric Sophie-Anne Leclerq Arlene Fowler Nora Gainesborough Crystal Norris    

So just who is and what is Into the Night?  We are a role playing community dedicated to the creation of long and involved, multi-character blog stories in the Angel/Buffyverse, Supernaturalverse, and the True Bloodverse.  Some of our role players also have story lines in comments or messages, but that is their own personal role play and is neither considered a part of the RPC activities, nor is such role play governed by the rules of the RPC (see https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000137095). Into the Night has been in its current form since early 2010.  We started on MySpace, then migrated to Sitemodel, and finally to Roleplayer.me.  The RPC was created by Katarina Pratt, Spike, and Jade.  Kat and Spike are the current co-owners of the site.  Jade left the group in 2012.  However, Into the Night has roots going back to early 2009 when a very talented group of role players came together on MySpace to create blog stories in the Angelverse.  Lorin is the only refugee from those early days.  You can ask him about them, if you are interested.  The RPC consists of this home page and four blog story pages: Angel/Buffy Stories: https://www.roleplayer.me/view_profile.php?member_id=189168 Into the Night Tales: https://www.roleplayer.me/view_profile.php?member_id=189172 Supernatural Stories: https://www.roleplayer.me/view_profile.php?member_id=390176 Crossover Stories: https://www.roleplayer.me/view_profile.php?member_id=390242 The Stories Tragically, in late October 2012 the RPC was hacked and most of the stories were deleted.  However, we were able to piece together most of the ongoing story lines and repost them.  One completed story (Just a World Away) was also reposted in its entirety; however, most of our archive of completed stories was lost.  We are now saving every post in every story so if catastrophe hits again, we will not lose a single syllable.  Each story has a story lead who is responsible for developing and executing a plot (in collaboration with other role players).  This plot is kept largely secret so that events are a surprise to the role players, but generally he or she must share parts of those future events with the participating role players to keep the plot on track.  The story lead also must be flexible and learn to adapt, because role players tend to do things unexpectedly that require tweaking the story line.  We do not have a minimum word count for posts, but each post should be long enough to carry the story forward, as appropriate for the context of the story.  In some cases a short post is needed, in others, a longer post is appropriate.  Currently, role players in the Angel/Buffyverse tend to write shorter posts than in the Supernatural and True Blood stories.   Some stories are written in multiple blogs, which are akin to separate scenes or chapters of a story.  Blogs may run concurrently or follow one another.  As a chapter or scene ends, a post will direct the role players to move to another blog. Following is a listing of ongoing stories: Angel/Buffyverse:Diving Deep Into the Wellspring of Magic: https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000353135New World Order in 2 blogs:https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000253003https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000282216https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000101800https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000195605It Happened in London https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000195611 https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000204404Just A World Away (in one blog, a Supernatural Story):The Runaways (Angelverse): https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000096620https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000171337https://www.roleplayer.me/view_blog.php?id=0000195598Trials of the Teenage Winchesters:

Rules of Operation for the Blog Story Pages          Creativity should never be stymied by rules, so the hard and fast prohibitions on these pages are kept to a bare minimum.  But rules there are, and if you violate them, your posts will be summarily deleted.  So here goes:   1) Let every word and every syllable in each and every post be true to the story.   2) Be courteous to your fellow role players.  This means taking some things in consideration. Please click here and read. . We have zero tolerance for drama!   3) Never delete a profile used in a blog story, and keep it active (log in at least every 45 days).  If deleted, then all your posts in the stories vanish, leaving holes.    4) Once you start in a story, stick with it to the end.  We all have obligations in real life.  If you need to go on hiatus for a while, we understand.  Just let the story lead know so we can write around you. To show us that you have read these rules, please comment with your favorite gif below.   That's it for rules.  But there are some guidelines that are just as important.  Drum roll, please...   1) THINK before you speak.  Read the story to make sure your post is IN CONTEXT - setting wise, time wise, other characters within earshot, whether it's day or night, etc. etc. etc.   2) Take the time to design your post so it MOVES THE STORY ALONG, in character development, plot, or setting.  If it doesn't achieve any of those things, shut up and sit down!   3) Take the TIME to write well.  You might want to think about writing out your post in Word or Word Perfect, doing a spell check and looking for grammatical errors before posting.    4) The role playing pages ARE NOT for chit chatting or out-of-character messaging.  There are other venues for that.    5) THINK about what you want to say, given the context of the story, then commit your thoughts to paper in as few words as possible.  Devise descriptions as needed for the reader to fully visualize what's happening, but for sure, concise is the name of the game, my literary friends.  If you drone on and on and on, your reader will develop attention deficit disorder and wander away, never to return again.  The longest post does not win - it's the one that draws the reader in and leaves them yearning and desperate for more.  THAT'S good writing my role-playing amigos.      6) Be INCLUSIVE.  Think how to involve other characters who may not be participating for one reason or another.  If you engage in posts that only involve one or two other characters, to the exclusion of others, we will lose the rest of our talented role players.  Give them an opportunity to participate, even if it means delaying the story for a while.   Message them when it's time for their input.    7) LEARN FROM OTHERS.  Read the posts of your fellow role players.  Find the posts you like and tease out what it is you like about them.  Don't plagiarize anyone word for word, but don't hesitate to adopt or adapt aspects of someone's style or even steal a few words from them now and then.  If you like someone's writing, ask them to critique some of your own posts.  There are excellent writers among us, and we should all be learning from each other.8) READ AND CONTEMPLATE our blog (on this page) entitled 'A Preliminary Guide for Composing Top-notch Role Play Posts'.   Finally, here are some resources for budding writers.  Take advantage of them...    https://thesaurus.com  An online thesaurus, dictionary, translator, and encyclopedia.  Use it to be creative with words and to give the appearance that your character is smart.   https://bcs.bedfordstmartins.com/easywriter4e/#518364__523173__Identifies the most common grammatical errors.  Use it to be grammatically correct.   https://www.writingclasses.com/InformationPages/index.php/PageID/269 Relish in writing tips from the masters of fiction.

These will come soon. I hope you all have common decency. x

1. I am not Tom Welling nor do I claim to be. Like you all I am a roleplayer.2. No godmodding, autoing, or controlling my character. I dislike godmodding as much as anyone else. I would never control your character, so I would personally like to have be shown the same courtesy I give to you. 3. If Clark is in a relationship, then he will not cheat. That's a promise. I won't cheat on the person I have an rp relationship with, because my Clark is a very committed person. 4. I have many pages, so I'm always bouncing on or off. So if you expect a reply, be patient, eventually I will get back to you. If you wish to discuss storylines/or connection, I'd be happy to comply. 5. Please don't attempt to kill off my character without my consent. If you do that, rest assured you will be deleted off my list. If you wish to try and kill off my character, we can discuss that in a message and see if we can cross that bridge. 6. Out of Character Drama is absolutely discouraged. If you cause drama, curse at someone or at my friends, you're off my page. If all you wanna do is whine and cuss, do it somewhere else. I don't tolerate fighting/conflict. RP drama is all good though. 7. I am fine with either para/multa roleplaying, and accept one-liners. I only require literacy. I don't wanna see someone using text talk. It's just kind of crazy. Novella is something I cannot do however.8. Hope we all have fun roleplaying.

Raw Guys * Dolph Ziggler (team captain) * Jack Swagger * Chris Masters * Mason Ryan * David Otunga Girls * Eve Torres (team captain) * Maryse * Beth Phoenix * Melina * Maxine

1. Disclaimer: I am not nor do i claim to be Tommy�Flangan. 2. Chibs Telford: He is the�creation of FX.3. Para/Multi.Para / Novalist: I do not one line. I will only Para . MultiPara. And Nova; There are some occassions where I will go out on a limb and one line. If you're not one of my close friends then don't ask. My starter usually starts with 3 or more paragraphs.4. Messages: I don't roleplay in messages ever. I find it to be rather annoying. Messages are only for ooc. If youu send me a starter than it must be through comments or a reply will not be sent.5. Drama: I cannot stress this enough. Uncessessary drama is by far the most pathetic thing in roleplaying. If youu try to start something with me, and have no reason too. Meaning youu lashed out at me unreasonably. Then I'll just block youu and let everyone know how pathetic youu are.6. Friendship: I take my friendships very seriously. I will always have your back no matter what the situation. Unless it's your fault of course. I believe everyone makes mistakes and that no one is perfect.�7. Grammer: Youu have to use proper grammer when talking to me. I know mistakes happen just don't let them happen constantly.�8.� Sex: Yes it does happen and yes I do rp�sex but I did not come here for that. If it ends up happening in�rp,�that is�another reason my comments are hidden. On another note to this rule, like the show if Chibs is horny, sex does occur, do not get pissed about it. I will get graphic and if youu don't like it delete me.9.�Comments: I will talk to very few people in comments�and if I do your lucky, I�am a Roleplayer and I will only�roleplay. Not chit chat all the time10. Starters: Do not send�them bumping into Chibs, if youu do I will ask youu to send a new one and if youu do not I will delete youu. If youu actually read this then put "The Sergant"

2013 PWI Awards and rankings are soonly approching and the also the other one i forgot GTA III has now marked it's eight episode the franchise will reach till it's 20th episode as the finale is soon approching looks like another series is also up in arriving soon X-Men Legends only rumors are heard but i will keep everyone updated the 2013 WWE Hall of Fame for Season is nearly uppon us soon we will find out who will be inducted this year joining all the immortals of Season :) Teddy Long seems to be very flatred with the performance of current diva and smackdown general manager Tiffany as she has impressed many current intercontinetal champion Christian is not the only one in his family that holds a title also his kids, Briley Pierece current world heavyweight champion, Jason Payne current WWE champion and Mike Bennett ECW champion a very congrats to the four they are very talented men :) looks like another diva turning eyes is current WWE divas champion Leah as Teddy Long is very impressed and has big plans for the bright diva

Prologue... Beverly briskly entered Deep Space Nine's Sickbay and halted posthaste when she saw Thomas through the large window of the private room. He held Deanna's small hand in his larger one intently watching her lying on the bio bed surrounded by medical staff. Beverly knew, from past experience with both Thomas and Will, what he was doing. She never professed to fully understand the connection the Riker men, including the youngest Riker male, had with Deanna, especially the one Thomas and Deanna shared. Somehow it was different; stronger yet more delicate and undeniably more intense. It was akin to watching a volcanic lava eruption that never ceased flowing; it simply continued to grow in strength. Deanna was on her side curled up in the fetal position facing Thomas. She was fast asleep with the aid of medication while he was sitting in a chair beside his Imzadi, with an utterly desolate look on his face. He looked like he had aged 10 years when in reality it'd only been 12 hours since she'd last seen him. She quietly set her bag down and walked over to him, reaching out she touched his shoulder. He didn't flinch; he simply looked up at her with bloodshot blue eyes, shock still written upon his handsome features. The compassion and understanding in Beverly's eyes was his undoing. Thomas Riker, the man, reached out for her, wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. Like a wounded child he rested his head on her stomach and tried to control his tears. When she reached down and tenderly stroked his head she heard Thomas' breathing catch. She knelt down and enfolded her arms around his shoulders as he buried his head on her shoulder. Beverly felt him inhale deeply, trying to control his emotions, but it was a losing battle, his tears started to fall. Knowing Thomas wouldn't want an audience to see his breakdown she looked over her shoulder at the nurse and gave a knowing nod. The young nurse ushered the medical staff out, closed the curtains and shut the doors behind. Without a word Beverly sighed and stayed where she was holding her friend and letting him cry as she began to shed tears of her own. Chapter One It just hasn't been the same without Deanna these past agonizingly slow four plus weeks Riker thought to himself as he sat in the morning's briefing. He was reminded, in her absence, what a steadying calming factor she was to not only him but also the rest of his crew as well as many other inhabitants of the DS9 station. He sighed, `I can't wait `til she gets back. I can't wait to touch her, to kiss her, to make love to her. I'm getting tired of only having her pillow to smell when I go to bed.' He thought. Finally the meeting adjourned and Thomas, having 'requested', not that he needed to request,  the next three days off, chose to get his hair and beard trimmed as well as make an effort to clean up his quarters before his beautiful Betazoid arrived back home to him. Thomas returned to his quarters, ordered up a steaming cup of hot coffee from the replicator and sat down at his desk. He saw there was an incoming message from Betazed. `What timing,' God how he ached to hold her in his arms again, to inhale and bask in her scent that lingered on him while he went through his day. There were times, that after he'd showered he'd purposefully get his wife aroused, pull her up onto his torso, grab her hips and rub her heated, soaking wet, sweet smelling core all over his chest just so he could smell her throughout his day. He'd also done it before away missions at times simply to have a physical part of her with him for a day. That, coupled with her mental brushes would make him smile; at times groan, which drew looks if done too loud and he'd smile unashamedly. He was not one to shy away from his erotic side; in fact he thrived on it. There too were times that same combination would backfire on him and force him to seek out privacy so he could ease his overwhelming need for her. The advantage and drawback, if one could even call it a drawback, of being intimately involved and mentally connected to a Betazoid, he wouldn't have it any other way. He smiled at the woman staring back at him. He took note that she was still at the Troi mansion and not on a transport back to the DS9 but chose not to comment just yet as to why, thinking she would explain in due time. "Hello Love." His thick baritone voice stated tenderly. "Hello yourself." she answered back. Even though she tried to hide it she was not in a good mood. She was in a downright foul mood that was for sure. "How are you beautiful?" He drawled. Deanna sighed, "I'm fine Thomas." But she clearly was not fine. Thomas frowned and forgetting he was going to wait for her to bring up the explanation he spoke, "So what's going on? Why are you still on Betazed when you should be on a transport back to DS9 and back to me?" he asked curtly. "Because Captain," she stated sarcastically, "the particular transport I was to be on had some sort of mechanical failure problems and the next one won't be until late tomorrow evening." She sighed heavily once again. "I'm sorry Thomas." Tears welled up in her eyes. "But at least mother will be happy that I'm here a little while longer." She wiped the tears away with the back of her hand and forced a smile. Thomas' throat knotted hard and he put his hand on the screen as if to touch her face. "Sssh, baby don't cry. I can't bear to see you cry. Everything will work out just fine. Come on now keep your chin up. It's not like it's the end of the universe Deanna." He stated calmly. "But Thomas, tonight, tomorrow and the day after were supposed to be our days." She let the next several tears fall down her flushed cheeks. "This was supposed to be the first time we've spent your birthday together as a couple. Not just as friends but as a couple and now it's all ruined. And I know you requested time off for today as well as the following two days and it's just ruined." "It's not ruined." Thomas attempted to soothe Deanna's frustration. "Let me see if I can still get you back here later tonight Imzadi. I'll find you an available something, be it federation, private or whatever. Wait for me to contact you back." Thomas paused and gave her his trademark Riker grin. "Oh and Deanna it's just another day honestly you know that don't you? Any day shared with you is a special day to me." "You're right Thomas any day together is a special day, but did you make any plans on your end for us?" She asked somewhat pensively. "Don't have a plan of attack as of yet love. I thought perhaps we might throw caution to the wind, wing it a little and see what * comes up *." He smirked at his comment thinking it was smart. Deanna chose to ignore it. "So Captain Riker, I guess it really doesn't matter if you try to find me a transport back home or not since there aren't any plans!" she retorted vehemently. "How's Little William?" `Good God what a shitty, shitty mood.' He thought as he spoke, almost whispering her name as he leaned toward the screen, "Deanna." He paused and remained calm speaking softly, "Of course it matters and he's with the O'Brien's playing with Molly, he's excited that he's going to spend the next few days with them." His bright blue eyes twinkled and a smile crossed his face. "Throwing caution to the wind doesn't necessarily mean I don't have any ideas," he smirked. "I have lots of wonderful ideas." His voice became a low husky growl as he leaned closer yet to the screen. "Most of them only need you and me alone with chocolate and strawberry ice cream." He chuckled hoping to get a positive response from her but only received a halfhearted smile. "Oh Thomas." "Now hold on and let me see what I can do to get you back here tonight. Stay right where you are I'll be back with you shortly." He placed two fingers to his lips and then touched the screen with them and with that he disengaged the link and set to work on finding alternate transportation for one upset, frustrated Betazoid.   CHAPTER TWO It'd been four hours since he'd found Deanna new traveling arrangements. It wasn't hard to find with all his connections legitimate and otherwise. She was now well on her way back home, however she wouldn't arrive tonight as planned but early the next morning. He'd busied himself with cleaning his quarters and rearranging several items making extra space, space for Deanna to put some of her things if she wished. He'd even spoken to one of DS9's engineers about his idea of expanding his quarters with Deanna's but hadn't quite been able to accomplish it before her return. He wanted Deanna to just move in with him when she came aboard as DS9's resident counselor but she opted to have her own quarters for the time being, even when he'd practically begged her not to. Although she spent ninety percent of her time in his quarters he did understand her need to be alone at times and although certain specific people knew him and Deanna were together, they also opted, for the time being, to keep their relationship, specifically their marriage, private. However the gossip mill would run rampant at the slightest morsel of rumor regarding the SID Captain and the station's resident counselor. So he'd keep the expansion idea tucked away from Deanna for the time being. He was getting anxious, weeks without her making him more so. The sound of his computer terminal brought him out of his thoughts, an incoming message. He knew who it was from; he'd been waiting for it. She'd told him she'd contact him once they were well on their way. Her beautiful face filled the screen. "Hello Imzadi." Deanna smiled. "Hi yourself, how are the traveling arrangements? Agreeing with you? Meet with your approval? Up to your standards?" He lowered his voice before he spoke again. "Imzadi I can't wait for you to be home." Deanna was remarkably more relaxed and she let out a dainty laugh. Thomas' grin went from ear to ear, "It's good to hear you laugh." She leaned into the screen "I'm sorry about earlier Imzadi. I was and still am just frustrated and a little aggravated that I'm not going to be curled up with you tonight. Four and a half weeks is four weeks too long to be without you." "I'm a little frustrated about that myself but I've been taking it out on my quarters by cleaning them." He was proud of himself and smiled. "Don't be alarmed when you get here and think you're in the wrong quarters. I've picked up all my dirty socks and made the bed." He let out a small chuckle and once again leaned into the view screen, his voice low rough with desire. "Deanna, we can make up for you not being in my bed tonight by staying in our bed all day tomorrow if you so desire. Your wish will be my command for the next two days." Either she'd ignored or completely missed the infinitesimal point he'd made with the mere change of one word. "We can't stay in bed all day Thomas. Tomorrow is your birthday and we have to celebrate." Deanna countered him. "I told you, it's just another day, we don't have to celebrate." "Don't be ridiculous. We have them, so we need to celebrate them." "What do you have in mind? Since obviously my ideas are no longer at the forefront of your mind." "Umm, I thought maybe we'd go to dinner either on the Promenade or a bit more romantic in the Holodeck, take a walk along a sandy beach at dusk, go dancing and then end up in bed." she purred seductively as her finger slid up and down the screen. "Why don't we just start in bed and skip everything else? We could replicate dinner in." he growled in a husky voice. "You are shameless and oh so bad Thomas Riker," she whispered. "Oh, Imzadi, I'm not bad. If you want bad, I'll give you ba..." "Thomas, I have to go, someone else needs to use this," Deanna interrupted. "Wait Deanna, one more thing before you go. Silk, Chocolate, Carmel, whipped cream, strawberries and ... "Oh, Gods, Thomas, you're insufferable!" "Ashau du nuh'," Thomas laughed as the link was disconnected. ((((Love you too.))))   CHAPTER THREE "Computer time." "0237 hours." "Damn time is moving slow." He sat down at his desk, picked up an old-fashioned pen and paper and leaned back in his chair closing his eyes to think. Since sleep was eluding him, he thought he'd occupy his time doing something romantic while Deanna was still on her way back home to him. Thomas Riker wasn't prone to writing poetry until one Betazoid raven- haired beauty entered his life. His attempts seemed doomed to failure in his opinion. He could count on both hands and feet how many he'd written and tossed away over the years, except for those he'd written while imprisoned. He could count on one hand how many he'd written and stashed away near a small velvet green box and he could count on one finger how many he'd written and had taken away. He sat at his desk writing a few lines and either scratched them out or wadded the paper up and threw it onto the floor. He kept writing and writing. His mind overflowed with words and phrases. He seemed a bit awed by his mind's ability to do so.  You leaned over and you kissed me I felt my knees go weak You leaned over and you kissed me I couldn't even speak You leaned over and you kissed me With passion flowing free You leaned over and you kissed me A touch so soft and tender You leaned over and you kissed me With the fire no kiss should lack You leaned over and you kissed me My soul you did explore You leaned over and you kissed me Lover, kiss me so much more! "Aaghh, that's horrible." He wadded it up and threw it on the floor. "I'll never get this right before she gets back." He mumbled to himself. He pressed pen to paper once again. You Are My Poetry You whisper verbs in my breath Kiss the corners of my smile Touch the depth of my heartbeat And breathe my poetry. You trace the echo of my hunger Sign the curves of my skin Take my desires as your own And inspire my verses. You linger soft where I need you Never tremble receiving my loving Adorn my life with your beauty And have become my poetry. `Good thing the replicator can make paper.' He thought as one more paper wad went flying through the air and landed haphazardly upon the couch. His once orderly room had become a mass of white wadded paper balls. `How can she like this dribble?' Just then the glint in his eyes became just as wicked as the smile on his face and he started writing once again. Deanna Dear for one night I want you to be my call girl Coming around in that just right do me now outfit Standing at my door in black spike heels and stockings waiting to entertain me   I want to unwrap you by candle light Slowly, like a very special package delivered just for me Letting me take my time, not tearing any paper as I lift your shirt above your waist   Sitting you in a chair by the viewport Pity no one can catch a glimpse As I part your legs and you arch your back Showing me your urgent need, pleading with me to lick With leisure, as it holds my favorite flavor   You want me kneeling before you, naked I see Nibbling at your passion flower with my teeth Around the edges of your silk panties Caressing your petals with my chin and nose Savoring the fragrance while our eyes gently close   Not content with this petting for long The urge to strong Like a cat kneading, you can't help but purr While I remove, smiling up at you, your silken panties I spread your lips like sweet sweet honey Using my fingers to start the flow While you're watching down at me As you raise them to my mouth, offering a taste Begging me to tell you what I want I say please, I will do anything you ask Being at your mercy, submitting to your hunger For the moment is my task to see your whole body smile With the pleasures my heart and body have to offer. "What a fantastic birthday gift that would be!" He stated excitedly as he chuckled and proceeded to peruse over that which he'd just written and set it aside on the desk willing his body to power down. "Riker you horny bastard damn good thing Deanna will be home today. You really do need to get laid or take a very cold shower." He shook his head, closed his eyes and took a deep cleansing breath. "Ok Riker let's get it right this time." With evidence entered, I kiss your perfect face Moist from busy dreaming Your scent marks me Your fingerprints, My pen dipping in you, on point, Extracting, gliding us With even strokes Into the night's ink   Write me across the pages of your universe in passages transcribed upon the stars for you have read the poetry of my soul in Braille upon my skin and you have woven your words with mine across the seven seas sailed between Polaris and Orion.   Speak my name into the wind in syllables that drip from your tongue with nectar licked from the very tips of my fingers under the spell of daybreak chanted on the breaths between whispers spoken by beating hearts.   Carve our initials on the backside of the moon and throw a kiss into the slipstream for it to rain on me at twilight and I will throw it back to you before the night sets in so you can drink the passion that flows from the inscription of your name upon my lips. Thomas reread his words and smiled satisfactorily, "Perfect. Not the greatest but still perfect." He laid it back down on his desk next to his written fantasy and tapped his comm badge. "Riker to Bridge," He stood, walked to his bedroom striping off his clothing, leaving them where they fell and he laid his well-formed, large naked frame spread eagle on his bed relaxing in the warmth. His quarters were several degrees warmer than most of the station due to his wife and son and their need to keep it warmer for their liking. It was a trivial thing he'd readily accepted and gotten quite used to. "Yes Sir?" "Please inform me when the Corvallen Freighter arrives to docking port. It should be within the next hour or so. Counselor Troi is on that ship." "Aye Sir." "Computer time?" "0647 hours." `Good, just over an hour before she arrives. I'll just take a small cat nap,' he thought. He'd finally gotten tired and sleep overtook him in mere moments. CHAPTER FOUR "Bridge to Captain Riker," The unseen voice waited moments and having gotten no reply stated once again. "Bridge to Captain Riker." Riker awoke with a start and replied groggily. "Riker here." "Sir you requested to be informed when the Corvallen Freighter arrived. It's in docking port three as we speak." "Yes, thank you, Riker out." Thomas sat up grabbed his pants and shoes put them on and stood to fasten his pants. Grabbing the white t-shirt he'd discarded earlier in the living area he put it on as he walked out his door and headed towards docking port three. He ran his hand through his long dark hair without so much as a thought about how that had enhanced his already slightly disheveled appearance, "Riker to docking port three?" "Captain?" "Has Counselor Troi debarked yet?" "No Sir." "Good wait until my arrival to do so." "Aye Sir." Riker entered the room and gave the order to open the port doors. `Gods I can't wait to touch her.' Ensign Michaels observed and took note of the tousled appearance of SID's Commanding Officer. Something he'd have to add to the Riker/Troi rumor mill. 'Couldn't wait to see Counselor Troi; that much is obvious,' Michaels snorted quietly as Riker briefly looked at him and spoke abruptly. "Open the doors." Riker stood tall and watched as his vision of beauty named Deanna Troi stood before his weary eyes. He grinned as she demurely stepped through the door, walked to him, dropped her bag at his feet and spoke seductively as she wrapped her slender arms around his neck and curl a finger in his hair. "It's so good to see and touch you again Imzadi." Thomas Riker had the biggest smile she'd ever seen on his face. He was no longer fatigued. Ensign Michaels began making mental notes; the very large smile on Riker's face and what could be made out to be smoldering desire in his eyes. The kiss Troi placed on Riker's neck and then on his lips. 'This is great stuff. I can't wait to tell Sorenson and Bellows about this. They aren't going to believe it. Captain Riker did have a softer side and was evidently not a prick all the time.' Suddenly Deanna felt his arms slip around her waist and she was pulled against a solid chest and a very hard something else as Thomas began nuzzling her neck. Then he lifted his head, placed his mouth on hers and his tongue delved deep into her mouth. She pressed herself into his frame until he had to back them against the wall or fall over. "Deanna," he gasped seductively in her mouth. "Oh, God, I missed you so much." Thomas was making quick work of kissing her again and roaming his hands through her hair, over her breasts, her back and ass entirely oblivious of his surroundings. Before the couple went any further however they abruptly stopped upon hearing Ensign Michaels clear his throat rather loudly. Realizing where they were Thomas lifted his head, pushed slightly away from Deanna, sheepishly grinned at the smiling yet slightly embarrassed Ensign and shrugged nonchalantly. Thomas grabbed Deanna's hand as he reached down for her bag. Strategically placing it in front of him he made a beeline for the door and left the room hastily virtually dragging Deanna in tow. "Where are we going?" She asked innocently. "To bed," he responded wolfishly. "Why? Are you tired Thomas?" Deanna giggled. "No Deanna I'm not tired, I'm horny as hell and I'm going to fuck you so long and hard you won't be able to walk straight for a week." He growled indifferent to who might have heard the old terrain slang profanity which Thomas Riker was known to use on a regular basis. Ensign Michaels laughed as he heard the verbal transaction before the doors closed and shook his head. He tucked away the tidbit of information he'd just been witness to, knowing that several people in the Riker/Troi betting pool were going to win a lot of credits later that day including him. Once they arrived at the door, Thomas picked Deanna up, walked into the cabin straight to the bedroom and set her down beside the bed "How was your trip?" He tossed her bag aside. She reached up and kissed his neck as he made swift work of unbuttoning her blouse, pulling it off and unhooking her bra tossing them all on the floor.  "A bit bumpy at times but otherwise satisfactory," Deanna muttered as she lifted his white t- shirt over his head and threw it on the floor next to hers. She undid his pants and pushed them down "I didn't get much rest at all." She stated as she kicked off her shoes and Thomas lowered her skirt along with her slinky little panties. "Mmm beautiful as ever Imzadi," He growled as his hands slowly caressed her now nude hips, thighs and ass. "Kupi-sarlah nash-veh yeht i' Imzadi," ((((I could come right now, Imzadi.))))Thomas toed off his boots and pulled his pants the rest of the way off.  "I think I got forty-five minutes of sleep or so early this morning love." Quirking an eyebrow Deanna quipped, "Practicing your Vulcan I see. Let's not teach our son that phrase just yet," she was looking down at his body admiring the view. "Thomas?" "Yea?" He was grinning down at her when she looked up at his face. "You don't have any underwear on." She quipped. Thomas leaned down and kissed Deanna soundly on the mouth as he picked her up and laid her in the middle of the bed.  "I didn't feel the need to put them on this morning sweetheart, just one extra thing to be removed." "Do you go commando often Imzadi. Or is this something new since I've been away?" She asked smiling. "I suppose that's something you'll just have to figure out on your own my dear." Thomas stated as he reclaimed her mouth in a bruising kiss. "Make love with me Thomas, now, please!" She reached up and pulled him down onto her. She guided him to her and ever so slowly he slid himself inside of her as he watched love wash across her face. "I've missed you so much Deanna. So very much that I don't think I'll last very long." "Then don't Imzadi, just love me please." He smiled at her, "With pleasure my love."   CHAPTER FIVE Two hours later when Deanna opened her eyes, she was looking at old fashioned photographs. Although she found it a bit odd to have old fashioned style pictures, she smiled none the less as she recognized the first picture as one from their first official date as a reestablished couple. Thomas had taken her to the Holodeck for a picnic and he had recreated the Janaran Falls; the first place they'd ever made love and learned each other's bodies, minds and souls. The second picture was of Thomas and his, now their, son Little William after Thomas had discovered and rescued him from Cardassia Prime, the third was of her and Little Will on the smallest, newest Riker's recently established birthday and the fourth picture was of young William as a baby; a picture that Thomas' Romulan ally had given him and Thomas cherished it above all others since he'd not known of his son until he was almost two and a half years old. Thomas had put the photographs in beautiful wooden frames that resembled the logs on the Riker Log Cabin home in Alaska and they sat prominently on the bed stand next to his oversized bed, a bed she realized, the first time she'd shared it with her lover,  fit his large, muscular body perfectly yet seemed to dwarf hers. Deanna smiled, turned in Thomas' arms and kissed him, waking him and their lovemaking began anew.  After hours of love making, Deanna again began to awaken with a feeling of euphoria. "Mmm," she purred as she snuggled deeper into her pillow. She ran her right hand over the covering, surprised that it felt so good as rough as it was. She tried to move her legs and found that she couldn't. Still almost asleep, she opened her eyes to see not a pillow, but a nice soft, furry chest. She moved her head slightly and planted several kisses on it. She heard a low long growl and tilted her head up to look into her husband's face. Her eyes widened like saucers when she finally realized that it in fact was not a dream, it was real, and she was at last, after four and a half weeks, in Thomas Riker's arms. "Good morning Imzadi. So very glad you're home." He whispered huskily. Deanna tried to move but realized she couldn't as her legs were entwined with Thomas' larger ones. He pulled her tighter to him possessively and matter of factually stated, "Mine." Before he started to quietly snore, Deanna giggled and allowed herself to also fall back asleep in her Imzadi's arms after giving him a peck on the chin and answering him, "Yes, yours, always will be yours." CHAPTER SIX He hadn't slept well for weeks and was making good on his notion of staying in bed all day thus far. It was eleven twenty-seven hours and Thomas lay on his back still groggy from sleep with Deanna on her side pressed against him. Her arm was across his chest, her leg draped over his thighs and her head nuzzled into his neck, sound asleep after they'd made passionate love for the third time since she'd gotten back that morning. He chuckled as he remembered the conversation that lead up to their third love making session. Thomas was glad he'd had Little William spend time with the O'Brien's. William enjoyed spending time with their daughter Molly. "Happy Birthday, Captain Riker and I love you Imzadi." She'd said sleepily. "And I love you too Imzadi. Now rest. Go back to sleep." "I don't want to sleep. What I want is to make love with you," she purred and crawled on top of him, straddling him. He could tell she was already stimulated and it didn't take him but a few seconds to become aroused by her. "Deanna, you're exhausted. You can't possibly have the energy to have me pounding inside of you, again," But Deanna wouldn't take no for an answer and he loved what she was doing to him. He wanted her, and he wanted her now and it appeared that she craved the very same thing. "Make love to me, Riker. Make love to me! We've been apart for so long. I don't want to be apart any more. I want to be with you, I want to feel you inside me again. Thomas, love me now please." He chuckled once again at the memory as he settled himself. "You're going to wear me out my love." He whispered into his sleeping lover's hair as he faded off into oblivion once again hugging her tighter to him as he did so. Less than a half-hour later the couple awakened simultaneously, "Dax to Captain Riker." A half-asleep Captain, stretched, reached for his communicator and responded groggily, "Riker here." "Thomas I've been buzzing your door for the past five minutes. Is everything all right, I need to talk to you." Jadzia's voice was filled with lilt. Thomas grumbled and answered gruffly, "Everything's fine. Is this something that can wait Jadzia?" He looked over at Deanna and watched her shrug to his unasked question. "No Thomas, I'm afraid it can't. Besides what are you still sleeping for anyway? It's thirteen hundred hours for crying out loud. Are you feeling all right?" She could barely contain her mirth. She knew he wasn't alone, knowing by his voice that she'd awoken him and hadn't broken up a private party of two. "I'm Fine, give me a minute," He growled as he dislodged himself from Deanna and got out of bed. He proceeded out of the bedroom and grumpily headed for the door when Deanna's voice stopped him. "Oh Thomas?" she was trying to stifle a giggle as she stared at him. The tall, tired, disheveled man stopped and turned to face her. "What?" he stated a bit more sharply than he'd planned and Deanna broke out into laughter. "Why are you laughing Deanna?" he whined. She pointed at him and he shook his head, "WHAT?" "Thomas, you might try putting on some clothes before you answer the door or you'll give Jadzia a very large shock." Thomas looked down, grumbled, walked over to a chair and grabbed the pair of pants he'd tossed aside earlier that morning and put them on. "There, more presentable sweetheart?" "Oh yes, much." Deanna continued to giggle as she got out of bed, found her robe and followed him into the living area sitting down on the sofa. She knew what was coming for her Imzadi, she'd spoken with Jadzia about it a week prior and she was excited to see his reaction to the little surprise. He opened the door and jumped back two or three steps from the shock of a dozen young school children, including his three year old, yelling "HAPPY BIRTHDAY, happy birthday to YOU!" They were holding a banner in front of them as they sang to him and for Jadzia's part she could barely withhold her own excitement. Thomas quickly turned and shot a quick glare to Deanna behind him, pinning her with his big blue eyes clearly asking `Did you know about this?' And then he turned back to Jadzia with a `I'll get you for this' look before he allowed himself to smile and say thank you to the children for the Birthday well wishes and the banner they had made for him. After they'd all wished him a happy birthday, his son looked up at his very, very large father and began to speak. "D..d...daadaayy, w..ww..wweee ha..a..aava burffffaaadaayy ..." the dimple chinned, black haired, blue eyed, charming pointed eared, Riker toddler put two of his fingers, from his dominant left hand, in his mouth for a moment before he finished. Noting he was nervous in front of his classmates, making his child's speech impediment more prominent,  Thomas dropped down to his eye level, placed his hands on his son's arms, great pride emanating from him for the Riker determination his three year old had swiftly developed in the short six months he'd been with his father.  "Hal_tor fi' Sa_Fu, Du kup tor..." Thomas paused as he couldn't translate the last word so he spoke it in Earth Standard. "...it." ((((Go on Son, You can do it.)))) Thomas made sure he spoke to his half Human/half Vulcan son in Vulcan as often as he could, together along with Deanna, they were learning the language and the latter was teaching both her Riker men the Betazoid language as well. Deanna had placed a halt on too many other languages Thomas had knowledge of. Not so much because it would be too much for the lad but because most of the words weren't the most appropriate of words to be teaching a small boy of three. Little William reached  out and cupped his small hands on either side of his father's face, nodded, smiled back and spoke with more conviction. "Aaaafff..fff...ffffaaa   c...c...ccooool    weee, ummm   havvv...aaa   burrrfffffffaaadaayy ppp..ppp..pppaattt...ttt...tttaa    fff..fff...fff..fffoo     uuuu    Dddaadddayy,    uuummm     Maa..maann..maaann..mmanaa S..s..s..sissk...k...koooo    saaaay    w...w..wweee    ccc..cccaaana      doooo     bbbbyyyy       bigggaaa    wi...wi...winooows  on p..p..prooromaaaadddaaa,    cc...cc..ccaannnaa uuuu    cc..cc.cccomeeee      p..p..puuueeezzz   dd...dd...ddaaddayy? W..w..w..wwweee     g...g...goonnnaaaa     hhhaaavvvaaa   c...c..cccake   aaaa...aaaann   um    iiiiiccc   ceeeeeeemmmm fff..fff..fffoooo      uuuuu    ddd...ddd..dddaaddaayy,  ppp...ppp...pppuueeeeze ccc...ccc...cccuuummm." Thomas could feel Deanna's aching desire to want to help their son with the struggles that he was dealing with and it too broke Thomas' heart to see his lovely little boy struggle and suffer, if he could take it all away and upon himself he would do it in a nanosecond.  Watching and hearing his son struggle simply fueled Thomas' rage and disgust for the entire Cardassian race and quite frankly the most important reason of them all to hate the Cardassians was what they'd done to his baby boy. One day, the charming lad would overcome all of his problems and be the stronger and wiser for it. Thomas' eyes were soft and he had a very large grin on his face as he nodded his head yes and placed a hand on William's shoulder. "You are having a party for me?" He was truly surprised. "Why William, I'd be delighted and honored to attend. What time shall I be there my boy?" He wrapped his arms around his son as the younger Riker looked up at Jadzia for the answer. "Sixteen hundred hours would be wonderful Captain." Jadzia winked at her friend. "Very good, we'll see you then." The children smiled and said goodbye, luckily young William hadn't seen Deanna, as Thomas stood in the doorway watching them walk down the hallway. He then turned around to see Deanna on her feet backpedaling away from him, giggling as she did so. "You knew about this didn't you?" He started to stalk her. "You're lucky your son didn't see you, you know." She simply nodded her head, laughed and started to run as he chased her around the cabin. By the time he was able to grab her and push her to the floor she was laughing so hard she had tears in her eyes. "Oh Gods Thomas, I thought you were going to fall over when the door opened and they yelled happy birthday. I wish I could have seen the look on your face." "Ah a payback is in order here I do believe." He flipped Deanna onto her back, untied her robe and proceeded to tickle her mercilessly. CHAPTER SEVEN He'd felt a bit awkward and tense at the start of the party but as it wore on he'd become more relaxed about the idea. Even more so after Deanna wrapped her arms around one of his and told him that it was good practice being around more than just one child every now and again, she'd stated smiling up at him. His response to her comment was to lean over and kiss her without a care as to where he was. He looked around a bit sheepishly afterward and saw numerous very wide smiles on some of the crew's faces. It was clear to him that they'd suddenly gone very public with their relationship.  Thomas had laughed with the children as he blew out the candles of his trombone shaped cake and again when he'd opened the several gifts the kids had made in their art classes for him. He enjoyed watching as the children started to become more at ease around him just as he had with them. Riker had taken great care in speaking with each child individually and thanking them for thinking of him on such a special day. The adults took delight in Thomas' shocked look when several of the children even approached the larger than life SID Captain and blindsided him by giving him a hug.  For Thomas' part he actually enjoyed himself immensely and had almost decided to forgive Jadzia and Deanna, but not entirely. Thomas smiled even more and his heart swelled with so much love when his son had decided to take five minutes out of his play time to hug and kiss his mother and then climb into Thomas' lap, cup his cheeks in his tiny hands as he often did and plant a sloppy kiss on his daddy's cheek, and whispered in his ear, "H...hhh...hhhappp...pp..pppaaa Burfffddd..ddd..ddday   ddd...ddd..dddaaaddd..ddd...dddy. Mmmeeee lllooovvvvv uuuuuu." Thomas hugged his little boy tightly, kissed his cheek and whispered in his ear, loud enough for Deanna to hear as well, that he loved him. "Taluhk nash-veh k'dular." With that the boy, with eyes that matched his own, scrambled from his lap and scurried off to play once again. The party had finally wound down. The parents ushered their children off the Promenade and Thomas finally leaned back in a chair after he graciously thanked all the children, teachers and parents who'd made such an effort to show him he was appreciated. He was toying with one of his gifts, a miniature black head with two big blobs of blue where the eyes should be protruding from it and he chuckled at the irony of it all. "Well Captain Riker, that was certainly enjoyable and entertaining." Commander Sisko smiled as he sat next to Riker and grabbed the black head out of Thomas' hands and held it up next to Riker's head. "Why Thomas, I'd say the likeness is simply incredible, simply incredible indeed. What do you think Kira?" "The resemblance is remarkably uncanny." Kira chimed in as she placed drinks at the table in front of both officers as well as three more beverages. Thomas shook his head and chuckled. "Dontcha think the eyes are a bit big?" Before both had a chance to respond Daniel, Vatican, Deanna and Jadzia approached the table and sat down with their drinks. Thomas eyed the two women respectively and waggled his finger at them. "Don't think you're off the hook ladies." Jadzia scoffed and snickered, as did Deanna. "Oh Thomas, you can't honestly say you didn't have a good time? The children were absolutely adorable and wonderful." Jadzia looked at Thomas, "You know Thomas your son; dare I say he's quite the little charmer just like his daddy and his uncle. I wonder, is his grandpapa Riker as much of a charmer as his offspring?" Thomas groused slight at the mention of Kyle then merely nodded and smiled. "Alright Deanna, yes I had a good time and yes the kids were great. But this doesn't mean it's open season on Riker." He stated gruffly and took a stiff drink of his beverage and pulled the glass away from his mouth in surprise. "This is delicious and ... real." Kira simply patted Thomas on the back, "For a special occasion." He smiled up at her, "Thank you Kira." "Happy Birthday Captain," She smiled and as she leaned back in her chair. CHAPTER EIGHT They'd been talking and drinking for several hours and to everyone, but Jadzia and Daniel's surprise, Deanna had pulled her chair close to Thomas and cozied up to him about two minutes after she'd sat down at the table. Thomas, for his part ponied up closer to Deanna as well. Close enough to where they were in constant body contact, whether it was an arm, leg, fingers or lips. At one point Thomas leaned over to give Deanna a soft kiss on her cheek but ended up lips to lips when she turned toward him at the same time. Thomas delved his tongue into Deanna's mouth and deepened the kiss letting it linger longer than initially planned. "Ashayam," he murmured.  ((((Beloved.)))) Thomas was starting to think how fitting it would be to start giving some payback to Deanna under the table with his roving paw. Then he thought the wiser of it knowing it would simply inflame him as well, but he did take a small liberty now and again and Deanna would squirm, try to hide a gasp or a sigh amusing him all the more as he ran his hand up between her legs and gently rubbed her core through her dress; he knew she wasn't wearing any panties under her little black dress and it turned his crank. He'd asked her to go without them, prior to leaving his quarters, as a small birthday gift to him and she'd agreed to give him that. The more Riker drank the more open in his public displays of affection in regard to Deanna became. Every so often he'd pick up her hand and kiss it or rub it on his cheek. Periodically he'd place his arm around her shoulders and hug her to him, smile directly at her and wink. Often times he'd reach under the table and knowingly squeeze her knee or thigh or take his hand and run it seductively up as far on her leg as he could without getting hit while having a huge schoolboy grin plastered on his face. They'd exchange knowing glances from time to time not truly caring if anyone saw. Besides it wasn't like their relationship was a secret now. Not after the way they'd behaved in docking port three that morning anyway. Riker realized that it would be station wide knowledge that he and the station's counselor where now very intimately involved with each other and were officially off the market. They hadn't broadcast their marriage so it wasn't common knowledge and those that did know weren't prone to divulging said information at the behest of Deanna and Thomas. The couple thought it would be safer for the time being due to the nature of Thomas' job. Now Thomas didn't know why he'd kept it on the down low in the first place. She was after all his best friend, wife, lover, a mother to his son and future children but most importantly his Imzadi and he was to the point of not caring if the entire universe knew.  Other than the fact of keeping Deanna safe from any so called enemies of Thomas', there was no other reason to keep it a secret. By twenty-two hundred hours The Promenade started to get busier with the nightlife. Thomas stood rather unsteadily; everyone at the table knew he was more than slightly buzzed and tipsy from the alcohol. Daniel started to offer his assistance to Thomas but was waved off by a rather animated arm motion from his commanding officer. "Nooo Daaaanieeeeelllll, I'mmm fahhine. Beeeessssides I neeeed to essscorrrt Deannnnaaa hommme." He paused and then stage whispered. "I think she'sss aaa liaatte tiiiired annnn drrrruuunk." Thomas slurred and felt the room spin slightly as he stood behind Deanna's chair, waiting for her to stand. They said their goodnights and headed down the hall. Thomas leaned his large frame rather heavily against Deanna and draped his arm possessively over her shoulders and she wrapped her arm around his waist, every bit the poster couple of Deep Space Nine as they made their exit. "Well this evening's Riker Troi display will ignite the betting pools and you can bet he'll have one hell of a hangover tomorrow that's for sure." Jadzia snickered as she took another drink. Daniel chimed in. "Yeah maybe one of them should go away more often, it'll make life less painful on the rest of us when whichever one comes back home." "Cheers to that." Sisko said as he lifted his glass. Once they rounded the corner; Thomas stopped, leaned against the wall in a small recess and whirled Deanna into his arms and planted a long, hard, wet kiss on her lips. "Mmm I love youuuuuuuuuuu Deeeeeeaaaaaaaannnnnnaaaaaaaa Rrrrrrriiikerrrrr" He slurred. "Mmm youuu feeeeel sooooo gooooood." He lowered his head again and caught her lips in a bruising kiss. He ran his hands through her hair and down her shoulders then cupped her breasts in his large hands, kneading them and worrying her nipples between finger and thumb as she groaned at the pleasure he was sending through her body. Even drunk Thomas knew how to electrify her body and bring it to life, thrilling her to her very core. Deanna pulled away with an audible smack and smiled up at her Imzadi. "I love you too Thomas. Now come on let's get you home and to bed." Thomas grinned like a little boy waiting for a cookie, "Nnnnnnowwww that'ssssssss annnnnnnnnn offffferrr I caaann't reeeefffuuuuuuusssssssssssse. I'm allllllllll yuuurs mmm'lady. Lead the wayyy." Deanna quirked an eyebrow at him and smiled. The walk to his quarters was made in comparative silence as Deanna tried to keep Thomas upright. He was more intoxicated than she had originally thought. "Come on Captain you need to be in bed. You need to sleep it off big fella." Thomas grunted as she punched in his access code, grabbed his arm and led him through his door, through the living area and into the bedroom. She pushed him down onto the edge of the bed. "Take your clothes off Imzadi you'll be more comfortable." Deanna started to walk away but he grabbed her wrist. "Aren't weeee jusss thhhe demandinnnnnnnnn sssssoooort t'night Deeannnnnaaaaaaaa. Youuu gonnnnaaa taaaaake yuuuur clothessss offff annnnn giiiittt comfyyy withhh meeeeeeee? I promissse I'lllllll beeeeeeeee aaaaaa goood boyyy." He paused, "I'll beeeeeeeeee aaaaaaa vaarrry vaarrrryyy gooood boyyy. At leeeeassssst thasss whuuut myy woooomannn sayyysss." He yanked on her wrist drawing her to and on top of him as he fell back with her onto the bed. "Youuu arrre myyy wooomannn arrrrrrrennn'ttttt youuu Deeeee?" He asked in a low, thick baritone voice as his hands pushed her dress up and began rubbing her bare ass and sliding his thick digits between her legs sliding them along her clit and over her pussy. "IIIIII'mmmmmmmmmmm glllllaaaaaaaaaddddddddd youuuuuuuuuu diiiiiidnnnnnnn't weaaaaaaarrrrrr paaaaaaaannnnnnnnttttttttttiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeessssssssss. MMMMM yuurrrrrrrrr alllllllll wettttttttttt Immmmmmzzzzzzzzzzaaaaaaaaaadiiiiiiii, youuuu neeeed a gooood fuuuuuukkkkkkiiiiiiinnnnnnn. Youuu havvve aaa greaaat assss haaasss anyone evvverrr tolllld youuu thaaat?" "Don't be silly. You know the answer to that question." Deanna took a deep breath to steady herself. "Tooo whaaat queeeestion? Thhhe niccce assss, nneeeeeeeeeed aaaaaaaaa goooooooood fuuuuuuukkkkkkkiiinn or thaaat yourrre miiinne?" He drawled. "That I'm yours Thomas. Of course I'm yours don't be ridiculous." She attempted to extricate herself from her lover but was unsuccessful. Regardless of his rather inebriated state he was still extremely strong and seemed to have enormously long octopus arms. "Prrrrrove it tooo meee then Dee, prrrrrove it tooo meee." He nuzzled into her neck. "Oooh I loooooove how yuuur hair smellssssssss." "Thomas you're drunk." "Yuuu haaavvve aaa waaay of statin thhheee obviousss Couuunseeeelor. But I'm nooottt drunnnk nnufff not tooo satisfyyyy myyyy Immmzadi." He had an evil glint in his eyes that matched the grin on his face as he brought his damp fingers up to his lips and licked them off. "MMMMMMMM ssssssssooooooooo gooooooood." Deanna relished being wrapped in his strong arms and being crushed up against his solid body. He was making a good case for himself. "I tell you what my husband, you get undressed and if you're still awake when I get back you can show me just how good you can be. I'll just be a few minutes I promise." "OooKaa." He released her and she helped him sit up and he started to disrobe. Deanna went into the bathroom and when she came out she smiled as Thomas was sprawled half on and half off the bed sleeping and snoring ever so quietly. He had one boot and sock off, his shirt off but still clutched in his right hand and his pants were unzipped and halfway down his broad sexy hips. She giggled at the sight and she finished taking the remainder of his clothing off, pushed his large body onto the bed then crawled in beside him, kissing him before laying her head on his chest and wrapping her arm around him. "Happy Birthday Imzadi may all your wishes come true. Sweet dreams my love." CHAPTER NINE Thomas awoke suddenly in the middle of the night bolting upright in bed. His head hurt like hell. His heart was nearly pounding through his chest, adrenaline pumping hard through his veins and he was drenched in sweat. "Deanna." He gasped hoarsely as he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness. He looked around taking in his surroundings and suddenly realized what he'd just experienced wasn't real, none of it was real. It was simply a nightmare, the same damned nightmare. He looked to the woman next to him hoping like hell she wasn't coherent to live the nightmare with him and he lay back down. He turned to face her inhaling her scent as he did so. Thankful he hadn't awoken her, he reached out to touch her. Needing the reassurance that she was in fact with him and breathing. He caressed her cheek and ran a gentle hand through her hair then leaned in and placed a soft feather light kiss on her lips. "Thank God." He whispered. "I don't know what I'd ever do without you." He willed his body to release the tension, it refused to relax and he didn't want to wake her so he slowly got out of bed and somewhat unsteadily headed for the bathroom. A nice hot shower would do the trick he thought. He shivered uncontrollably but he wasn't sure if it was from the Station's night air that cooled the sheen of sweat that covered his skin or from her voice that cut through the starlit room. "Imzadi, what's wrong? What is it?" Deanna was awake and she'd felt his despair and terror. Thomas' muscles tensed and he silently cursed as he turned and met her gaze. They simply stared at each other for what seemed like hours. He damned himself for waking her and he tried to hide his rampant emotions from her. His voice was hoarse and it cracked as he spoke. "Nothing's wrong. I'm sorry Deanna. I didn't mean to wake you up. Please go back to sleep. I'm just going to take a shower. I'll be back before long." Deanna didn't believe it was nothing. She'd heard and felt his very raw almost deathly worry for her. He closed his eyes to center himself knowing she was going to come to him. He could hear the sheets move on the bed as she got out of it. He braced himself for the gentle assault he knew he couldn't withstand. "Thomas, what is it? What's wrong?" Her fingers brushed lightly against his defined chest up to his cheeks to the back of his neck then along sweat-streaked shoulders and down his tension-ridden chest once again then stopped to rest on his hips. "Talk to me Imzadi." "It's nothing really." Thomas winced at her feather like touch. "Please, just go back to bed." "No Thomas. It's not nothing." She spoke ever so gently but firmly. "I don't accept that, especially when it's about me." Thomas tilted his head; shot her a narrow glance and pushed hers hands off his hips. "What? How?" Anger sparked momentarily behind his eyes, "Stay out of my head Deanna," he grated. "Thomas, you can't be serious." She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly to her. "I heard you call my name and I felt distress when I heard it." He still didn't relax so she ran her hands up and across his smooth muscled back up to his shoulders along his neck and then cupped his jaw in both hands forcing him to look straight into her eyes. "What was it, Imzadi?" Blue eyes stared defiantly into onyx. He didn't want to answer her. He didn't want to worry her with nothing but a simple nightmare. After all that was what it was a silly little nightmare. He'd had it several times before and each time it became more real than any other he'd ever had. He didn't want to alarm her. "It was nothing really Deanna just a silly dream. Probably something to do with all the drinks I had earlier." He smiled at her. "What was your nightmare about?" she asked insistently. Thomas was dumbfounded, "I didn't say it was a nightmare." "You didn't have to I knew it was." She hugged him again. "Please talk to me Thomas. What has you so distraught?" Thomas grabbed Deanna's arms to release her hold on him and walked her to the bed. He sat down on the edge pulling her along with him. He kept one of her hands clasped firmly in his and he sighed heavily before he spoke. "I've been having this reoccurring nightmare." "For how long?" "Since about a week after you left and every time I have it, well it seems to become more real."

No, we can't have the Earthlings miss the fall of their champion." He raised his hand in the air and a bubble of darkness covered the area for two miles, a distance surely sufficient enough for what he had planned. "He is still there isn't he Your defeat will be too easy if you're distracted. I would rather crush you and you be focused on it."