strangetrip | [GP] Shoot that poison arrow

None of the guests noticed when the spiky-haired man-child in jeans and purple t-shirt, wrists wrapped in cheap leather and metal bracelets, arrived at the Madonna Inn a few hours before midnight on February 13. That, in itself, wasn't all that surprising. Eros, otherwise known as Danny Valentine, had millennia of experience doing his job without being spotted.

What was surprising was that the dude at the front desk did see him. Tall and Nondescript waved him over and then gave him a room number 'in case you wanted to rest'. But Danny didn't.

Want to, or rest. He spent the time before the clock struck midnight polishing his love gun. Not like that. He'd find a girl to spend his nameday with. He always did. No, this little beauty was made by Hephaestus himself. It shot love darts that disappeared on contact.

At midnight, kitted out with more love darts than there were people in this pink and gold monstrosity, Danny left his room and shot the first person he saw--and didn't wait to see what would happen.

No point getting a slow start. He had a lot of work to do.

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The tone of her voice seemed a little strange, but since he was half upside down, he chalked it up to the interference of the bar counter and thought about her offer. It would be good to have help, but she didn't really know anything about magic and monsters that he'd figured out so far.

He came up and turned at the same time so that he was facing her when he stood. "You're good at talking to people without them getting all pissed off and suspicious. Maybe you could ask people what they experienced? If we had a better sense of what was happening, we might be able to figure out what's behind it."

Her mouth curved into a wry, flirty smile. "I'm pretty sure this is what's happening." Since he'd so accommodatingly turned around, it was easy to step forward, press herself against him and raise up on her toes. Reaching up, she linked her hands behind his head and pulled him down into a kiss.

Before he could voice the 'what's this?' that rose up, her mouth was against his and he was trying to get his feet under him to balance so that she wouldn't knock him back into the counter. She'd surprised him enough to get a good grip on him, so he went with it, wrapping his hands around her waist and drew her up to kiss her back.

This is what she'd been missing all day, kissing someone that she wanted to kiss. He was tall, really too tall in some ways but once he pulled her up everything worked out just fine. Heat surged through her as she nipped at his mouth and wrapped a leg around his hip. The bar behind him had such possibilities.

Sam hadn't planned to kiss Steph this morning, but then again, he hadn't planned to kiss anyone this morning, and he liked Steph. A lot. Enough that kissing her wouldn't have been out of the question without magic in the mix. And once they'd started, well. She was light and bendy, so he turned them around and put her against the bar with his arm behind her to protect her from it, but the other hand went to her hair, tugged down the ponytail so he could bury his hand in it.

So what if magic started it? It didn't seem like Steph minded at all. Might as well enjoy it.

The clawing need inside her didn't calm just because he had his hands on her. If anything, it was worse. The press of his body holding her against the bar, his hand in her hair, his mouth on hers - it wasn't enough. With a needy groan, Steph rolled her hips and dragged her hands down his back to grip the hem of his shirt, seeking skin.

Steph tugged on his shirt and Sam moved to let her take it--until the cool air of the nightclub brushed his skin and he opened his eyes to the light. He caught her face in both hands and kissed her again, hard. "Not here. And..."

His body was going to run riot on him but... "Not today." He wasn't going to take advantage of whatever was causing this. He wasn't going to take advantage of Steph.

Steph laughed throatily. "You don't mean that."

She turned her head, caught his thumb in her teeth, teased it with her tongue. "I can tell you don't mean that."

"I mean it." Groaning, Sam drew his thumb away from her mouth. "I don't want to mean it but I do."

He pushed a hand through his hair and turned away so he could stop looking at her mouth, all bruised and red from kisses. "It's not you talking. It's whatever's causing all of this."

Steph gripped the bar behind her when he pulled away. He was wrong. She knew what she was doing. She knew what she wanted.

Didn't she?

Of course she did. She'd already taken precautions. She'd know if she was being affected.

"I'm fine. Nothing's wrong with me."

If she wasn't, then she wouldn't still be standing here, without touching him. Without his hands on her and his body against hers. She groaned and tightened her grip on the bar.

"Have you ever wanted to be with me before today?" Sam wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer, but he also didn't want to do the equivalent of date-rape. "When did you decide this had to happen right now? Try to remember how you felt ten minutes ago. Was finding me any part of your plans?" Yeah, finding him wasn't necessarily what she'd do if she wanted him, but anything that made her think about what she had been planning was good.

He took another step back away from her. "I like you, Steph. I don't want to do anything you're going to regret."

Steph surged forward in spite of her best intentions, catching herself only because she hadn't yet let go of the bar behind her. "Yes. No. I..." she shook her head.

Ten minutes ago. She exhaled and closed her eyes, focusing on that. Ten minutes ago she'd been cleaning the restaurant, covering the plants to keep any pollen at a minimum. She'd been thinking about Henry and Dean, not Sam. Even after he'd walked in, she'd been concerned, not...this.

She'd noticed that he was hot. Of course, she'd noticed. She'd noticed the strong line of his jaw, the strength of his arms. And she wouldn't have said no if he'd ever asked. Which he hadn't. He'd kissed her because she kissed him.

"I don't know."

"Right." Which was exactly the problem.

Sam scowled at the ground and then glanced up again to look at her. "I'm not the kind of guy that people suddenly want to kiss. Dean, maybe, but not me." It wasn't self-pitying or anything. Just true. Women threw themselves at Dean. They tended to need a little time to get to know him first. "If you wanted me, you'd probably know."

Shrugging, Sam tucked his hands in his pockets. "If you still want this when whatever this is passes, we can pick it up where we left off."

Steph frowned. Dean had kissed her earlier but it hadn't been like this. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, trying to focus past the lust and remember ten minutes ago.

"I didn't want to kiss him," she said.

It wasn't helping, not looking at him. She still knew he was there. "Can you just go? I'll... come apologize later or whatever."

"Nothing to apologize for." Sam rolled one shoulder in a shrug eerily reminiscent of his grandfather and father. "It's not like I wasn't a willing participant."

But since she'd asked him to go, he didn't wait for a response before he gave her a little smile and left.

[GP] Shoot that poison arrow

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