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deanwinchesterswitch · 9 months

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The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas

Part Eight: Fancy Ties an' Granny's Pies

Square: Food Coma ~ spnchristmasbingo (2022)

Song: Mistletoe and Holly ~ Frank Sinatra

Pairing: Dean x Nicole {Nico/Nic} OFC

Summary: Making new friends leads to an emotional confession.

Warnings: Sexually suggestive flirting; Implied sex; Fluff; Melancholy-Nicole gets emotional; Mild language; Canon divergence

Word Count: 5,012

Beta: @princessmisery666

Credit: @talesmaniac89 made the wonderful title card and chapter headers.

Series Master Post

The Road So Far https://forgottenworld.travelmap.net/

Nic squints an eye open. It’s bright, too bright, and she groans, throwing an arm over her eyes to shelter them.

“Was just coming to wake you.”

The mattress dips as he sits, and she rolls to curl around him, laying her head on the knee he props on the bed. “Hmmm, so warm and solid.” Her fingers play with the material of his boxers as her eyes travel up his shirtless torso, giving him a wink.

Smoothing a hand over her hair, he chuckles, “Are you still drunk?”

“Nah.” Giving the firm flesh of his thigh a nip before rolling onto her back, “A little groggy,” she throws her arms above her head, arching her back in a full body stretch with a satisfied sigh when the facet joints crack. Flicking her tongue around her mouth, she smacks her lips together, adding, “And I think something crawled in my mouth and died. Otherwise, not bad.”

“Well, that’s appealing.”

“Isn’t it?” Puckering her lips, she reaches for him, “Give me a kiss,” but he slips from the bed with a laugh.

“Why don’t you take care of that whole,” he wiggles a finger in the air, “mouth situation, and I’ll order breakfast. Or, uh, I could serve myself up on a platter,” he taunts, with a smart-ass grin and eyes crinkled at the corners.

“Ugh,” she groans, pushing herself upright. “That’s not going to go away anytime soon, is it.”

“Nope,” he laughs.

With a deep shrug and a wink, she laughs with him, “You know what? I stand by it. My guy’s H-O-T …hot. Smokin’ hot and almost as tasty as bacon!”

“Almost? Someone need a reminder?” The challenge in his eyes, coupled with the seductive, domineering edge of his tone, sparks an answering defiance.

“Oh, someone needs a reminder, alright,” swinging her legs off the bed, she stands, dragging her fingers up his torso, “but it’s not me. I think,” she pinches a pert nipple, eliciting a hiss, “you need to be reminded,” her nails scrape up and over his shoulder, as she glides around behind him, “of exactly who is in charge this time.”

His hands fist at his sides, muscles roll and flex beneath her fingertips as she rakes them down his back, but he remains silent. Massaging an ass cheek before giving it a firm whack, she dances away, laughing as she calls over her shoulder, “Order breakfast while I’m in the bathroom, and then we’ll see about that taste test. Oh, and Dean,” she waits for him to turn, “please order extra bacon. We’re going to need it.”

His hushed ‘Fuck me’ makes her chuckle as she closes the bathroom door behind her.

Nicole looks up at Dean, chewing the piece of bacon he places on her tongue, using his thighs as leverage to push up on her knees. With a hum and a sweet smile, she swallows the tasty morsel, “I don’t know,” fingers curling into his flesh, her head tilts in contemplation, “it’s a tough call. Both are just so …yummy.”

Dean’s grunt of disapproval makes her giggle, and she places a quick peck on the top of a thigh, scraping a nail down the length of his other. “I think I need to gather more data.”

“Well,” he reaches over for another slice of bacon from the tray on the side table, “you better get to it then,” before settling back into the couch cushions and spreading his legs a little bit wider.

“You ready to go yet?” he calls from the living room a while later. “Daylight’s burning.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get your panties in a wad,” she chides, fastening her necklace as she walks into the room. “Why are you in such a rush? Thought you didn’t want to go.”

Dean shrugs as she steps up next to him. “Changed my mind.”

“Uh huh, and why is that?” With a sheepish grin, he hands over his phone. Staring at an image of a table full of pies, she asks, “What am I looking at?”

“I looked up the festival, and there are a bunch of beer and food vendors. One of them is a pie shop.”

“Ah, I see.” It’s tough, and his big cheesy grin doesn’t help, but Nic holds back the laugh that threatens to burst from her chest and pouts. “So, it’s not about wanting to spend time with your adorably awesome and oh-so-loving girlfriend. It’s about getting buzzed on craft beers and scarfing down pie.”

“Not true.” Slinking an arm around her, he roughly pulls her against him, burying his face in her neck, nipping and licking the tender flesh. “It’s about enjoying all three of my favorite food groups.” Sharp teeth gently tug on her earlobe as he pulls away.

Smacking his arm, she giggles. “Well, after that amazing breakfast you served me, I suppose I could return the favor with a special treat and nightcap later.”

“That’s my girl,” he cheers, smacking her ass, “now let’s get this show on the road.”

As they exit the elevator into the lobby, Nic asks, “You want to drive today?”

“Seriously?” Dean looks like she just handed him a giant rainbow slinky, and she can’t help the giddiness that bubbles inside her.

“Yeah. As much as I love being in control, it does feel weird doing all the driving. Besides, I want to look at your pictures from yesterday.”

Once they’re on the road, she pulls out her laptop, wiggling in the seat until she’s comfortable as his latest pictures load. When she gasps, Dean glances over, ready to ask what’s wrong, but she raises a hand to forestall any questioning.

A few minutes pass as she scrolls through the images and then whispers, ‘Wow’, before falling silent again. After another ten miles of silence, he can’t take it anymore and nervously asks, ”That bad?”

“Bad? Hardly,” she chuckles, finally looking at him. “These are wonderful. You’re a quick study.” Dean’s ears tip pink, but his smile is broad, and she can’t help but reach over and give his arm a comforting pat.

“Yeah?” His tone is doubtful. Face pinched in uncertainty.

“Oh!” She clicks her tongue and sits up a little straighter, a wide grin parting her lips as she starts typing.

Curiosity piqued when she starts humming to herself, he leans to the side, trying to see what has her so excited while keeping one eye on the road. “What are you doing?”

Without looking at him, she lightly pats his cheek, nearly poking his eye out while pushing his face away. “Watch the road. I’ll show you when we get there.”

Thankfully, it’s a short drive, and he doesn’t have to wait long. However, sitting in the parking lot, Dean squirms with anticipation when she fails to acknowledge they’ve reached their destination.

“You’re worse than a two-year-old,” she huffs, finally looking up from the computer, a teasing smile meeting his sullen pout.

Gesturing toward the park and rows of vendor booths beyond the windshield, he whines, “Food. Beer.”

“Chill, dude. I’m sure there are still plenty of pies and alcohol to stuff in those adorable cheeks and fill this bottomless pit.” With a wink, she pokes him in the belly, receiving an epic bitchface as he swats her hand away.

Ignoring the remark, he asks, “You gonna tell me what you’ve been doing?” pointing a finger at her laptop.

“Oh, yeah!” Placing the device on the console between them, she takes him through the online travel journal she created to showcase his pictures of their trip. “What do you think?”

“It’s a- a cool site, but what do we need it for? We can look at the pictures anytime we want and already know where we’ve been.”

“Well, I was hoping you’d be okay with me sharing it on my blog. I won’t be posting every picture you take, just some highlights. It will be a little memento of our journey, like a digital scrapbook. Plus, it will showcase your photos. You never know where that might lead.”

He runs a hand over his thigh, the other clenching around the steering wheel. “Uh, I don’t know. They’re not that good, and we are still hunters. Still need to stay under the radar.” Pursing his lips, he mentally catalogs all the ways this could backfire. “Why would anybody want to read about our trip?”

Nicole understands his hesitancy. She had a bit of a meltdown after sharing her first works online. He’s probably thinking about those damn Edlund books too. “Hey, I won’t post them if you don’t want me to. It’s just a fun little way to share our experience with others. A chance to share your unique perspective, like we discussed.”

If he chose to pursue a career in the field, there’s no doubt he’d be amazing at it.

“But, speaking professionally, and not as your girlfriend, these photos are very good. Yeah, the first ones are a little rough, but you can already see your progress.”

The tightness in his body eases as she continues. “Not everyone will be interested, but there will be people that will enjoy following along. Maybe they want to gain insight into a place they’ve never been or hope to travel to someday. Or they want a reminder of a favorite spot, see what your take is on a place they’re familiar with. Some just like sharing the joy in someone else’s adventures, and a few simply like being nosey. We won’t post pictures with any identifying features in them.”

Dean bobs his head, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. “No names? No faces?”

“You know I don’t use my real name on my blog. I’m not going to start now.” Eyeing him with barely contained enthusiasm, she adds, “No personal details whatsoever, all metadata removed.”

“You really think they’re good enough for your site?”

Expelling an exaggerated breath, she rolls her eyes. “Do you remember my first photos? The first pieces of jewelry I made years ago that are now shoved away in that box?” A smirk forms, and he opens his mouth. “Eh!” she cautions, holding up a finger. “Don’t say a word. My point is no one starts out an expert. But yes, these are fabulous pictures. You should be proud of them."

The cheeky smile remains as he ultimately relents. “Fine. But I get the final say on what’s posted. Like, uh, what’s the deal with this one of the bartender?” The smile shifts, lips twisting and pursing as he reads her comment. “Really?” Brows knitting together, he side-eyes her. “You thought he was ‘incredibly charming’?”

Excited as she is about him agreeing to share his photos, it’s hard to contain as she explains, “He was! Oh, and did you know that his wife Abbey is one of the distillers?” Dean's features ease at the mention that Marcus is married, and Nic suppresses the giggle bubbling in her throat at his snit of jealousy. “She created one of the signature whiskeys for the season’s Distiller’s Cut.”

“Oh, yeah! She was nice, and that was the whiskey in my drink, right?” His smile is contrite but more relaxed, and he refrains from saying more about her comments in the posts. He kisses her forehead, then sighs, “Alright, show me how to do this.”

“Well, I already have everything set up for the past few days,” Nic scrolls through the site to show him the images she’s uploaded, “all you need to do is click here to share the link. Tomorrow, we can update the journal together so you can see how it works. You good with that?”

“Works for me.” After sharing the link, he slips the laptop under his seat and pulls the keys from the ignition. “Alright, let’s get some grub.”

Head resting on his shoulder, Nicole snuggles in closer to his warmth, thankful she’d brought her jacket. It’s still much warmer than back home, but the temperature has dropped to align more with the season. Since Dean ignored her advice to bring one, she’d bought him a hoodie from one of the brewery stalls that also carried branded merchandise. He’d flipped for their signature stout and signed them up for the company’s membership program with a promise to visit the brewery in the spring.

After nearly putting himself into a food coma with a metric ton of carb-filled fried foods, they found a bench away from the main throng of people, watching the sun sink lower in the orange-washed sky.

The rumble beneath her palm resting over his belly is a warning, and she quickly sits up out of the path of the loud belch he emits. Crinkling her nose when she catches the tail end of it, she waves a hand in front of her face. “Geezus, Dean!”

“Sorry,” he chuckles, giving her a sheepish grin.

“Well, I guess I should be thankful that it’s not as bad as Sam after one of his monster burritos.” His laugh is loud and boisterous, and Nic snorts, causing a few people to turn their heads, but neither of them notices. Laughter fading, she pats his stomach. “Is there room for pie now?”

“Phfft, of course!” he huffs, rolling his eyes and feigning shock. “You doubt that I would have room for pie? You wound me.”

“How imprudent of me,” she teases back.

Dean’s features soften as he brushes his thumb over her chin before picking up her hand and kissing the back of it. “Thank you.” Another kiss to her hand, and she curls her fingers into his. “Thank you for planning this trip and for always supporting me.”

Heart doing a little fluttery thing in her chest, she leans forward to kiss him but is abruptly forestalled when he turns his head to the side to let out another burp. Exhaling in disgust, she sits back. “Way to ruin the moment, dude.”

“I’m sorry,” cupping her face in his palms, he pulls her in to kiss her forehead, “again.”

Hand on his chest, she pushes him away and stands. “C’mon, let’s go get your pie.” Dean grips her hand with exuberant delight as he walks beside her.

They don’t have to wait in line long at Granny’s Pies. The crowds have thinned around the vendors’ booths as people make their way to the center of the marketplace, where the massive 35-foot tree is ready to be illuminated.

While Dean decides which twelve slices he wants for his diabetes-inducing sugar fest, aptly named the Confectionery Coma Sampler, Nicole peruses the selection of ties in the adjacent booth. She hums in admiration, picking up a burgundy tonal abstract number and sliding the soft, satiny finish over her palm.

“Excellent choice.” Nic looks up to find an older woman approaching her from the right. “Is it for that tall drink of water?”

Nic chokes on a laugh as the woman wiggles her eyebrows and tilts her head in Dean’s direction. It takes a moment to compose herself, but Nic finally responds, shooting a fond smile toward Dean. “Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

“Well, I’m guessing he looks good in just about any color,” the woman hums in approval before looking back to Nicole with a smile, then thumbs over her shoulder. “I got one of my own. Forty-two years last month.”

Nic looks to the back of the booth to find a tall, distinguished-looking gray-haired man rearranging a display of pocket squares, who gives her a cheeky smile and a wink when they make eye contact. When he joins them, he swats the woman on her ass, and she snorts, backhanding his chest while chastising. “Bill, behave.”

“Well, that’s no fun, darlin’. But I suppose, since we have a customer, I’ll try and contain myself.” His hand moves to the small of her back, but the smirk remains on his lips.

The sense that she’s looking at an older version of Dean and herself washes over Nicole in a swell of emotion, and she can’t help the smile that spreads over her face. Being reminded that they now have a chance to grow old together—live a life outside of all the darkness and suffering—unexpectedly fills her with undiluted happiness, and she reaches over to hug the woman.

“Oh, my.” The woman pats her on the back. “You alright, dear?”

Nic steps back in shock, swiping a tear from her cheek. “Wow, uh, I’m so sorry. I, uhm, I don’t know what …why I did that.”

Taking another step back, she stumbles over a booted foot. With cat-like reflexes, Dean lifts the large box of treats he’s carrying above their heads and moves in close behind to support her body as she falls into his chest while Bill’s calloused but warm fingers grip her elbows to keep her from toppling to the side.

“You alright?” the men ask simultaneously.

Sucking in a breath, Nicole nods, tucking her chin in embarrassment. Dean twists to set the box on the table next to them, then gently grips her shoulders.

Bill releases his hold, “Ellie, would you grab the girl some water?” and steps away.

Turning her to face him, Dean brushes his fingers over her forehead and down her cheek, not so discreetly checking her temp, and Nic tilts her head back to smile up at him. “I’m okay.”

The twist of his lips and arched brow lets her know that he doesn’t believe her, but he nods, accepting her assurance—at least for now.

“Here you go, sweetie.” Ellie rubs a hand over her back. “You sure you’re alright? You want to sit down for a minute?”

“Thank you, but I’m fine. Really.” Dean’s hands drop to lightly grasp her around the waist as she takes the proffered bottle of water, drinking half of the cool liquid in one go. Resting a hand on Dean’s forearm, she hands him the bottle and turns out of his hold, looking to Ellie, “I’m sorry for creating such a commotion.” Her gaze flicks to Bill, then back to Ellie. “You just reminded me of something …someone, and it took me by surprise.”

After a few more minutes of fussing, Nic’s had enough and goes for a distraction tactic. Locating the burgundy tie she’d dropped, she holds it up for Dean to see. “What do you think?”

He’s still eyeing her like she will keel over any second but hums, “Nice.” Nic smiles, pulling out her wallet, wanting to pay for the item and make a break from the scrutiny, when he interjects, “But I don’t need fancy ties anymore. You know, with the shift in work and all.”

The pouty scrunch of her face quickly shifts into a smirk when she spots a cobalt blue gradient striped silk. “Who said,” slinking back over to him, she lifts his hands, “they’re for your neck,” then wraps the material around his wrists, “when they’ll look even prettier, here? Oh, look at that.” Pushing up onto her toes, she purrs into his ear, “You know how sexy I think you look in blue.”

Giving him a smug smile as she steps back, she silently congratulates herself on a successful mission. She knows that typically, he would turn the tables with a dirty little comeback, but since they’re amongst strangers, he’s not so bold, and she delights in the outcome. A dark pink flush creeps up Dean’s neck to the tips of his ears, his mouth gaping like a fish out of water.

Bill roars, doubling over with laughter as Ellie giggles beside him. Nicole joins in on their merriment as Dean shakes the material from around him, tossing the strip of cloth at her with a gruff, “Get that one too,” as he turns to pick up his sampler of pies.

She does indeed purchase that one, along with the burgundy abstract and another dark blue silk with tiny white and gray squares. The older couple obliges in letting her take a couple of photos, and she even convinces Dean to join them for a selfie of the four of them after promising not to post it online.

The rest of the evening is spent watching the tree lighting ceremony, dancing to the music of the local bands that grace the concert stage, and enjoying the time together. They run into Bill and Ellie as they stroll through the light display walk, and Bill invites them for a drink at his friend’s bar.

One drink leads to two, then three, and before long, the two couples are sharing stories of their lives, laughing and marveling at the similarities of their relationship progression. Nic bites back tears on more than one occasion, but as the night draws to a close, she can’t hide them any longer.

Stretched out in the booth, she leans back against Dean, relaxed and sated by good food, alcohol, and even better company. Dean’s arm is draped over her shoulder, their fingers entwined as their other hands rest on the table. His chest's steady rise and fall and the low rumble when he speaks lull her into peaceful contentment.

The men are debating the merits of the Shelby GT350 when Nic brings Dean’s hand to her lips, kissing each knuckle, and he pauses to kiss the top of her head. Ellie chuckles, and Nic turns to smile at her new friend. “You two remind me of a younger version of us.” Setting a hand over Bill’s, she gives him a loving smile when he turns to place a kiss on her forehead.

Nic sucks in a breath and tears well. Dean’s entire body tenses behind hers, immediately sensing her distress. She drops her free hand to his thigh, giving it a squeeze of assurance, but there will be no escaping an explanation this time. He is already pulling her in closer as he sits up straighter.

“I’m so sorry. Did I say something wrong, sweetie?” The degree of concern marring her countenance for someone she barely knows sends Nic over the edge.

“No. No, you didn’t- I-” Tears spill down her cheeks, her body shaking as she struggles to get her emotions in check. Dean’s arm lands across her lap, releasing her hand to cradle the back of her head as she rests her forehead against his jaw. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Bill pushing a stack of napkins in her direction and grapples for one, steadying her breathing as she cleans her face. Dean murmurs in her ear, hand running over her thigh soothingly.

When she feels calm enough to speak, she kisses Dean’s cheek and shifts to face the couple across from them. Reaching for Ellie’s hand, Nic shares a shaky smile. “I’m sorry. I’m not usually such an emotional wreck. What you said about- about us reminding you of yourselves,” her fingers flutter, and Ellie grips tighter in support, “that’s the same thought I had earlier. That- that while watching you, I was looking at an older version of Dean and myself.” The cork has been popped, and now everything is spilling over.

Leaning forward, her other hand grips one of Bill’s. “Dean and I-” he smiles encouragingly when she glances at him over her shoulder. Being the amazing man he is, he nods approval, a sense of understanding for what she’s about to share. She mouths, ‘I love you’ before turning back around.

“The …jobs Dean and I had before were dangerous, sometimes extremely so. A couple of times, I nearly lo- lost him.” Dean’s hand strokes over her spine when she chokes on the last words. With a deep exhale, she forges on. “For years, it was a constant teeter-totter of worrying about what might happen and trying to live in the moment. Enjoy the time we had together. Always the possibility that any given day was the last one we had. I know that’s still a possibility, but what we did, the cases we took on, made that a bigger threat—almost a certainty. I tried not to let myself dream of a future because I was never sure we’d have one. At least, not to- together.” Dean shifts in his seat, hand stalling on the small of her back.

A barrage of questions will be headed her way when they are alone, but now that she’s voiced it, the weight it held eases, and she’s thrilled to let it go.

“This trip, it’s the first time in years that we haven’t been looking over our shoulder, wondering what big bad thing is headed our way next. I haven’t fallen asleep terrified that tomorrow we’ll share our last kiss, that the other shoe will drop, and my life will be torn to pieces.” Both Bill and Ellie’s fingers tighten around hers, and she gives them a watery smile. “Dean mentioned earlier that things had recently changed for us, and they have. Our lives are much calmer now. But watching you two, seeing the connection, the teasing, and the love you share, kicked something loose. It reminded me that we-” Pulling her hands free, she turns and cradles Dean’s face in her palms. “We have a chance. A chance for a long, long life together.”

A single tear slips over his lashes as his arms encircle her, crushing her against his chest. Face smashed against his neck and hands trapped between their bodies, she can only hum agreement when he whispers, “We’re going to talk about this later.”

Bill clears his throat, “Well, that was a lot. You gonna be okay, darlin’?” The deep, rich timbre of his voice is distinctive but so similar to Dean’s that it fills her with unutterable serenity. It wouldn’t take a huge stretch to imagine them as father and son.

Whoa, okay. That was an odd thought—time for some sleep.

Nicole chuckles, pushing against Dean. “Yeah. I'm sorry. I’m sure when you woke up this morning, you didn’t say, “Ellie, let’s spend our evening with some stranger spilling her emotional baggage to us.”

As everyone chuckles, Dean scrubs a hand over his face, Nic gathers a wad of napkins to dry hers, and Ellie tuts, “We’re not strangers. Not anymore. I’m honored that you felt comfortable enough to share that. And I can see that it made you feel better.” She slides out of the booth, and Nic does the same, meeting her for a hug.

Both men follow to stand beside them. Bill claps Dean on the shoulder as they shake hands, “Good to meet ya, son. You take good care of your girl.”

“You too, sir. And I will.” Exchanging a warm smile, they mimic each other, placing an arm around the waist of their respective partners.

Nic gives Ellie another quick hug and a quiet thank you, hesitating for only a moment before throwing her arms around Bill’s waist to give him a quick squeeze. Chuckling, he smooths a hand over her hair, “You two be safe out there.”

Sensing Nic is about to burst into tears again, Dean bids the couple a Merry Christmas, promising they will come back to visit soon, and steers her toward the exit.

“You said Merry Christmas.” Nic sing-songs the words as they walk toward the parking lot, the grin she wears nearly splitting her face.

“What?”

Turning to walk backward in front of him, she playfully pokes him in the chest, reiterating with glee, “You wished Bill and Ellie a Merry Christmas!”

“I- uh,” his forehead creases, eyes flicking left, then right, eyebrows popping before stammering, “Yeah, well, what of it? I was just …being polite. No need to make a big deal about it.”

While she doesn’t want to push too hard, inside, she is bursting with joy. With a jump, she wraps her arms around his neck and hoists her legs up around his waist. Unprepared, Dean stumbles, arms instinctively encircling her, body twisting slightly to take the brunt of the fall if needed. He manages to keep them upright, as well as hold onto her keys while she peppers his face with kisses. “I love you. And I love your sweet, soft center, Mr. Tough-guy.”

Dean grunts, pressing the key fob as they approach the car, bringing the Jeep to life. She starts to untangle herself from around him, but he traps her between the car door and his body. “So you didn’t think we had a future together?”

Nic blinks, trying to catch up with the shift. The tension in his body, the specter of pain that never quite leaves his eyes becoming brighter, makes her insides twist with anguish.

She runs a thumb over his brow, then cups the back of his neck. “Of course, I knew we would be together. It was always about the time. About not having enough of it because even if I get a hundred years more with you, it will never be enough.” Pulling him in for a kiss, she slips her other hand beneath the hoodie and t-shirt to find warm flesh.

His chest vibrates as he moans, hands gliding up her sides as she drops her legs from his waist to straddle a muscled thigh. Her fingers play at the waistband of his jeans, and his tongue brushes along her bottom lip, but Nic breaks the kiss, “Did you hear that?”

“Nico-” he groans.

“Shush!” Grabbing the keys from him, she turns off the car and wriggles free. Walking to the edge of the parking lot, she spins, straining to hear the sound again. A cry comes from her left, and she takes off with Dean hot on her heels.

“Hold up!”

Rounding the corner of a small utility shed, Dean crashes into her, nearly sending her sprawling when she stops without warning. Grabbing the back of her jacket, he steadies them both and peaks over her head. “Well, son of a bitch! Is that-”

“It’s a baby!” Slipping from his grasp, she rushes toward the car seat holding the infant.

“Nicole, wait!”

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#spnchristmasbingo #food coma #tgwrc: part eight #073023 #dw's witch writes

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