Emily (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2009-06-29 02:24 pm
iluvroadrunner6) wrote2009-06-29 02:24 pm
Dean/Lisa - Best Night of my Life
Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Best Night of my Life
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
iluvroadrunner6
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Lisa Braedan, various OCs, implied Dean/Lisa
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
15pairings Prompt: 4. Practice makes perfect
Content Warning: N/A
Summary: The mom had to get the story about Dean from somewhere.
Author’s Note: …I wrote Dean/Lisa. From Lisa’s POV. This is—a little odd.
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Kripke and the CW. Not me. Please don’t sue.
Most moms didn’t want to say that Lisa Braedan was the talk of the play group, but it really was the truth. Single moms, with no word on the dads in this particular part of Indiana? Something a bit akin to scandal. But Lisa was a good mother, and it was clear that Ben was her entire world, and they all got along with her relatively well—with the exception of the fact that she was tighter lipped than they were when it came to more—adult—conversations.
Marianne had a relatively easy solution to that one.
The Cicero mothers had come up with the idea of a “book club” that wasn’t really a book club around the time they realized that they needed a break from the husbands and kids to talk about things that weren’t children’s toys and electric bills. They didn’t actually read a book, more like worked their way through a bottle of wine and chatted about anything and everything. It really hadn’t taken much to convince Lisa to join them—arranging a sleepover for Ben, a bit of careful persuasion, and a few glasses of Jennifer’s best chardonnay and the other mother was feeling a little more receptive. As was everyone, in fact—she wasn’t the only one drinking.
“Alright, alright,” Shelley said with a bit of a grin. The comments had been getting a little racy, and there was a lot of laughter and comfort in the room. She pointed her index finger up in the air, starting to wiggle it around a bit before pointing over in Lisa’s direction. “Your turn, Ms. Braedan.”
“Me?” Lisa looked a little shocked, and the other women could almost swear she was blushing. “Oh, no—I shouldn’t. I mean, I can’t, I just—”
“Oh, come on!” Marianne chided. “The kids aren’t here, you’re not going to see him till tomorrow morning—tell us!”
“Oh, God,” Lisa sighed, covering her face with one hand. “But seriously? This?”
“You can’t hold out on us now,” Shelley said with a firm look. “You were a yoga teacher. You must have a ton of tantric sexual experiences that you’re holding out on us. All we’re asking is about one.” Lisa still looked hesitant, and Shelley was getting impatient. “Come on, Lisa. Best night of your life. Go.”
“Alright, alright, alright,” she sighed, taking long gulp of her wine before leaning back in the seat. “His name was Dean. I met him at a biker bar—”
“A biker bar?” Marianne interrupted.
“I had a type, okay?” Lisa said with a bit of a laugh, but she was starting to loosen up a bit, much to the pleasure of the other women around her. “Anyway—he had a great ass, along with this gorgeous classic Chevy Impala, and even happened to be relatively charming, so—”
“You did him on the hood of the car?” one of the other moms interjected, and that managed to get Lisa to blush even more before shaking her head with a sheepish grin.
“No, though I don’t think he would have objected.” Lisa sighed slightly, before continuing. “Anyway, as I said I had a type. And he did this thing, with his tongue and well—needless to say, I thought I was just getting a quickie in the back of his car, he wound up staying the weekend. In fact, he insisted on it. Practice makes perfect and all that.”
“We so need more than that,” Amanda said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Details, woman!”
“Yes, this thing, with his tongue,” Shelley smirked. “How did that work exactly?”
Lisa glanced at them for a moment. “You’re serious?”
“Hell yes, we are,” Marianne replied. “Bill and I haven’t had sex in—a month? Maybe two? I’m living vicariously through you, sweetheart.”
There was other murmurs of agreement, and Lisa sighed, before shaking her head slightly. “I’m gonna need more wine for this.”
“Here,” Shelley smirked, picking up the bottle and starting to pour her another glass. “Let me help you with that.”
A few glasses later, she was spilling exactly what it was Dean had done with his tongue, as well as a few other details that Dean might not have wanted other people to know, had he actually been in the room. The other members of the group were staring at her, shell shocked. “Okay,” Marianne sighed. “Clearly they need to clone this man, and sell him for personal use. I mean, damn.”
“Yup,” Lisa said lazily. “Now you can see why he stayed the weekend.”
“I can’t see why he only stayed the weekend,” Shelley said pointedly. “You should have tied that man down, Lisa.”
At that, she gave a bit of a half-shrug, her mind seemingly going elsewhere for a moment. “He said he had a job to do. And I was young then—I wasn’t looking to be tied down either. Then came Ben, and—well, he’s my world. Nothing I can do to change anything now.”
“Uh-huh,” Shelley sighed, before turning to look at her again. “Alright, Biker Girl. Got any other stories meant to thrill middle aged women?”
Lisa looked at them for a minute, before laughing and shaking her head. “Another night, ladies. Another night.”
***
There were things she hadn’t said, and on some level, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to admit. She had been rather vague about whether or not Ben was Dean’s kid, and she refused to give anything more definitive. When Dean asked was the first time she had outright said no, and made up some kind of story about a blood test to keep him from feeling that he was obligated to stay. Because he wasn’t, not really. She’d made it just fine without Dean Winchester in her life so far, she was pretty sure she could make it a little while longer.
“It’s not my life, and it never will be.”
There was something about the way he talked to her that let her know that something, on some level, was wrong. Something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, and she would be willing to fix, if she could. She didn’t know how, but she was at least willing to try and she was sure that somewhere, that counted for something.
She tucked Ben into bed that night before crawling into her own and for the first time in eight years she realized how lonely that was. How much she wouldn’t have minded having someone strong and solid to curl up next to her. And how much Ben really was going to need a father. But she also knew that Dean had pretty much said that he couldn’t stay, along with how, in the same breath, he would have been proud to have been Ben’s father. And she wanted to tell him maybe. Maybe he was. But she just couldn’t.
She lay on her side, staring at the empty space in the bed next to her, and instead she saw the shape of the man who should be there. The thoughts entered her head before she could even stop them from forming, how maybe this wasn’t his life, but it could be. He didn’t have to say never. He didn’t even have to be perfect, either. She was making this up as she went along half the time anyway. But what was done was done. And knowing her luck, she was never going to see Dean Winchester again.
And for some reason, that upset her more than it should.
Title: Best Night of my Life
Author:
iluvroadrunner6Rating: PG-13
Characters: Lisa Braedan, various OCs, implied Dean/Lisa
15pairings Prompt: 4. Practice makes perfectContent Warning: N/A
Summary: The mom had to get the story about Dean from somewhere.
Author’s Note: …I wrote Dean/Lisa. From Lisa’s POV. This is—a little odd.
Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Kripke and the CW. Not me. Please don’t sue.
Most moms didn’t want to say that Lisa Braedan was the talk of the play group, but it really was the truth. Single moms, with no word on the dads in this particular part of Indiana? Something a bit akin to scandal. But Lisa was a good mother, and it was clear that Ben was her entire world, and they all got along with her relatively well—with the exception of the fact that she was tighter lipped than they were when it came to more—adult—conversations.
Marianne had a relatively easy solution to that one.
The Cicero mothers had come up with the idea of a “book club” that wasn’t really a book club around the time they realized that they needed a break from the husbands and kids to talk about things that weren’t children’s toys and electric bills. They didn’t actually read a book, more like worked their way through a bottle of wine and chatted about anything and everything. It really hadn’t taken much to convince Lisa to join them—arranging a sleepover for Ben, a bit of careful persuasion, and a few glasses of Jennifer’s best chardonnay and the other mother was feeling a little more receptive. As was everyone, in fact—she wasn’t the only one drinking.
“Alright, alright,” Shelley said with a bit of a grin. The comments had been getting a little racy, and there was a lot of laughter and comfort in the room. She pointed her index finger up in the air, starting to wiggle it around a bit before pointing over in Lisa’s direction. “Your turn, Ms. Braedan.”
“Me?” Lisa looked a little shocked, and the other women could almost swear she was blushing. “Oh, no—I shouldn’t. I mean, I can’t, I just—”
“Oh, come on!” Marianne chided. “The kids aren’t here, you’re not going to see him till tomorrow morning—tell us!”
“Oh, God,” Lisa sighed, covering her face with one hand. “But seriously? This?”
“You can’t hold out on us now,” Shelley said with a firm look. “You were a yoga teacher. You must have a ton of tantric sexual experiences that you’re holding out on us. All we’re asking is about one.” Lisa still looked hesitant, and Shelley was getting impatient. “Come on, Lisa. Best night of your life. Go.”
“Alright, alright, alright,” she sighed, taking long gulp of her wine before leaning back in the seat. “His name was Dean. I met him at a biker bar—”
“A biker bar?” Marianne interrupted.
“I had a type, okay?” Lisa said with a bit of a laugh, but she was starting to loosen up a bit, much to the pleasure of the other women around her. “Anyway—he had a great ass, along with this gorgeous classic Chevy Impala, and even happened to be relatively charming, so—”
“You did him on the hood of the car?” one of the other moms interjected, and that managed to get Lisa to blush even more before shaking her head with a sheepish grin.
“No, though I don’t think he would have objected.” Lisa sighed slightly, before continuing. “Anyway, as I said I had a type. And he did this thing, with his tongue and well—needless to say, I thought I was just getting a quickie in the back of his car, he wound up staying the weekend. In fact, he insisted on it. Practice makes perfect and all that.”
“We so need more than that,” Amanda said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Details, woman!”
“Yes, this thing, with his tongue,” Shelley smirked. “How did that work exactly?”
Lisa glanced at them for a moment. “You’re serious?”
“Hell yes, we are,” Marianne replied. “Bill and I haven’t had sex in—a month? Maybe two? I’m living vicariously through you, sweetheart.”
There was other murmurs of agreement, and Lisa sighed, before shaking her head slightly. “I’m gonna need more wine for this.”
“Here,” Shelley smirked, picking up the bottle and starting to pour her another glass. “Let me help you with that.”
A few glasses later, she was spilling exactly what it was Dean had done with his tongue, as well as a few other details that Dean might not have wanted other people to know, had he actually been in the room. The other members of the group were staring at her, shell shocked. “Okay,” Marianne sighed. “Clearly they need to clone this man, and sell him for personal use. I mean, damn.”
“Yup,” Lisa said lazily. “Now you can see why he stayed the weekend.”
“I can’t see why he only stayed the weekend,” Shelley said pointedly. “You should have tied that man down, Lisa.”
At that, she gave a bit of a half-shrug, her mind seemingly going elsewhere for a moment. “He said he had a job to do. And I was young then—I wasn’t looking to be tied down either. Then came Ben, and—well, he’s my world. Nothing I can do to change anything now.”
“Uh-huh,” Shelley sighed, before turning to look at her again. “Alright, Biker Girl. Got any other stories meant to thrill middle aged women?”
Lisa looked at them for a minute, before laughing and shaking her head. “Another night, ladies. Another night.”
***
There were things she hadn’t said, and on some level, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to admit. She had been rather vague about whether or not Ben was Dean’s kid, and she refused to give anything more definitive. When Dean asked was the first time she had outright said no, and made up some kind of story about a blood test to keep him from feeling that he was obligated to stay. Because he wasn’t, not really. She’d made it just fine without Dean Winchester in her life so far, she was pretty sure she could make it a little while longer.
“It’s not my life, and it never will be.”
There was something about the way he talked to her that let her know that something, on some level, was wrong. Something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on, and she would be willing to fix, if she could. She didn’t know how, but she was at least willing to try and she was sure that somewhere, that counted for something.
She tucked Ben into bed that night before crawling into her own and for the first time in eight years she realized how lonely that was. How much she wouldn’t have minded having someone strong and solid to curl up next to her. And how much Ben really was going to need a father. But she also knew that Dean had pretty much said that he couldn’t stay, along with how, in the same breath, he would have been proud to have been Ben’s father. And she wanted to tell him maybe. Maybe he was. But she just couldn’t.
She lay on her side, staring at the empty space in the bed next to her, and instead she saw the shape of the man who should be there. The thoughts entered her head before she could even stop them from forming, how maybe this wasn’t his life, but it could be. He didn’t have to say never. He didn’t even have to be perfect, either. She was making this up as she went along half the time anyway. But what was done was done. And knowing her luck, she was never going to see Dean Winchester again.
And for some reason, that upset her more than it should.