Current mood:	pissed off
Current music:	Marilyn Manson - This Is Halloween
Entry tags:	crossover, dark angel, supernatural

Apology Accepted
Title: Apology Accepted
Author: windout
Pairing: Sam/Max if you squint real hard
Rating: PG-13 (suggestive situations)
Word Count: 899
Genre: Revenge smut
Summary: After Max leaves Sam handcuffed to a table in a diner, payback is in order.
A/N: Un-beta'd. Based off a SPN/DA rp I'm in where Max went and chained Sam to a table so that she could theoretically "save" him. It was then suggested that I write the aftermath, so I did, from every POV but the character I play. Excellent huh?



“I said I was sorry!” Max snapped. “I ain’t gonna say it again, because now you’re just bein’ stubborn about it.”

“If I honestly cared about apologies, don’t you think I might have accepted them by now?” Sam asked, circling the girl with long, careful footsteps. It was a practiced and fluid grace; he looked almost as though he had a bit of cat in him himself. When he trained his green eyes on Max, they were calm, alert, and very dark.

“Whatcha gonna do about it then? Punish me?”

“Depends. I’m not going to hurt you, if that’s what you mean. Exact revenge? Yeah…” Sam moved in close, his shoulder brushing her back as he continued his circling. When he had finally moved around back in front of Max again, he smiled. It wasn’t a quick, shy flashing of teeth, or one of his famous boyish grins. It was a smirk that pulled at the corners of his mouth, thinning the lips and narrowing the eyes.

“Yeah, well, you’re gonna have to catch me.” Max took a step around Sam, but she didn’t expect Sam to actually try to keep her in place. His fist wrapped around her wrist was a lot stronger than she gave him credit for, but nothing she couldn’t handle. Before she could shake him off, he produced a pair of handcuffs.

The ratchet sound of the cuff snapping into place momentarily stunned her. What was this crazy idiot thinking? She could easily take him if she had half a mind, and he was getting very close to setting her over the edge. But Sam just continued smirking as he flung the other cuff around one of the iron posts lining the porch and snapped the cuff around her other wrist.

“You’re crazy. You’re a regular loony,” Max snarled. “You got any idea what you’re doin’?”

“I’ve got an idea or two.” At least Sam had stopped circling; he settled instead for standing close by, but out of reach of any elbows or legs. “You see…you don’t just kiss and run, and apologize as you walk out the door. That’s not fair at all. It’s belittling, degrading…”

“At least I didn’t tease you.” Max yanked at the chain and smirked when the post clanged loudly in the dark forest. She wouldn’t be held for long.

“No? That kiss was completely innocent?” Sam suddenly pressed in close, his abs flush against her back. The contact worried the cat in her, but his breath, hot and sultry in her ear, worried her more. “There was…nothing in that kiss?”

Her attempt at escape was completely forgotten for the moment. All that existed was his body heat against her spine and the condensation building on the shell of her ear. He kissed her then, gently, on her neck, just beneath the earlobe. Sam kissed his way down to where her neck joined her shoulder, sometimes using his teeth to get a rise out of her. She wasn’t even in heat, but she could feel the warmth curling and writhing in her belly already. Her eyes slipped closed as she took a deep breath.

When Sam bent his head to apply several rough licks to her collarbone, Max couldn’t help it. She squirmed. As Sam ran his callused hand up the other side of her neck to thread his fingers in her hair and cup her head, he planted a firm kiss on the underside of her jaw. She moaned.

“You enjoying yourself?” Sam whispered.

“Think so, yeah. You dream this up after I left?”

“Yeah. I did. Because you don’t kiss and run, Max.” Sam nipped her on the neck and stepped away. The cold breeze that evaporated the sweat where Sam's body had been pressed against her jarred her out of her trance: Max’s eyes snapped open and she screeched angrily. But he had already turned around and was walking back to the main road with his hands jammed in his jeans.

“Sam Winchester!”

He either didn’t hear or didn’t acknowledge her, either way, he disappeared around a bend in the road, leaving Max alone, handcuffed to someone’s porch, and in desperate need of sex. “Sam, get back here!” she screamed as she yanked on the chains, the iron post clanging noisily in the still night.

***

When Sammy finally emerged from the woods, Dean quirked an eyebrow. It looked like his little brother was speed walking, even while he was keeping his face an expressionless mask.

“You do it?” Dean asked, his smile showing off plenty of shining teeth.

Sammy just glared, which cracked Dean up. He laughed, and knew that the bet was worth it, no matter the outcome. “C’mon, Sammy, tell me about your conquests!”

His baby brother turned, eyes hardening. “Dean, I cuffed her to a freaking metal pole! When she rips that thing out, I don’t wanna be nearby.” He walked around the back of the car, leaving Dean clinging to the roof of his Impala so that the peels of laughter didn’t dump him on his ass.

“And you owe me $40,” Sammy added as he yanked open the passenger’s door and climbed inside. Dean just shook his head, broad smile splitting his face. He dug around in his pocket to pull out the two twenties he’d been saving for the occasion and tossed them at his brother. Totally worth it.