Out of Reach

Out of Reach

A Supernatural story by Milisa @440MXS_wife

The #SPNWishList fic and art challenge is rolling again! Milisa responded to an intriguing "high shelf" sort of prompt from a friend. Once again, you, the reader, become the star of a sweet, romantic tale of misunderstandings and life in the bunker. Enjoy!  -- Jennie

Today was baking day, and you had decided to make some baked goods for now, and some to freeze for later. Cookies, muffins, and, of course, pie. You knew this was going to take all day, so you decided to start early.

You had reached the point in your recipe where it called for cinnamon, so you walked over to the cabinet containing your spices. You were dismayed to see that the cinnamon had been moved to a higher shelf. Not only that, but it was pushed back from the edge, just out of your reach.

At that moment, Sam walked through the back door after his morning run. He saw you struggling to grab the cinnamon with the kitchen tongs, a bemused smile on his lips. “Do you need some help?” he asked with a chuckle.

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Good morning, Sam. Yes, I would like some help. Someone decided to rearrange my spices and without telling me. Also, they were moved way out of my reach! How am I supposed to get any cooking done when I can’t reach anything? Not my fault I’m shorter than you guys,” you muttered.

Sam sauntered up to the counter, plucked the spice from the shelf and dropped into your waiting hands. He leaned down and said softly, “All you have to do is ask, and I'll be happy to help you.” His hazel eyes twinkled with amusement then he winked at you as he took a long pull on his bottle of water.

“Th-thank you, Sam,” you stammered. After he left the room, you went back to your mixing bowl. 

You took a deep breath to steady your nerves from being so close to Sam. He was so gorgeous, you couldn’t help but be flustered whenever you were around him. He was the more reserved of the two Winchesters, you thought. However, you had a feeling that there was a good deal of raw, passionate energy only barely contained within his 6’4” frame. 

Shaking your head, you returned your focus to making a batch of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. No raisins for these two, you thought. Only the best for my guys, and that means chocolate chips. You opened the bag and dumped in the chocolate chips, stealing a few for yourself first.

The kitchen seemed a little quiet, so you accessed your Classic Rock playlist from the music app on your phone. In that respect, you and Dean were in agreement, but you found you had more in common with Sam. Reading, movies or taking a walk in the woods behind the bunker was more your style.

You started getting into the music as you worked your way down the playlist, singing and dancing as you went. The oven timer sounded, so you put on the oven mitts and took out a tray of cookies. As you pivoted from the oven to the counter, you were surprised when you noticed that Sam was standing in the doorway. “Whoa, Sam! You nearly made me drop these! How long have you been standing there, anyway?” you asked as you put the baking sheet on the counter.

“Only long enough to realize you are truly in the zone when you’re in here,” he answered, moving toward you. “Also to know you have a beautiful voice and some killer dance moves,” he smirked as he leaned in, his breath hot on your ear.

Dammit, how is he doing this to me? you thought. Your heart hammered in your chest from the rumble of his voice so close to your ear. Recovering your sanity, you replied, “You have two choices. You can either scoot out of my kitchen and let me work, or you can stay. But, I guarantee, if you stay, I'm going to put you to work.”

“I don’t mind some work, as long as I get to partake of one or more of these delicious goodies when we’re done,” he bargained. “Deal,” you said, his large hand engulfing your smaller one in sealing the agreement.

After all the baking was finished, you and Sam cleaned up the dirty dishes in the sink. You left the cookies, muffins and pies on the counter to cool until they could be put in storage. Then you returned the spices to the lowest shelf, so you would be sure to reach them in the future.

“I think we can enjoy some of the fruits of our labor now,” you declared. “Sam, would you get out a couple of plates and put a few cookies on them? I’ll pour us some milk,” you said.

You joined Sam at the kitchen table with the glasses of milk and he brought over the cookies. He broke into one and closed his eyes in complete enjoyment. “These are the best cookies I’ve ever tasted. What makes these so good?"” he asked.

“Can’t tell you, it’s a secret,” you grinned conspiratorially.

“Oh, come on, I helped you make these! We hunt monsters side-by-side, trusting each other with our lives, and you can’t trust me with the secret of your cookies?” he pouted, pretending to be hurt. “What if I want to make a batch some time?”

“Then you can ask me and I’ll be glad to help.” You stood up, took your plate to the sink and rinsed your glass. “Thank you for everything today, Sam,” you said, touching his shoulder and gently ruffling his hair as you walked by him.

Sam stared after you as you left, not even bothering to fix his hair at first. He chuckled as he thought back on the time you had spent together, baking. He enjoyed the ease with which you two worked together and the variety of treats that resulted from the collaboration. He thought back to the joke he told that caused you to throw your head back in laughter. He saw the amusement in your eyes and thought about how you looked happier than he’d ever seen you. It warmed his heart to know that it was he who’d made you laugh like that.

Dean walked into the kitchen for some coffee and saw Sam’s hair was still messy. “Dude, what happened to your hair?” he chuckled.

“What? Oh, that,” Sam grinned, smoothing out his hair. He explained to Dean that the two of you had just finished having some cookies and milk. He said it was your fault that his hair was out of place.

“Aww, Sammy, that’s so cute,” Dean teased.

“Shut up, Dean. We had fun in here today. I caught her singing and dancing when she was in here by herself. I made her laugh at my jokes, even though I kept messing them up,” he trailed off, then scowled. “Besides, you get pie out of the deal, so what do you care?” Sam retorted as he headed for the library.

***

Tonight, you were making chili for dinner. You browned the hamburger and added it to the tomato soup and chili bean mixture already simmering in the pot. You went to your spice cabinet for the chili powder, but you didn’t see it right away. You moved some of the other spices around, thinking it was hiding behind one of them, but it wasn’t. You looked up, and there it was, on the top shelf again, pushed back just far enough that you couldn’t reach it.

Frustrated, you stomped your foot as you tried to figure out how to get to the chili powder. You pulled a chair over to the counter and climbed up onto the seat. You put one knee on the counter, while one foot was still touching the chair’s seat. You grabbed the chili powder and was ready to step back down, when your socks slipped and caused you to lose your balance. You would’ve hit the hard floor in a most unspectacular dismount, had Sam not barged into the kitchen at that exact moment and caught you.

“I knew you’d fall for me eventually, but not like this,” he chuckled. “Couldn’t reach something again?”

“The chili powder! It was up top and I couldn’t reach it, so I had to use this chair,” you explained.

“I told you, honey, if you need something, all you have to do is ask. I'll be glad to help you. Although, I must say you look kinda cute trying to do it yourself, though,” Sam winked.

You rolled your eyes and finished making the chili. You hoped he wouldn't notice the blush on your cheeks as you walked past him, a small smile on your face. Wait, you thought. Did he just call me ‘honey’? I mean, I like it, but where did that come from?!? you wondered.

In return for making dinner, Sam and Dean agreed to take care of the dishes. You went into the library with your favorite book and your blanket, then settled into a comfy chair.

As they finished the dishes, Sam asked Dean if the coast was clear, meaning are you anywhere near the kitchen. Dean confirmed that you were still in your chair, though he said it looked as if you were dozing off instead of reading. Sam walked over to the spice cabinet and selected a few of your more frequently used spices. Then he moved them from the bottom to the top shelf, just out of your reach.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“I’m moving the spices,” Sam replied, matter-of-factly. “I figure, this way she’ll have to ask for my help again, and I can keep getting closer to her. I really like her, Dean. I mean, really like her, maybe I’m even in love with her. She’s so determined to do everything on her own, not ask for help. And she’s fun to be with, she's great at research, and she doesn’t take any of your crap. Which I personally love,” he chuckled. “Her smile is contagious, and when she laughs, she does it with her whole heart.”

“Sounds like chick-flick stuff, man,” Dean teased. “So, when and how are you going to tell her all this?”

“I dunno. I don’t think she has any major cooking projects coming up. Ooh! I can move her coffee cup! She’s usually in here for coffee about the time I come back from my run, so I can tell her then,” Sam declared.

“Good, because if you don’t confess to her, and soon, I’m gonna tell her who’s responsible for moving her stuff around,” Dean warned.

***

You yawned as you shuffled to the kitchen in your pajama pants and T-shirt. You were so looking forward to that first morning cup of coffee to help jump-start your day. While it was brewing, you started putting away the clean dishes from last night’s meal. Sam came in the back door from his usual morning run. Seeing him brought a smile to your face. He returned your smile and added a “good morning” wish to it. You continued to put dishes away as he cooled down from his run with a bottle of water.

The coffee pot beeped to let you know it was done brewing. You reached into the cabinet for your favorite coffee cup, only to see it perched on the top shelf. You turned around with your back to the cabinet and pinched your nose between your thumb and forefinger. You were trying to calm yourself down and not lash out in frustration. Sam noticed your distress and asked if something was wrong.

“I’m beginning to think that someone in this bunker doesn't like me,” you said, close to tears.

“Why on Earth would you say that?” Sam asked in shock.

“I already know I’m shorter than you and Dean. But that doesn’t mean that one of you has to keep pointing it out by putting stuff where I can’t get to it! I can’t reach my coffee cup,” you sniffed.

Sam walked over to where you were standing, put one hand on either side of you and leaned on the counter. His heart nearly broke looking into your eyes and seeing them shimmer with unshed tears. He finally decided to come clean. 

“Honey, whoever’s doing this to you isn’t trying to be mean. He’s been moving stuff around on you so you’ll ask him to help you, and then he can get closer to you. Because he really likes you. As more than a friend,” Sam said, brushing your cheek with his knuckles.

You found it difficult to form a coherent thought as he caressed your cheek. “How-- how do you kn-- know this, Sam?” you stammered.

He took a deep breath before answering. “I know this because it’s me. I’m the one who’s been moving your stuff up high, so you’ll ask me for help. And so that I can gather enough courage to do this,” he explained as he pressed his lips to yours.

At first, you didn’t know what to think, since he had just confessed to causing you so much frustration. A split second later, you suspended all thinking, leaned in and kissed him back.

You pulled back to break the kiss so you could catch your breath. “Whoa. Sam, that was amazing,” you breathed.

“If you think that’s amazing, here’s round two,” he growled, capturing your mouth again with more demanding kisses. His hands roamed up and down your back. You slid your hands up the length of his torso, resting on his shoulders.

Sam took you into his arms and rested his chin on top of your head. When he spoke, you could tell without looking that he had a bright smile on his face. “You are the most wonderful woman I’ve ever met. You are intelligent, vibrant and sexy, with a killer smile. Just seeing it is the best part of my day. I am so lucky to have you in my life,” he murmured.

“You’re not the only lucky one, Sam. You are one of the kindest men I’ve ever met. You’re caring, thoughtful, and I dare say you’re a bit of a romantic,” you grinned. “I don't think anyone has ever worked this hard to get my attention. It was very sweet, and I love you even more for it,” you remarked shyly.

Sam tilted your face to gaze into your hazel eyes. “I really didn’t like causing you to be so frustrated, my love. But every day that I have you in my arms reminds me that in the end, it was all worth it. I love you, baby,” he declared.