Summary: Even nice girls need a good scrubbing sometimes. Inspired by this prompt.
Notes: Apologies for the lateness of this fic. Many thanks to my awesome betas, ignipes and chocolatepot.
It happened different ways, different times. Most times, though, it happened like this.
"You're filthy," said Ellen the moment she opened the door, eyebrows raised but no real surprise showing.
Mary was filthy, her jeans thick with mud and skin rust-tinted with blood. Her hair was wild, full of god-knows-what - she thought maybe there might be some brain in there. Someone else's brain - leastways, she hoped so.
"Vampires," she said by way of explanation, and in lieu of a greeting. Decapitation isn't just messy, it's draining. She didn't come here to talk.
"C'mon," said Ellen, taking Mary's bag, ushering her through the hallway and closing the door all in one move. "I'll take care of you."
Of course Ellen would take care of her, in ways no-one else could, because no-one else understands like Ellen does. Why else would Mary be there, bone-weary and splattered with gore?
Ellen started the shower running while Mary stripped off on silence, and there was a garbage bag waiting for her to dump her dirty clothes into when she was done. Her mom reckoned Mary was too quick to dispose of soiled clothing after a hunt - she'd gotten real good with blood stains - but Mary knew that anything soaked with the blood of dead monsters will never be clean again. Later, Ellen will help her burn them in the back yard. No salt required.
In the shower stall, Mary closed her eyes as the water fell onto her head and ran down her body. She knew that blood - dried, congealed, and still-wet - was being rinsed off of her, sending swirls of pink, red, and brown water down the plughole. The warmth of the shower eased the tension in her muscles, her sore leg and aching shoulders. After a minute, Ellen passed her a washcloth and bar of soap, and Mary scrubbed at the stubborn mud-marks on her arms, the ground-in dirt that covered her palms. It took three applications of shampoo before Mary was satisfied she'd gotten rid of the muck in her hair, and half a bar of soap to scrub her body.
Only when Mary was thoroughly cleaned - blood rinsed off her skin and twigs detangled from her hair - did Ellen stop watching her with that patient, carefully observant air. Ellen undressed herself swiftly and methodically, hanging up her shirt on the bathroom door and tossing her pants in the laundry basket. Mary smiled, victorious, glad to be free from the squalor of hunting monsters and ready for a bit of fun. Before Ellen made it all the way into the stall Mary squirted shower gel at her, laughing as Ellen gasped at the sudden shock of cold liquid on her stomach.
Ellen's retaliation was swift and effective, cutting off Mary's laughter as she pinned her against the tiles, hands by her sides. Mary could've thrown her off without breaking a sweat if she'd wanted to, but it'd been a while since she wanted anything less. She sighed, submitting to Ellen's grip on her wrists, the too-slow slide of their bodies together, as she licked shower water from her lips. Mary knew that Ellen was waiting for just the right moment to kiss her, testing Mary's patience and playing with her desire.
"Want something?" asked Mary, back arched and eyebrows raised.
"Maybe." Ellen smiled. "What you got?"
Mary wasn't quite as good at this as Ellen, not so fast with a ready quip and a quick come back. No matter, because Ellen's got sass enough for the both of them.
"Nice display of goods you got there," said Ellen, looking Mary up and down with satisfaction. "Yeah, I think I'll take it."
She leaned forward and kissed Mary, hard, her hands moving quickly to cup Mary's ass and pull them together. Mary moaned and squirmed, gripping Ellen's shoulders to keep from falling over. Mary'd been kissed before, of course she had, by cute guys at dances and eager guys at drive-ins. Guys who thought they could make up for their lack of style with spit and enthusiasm, guys who didn't seem to think at all. None of them could kiss like Ellen though, sure and sweet, knowing just how to take and what to give. 'Course other girls most likely don't kiss like Ellen either, but Mary wouldn't know about that.
Ellen kept on kissing Mary, over and over, as her hands started to explore Mary's body. Hot and soap-slicked, her fingers danced up and down Mary's back, across her hip and over her belly. Mary let out a series of soft moans when Ellen cupped her breasts, caressing them tenderly while still keeping up the stream of endless kisses.
"Please," gasped Mary, though she was too far gone, light-headed with steam and lust to know what she was asking for. "Please."
"Mm-hmm." Ellen barely acknowledged Mary's pleas, moving with precision and that maddeningly cool sense of purpose as she kissed a path down Mary's jaw, her neck, and finally put her mouth to Mary's breast. Mary's breathing hitched, and her feet scrambled for purchase on the slick floor as Ellen's teeth grazed her nipple, a barely-there bite that just flirted with pain and sent ripples of pleasure up and down Mary's spine.
Mary felt giddy and desperate, forgetting herself (forgetting everything) by the time Ellen's hand reached her cunt, slipping between her legs in a deft, wet, movement. Mary shook, her fingernails gouging Ellen's shoulders as Ellen's fingers slid inside her, a rough calloused thumb brushing her clit. Her head fell forward, buried in the crook of Ellen's neck and she babbled incoherently, a stream of profanity and terms of endearment no sooner spoken than washed away by the still-running water. Ellen held Mary up as she came in Ellen's arms, the bad-girl hunter turned loose-limbed and lost for words.
Ellen was patient with Mary, gave her time to catch her breath and for the rabid pitter-patter of her heart to slow. Pink-cheeked and shaken, Mary held on tight, righting herself onto an even keel until, in a flush of post-orgasmic daring she dropped to her knees, her hands skimming Ellen's body before forcing her legs apart. Mary grinned in triumph at Ellen's gasp of surprise, savouring the rare pleasure of catching her friend off-balance. Eager to press home her advantage she dipped her head, her face nuzzling Ellen's cunt. Slowly, cautiously, she flicked out her tongue; above her, Ellen swore and grabbed fistfuls of Mary's hair. Encouraged, Mary carried on licking, fast-fast-slow, her tongue kept moving over Ellen's clit, until Ellen was whimpering and calling out with pleasure.
Ellen's legs trembled as she came, with Mary's hand grasping her ass, Mary's face buried in her cunt, and her hands tangled deep into Mary's hair. Mary laughed to herself and lifted her arms, supporting Ellen as she slid down the wet tiles. She kept on touching Ellen, kissing her neck and fondling her tits, until Ellen's breathing slowed and she pulled Mary close.
"You might look clean, Mary Campbell," she said. "But you are a very dirty girl."
Mary laughed, happier and freer than she'd felt in months, and leaned in to kiss Ellen again.
Afterwards, when Ellen had helped Mary dry herself off, dressed her in baby doll pajamas, and brushed her hair, Mary curled up to sleep in Ellen's arms. The bed was too small and the room too draughty, but an old blanket and Ellen's body are all that Mary needed to feel warm and safe. The cold brutality of hunting with all its unpredictable dangers seemed a million miles away from the steady beat of Ellen's heart, the comfort of her touch, and the warmth of her breath on Mary's neck.
That night, at least, Mary slept without nightmares.