
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/79703.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      John_Winchester/Mary_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Pre-Canon, First_Time
  Stats:
      Published: 2007-04-07 Words: 2437
****** On A Tuesday ******
by mickeym
Summary
     Mary's waiting.
Notes
     I wrote this long before we had any details on Mary (Campbell)
     Winchester, so it's been Jossed to hell and back.
Mary's seventeen, and she's waiting.
Waiting to finish school, waiting to turn eighteen, waiting to meet someone who
will want her.
Waiting to get out of here, away from this town and her family.
Today she's also waiting tables at Reggie's Diner, looking out the windows at
the blue-gray sky, in between customers, and sweeping-wiping-mopping-bussing.
She's had this job for six months, and she's hated it for five months and
twenty-seven days, but tips are good. Off-duty Marines from Camp LeJeune like
it because Reggie makes good, strong coffee and has the best cherry pie in
three counties, and they'll come in after work and sit sometimes for hours,
drinking coffee, talking and telling jokes. When Mary smiles at them and laughs
at their jokes, the tips are even better than usual.
There's one guy who stands out. He's big -- tall and broad -- with a beautiful
mouth that curves easily into a smile. His voice is both big and small; booming
when he tells jokes and laughs, quiet when he speaks to her. When Mary looks in
his eyes, she sees the same secrets there that she sees when she looks in the
mirror.
In between cherry pie and two pots of coffee, and a lot of teasing from his
buddies, John Winchester asks her out.
She doesn't wait at all before saying yes.
                                     ~~~~~
There isn't much to do in Holly Ridge; the town is small and mainly military,
which means bars, tattoo parlors and a few strip joints. Reggie's is the only
diner and Mary doesn't want to eat there, so they end up at Dairy Queen.
"I'm a mechanic," John tells her over hamburgers and chocolate shakes. "When I
finish up this tour, I'm gonna reenlist, get another four years in, then get
out and get my own shop."
He's three years older than Mary, and he's been in the Marines since the day
after he graduated high school. He's been to California and Okinawa, and now
he's here, though he says he doesn't know for how much longer. "They like to
move us around a lot," he says, then adds, "but it's cool, because I get to see
more places that way."
"It sounds really nice," Mary says, reaching out and grabbing one of John's
French fries.
He narrows his eyes at her, then whaps her knuckles with another French fry.
"You know, stealing a man's fries could be a punishable offense."
Mary laughs. "Yeah, it's right up there with murder, isn't it?"
"It really should be." John nods solemnly, but his eyes twinkle, and Mary likes
that she can see the smile even when he's not smiling. "What about you?" He
asks, then, reaching out to rub his fingers over hers. "Are you from around
here?"
Mary smiles at the light touch, and likes the way his fingers look against her.
"I am, but not for much longer," she says, thinking how no one will miss her
when she's gone and she won't miss them, either. "What was Okinawa like?"
John talks about how different the Japanese culture is; even base culture.
"I liked it a lot, but it was weird, too--the people are smaller, you know? I
walked around pretty much feeling like this huge, clumsy thing."
"I don't think you could be clumsy if you tried," Mary says, then flushes.
John's whole face lights up in a smile. "You didn't see me clomping around
there, though," he answers. "Or trying to squeeze myself into those tiny little
boxes they use for cars."
On impulse Mary stretches her hand out and takes John's, and yeah. She likes
touching him. "Tell me about Japan," she says softly.
"It's really pretty," he begins. "Lots of gardens and shrines. When the sun
sets and the sky is all pink, fading into the water, it makes everything kind
of glow," he tells Mary, and she wishes she could see the sun setting like
that. She's seen it rise over the water, but she thinks sunsets are always
prettier.
They had planned on going to see The Godfather, Part II, but it's already
started at the little theater in town, and the drive-in doesn't appeal to
either of them. They end up driving down to the beach, and walking along water,
talking about future dreams and plans. Mary steps closer to John when a breeze
kicks up, coming in cool off the water, even this far into spring. He takes her
hand, and they fit together so well, like puzzle pieces. Mary leans in closer.
"I want to go somewhere where no one knows me. Maybe go to college, maybe not.
I want to be a mother. I want a whole houseful of kids," she says, glancing
sideways to see John's reaction.
He squeezes her hand.
"Me, too. I'm an only child, and it's--"
"Lonely," Mary finishes for him, voice soft with memories of nights alone in
the house, daddy gone and momma out somewhere drinking, and no one else.
"Yeah." John squeezes her hand again, then stops mid-step, right there on the
beach, pulling her in toward him slowly.
It's a gentle kiss, at first; in it Mary feels comfort. Like she'll never be
lonely again. Then it's warm, pressure growing until she opens her mouth under
his. His tongue strokes over hers, startling her, and she jumps a little,
banging their mouths together. John bites her lip, then licks over it,
muttering something that sounds like an apology. Mary shakes her head and moves
closer, sliding her arms up and around his neck. This time, she gets it right;
they get it right. Hot and wonderful, and Mary feels each slip and slide and
stroke deep down inside her, warmth growing and washing outward until she
wonders how she's going to be able to hold it all in and hopes she can't.
John drives her home and asks if he can see her again. Mary tells him yes,
already shivery and warm, anticipating it. He waits until she's inside her
house, waving at him from behind the screen door, before driving away.
His truck is loud in the quiet night, and Mary leans in the doorway listening
to the fading growl, her mouth and body still thrumming from his kisses.
                                     ~~~~~
John waits for Mary every evening, driving her home after her shift at the
diner is over. Sometimes he stays at her house -- if Momma is out for the
evening. Those night he'll sit with Mary while she finishes up her homework or
studies for upcoming tests. Sometimes they go out, usually for a walk, but
sometimes for a drive up or down the coast.
Once, John takes her on base. They drive past his barracks and the mess hall
and he points out the low building he works in.
They go to the NCO club, and Mary isn't sure what John says to the guy at the
door, but he lets her in, too, even though she isn't eighteen yet. They drink
beer and play pool, hanging out with some of John's friends, and one newly
married couple. His name is Paul, and her name is Susan. She's one year older
than Mary, and when she thinks no one's looking, her hand cups over her belly
protectively. She tells Mary later, when they excuse themselves to the
restroom, that she's pregnant.
Mary wishes she were Susan.
                                     ~~~~~
John's gone for three weeks on what he calls field drills and exercises, and
it's the most miserable three weeks of Mary's life.
It's not dark yet, as Mary walks home from the diner, but she wishes it were;
it would be one more day over and maybe tomorrow John would be back.
He's waiting for her on the front porch when she walks up. He's still dressed
in his field gear, his face smudged black and brown and green. He looks
absolutely ridiculous and wonderful, and Mary launches herself at him, eager
and desperate to feel his arms around her.
"Mary-mine," is all he says at first, in that low, gravelly voice that she
hears and feels all over, all at once. He's warm, and solid, and she's never
felt so safe as she does in his arms.
"Missed you," she tells him, holding on tight. "Feels like you've been gone
forever."
"Felt like it, yeah." He growls the words into Mary's skin, then kisses her
until her head spins.
"You hurt your lip," she says, when they break apart to breathe. Mary draws
back just enough to see the split in John's lip, and reaches up to rub her
thumb gently across it. "What happened?"
John kisses her thumb. "I didn't duck fast enough."
"Be serious."
"I was. We do hand-to-hand, among other things, and I didn't duck a punch fast
enough." John pulls her closer and it's no chore to snuggle against him again.
"I probably got a bruise under all the dirt and paint."
"Poor baby," she clucks, rubbing his lip again.
"You should kiss it and make it better," John tells her.
"I should," she agrees, and then does.
                                     ~~~~~
They make love for the first time, that evening. Mary's room is warm and dim,
rosy shadows peeking around her curtains where the sun is setting.
John's eyes on her as he undoes her buttons make her feel beautiful. His
fingers teasing over her breasts, rubbing through the lace and cotton of her
bra, make her nipples tingle and then tighten; hardsoft points he teases and
caresses with fingers and tongue before suckling.
Each pull of his mouth sends a line of fire from her breasts downward, and Mary
spreads her legs wantonly, wanting something she can't express and doesn't
quite understand. She's felt shades of it before, when John touched her through
her clothes while they kissed, but this�this is raw and powerful and
frightening and exhilarating, and Mary's hot and wet and shaking when John
slides two fingers down her belly, and then further.
"John, oh, God--" She cries out with her orgasm, John's fingers rubbing her
clit into a hard, throbbing little nub until her blood pounds through her body.
One finger presses inside her and Mary bucks upward, arching toward it,
sensation exploding through her again. A second finger, and John leans in to
kiss her, whispering into her mouth, "You feel so good, Mary. So fucking
*good*."
She does feel good, though she knows that's not how he means it. But she's
caught between adrenaline rushes, her body slick and throbbing and relaxed and
ready. Ready for so much more.
It hurts, but it doesn't, when John pushes into her, groaning her name. He's
thick and hard, and she's splitting apart from it, from his cock inside her.
Mary clutches his arms, his shoulders, whining low in the back of her throat
through the first couple of thrusts. The pain recedes into liquid warmth
spreading outward and spiraling through her until all Mary feels is John in
her, on her, over her. He's slow at first, gentle strokes that ease her into
it.
The faster, harder strokes feel like he's pushing all the way up inside her.
Mary bites at John's mouth when he kisses her, licks at the split in his lip
and tastes blood. It's dark and metallic and makes Mary shudder even while she
licks again.
She comes again while he's pounding into her, and it's not just once, it's over
and over, her body convulsing beyond her control of it, until she's wrung out,
panting from the over-stimulation. When John comes it's a new flood of heat
deep inside her, and he grunts with each thrust, each pulse of his cock.
"That was--" Mary begins, voice hoarse from panting and groaning. She clears
her throat and swallows, her mouth almost painfully dry.
"Good, I hope," John says, pulling her close even as he shifts, body separating
from her. It hurts, a sharp, slick pain that pulls, and then John's on his
side, pulling her into a hug. Mary nods.
"It was. I've never--I didn't�know. I mean." She breathes in the musky scent
surrounding her: sex and her and John. She feels slick and sticky between her
thighs, and her whole lower body aches in a way she's never felt before�but she
feels better than she's ever felt, too. "It was really good," she whispers,
curling into John.
His fingers tugging through her hair -- curls hopelessly tangled by thrashing
and sweating -- is the last thing she remembers before sunrise wakes her again.
                                     ~~~~~
Mary turns eighteen at the beginning of June, the day before graduation.
John's sitting in the bleachers for her graduation ceremony. If her Momma's
there, Mary doesn't know; she hasn't seen Momma since the Friday before, when
she left with a male friend to go 'out on the town'.
Mary feels John's eyes on her when she crosses the stage and receives her
diploma. Her eyes aren't on the crisp roll of paper she's just received,
though. They're on the glitter and shine of the tiny diamond on her left hand,
and the way the light reflects into prisms.
"Happy birthday," was what John had said first, and then, "Will you marry me?"
He'd stopped then, tilting his head in a gesture Mary now knew meant he was
nervous. "I got new orders--I'm supposed to ship out in a couple weeks. I want
you to go with me."
"Yes," she'd said, no hesitation or waiting or anything.
Now she turns away from the teachers handing out the diplomas and moves back
toward her seat, catching John's eye as she goes. His smile rivals the
glittering diamond on her finger for shine.
                                     ~~~~~
It's a very simple ceremony, standing before the Justice of Peace at the
courthouse. Susan -- now heavily pregnant -- and Paul stand up with them, and
afterward they hug Mary and Paul shakes John's hand. John tells Mary just after
the ceremony that he's been promoted to Staff Sergeant, which means a better
chance for base quarters at 29 Palms.
Base quarters at 29 Palms. It's a whole world away from Holly Ridge. A whole
new world.
It's a Tuesday in June, and Mary's done waiting. She's turned eighteen, and
she's graduated from high school.
She's met the person she's been waiting for, the person who wants her, and now
she's married to him. Her best friend, her husband, her lover. She thinks she
might burst, she's so happy.
She kisses John and leans into him, thinking about the life ahead of her, ahead
of them, and she can't wait.
She doesn't have to, because it's here.
                                     ~fin~
 
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