ok, this is just a short bit of fun i had to write. the idea popped into my head the other night when i was out at the bar with my dad and a bunch of family friends. they were telling stories of their motorcycle trips and this came up-- yes, there really is a place like this. as always, this is just for fun, enjoy.

ps: this takes place in very early season 1 after "skin" but before "home." ahh, i miss the days of short titles. lol

A MATCH MADE IN HEAVEN

Sam Winchester was beat, his entire body aching. They'd finished their last hunt exactly twenty-three hours and thirteen minutes ago— and they'd been on the road for at least ten of those hours. There had been a slight hiccup in their plans when the country sheriff turned out to be less bumbling then they'd originally thought. And with Dean quickly climbing the FBI's most wanted list, the brothers had decided it would be a good idea to get the hell out of dodge, and fast.

Which led them to their current generic motel in no name town number fifty. And Sam was getting tired of it all. He remembered now what he hated the most about hunting— the transient lifestyle. Sam, unlike his brother Dean, liked having a routine, liked having each and every day start and end the same. It was comforting, familiar, safe. But ever since Jessica died Sam had been thrust back into his brother's wayward lifestyle.

Sam enjoyed being with his big brother again, enjoyed the camaraderie, but he wished it hadn't come at so high a price. The love of his life was killed by whatever it was that had taken his mother all those years ago, and at the same time, their father had gone missing. When Dean had shown up alone at his apartment, Sam was afraid his larger than life father had actually met his match, that something had finally claimed John Winchester. But the only thing the older man was lost to was his own obsession.

Sam didn't have a single memory of his mother. Sure Dean and Dad had told him stories, but that's all they were, stories. He had no memories of his own, no image or smell to fall back on, it was just nothing. So it was hard for him to give up his life avenging someone he had never known. But now Jessica was gone, a victim to the same mysterious fire, the same supernatural force— and the twenty-two year old was thrown back into the hunt.

Sam rolled over on the bed when he heard the shower go off. He'd managed to get first dibs on the shower, his long legs getting him to the bathroom faster than Dean. Sam had proceeded to take as long a shower as possible, but was upset to learn they'd booked one of the few motels with a never ending supply of hot water. It was like fate was on Dean's side. Dean called it his 'big brother mojo'.

The brunette closed his eyes, his body relaxing as he slowly drifted off to a restless sleep. He hated to sleep, his dreams often plagued by images of Jessica's death, images he'd been forced to witness even before his girlfriend had died. He didn't know what to make of the strange dreams, but he sure as hell wasn't going to tell Dean.

"Yo!"

Sam sprang awake when something heavy and wet slapped him across the face. He sat up quickly, pushing the wet towel to the floor. "You're such an ass." Sam mumbled to his smirking brother before rolling over on his side.

"Come on, you're not going to bed, are you?" Dean chided, grabbing the towel and lobbing it into the bathroom.

"I was planning on it."

"Now? Dude, it's like 9:30."

"I know, but incase you don't remember, we've been running from the cops for the last day."

"Not the whole day."

"Fine, half the day. However long it's been I'm beat."

"Come on, Sammy, I asked the girl at the front desk and she said there's a great bar right around the corner."

"Then have fun."

"I'm not going solo."

"Why the hell not?" Sam groaned, covering his head with a pillow. Dean had been insistent on him going out every night. But that was his brother's lifestyle, not his.

"Cause I need my sad, geeky little brother to help girls swoon. It's like bringing a kid the the grocery story."

"You're sick. Besides, I didn't think you needed help getting girls."

"I don't."

Sam just smirked, he could imagine the look on his brother's face. But he was perfectly happy in bed, buried in the pillows, he wasn't letting Dean win. "Then go by yourself."

"You need to get out more."

"Dean—."

"Fine."

Sam heard his brother as he walked across the room, grabbed his coat, and headed out the door. The younger man sighed. He knew Dean only had his best interests in mind, but he wished the older man would give it a rest. He was fine, he didn't need Dean hovering over him twenty four-seven.

66666666666666

Sam felt the familiar comforter beneath him, his body sinking into the soft bed. He was so tired. His entire body called for sleep, and he welcomed it. A small voice at the back of his mind was telling him to fight it, but he couldn't any longer. He had laid in bed for hours after his brother left, tossing and turning before finally drifting off. It was the story of his life lately, and the sleep deprivation was wearing him down.

He flinched when he felt something drip on his forehead. He swatted the annoyance away— damn Dean and his pranks. Another drop hit him, harder this time, and he finally pushed his tired eyes open. But the scene which greeted him was not what he'd been expecting. He took in a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked up into Jessica's hurt filled eyes.

"No!" Sam yelled, " Jess, no!"

"Why, Sam?"

It was the same thing he'd asked himself over and over again— why? He knew it was coming, had dreamt about it for days, and still he had done nothing.

"No!" Sam shouted again, sitting up in the bed. He had to blink several times in the bright light. Gone was Jessica, gone were the flames and his apartment. He was back in the motel he and his brother had rented a few short hours ago. But now, instead of it being the dead of night it was clearly late morning.

Sam blinked several time, searching the room for his brother. Dean was always at his side, always there when one of the nightmares struck— except for now that is. Sam felt his heart rate increasing as he searched the small room, hell he even checked the sidewalk out front. But his brother was nowhere in sight.

Sam shook his head, grabbing his cell off the nightstand and hitting Dean's number. It rang three times before the older man finally answered.

"Finally awake princess? How was your beauty sleep?"

"Dean? Where are you?" Sam asked, his pulse gradually slowing.

"At the world's coolest bar. You gotta get down here, man. It's seriously right around the corner."

"You're still at the bar?"

"I came back last night but you were already sleeping. Dude, this place is so cool even you'll love it." And with that Dean ended the call.

Sam looked at his phone, it hadn't sounded overly crowded there, but then it was ten in the morning. The brunette shook his head, getting dressed and pulling on a jacket and sneakers before heading out the door. Dean was probably drunk and needed someone to bring him home.

The young man pushed his hands in his pockets as he walked, it was late autumn and the days were getting cooler. Sam rounded the corner, stopping in his tracks when he saw the bar his brother was referring to. He looked around, searching for another building, anything to keep him out of what he was about to walk into. But there was nothing around. Just one small building in the middle of a dusty parking lot.

Sam shook his head, eyeing the sign above the door one last time before entering— this was gonna be an experience. The space was small, and it took only a few seconds for Sam to find his brother. Dean was sitting on a barstool, a stupid grin plastered on his face as he spoke to the woman on the other side of the bar.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean turned to face him, slapping the stool next to him and motioning for a second beer. "Totally awesome, right?"

"Uh. Different." Sam didn't quite know what to say. Maybe Dean hit his head during the last hunt.

"Hey, Sweetie." The woman behind the bar smiled at Sam. She was middle aged, and had a motherly quality about her— not the kind of woman his brother would hit on. Sam just shook his head, for all his brother's womanizing and pool hustling he'd dubbed a place like this the 'coolest bar in the world'.

"I see you haven't thrown him out yet." Sam smiled back at the woman as he motioned to his brother.

"This kid? He's an angel." She smirked, walking down the bar to greet another group of people.

"See, Sammy, I'm an angel."

"That's cause she doesn't know you."

"You're just jealous."

"Are you feeling ok, Dean?"

"Yeah, why?" Dean asked, taking another long drink from his beer.

"Uh, it's just— this place."

"Cool huh?" Dean smirked, raising his eyebrows.

"Are you serious?"

"Hell yeah. Have you ever been to a place like this before in your life?"

"I can't say that I have."

"See, it's one of a kind."

"I'm pretty damn sure it is."

Sam looked over to the other section of the building, a half wall dividing the bar and other room. It was true, and Sam still couldn't believe it. He thought the sign above the bar had been some kind of joke, but he was mistaken. Dean's new favorite bar was Lydia's Laundromat and Lounge.

"They sell food, too." Dean smiled, shaking a small menu in Sam's face. "I could live here."

Sam smiled. Dean was dangerous, a trained hunter and skilled marksman— but he had the enthusiasm of a ten year old kid, and got excited about the quirkiest things. "A laundromat-- in a bar."

"Or a bar in a laundromat. However you look at it, it's like a match made in heaven. We can eat, drink and do laundry, all at once. And I asked, they have that why-hi thingy, too."

"Wi-fi?"

"Yeah, sure. So you can research— while we do our laundry, eat and drink."

"So, you're multitasking?"

"Yup. See, Sammy, this is the way real men do laundry, with beer."

Sam laughed, shaking his head. His eyes caught a beat up looking pool table in the far corner of the building. There weren't many customers in the early hour, and Sam knew it would be a good chance to get some much needed down time with his brother. "Tell you what, Dean. I'm gonna head back to the room and get our laundry. You get us some breakfast and warm up the pool table."

Dean's smile grew, his green eyes lighting up with that look only Dean got. "You're on, little brother."

Sam felt the tension in his body dissipating as he walked to their motel room. The last few months of his life had been devastating, but with his brother by his side, maybe he could build a new life out of the pieces left behind.