A/N To those who are waiting for the next part of the Victor'verse: I'm working on it and you will see the first chapter before that fat guy in the red suit comes around. Promise.

Pairings: Dean/Debra but it's mainly a case fic

Timeline: season 2 for Supernatural, between season 2 and 3 for Dexter

Spoilers: general season 2 spoilers for both shows

Warnings: language, sex and violence at the level of Dexter but nothing explicit

Salt and Blood

„Okay, Darna." Dean grinned and raised his glass. The girl next to him at the bar mirrored his motion and together they tossed their shots back. The drink had a girly pink color and an even more girly name which Dean couldn't remember at the moment – he was pretty proud that he could remember Darna's name at least – and it even tasted girly but it burned like it had a manly amount of alcohol and that was all that mattered, right? That and the fact that with every shot he got a little closer to getting laid tonight.

"So, nurse school." Dean returned to their conversation earlier and no he wasn't thinking about naughty nurse outfits. "Sounds tough."

"I can help people, you know." She smiled at him. "Gives me a purpose, like I can actually do something to make the world a better place." It sounded like something she had thought about, polished over time. Something to impress a new boss to get the job. For a heartbeat she looked damn serious before she burst into giggles. "I'm tipsy."

She leaned way into his personal space and he used the opportunity to brush his lips slightly over her cheek.

"Honestly, it's a lousy job." Her hand found his thigh. "You get paid like shit and you get treated like shit and most of the time you feel like shit."

"Forget work." Somewhere the conversation had made a left turn Dean really didn't like. This evening should be fun and now he had the feeling she would start to cry any minute now. He gestured for another drink. "Let's have some fun."

With grim determination she took the glass and drowned the pink drink like a pro. "You're right. Tonight I wanna have fun." She crawled closer till she practically sat in his lap. Her lips found his and her crappy job was forgotten.

"My place isn't far from her." She said when they parted. Dean looked over to the far corner of the bar where alone at a table Sam sat with one beer he had ordered hours ago and his laptop. Who in his right mind – except for his workaholic geek brother – went into a bar on a Friday night to work? And the scariest thing about that was that Sam looked like he enjoyed himself over there. Alone in the dark corner. Sometimes Dean wasn't sure if Sam wasn't actually adopted.

"Give me a sec." Dean answered already heading towards his brother.

"Don't keep me waiting." She singsonged after him.

When Dean approached the table Sam was already looking at him with this knowing expression on his face. Dean tossed him the keys.

"Here, take the car." His gin grew wider. "And don't wait up."

Sam leaned a little to the side to look around Dean and eyeballed the girl waiting for his big brother at the bar. Dean didn't have to turn around to know she tried to pull him back into her arms by her eyelashes. For a second he felt kinda bad for Sam, leaving him here all by himself but Sam smiled at him approving.

"Don't make too much noise when you stumble in in the middle of the night." Was all he had to say about that and turned his attention back to his laptop. But it looked like he was closing the windows and got ready to leave, too.

"You really should try to have some fun from time to time." Dean ignored the eye roll and patted Sam's shoulder and then went back to the waiting Darna.

"Got permission to act like a big boy?" She asked with another giggle.

"Oh, don't need permission, sugar. I'll show you big boy." He pulled her into another kiss. "Just had to make sure the kid doesn't feel lost when his big brother leaves without him."

As if either of them would just leave without letting the other one know. They were past that, thank god. And even now in the downtime, after one hunt finished and the next not even on the horizon, they needed to know, at least roughly, where the other one was and when to expect him back. So they knew at which point they could start to worry. Helped to survive.

Dean followed Darna outside the bar and into the night. They walked the short distance, Dean with one arm around her shoulder and she sneaked her hand under his leather jacket.

As soon as they entered her apartment she brushed the jacket off his shoulders while she kicked her shoes from her feet. Dean appreciated a woman who could multitask, he wondered what else she could do simultaneously and he really hoped he was about to find out. She guided him into her bedroom, in this tiny apartment it took only a few steps – shitty payment and all – but all what mattered for Dean at the moment was the woman in his arms and the bed he sank into.

Later when she lay in his arms and Dean felt the afterglow of the sexy times – and yes she could multitask in bed too – he couldn't quite force himself to get up. Drowsy he had trouble keeping his eyes open and he was really tempted to just fall asleep. One-night stands were one thing, mornings after another. He did the first as often as he could, the latter not so much. Usually it was kinda awkward when in the harsh sunlight the woman realized that he probably wasn't the talent scout or rock-star or whatever lie he'd told her to get into her pants. Not that most of them wasn't smart enough to see right through his thin cover story but in the middle of the night they wanted to believe and just have some fun. In the morning reality was back and he didn't fit in anymore.

So better leave in time. He placed a kiss on top of her hair and she sighed in her sleep. Dean slipped out of the bed, gathered his things and a few minutes later he stood on the street. Hands in his pockets and a gin on his face he made his way back to the motel.

He was even in a good enough mood to actually try to be as quiet as possible to not wake up Sam. Who poked out of his bed as soon as he heard the door nevertheless, but fell back into his pillow without really waking up once he had recognized Dean.

Dean slipped under the covers, Darna's scent still in his nose, lingering on his skin and with a happy sigh he fell asleep.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Another good thing about the time between hunts was the fact that they could sleep in. At least Dean did. When he woke up a freshly showered and shaved Sam sat fully clothed at the little table of their motel room completely absorbed in his laptop and the notes he were working on for the last few days. Dean had no idea what he was working on but he was fine with having some fun till Sam told him where to drive next for a hunt. Maybe he should hustle some money while they were here. Or he could call Darna for a second round. The light pounding in his head told him that he better should stay away from girlish pink drinks next time, though.

"How can you be up so early?" Dean grunted and rolled out of the bed. The taste of roadkill in his mouth but he wasn't dashing for the bathroom, so he considered the night as a success.

"It's past nine." Sam informed him without even looking up. "Get ready and we can get some breakfast."

That sounded like a plan, the promise of food and coffee always sounded like a plan. But he had to brush his teeth first and sniffing at his armpit he decided a shower was due, too.

With the diner only a block down the street they left the car behind and walked the short distance. Bright sunshine and a blue sky above them with only a few fluffy clouds, Dean felt like he had been transported into a Disney movie but he didn't mind. Even the bell announcing customers at the diner rang cheerfully.

In the two days they had stayed in town they had become quite regulars. Regular enough that Maria – the mid-fifty, motherly owner of the diner – welcomed them with a warm smile and hot coffee before they even had the chance to made themselves comfortable in a booth at the far end of the diner. Breakfast was mostly over and it was too early for lunch so there were only a few other guests which gave the brothers some privacy. Which was probably good because the way Sam set up his laptop and went through his notes he was ready to tell Dean about their next case.

"What can I do for you?" Maria brought them the menus, her warm smile directed at Sam. Figures, that kid couldn't for the life of his get a hot chick to look twice at him but every woman over forty immediately wanted to mother him to death. However, the way Sam squirmed under that unwanted attention every single time was totally worth it.

"Stop grinning." Sam growled at him as soon as Maria was out of earshot.

"She likes you." That got him a glare.

With the steaming coffee in his hand Dean leaned back.

"What do you got?" He nodded towards the notes. It was like flipping a switch, from one second to the other Sam was in research mood. The same eagerness Dean had loved since a six-year-old Sam had told him with bright eyes what he had learned at school that day.

"I'm not sure if there is actually a case." Sam started. "You heard about that serial killer down in Florida? The one who blew himself up?"

Dean took a sip of his coffee, thinking. "It was all over the news." He remembered. "What was he called? The Bay Harbor Butcher?"

"That's the one." Sam turned the laptop so that Dean could see the headline of an article declaring the Butcher dead.

Knowing his business Dean said: "And you think he isn't done yet." It wasn't a question.

"I'm not sure." They were interrupted by Maria bringing their breakfast. Dean dug in, hot and greasy just like he liked it. This was definitive one of the better diners, if they ever came near this place again … Who was he fooling? The chances to travel the same road twice were slim. Most towns he didn't even remember the name of and if then because they were connected with a hunt.

"Do you know that the police didn't even know they had a serial killer till they found the bodies?" Sam pointed his fork at Dean, chewing on his pancakes. "He had been active for years and if they hadn't found his dumpsite by accident he'd be still around. Dumped them in plastic bags at the bottom of the ocean. He was a cop so that made things easier for him and he was good, really good, never raised any red flags. His victims, criminals mostly murderers themselves, just vanished. Nobody missed them or if they did, they thought gangs or drugs or that the victim had been smart enough to get out and start over somewhere else. Some were wanted by the police so it makes sense that everybody thought they went underground."

Dean nodded. He had read the headlines but never bothered with the details. Just another crazy human he'd never understand. In some ways the monsters were more honest.

"So what makes you think he's still around?" If the police had found more bodies it would have been all over the news.

"Like before there are no bodies." Sam confirmed Dean's thoughts. "But …"

"I like the but." Dean finished the last of his bacon.

"The death rate in Miami is average but if you are a murderer chances are pretty high that you just vanish some day. And …" He pointed with his finger while he searched for one specific piece of paper. "This vanishing rate is constant over the last few years. Like the Bay Harbor Butcher has never stopped. So either they got the wrong guy ..." With a smug grin he reached for his coffee.

"Or somebody doesn't know when to stop." Finished Dean the sentence. They clunked the coffee mugs together. "Sweet."