An interesting beginning
"So what, we've got a nest of blood suckers and a demon trapping medallion with some mumbo jumbo, crazy ass superpower?" Dean asked with incredulity, the notes from his research scattered on the small wooden table in front of him.
Sam shrugged from where he sat on the bed, his laptop propped up on his lap, "Pretty much, Cas says the medallion can actually be used to control a demon." He explained.
Dean blinked, "Huh…" He took a sip of his beer as he worked to scrap all his thoughts together, "Why the hell have we never heard of this? Life would've been easier if we knew about this." He said in slight frustration as he thought about the countless amount of demons they have faced in the last five years.
Sam waved his hand in a manner to placate his brother, "I don't know, Dean. Cas didn't know much either, only the technicalities."
Dean huffed in disbelief, "So we got two jobs to do. Get the medallion and gank a few sons of bitches?"
Sam slowly pushed away from the bed as he set his laptop aside, "Pretty much."
Dean pursed his lips and nodded before he stood up, "Easy hunt, well then I'm hitting the bar. Don't wait up." He rumbled as he shrugged on his jacket and grabbed the Impala's keys.
"Dean, I think this case is a whole lot more than what we can see on the surface." Dean paused in the doorway and slightly turned to his little brother, "Is there anything we can do now besides sit here and try reading up on something even an 'Angel of the Lord' knows little about?" Sam didn't say anything as he shifted slightly from foot to foot.
Dean couldn't help but be reminded of a much younger version of his brother, asking him about girls and hunting. Dean smiled, "C'mon, we need a night out, we've been on the road for three days." Dean gestured for his brother to follow him.
When they finally found a bar that looked like it served good food and descent scotch, Dean pulled into the parking lot and parked his baby easily before the two hunters made their way inside.
Dean made a beeline for the bar and Sam slowly trailed behind him, his gaze habitually exploring the interior of the bar. It was cleaner than most, the smell of beer and smoke wasn't as stale as it would be in the usual joints they had occupied in the past. The booths that lined the walls were filled with people, the seats a deep red leather. Sam was instantly fascinated with the pictures and the trinkets, probably collected over the years by the bar's owner, that adorned the walls. A stage was to the left where band instruments stood in their respective spaces, the bar was to the right, and further in the back were several pool tables.
Sam scanned the crowd to find Dean already sauntering over to the pool tables. Sam narrowed his eyes slightly, he had grown out of the habit of hustling people out of their money, but every now and again Dean would have the tendency to fall back on old habits.
Sam sniffed and rolled his shoulders when he finally reached the bar. The barmaid was cute with big dark eyes and short blonde hair. She grinned at him when he turned to give her some attention. A bottle of beer was placed in front of him and Sam glanced over his shoulder to make sure his brother was fine before he turned back to the conversation with the barmaid.
Dean slowly drifted between the tables, bottle of beer in hand as he searched for a pair of people to actually play of who'll be finishing soon. Luck was on his side as he spotted a short brunette lining up for a shot. There were four balls still left on the table. Dean glanced around and couldn't see her opponent. He came to a standstill and watched her easily sink the number two ball. It was an easy pocket shot.
Dean narrowed his eyes as she lined up for a much more difficult shot. She missed. No surprise there.
The woman straightened slowly, her curtain of dark hair falling over her shoulder. Dean instantly was on alert when two dark blue eyes connected with his. She raised a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. Dean cleared his throat as he had been caught staring.
"You know if you adjust the angle of your arm, that ball definitely would have sunk." He tried for some conversation.
He had a feeling this was a woman not to be fucked with. She raised her other eyebrow in slight surprise before she glanced down at the table. Her sharp eyes flicked over where the ball had been and where it lay now.
Dean took the time to study her face better. She was pretty with high cheekbones and perfect kissable lips. Her eyes, though, are what really caught his attention.
"Well look at that, you're right." Her voice was low with a high-end British accent. Dean resisted the urge to furrow his brow, but he couldn't hide the surprise in his voice, "I take it you're not from around here?"
The woman smirked as she bent over the table again, lining up a better shot for the fourteen ball.
"What gave it away, my shining personality or my exotic appearance?"
Dean raised an eyebrow. He couldn't help but nip back at her, though, "No. American women wouldn't have missed that shot."
The brunette straitened again after the fourteen disappeared inside the corner pocket. Her eyes unabashedly raked over his form, her gaze scanning him from top to bottom and then up again. Dean resisted the unusual urge to squirm under her intense gaze. He usually enjoyed it when women checked him out, but for some reason he felt like this strange species of the female gender was apprising him more than appreciating.
The corner of her mouth quirked up, "Well, you going to stand there and criticize one lousy shot or are you going to toughen up and take on little ol' me?"
Dean easily recognised the challenge and took a sip of his beer to hide his bemusement. He licked his lips as his own gaze raked over her form. She was curvy in a strong kind of way, nice legs and an ass any guy would kill for. Dean had a feeling that this would be an interesting night.
He smirked, "Well, let's dance." He shrugged out of his jacket as the woman set up the table.
"My name's Dean, by the way." Dean murmured as he walked behind her, his voice purposefully low. She smirked, an infuriating know-it-all smirk, and glanced at him over her shoulder, "Casey."
Dean frowned slightly, the name didn't suit her. She seemed too smart, too cunning to have a name you usually stereotyped with a ditzy blonde. He narrowed his eyes lightly in suspicion as he watched her.
"I can feel you staring." She said, amusement colouring her tone. Dean blinked and cleared his throat,
"I'll break."
Casey chuckled softly and looked up as Dean lined up his shot,
"You go ahead and do that."
Dean quickly glanced up at her, her face expectant as she watched him closely. Dean couldn't help the playful grin that spread across his face as he pulled back and shot the white billiard ball across the green felt.
They played three rounds, Casey winning two and Dean winning the last round. He was stunned to find her aim and skill as good as it was. She could easily line up an impossible shot, the ball would bounce off the edges of the table and end up in the pocket.
Their communication was odd to say the least. Dean would make a great shot, the instant inflation of his ego would quickly be shot to hell when she quipped something insulting or took a dig at his ability to pull his face askew. He tried flirting, just to see how she'll react. Her response was exactly something he expected,
"Keep trying, Pretty Boy, maybe you'll catch my attention in the next hundred years or so." She snorted.
Dean was definitely intrigued, his attention caught with two tiny black-nailed fists. His amusement only grew as the night continued. Casey seemed to slowly warm up to him, her smiles became more frequent, her defensive retorts developed into softer teasing remarks. Dean vaguely wondered what lay behind her hard exterior. There was a soft voice in the back of his mind whispering to him that he shouldn't be this open, an annoying voice that vaguely sounded like Sam.
They were currently busy with their fourth game. Casey was leaning into the table, a bottle of beer held to her lips as her eyes intently followed Dean as he moved around the table, shooting shots he hadn't been able to in the prior games.
Seemed like this Dean fellow was a hell of a lot more than a pretty face and a snarky comment, she thought.
"Maybe we should make this game a little more interesting." Dean commented as he rounded her, his eyes straying to her casual form. Casey raised her eyebrow, "You want to put money on this?" She asked in quiet disbelief.
Dean grinned wickedly at her, "More like your company." Casey's eyes widened slightly and Dean was surprised by the show of emotion. She hadn't been letting on at all what she had been thinking throughout the night.
Casey cleared her throat, her eyes flicking over to the bar. Dean's eyebrow furrowed at her unceremonious behaviour.
"Casey?" He asked when the silence was viciously tramping down on his confidence at the request.
Casey turned to him and her eyes uncharacteristically softened. Dean blinked and the look was gone.
"I doubt you'll be able to handle what I've got to offer." She finally said, her hip jutted out, her hand resting there. Dean smirked as he slowly made his way to her, his voice dropped as he came to a standstill a few inches from her, "Maybe you should be more worried about what you can't handle."
He watched as her jaw tightened and her eyes hardened with the challenge. She opened her mouth, probably to squish his ego into the ground, but a hand suddenly wrapped around his own arm and ripped him away from her.
Anger instantly engulfed him as he turned to see who was throwing him around like a ragdoll.
He was about Dean's height, if not an inch taller, broad shoulders, big muscles. The guy had dark brown hair and startling blue eyes… familiar cheekbones.
"Get your hands off her." He snarled in a British accent. He swayed slightly. Dean held up his hands in slight surrender, "Calm down, dude. I didn't even touch her."
Dean wasn't in the mood for a fight. He most definitely wasn't in the mood to wash the blood of a drunken guy off his hands tonight, either.
The guy took a threatening step forward, a low growl ripping from his lips. Casey stepped around to put a placating hand on his chest, "Calm down, Jamie. He didn't touch me." She soothed as she glanced in Dean's direction.
Sam had slowly made his way over to them and Dean could see his brother waiting to spring into action at any sign of trouble.
Dean took an involuntary step forward at the sight of an obvious violent man so close to Casey, her small stature highlighted by the man's much larger one.
Casey held up her hand to stop him, "I'm sorry, Dean. I'll have to cut our match short. Jamie has the tendency to drink a little too much."
Dean's hand balled into a fist, "You know him?" He asked as he warily watched the tall man. Casey nodded, "He's my brother."
Dean understood the look in her eyes. He understood that urge to keep a brother out of trouble, to keep a brother save. He nodded his head and watched as she led him out the bar by lightly tugging on his hand.
Dean watched her go in slight dismay. He had really high hopes to spend the night with her, something he hasn't done in quite some time. Dean has been more careful in choosing his one night stands. He made sure to not just jump into bed with every woman.
Sam came to stand next to him, his hands in his pockets, "Want to get a beer?" He asked deliberately, knowing his brother wouldn't want to talk about it.
Dean tore his eyes away from where Casey and her brother had disappeared through the door, "Sure," He nodded as he passed Sam and headed for the bar.
They had gone after the nest the following night. There were ten of them, all of them strong and all of them mated – never a good sign. The fight had been bloody and brutal. Dean fractured a rib and Sam's head almost got crushed, but they had gotten the information they needed out of the littlest bloodsucker.
They went to the old abandoned house on the edge of town and had searched the large place top to bottom with no luck. They did, however, spot a shadow disappearing into a car across the road, though. Lucky for them, Dean would've recognised that elegant movement anywhere.
They found her leaving the same bar where she and Dean had met. Her eyes barely had time to light at the sight of him, before Sam grabbed her from behind.
Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me as I worship the ground the writers of that fabulous show walk on. I do however own this story and my own character.
A/N: Welcome to my third fanfic attempt ! I really hope you enjoyed the first section of what I believe to be a thrilling story. I would really appreciate a review to let me know if some of you are interested in knowing what happens next.