Note: This is a first attempt at a fan fiction story. Sam and Dean are obviously characters created by me, but I hope I've managed to stay somewhat true to how they are.
As for Chuch, yes, it's Chuch and not Church... it's a nickname, she's a wonderful friend and she's allowed me to use her as the guest appearance in the story, which started out as a joke idea, but turned into what it is. Thank you Chuch for entertaining the idea, listening to the rambles and giving your input numerous times!

Feedback welcomed and appreciated. Thanks for reading!

It had been two weeks since the last job. It wasn't like they ever got much of a vacation, but this was as close as it got to one, and both brothers were growing restless.

Sure, both Sam and Dean had said they wanted out of this life numerous times, but when they weren't hunting down something of the supernatural kind, it was like twiddling thumbs for them. Dean had never known anything else, and all the traces Sam had of a short-lived normal life had faded away in the past few years.

Cruising along highways and back roads, Sam and Dean had come to this town on a whim hoping a job would surface. They had arrived a day earlier, followed a few leads from the local paper but those turned out to be dead ends. Dean figured they'd stick around for a few days, hustle a few games of pool to make some cash, pick up some women and have a little fun. Sam could tell Dean was itching for a hunt, he was too, but they couldn't exactly find one. Somewhere weird was going on. The world they knew was too quiet, which usually meant one thing… a shit load of trouble was on its way and it was only a matter of time till it surfaced.

Sam and Dean were at a hole in the wall of a bar. They'd finished playing their games of pool, won a fair amount of money off two men who probably would have won against anyone else. The men had been good players but they weren't on the same level as Dean even by himself, never mind when it became a brotherly effort. The boys had learned with to hustle with the best and worst them thanks to their late father.

Sam sat at a table nursing a beer, searching the usual websites for even of a job on his laptop, but there was nothing on the wires. Even Bobby had called the other day to say things were quiet for all the other hunters and it troubled all of them.

Shutting down his laptop, Sam quickly spotted his brother at the bar. Dean was talking to a woman who was buying into whatever story he was feeding her about himself. Sam knew it was only a matter of time before his brother and his next conquest left. He was surprised they hadn't already. It never seemed to take Dean very long to seal the deal.

He watched them for a moment. It still amazed him how natural his brother was at this even though he'd watched this routine too many times to count. How easy it was for Dean to pull chicks in with the flash of a grin and a cheesy line. Sam had to admire it even if it wasn't his style.

Sam's eyes scanned the bar as he finished his beer, force of habit. He figured he could leave Dean to have his fun and head back to the motel room for the night. Maybe stop in the diner across the street from the motel like he'd done last night. Research seemed to go by faster sometimes when the coffee kept flowing and he didn't have to listen to Dean's snoring or bad dream murmurs from across the room.

He gave Dean the nod and started to gather his stuff together. Sam saw Dean excuse himself for a moment and then head over to him.

"Bailing already Sammy?"

"Yeah Dean," Sam said.

"You know you could try sticking around a little longer, maybe have some fun. Uh, Jenny, or is it Julie, no, uh, it's Becca, she has a roommate she's willing to set you up with."

Sam sighed. "Don't worry about it Dean. See you in the morning."

Dean shook his head. "Fine Sam, but you're going to miss a hell of a time, they're yoga instructors." Dean grinned.

Sam gave Dean a 'how typical' look. "And what are we today Dean?"

"I'm a music video director looking for some talent and you're my assistant." Dean grinned again.

Sam laughed. "Later Dean."

"Have fun sleeping alone Sammy." Dean headed back to the bar and the girl.

Sam picked up his stuff and headed over to the door. Before he left he heard Dean loudly say he'd just fired his assistant and was now free for the night.

Some things never change, and Dean's tactics certainly fit into that category. But the same could be said for Sam, he was on his own again while his big brother got lucky once again.

Sam knew it had been quite awhile, definitely a lot longer than the two weeks of searching for a hunt. And it was starting to get to him. While he wished he could be more like Dean who often never felt nothing more than a physical connection, he just wasn't built that way.

Sam walked out of the bar and down the road back towards the motel, a ten minute walk at most. It was just enough time to feel his loneliness set in and pain from the past over lost loves. When he was feeling this way, Sam knew he was in for a long night.

As Sam got closer to his destination, his eyes shifted between two neon signs. He had a choice, spend some time in the diner or in sit in the room that was almost identical to the last fifty motel rooms they'd stayed in. Eyes on the open sign instead of the vacancy one, the choice was easy, the diner it was.

***

Sam settled into a booth and watched as a waitress appeared almost instantly. It never took long in these places, especially at this time of night.

He ordered a cup of coffee which took the waitress all of a minute to get to him. It wasn't busy in here at all, but there were at least six stray customers scattered about.

Taking out his books and his laptop, Sam got to work. There was always more research to be done and he didn't mind doing it. Sure, Dean liked to refer to him as a walking encyclopedia of weirdness, but it had saved their asses more than a few times. So Sam drifted back into the world he knew all too well, the one of evil and supernatural things and beings.

Two hours and three cups of coffee later, Sam took a break. He'd been caught up in translating some Latin text that had to do with demons and their activities or lack of from time to time. Not the most fascinating stuff to read, but it might explain something about what was going on lately.

He hadn't noticed that the place was pretty much empty now. Besides him, there were three other customers left. Two men sat in one booth whispering across the table at each other.

There was a woman in another booth, hunched over a book. Sam had seen her in here the night before doing the same thing. They'd exchanged a few glances last night, he'd noticed that she had been looking at him and scanning the room just as he had. But tonight she seemed lost in whatever she was reading.
There was something about the way she was sitting there though that reminded him somewhat of himself, on alert and guarded while so deeply consumed into the material before her. It crossed his mind that she could be a hunter, but the chances of that were slim.

Sam decided he'd wait a few more minutes then pass by her booth on his way to the men's room since she was sitting in the booth that was located closest to the restrooms and probably another exit. He'd also try to get a look at what she was reading, maybe he'd even say hello.