Sam's biceps rippled as he finished cleaning the last table in the bar. This job is sure a hell of a lot easier than the one I've been doing, mused Sam. Wonder what Dean would think about it? The whole time he'd been bussing tables, his thoughts remained on his brother, Dean. They had not parted in good company and it bothered Sam; he worried at the fact like a sore tooth.

"Are you finished yet, Sam?" Jack, the bartender, was asking him a question and it jolted him out of his concentration on his brother.

"Yeah, Jack, just finished. Is there anything else you need me to do before I leave?"

"Naw, ya look kinda tired. It was pretty busy in here tonight. Gabe'll be back tomorrow, so you'll have help...won't be so bad." Jack was wiping off the bar top as he spoke.

"I'm okay, Jack," Sam said, smiling, "I'm young and strong, I can take it."

"Yep, bet ya can," grinned Jack mischievously, " I saw the way the lady patrons kept eyein' those biceps of yours." Jack was about 60 years old, short and stocky build, with brown hair just now turning gray at the temples. For his age, he had muscles to boast of his own, for his life thus far had not been easy and he had always worked because that's just the way he liked to do things.

Sam grinned back at Jack. "I'll bet you say that to all the new table-bussers. I'm heading on out now, what time should I be here tomorrow?"

"Noon'll be just fine, don't officially open til' 1. Be careful now, wouldn't want ya to lose those good looks to some thugs." Jack jerked his thumb toward the window, "It's dark out there."

"Well, Jack, I'm not afraid of the dark, but I'll be careful." If Jack only knew what Sam had spent his whole life doing with his brother, he wouldn't have been one bit concerned. Fighting the supernatural didn't allow for being afraid. Sam locked the door as he stepped out onto the sidewalk. It was a warm, breezy evening, not humid, but warm enough to make your skin feel good to be alive. The way the wind was blowing, however, reminded Sam of a storm coming. All the way to his apartment Sam argued with himself over whether or not he should call Dean and let him know where he was and that he was okay. Some small sliver of pride kept him from doing what he should do, the memory of what Dean had said to him before he left that day burned fresh in his mind.

"If you leave, don't expect me to beg you to come back!" Dean had shouted, his green eyes blazing with emotion. "I mean it, Sammy, this is it!"

But Sam had left anyway, and had driven for three days before he spotted Lexington on the map. Kentucky had always been one of his favorite places. He, Dean, and their dad had fought many demons there, but it was the friendliness of the people that made Sam like it so well. So, Sam had checked out the newspapers and found a nice little apartment close to the University of Kentucky, and the same day found a job in the bar around the corner. The name of the place was what caught his eye, and he knew that his old friend, Bobby, would have found it amusing. "Hugh Jass Burgers and Beers" the sign said. "Help Wanted." Sam laughed aloud as he entered the bar to ask about the job.

Jack had seemed an affable fellow, joking with Sam as he handed him the application. When Sam handed it back to him, Jack had looked it over and raised an eyebrow when he saw how long he'd been in town.

"You just passin' through?" Jack's brown eyes were piercing, as if trying to look deep inside of Sam.

"No, actually, I needed a change, so I just packed up and left Chicago, and this is where I ended up. I was born in Lawrence, Kansas." Sam was being as honest as he could be without actually being dishonest. He'd liked Jack on first sight.

Jack had handed him a towel and said, "You're hired. You can start by cleanin' those two tables."

Sam had just stared at him, open-mouthed. "Well, get busy, son, it's gettin' crowded in this place and Gabe's not here, we're short-handed."

He didn't know who Gabe was, but Sam had grabbed the towel and went to work. That had been three days ago.

Sam arrived at work before noon the next day, and Jack asked him to take some cases of beer to the stockroom refrigerator to get cold. Sam hung his jacket in the locker in the work room, grabbed the cases of beer, and hauled them to the stockroom. When he finished, he noticed a tray of shot glasses on the table next to the fridge. Jack must have forgotten them in here, Sam thought. He picked up the tray, slung a towel over his shoulder and walked out of the room...and walked smack into the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen in his life.

The tray flew out of Sam's hands and shot glasses crashed to the floor. They both said, "I'm sorry, you startled me," at the same time, and both bent down to clean the mess at the same time, knocking their foreheads so hard that she fell back on her bottom.

"Oh God, I'm sorry, are you hurt?...I didn't mean to hit you, you just came out of nowhere-I-couldn't-see-didn't mean...oh geez, I am so clumsy!" She looked up at Sam with the bluest eyes he had ever seen, and he was so mesmerized by them that he couldn't speak. His mouth just kinda hung open, and no sounds would come out.

The girl was probably about 23, with long, straight ash blonde hair that had been styled in the new "hair painting" streaks. She wore it parted in the middle and it fell to just exactly the top of her very perfect waist. Sam's eyes traveled back upwards to the blue eyes that were almost the color of the ocean. I could drown in those eyes, Sam thought. Finally, he shook himself and words formed.

"I'm the one who should be saying I'm sorry," he smiled, the dimples on the sides of his cheeks making an appearance. You're the one sitting on your bum." God, why did I say that, Sam thought, I must sound like an idiot.

Blue Eyes stared back at him as she said, "My name is Gabriel Whitelaw. My family owns this place...you must be Sam Winchester, the new guy Jack told me about. Nice to meet you!" She reached for his hand to shake it and as their skin touched, Sam's hand felt like fire. Something like an electrical current ran through his body, and apparently Gabriel's too, because she didn't let go of his hand. They simply stood and stared at each other. As their eyes locked, Gabriel knew at once that Sam had secrets and was troubled. She felt it in her soul, and her instincts were always right.

Gabriel was what you could call "clairvoyant". Since she was a child, she'd been able to tell things about people just by touching them, or something they owned. It was a trait inherited from her grandmother, Irene, who was reputed to have been a witch back in the day because she could sometimes foresee the future.

But Gabriel had never felt anything like this before in her life, and the fierceness and certainty with which she felt it scared her.

Jack's voice broke through their reverie. "Gabe! Get out here, need your help with this invoice!"

Gabriel dropped Sam's hand and smiled up at him. She must have been about 5'8, but standing next to Sam's tallness made her seem smaller. "Well, I'm glad you're here, Sam. We lost two guys last week, it's hard to find good help anymore."

Sam smiled back, so dazzled by Gabriel that he could barely think of words to say. What the hell's wrong with me? I've met pretty girls before and never reacted like an idiot! "Nice to meet you, Gabriel. Looking forward to working with you, " was all he could think of to say. He watched as she turned to go, noticing all the curves and the gracious way she moved. It would be hard not to notice a girl like her. She was wearing cowboy boots and a denim mini skirt, with a black t-shirt that was short enough to show a hint of tanned skin around her waist. A navel ring glittered in the light. Grabbing the last of the glasses from the floor, he followed her into the bar.

Jack caught his eye as he came out of the back, and grinned like a devil. Sam stood there for a moment, then grabbed the menus and put them on the tables. Gabriel was standing at the bar, reading an invoice Jack handed her, her long hair falling over her face. She pushed it back behind her ear, looked up at Sam and smiled. He smiled back.

"This invoice is wrong, Jack. I'm going to take it over to them and get it changed. Do you have the bill of lading for the bar stools?" Jack shook his head yes, and retrieved the ticket from under the register.

"I won't be too long, promise I'll be back to help." She grabbed her purse from the bar and looked for her keys. "Don't worry, Sam, I won't let you take all the tips tonight." She fluttered her fingers at them as she closed the door.

"You can take your jaw off the floor now, big guy," said Jack, who was still wearing that ridiculous grin. "Gabe has that effect on people, especially male people."

"Yeah, well, you didn't tell me Gabe was a girl," Sam replied. "You could have at least given me a warning."

Customers started coming in. Sam tied on the apron and started taking orders.