I own neither the Winchesters boys nor the Duke boys.
.~o()o~.
Sam sat bolt upright in bed, gasping wildly as the last fragments of dreaming scattered in his brain. It had been so real. Dean sat in the other bed, watching him as his breathing slowed to normal and his heart stopped pounding.
"Dude, you ok?" He asked, sleep slurring his words.
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just another dream."
"Huh, must have been a doozy. Clowns or midgets?" Dean cocked an eyebrow at his younger brother, smirking slightly.
Go back to sleep, Dean." Turning away from his brother, he lay his head back on the pillow and listened as Dean's breathing gradually deepened into sleep. Sleep had never been farther away as images continued to flash through his brain; a bright orange car with a confederate flag on top and a large 01 painted on the door; an old man in a bright red ball cap, tears streaming down his face, and a weather-beaten road sign that read "Welcome to Hazzard." But more disturbing than that was the image of polished knives reflecting pitch black eyes and a blond man, his torn, blue t-shirt covered in blood, swaying slowly as he hung from the rafters of an old, abandoned barn.
Sam lay on his back, exhaustion pouring over him in waves, eyes burning so fiercely it hurt to close them. Sleep was just beyond his grasp. With a sigh, he crawled out of bed, pulling a hoodie over his bare chest and sitting at the table in his boxers. He pulled his laptop toward him and powered it up. He sa there and read until Dean woke up again at 8:00. He glanced over as his brother lazily stretched, bloodshot eyes completely serious. "I found our next hunt."
"Oh thank God." Dean leapt out of bed. "We have been stuck here for far too long."
"It has only been three days since we wrapped up our last hunt." Sam said.
"Yeah, and what was it? A simple salt and burn with no injuries to recuperate from and no angry relatives or ghostly friends knocking on our door. I am about to go completely insane." He pulled on his clothes and shoes. "I'll get breakfast, you pack up and you can tell me about it in the car."
Twenty minutes later, they were gone, leaving nothing but traces of salt in the doorway and on the windowsill and one devil's trap under the doormat.
"Dude, burgers for breakfast?" Sam grumbled as he dug through the greasy paper bag on the seat beside him.
"Hey, if you don't want it. . ." Dean's voice trailed off as he took a huge mouthful of his double bacon cheeseburger, extra bacon, extra cheese and extra onions. A massive glob of mustard dropped onto his chin and hung there quivering as he chewed, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk's.
Sam pulled out his cellphone, pretending to check his messages before snapping a picture, snickering to himself as he pulled out his chicken burger and unwrapped it.
"Wha' a' we 'ookin' for any-ow?' Dean mumbled around yet another massive mouthful.
Sam swallowed before answering. "It is definitely a demon this time. Omens have been showing up in Hazzard county for the last three weeks and six young women between the ages of 20 and 25 have gone missing, no bodies, no ransom notes, no clues left behind but massive amounts of sulphur on the windowsill. Besides, if I am dreaming about it, there are demons involver, maybe even THE demon."
"That just sweetens the pot. I have never heard of Hazzard county. How far away are we?" Dean asked.
"About five hours the way you drive, seven for normal people. And not a lot of people know where it is. It doesn't show up on most maps, but don't worry, I will get you there.
It was early afternoon when they pulled into the dusty little town known as Hazzard.
"Dude, this is the town that time forgot," Dean said, holding his cellphone out the window searching for a signal and having no luck. "Those gas pumps have to be from the early 70's and look at all the white picket fences."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Its not so bad. You want to check out the local law enforcement first?"
"No way man, those burgers were hours ago. I saw a place called the Boar's Nest on the way in. Let's eat!" Dean drove around the town square and back out the way they had come. "What do you want to bet they have red and white checkered tablecloths and peanuts in dishes? This is so old school. What?" Dean stopped as Sam grabbed his arm in one large fist.
"Look at that car." Sam gestured toward the other end of the parking lot.
"Wow, '69 Dodge Charger. Looks to be in pretty good condition. Someone in this town has good taste, although why they would want to paint it that god-awful orange is beyond me."
"Dean," Sam stopped his brother again as he continued on inside. "That is also the car from my dream."
"Well then," Dean replied. "Maybe we need to start by meeting the owner."
The bar was about half full of the lazy afternoon crowd. They didn't look up from their cards when the strangers came in.
Sam and Dean pulled out their chairs and took a seat at one of the corner tables where they could watch the room unobserved.
A leggy brunette in very short shorts sauntered up to the table and smiled down at them. "What can I get for y'all today?"
Dean smiled his most charming grin. "Can I get a menu. . .and maybe your number too?"
The girl laughed. 'Now I know y'all ain't from around here, Sugar! Special of the day is fried chicken and homemade Apple Pie. If ya got no objections, I'll bring it on out."
"Sounds great, and your number?" Dean dropped one eyelid in a slow suggestive wink.
"I reckon you'll have to get that from my cousins, those two strong, handsome young men at the bar."
Dean turned to look at them. The blond one with his back to them easily rivalled Sam for height and the shorter, dark one moved like a boxer. Dean contemplated it for a moment before shaking his head and facing Sam again. "No sense in getting in a fist fight until after I have had my pie," he muttered. Sam snickered.
The girl was soon back with their order. " So where are you from, Cutie?" She asked, putting her hand on Sam's shoulder.
"W-we're uh. . .FBI," Sam stuttered.
"Yeah," Dean cut in smoothly. "Agents Paige and Plant. We are here to investigate the missing girls, although I can see we might have a more pressing case to attend to."
"Oh, and what's that, Sweet Thing?" She asked with her hand still holding Sam's shoulder.
"Those shorts," Dean said gravely. "They're practically criminal."
The girl laughed it off and, still addressing Sam, said, "My name is Daisy Duke."
"It would be," Dean muttered under his breath. Sam shot him a warning look.
"Enjoy your meal, y'hear? And if there is anything I can do to help out with your investigation, y'all let me know." With one wink at Sam, she turned and was heading back to the bar.
"Oh, I will." Dean's voice lowered half a tone and took on a faint hint of huskiness. Sam stomped on his foot under the table.
"Do you have to do that?" he whispered fiercely.
"Do what?" Dean asked innocently.
"Make everything sound so. . .dirty. Or is it just that you couldn't bear the fact that she was more into me?"
Dean just grinned. "Only in your dreams pretty boy. You know, this might not be such a bad place after all." He started shovelling his food in with gusto, enjoyment growing with each bite. By the time he got to the pie, Dean was in heaven.
"Sam, I am going to marry that girl," he said as he inhaled his last forkful, stopping in midchew as a large calloused hand came down on his shoulder.
"Better men than you have tried and failed." The deep voice belonged to the brunette man that had been standing by the bar.
"And how do you know that?" Dean asked, grinning cheekily.
"Well, do you see a wedding ring on her finger?"
"No," Dean smirked. "How do you know they were better men?"
The stranger laughed and sat down. "My name is Luke Duke and that there is my cousin Bo. Bo, c'mere!" He shouted across the room. Sam turned to look as the man strode over and could feel his face turn white. He had found the car, he had found the man and now he had to find the Demon before Bo's future came to pass.
.~o()o~.
A/N You know the drill. Let me know what you think!