--1--
Dean slammed the shot glass down on the bar.
"Bad night?" asked a female voice. Dean grimaced. Yeah, he'd come here looking to pick someone up, but he was starting to rethink that. Not that female company was unappreciated or anything, but...he shook his head.
"Yeah," he said, looking up. Then he blinked in surprise. The girl, who was gorgeous was wearing a tuxedo-style leotard of sorts with fishnet stockings. He whistled. "Nice get-up. Where'd you come from? A birthday party?"
She raised an eyebrow. "Well aren't you the charmer," she teased, grabbing the bar stool next to him. "I don't exactly do birthday parties anymore, but I am a magician. Sort of."
He looked at her warily. "So you walk around wearing that all day?"
She crossed her legs strategically. "What? Don't like the view, big boy?"
Dean took another shot. "No complaints here. Just curious. You kind of stick out." He looked around them at the seedy bar with its shady customers. The brunette in front of him definitely didn't blend in.
She grinned. "Maybe that's the point."
"I'm Dean," he said finally.
"Zatanna," she said, smiling.
He gave her a funny look.
"Family name," she said with a sparkling laugh.
"Bummer. What are you drinking, Za—Zeta—what was it again?"
"Call me Zanna."
"Right. What'll it be, Zanna?"
"I don't drink."
"You're in a bar."
"Came here looking for something actually."
"Oh?" He looked at her suspiciously. This chick was getting weirder by the minute.
"There's someone in the area, an old family friend I've been looking for."
"Who's that?"
"John Winchester."
Dean choked. "What?"
Zatanna frowned at him. "Do you know him?"
"You might say that," he said, looking at her incredulously.
"Well, I'm not completely sure he's in town. I've just...seen some signs indicating he might be in the area..."
Dean groaned.
"What?"
"John Winchester is dead. Passed away a couple of years ago."
Zatanna's hand went to her mouth. "Oh god." Her eyes blinked back a sudden surge of tears.
"How did you know him?" they asked each other simultaneously.
Zatanna answered first. "He was friends with my father. Used to come around asking for information on...certain things. My father was a sort of specialist on ancient legends and myths, you might say."
Dean nodded. Yeah, that sounded about right. He looked at the girl and wondered how much she knew about what her own father was probably involved with.
"So how did you know him?" Zatanna prompted.
"He was my dad," Dean grumbled.
She looked shocked. "You're Dean Winchester?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Yep."
"Where's Sam?" she asked, looking around her expectantly.
He gave her a wry look. "He and I do actually separate once in a while."
She laughed. "Sorry, but if I can't talk to your dad, he's the next best person."
He narrowed his eyes at her. "What do you want with Sammy?"
She searched his eyes. "You are a very protective older brother," she ascertained, leaning back again. "Relax, Fido. I'm not going to hurt him. I just need to talk to him."
"Well maybe I can help you."
"I don't think so."
"Why not?"
She pursed her lips. "Trust me. Sam's the one I need to see. Tell you what, you tell me where your brother is, I'll return the favor."
He raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do you think you can do for me?"
"More than you realize. So what's it going to be?"
"Listen, lady, I'm not telling you where my brother is for some ambiguous favor I don't really need."
"All I want is to talk to him."
"Fine, then I can go with you."
She smiled mischievously, rising from the bar stool. "That will be fine." She turned around and started heading for the door. She glanced over her shoulder to see him still seated at the bar. "Coming?" she asked.
Dean shrugged, pushing away from the bar and dropping cash for his tab. This was going to be an incredibly weird night, he could tell.
Dean shook his head. She'd wanted to talk to Sam because of the psychic thing?
No matter how small a world he felt like he was a part of, it seemed like someone new was always showing up who knew way too much about it. How did all the crazies in this world manage to find each other?
Sam had been more than a little shocked by the woman's appearance. Of course, when she'd given proof of friendship with both Sam and Dean's dad as well as with Missouri, he'd become slightly more trusting.
The girl was sort of a well of information on the subject. She actually started recommending several people for Sam to go and talk to to start getting a harness on the ability.
When they asked why it was she had been looking for John, she became ambiguous. "I was hoping he'd have something I've been looking for, but I won't bother you with that."
"What?" Dean asked.
"Nothing. Don't worry about it. You two don't have it."
"How do you know?"
"I'd be able to sense it's presence."
"You are one freaky chick."
She only laughed. "Shockingly enough, I get that a lot." She rose from the sofa where she'd been sitting with Sam and walked over to Dean, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. "So tell me, Dean, what is it you want? You gave me what I wanted, so I owe you that favor."
Dean shrugged, her eye contact making him nervous.
Sam coughed, excusing himself from the room.
"Forget it," he said, moving away from the wall and dodging her at the same time. "This one's on the house. We'll call you the next time we lose a rabbit in a hat."
She laughed softly. "Men. Always so eager to run away from what you want."
He turned on her. "Now listen, lady. Who said--" he stopped in surprise. She wasn't advancing on him anymore, but when his eyes caught hers again, hers suddenly glowed electric blue. His mouth fell open.
Oh shit.
She smirked and brushed past him. "Have fun, Dean. I hope you enjoy it."
"Hey wait a second!" he chased out the door of the motel and after her. She was gone.
Oh hell no! This was not good.
The next morning Dean woke to an unfamiliar place and an unfamiliar girl.