"Who the fuck were those two?" Dean practically shouted, tearing off his tie and throwing it across the room as he stormed into the hotel. Sam followed him, noticeably less riled up.

"Dean, Jesus, calm down. So a couple of other hunters beat us to it. It's not the end of the world."

"The Fed thing is our game, Sam. We do the Fed thing."

"Dean, all the hunters who are any good do the Fed thing."

Dean turned to his brother, jerking a thumb back at himself. "We do the rock star names."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh my God, Dean, calm the fuck down. Just because someone else went as Agents Sambora and Sixx today... man. I hate to say this, but have a drink or something." Sam sat down at the small table, loosening his tie and opening his laptop.

"I just want to know who the hell those women were." Dean stated, taking Sam's advice and pouring himself a glass of scotch. "They made us look like assholes."

"You made yourself look like an asshole, Dean."

"I resent that remark." Dean frowned at Sam. Sam, in true fashion, ignored him.

"They looked really familiar. I know I've seen them before somewhere. Just let me look for a second... I think... yup." He pulled up a surveillance video and spun the laptop around so Dean could see. It was from a case they'd worked on last year- a siren in a strip club. "See the two strippers nearest the camera?"

Dean sat at the table and peered at the screen.

"You keep strip club surveillance footage on your laptop?" Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother.

"Just watch the video, Dean. It was from a case."

Dean shot his brother a disbelieving look and brought his eyes back to the footage. The woman closest to the camera had long blonde hair, all curled up like a victoria's secret model. She was wearing some kind of pink sparkly scarf-like lingerie and huge clear heels, and was spinning around the pole. The dancer to her left had big, ebony hair with bleach blond tips that fell around her head like a waterfall, and flawless dark brown skin. She was dressed as a cowgirl, in the smallest shorts Sam was pretty sure he'd ever seen, on the longest pair of legs. Dean was pretty sure those shorts were why Sam had kept the video, even if he would never admit it.

"I feel like I'm watching an Aerosmith video." Sam mumbled, transfixed.

"I feel like this is about to devolve into a Casa Erotica DVD." Dean said, throwing back the last of his scotch. "So who are they?"

"Keep watching. You haven't seen the best part." Sam told him.

"Do they take their clothes off?" Dean asked, interest piqued.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Just watch." The video continued to roll, and the girls continued to dance. Suddenly, a hand came up and grabbed the one woman, the cowgirl, by the ass. In one fluid motion, she had hauled the gigantic biker up next to her, roundhouse kicked him in the face, and thrown his ass right back off the stage. Sam paused the video as the blonde in the pink lingerie dove off of her platform to attack the man, grabbing a bottle as she went.

"What the hell did I just watch?" Dean's eyes were wide. "Holy shit. She straight up Chuck Norris'd his ass."

"Yeah." Sam nodded. "And then the other one attacked him with a bottle."

"That explains why they weren't there when we showed up to poke around. They definitely got fired after that." Dean shook his head at the computer. "On the bright side, that's the last time that douche will ever grab a stripper's ass."

Sam nodded. "And that wasn't even what they were hunting. That's why I remembered this video. Dean, meet the Johnson Twins."

"Those are the Johnson Twins?" Dean raised his eyebrows. "I thought the Johnson Twins were dead."

Sam shrugged. "Apparently not."

"You got any more on them?"

Sam nodded. "Give me a few hours. They hide themselves better than we do."

"The Johnson Twins..." Sam sat back from his computer a couple of hours later, stretching, his back cracking. "Glory and Desi Johnson. Not actually twins, not even sisters. Cousins actually, twice removed on their mother's side. They come from a whole family of hunters. Their parents were killed when they were little, and they were raised together by an aunt, who appears to have been a witch and kept them out of hunting as long as she could. At sixteen, they dropped out of school and took to the road. And apparently haven't looked back since." He spun the laptop around once again to show Dean a series of mugshots. Glory was the blonde, Desi the brunette. Dean was impressed. They had a lot of mugshots, all under different names. They looked nonchalant in all of them.

"Jeez, they're even hot in their mugshots." Dean let out a low whistle. Sam rolled his eyes.

"They're super deadly. And a little bit nuts, it looks like. You remember that vampire nest we came up on in Colorado last year? The one with like, twelve headless vamps laying around?"

"That place was a fucking bloodbath. They weren't just headless- those guys were straight up mincemeat. And we got to bury all of them because some asshole hunters can't clean up their own mess." Dean frowned. "That was them?" Sam nodded. "How the hell did they kill twelve vamps? There are only two of them."

"I dunno Dean. But it looks like we're gonna have to play nice on this one, because they're already here and we need information on this case."

"How'd they fake their own death? You got anything on that?"

Sam shook his head. "No. I mean, you heard same as I did, they pulled a Thelma and Louise off the Grand Canyon. Not sure how they got out of that one."

Dean stood up from his resting place at the foot of his bed, tucked his gun into the back waistband of his jeans, and grabbed his jacket. "Well, I feel like finding out. Wanna take a ride with me, Sammy? There's only so many places a couple of hunters can be staying in this town."

to be continued...