The crystal glasses sparkled like so many diamonds beneath the reflected light of the dazzling chandeliers, suspended like enormous baubles from the ceiling of the huge salon.
The place was swarming with bejewelled and elegant guests who seemed to want nothing more than to flaunt their riches.
:
'Not exactly our usual kind of gig,' Dean commented, deftly palming a fluted glass of champagne from the tray of a passing waiter.
Sam gave a lop-sided grimace of agreement, while pulling irritably at the tight collar of his dress shirt. 'Thank god hunts like this are few and far between. I hate wearing evening clothes.'
'Reminds me of the time you were cougared by that love-sick senior when we were hunting a ghost back in the day,' Dean chuckled.
'Love-sick, senior, my ass,' Sam growled, remembering the roving hands of the 'lady', intent on groping the aforementioned butt.
:
'A pretty little thing like you shouldn't be on his own,' a deep, purring, voice cooed unexpectedly at Dean's back.
'I'm not,' Dean replied quickly, balking at the sight of the botoxed and spray-tanned elderly woman. 'I'm with my brother.'
She cast a discerning eye over Sam. 'Cute, but incest is prohibited in this state.'
:
Dean couldn't help the flush of irritation that coloured his cheeks, even if he understood she was only making a pitch; while Sam looked on amused at his big brother's discomfort.
Snaking an arm though his, she pulled him away. 'Come with me, I'll introduce you to some interesting people.'
'Yeah, Dean,' Sam smirked. 'I'm sure this enchanting young lady will keep you right.'
If looks could kill, Sam would've been dog-meat. But Sam was good. Let Dean take one for the team this time!