Sam squirmed against the cold metal of the butcher's table. The restraints on his wrists were cutting off his circulation.
The succubus paced the circumference of the table, growling under her breath, "where is he? Where is he?"
Sam knew she meant Dean, she'd been hoping to trap both of them and had used him as bait.
There was a loud clatter, and a screech, and then Dean was standing over him, grinning as he untied the bonds on Sam's wrists.
He held up the silky object, and smirked at his brother.
"She tied you up with her bra, dude."