So I had this idea to write a one-shot, set after Mystery Spot, about Sam readjusting to Dean being alive. But things kind of... spiralled on a little from there, as they do. This is the result. Multipart, between Mystery Spot and Jus in Bello. My first fic (oh, the heady rush). Reviews would be awesome.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, and I'd need advice on what to do with them if I did.

Look Both Ways

From the grey stone steps that lead up into the world, a sudden murmur of sound. Two voices descending into the jail, coming closer. Shoes echo on the concrete.

Half of the prisoner population jerks his head up at the noise. "Hey, Jack. Think that's your partner?"

"I hope so."

God, I hope so. Please, I can't take another night in here.

"Oh, okay. So you'll have to go now. That's cool. Listen, man, this was awesome, I mean, sharing a cell with an FBI agent? Wait'll they let me go and I tell everyone, my ma'll go ape. She doesn't trust the government – uh, I mean, not in that way, not in like a bad way obviously, uh, she just kinda has a problem with authority figures and stuff –"

Ted's verbal meanderings are brought to a halt as the visitors to his and Sam Winchester's little underworld stroll into view in the electric half-light. One is, as you'd expect, the town Sheriff, greying and paunchy, down-at-mouth, currently trying his damnedest to act subservient. The other is wearing a black suit that's served as everything from clerical gear to night-time camouflage, funeral attire to chick-pickup accessory, and several far stranger things as well, and he's grinning. He's also waiting for Sam to speak first, as he doesn't yet know what name his little brother's been using.

"Hello, Morgan."

Dean's smile gets a little more brilliant. "Jack." He shakes Sam's hand through the bars. "It's damn good to see you again. Little dose of real life busted up your game, huh?"

"Sure looks that way."

"Once again, Agent… Agents, excuse me," interjects the Sheriff, "I just want to apologise on behalf of the Department for interfering with your operation. I hope we haven't set you too far back."

Dean rounds on him good-naturedly. "For the last time, Clarence, may I call you Clarence? It's one of the risks of undercover work. We try to account for the possibility whenever we can. We'll get our man yet."

Enough talking. Get me out of this cell. Get me out. Get me out, get me –

The barred door swings open, and Sam still has enough self-possession to walk out instead of bolting.

"Hey, Jack?"

Oh, what now? "Yeah, Ted. What is it?" Sam can see, out of the corner of his eye, the Sheriff clamping down on a knee-jerk no talking to the Agents, you scumbag reaction.

"Why'd you say what you said when they brought you in here?"

"I didn't say anything when they brought me down here."

Ted's eyes light up in perplexion. "You did though. You said something about Hell. 'Why the same Hell?' or something. Don't you remember?"

Sam can feel Dean's eyes flick to the back of his neck and stay there. Why do random people we meet keep expositing like this? "I didn't say anything like that."

He turns, meets Dean's gaze for a second, and heads towards the daylight.

SNSNSNSNSN

"So what happened?" Dean asks, pulling the Impala's driver door shut. "The contact rat you out? I swear, if we catch up to him, he'll need to learn how to forge without thumbs." He starts the engine with vigour.

"It wasn't the contact." Sam, sitting in the back, busies himself with the lockpick that the brothers keep under the central cushion. "He never showed. And since when do you talk Mafia?"

"Since a simple goddamn credit card drop turns into a full night's incarceration."

"Big word."

"Bite me. So why'd they bust you if it wasn't a tip-off?"

Sam pops open his left cuff with a satisfying click. "They arrested me on suspicion of kidnapping."

"What?"

"Yeah. Seems a couple of local kids went missing. And the last place anyone saw either of 'em for sure was crossing the road in front of the school, on their way home. At the crossing-guard point, right where I was supposed to pick up the cards."

"Huh. So they saw you loitering and jumped to conclusions."

"Yep." The other cuff comes undone and Sam drops the chains into a snaky pattern on the floor, and clambers forward into the Impala's passenger seat.

"Dude, I had the keys to those cuffs."

"Practice makes perfect. Man, sunset? How long was I in there?"

"It's only half of four, Sammy. Dark time of year."

That's right. It's five months ago. I really need to start remembering that.

Dean sighs and stabs aimlessly at the radio. "Well, today turned out to be a big heap of no fun at all. This town's a bust. I say we hit the freeway and try and pick up Bela's trail. We're letting her get too far ahead as it is."

"Pick up Bela's trail. With no leads except that she was in Colorado four days ago. And with no ready money."

"We've gone on for nearly a month without cash before."

"We weren't chasing someone before. Dean, we should stay here a couple days at least. Get ourselves some cash, update the inventory, rest up. Bela's too slippery to go up against unprepared." What's more, you know it. You're getting broody again. You want to stay and help the kids, don't you? "We could even check out those disappearances. Never know, it might be our kind of case."

"What, we're gonna stumble on a case because one of us has the bad luck to get pinched for it?" There's nothing in Dean's voice to suggest gratitude. His father would have read nothing there but amused disbelief.

You're welcome, Dean.

"Stranger things have happened. Recently. And we need a break. It's not like there's gonna be anything better to do in this town."

"Alright, fine." A smooth turn of the wheel, dust and pebbles forming a pleasing arc in the headlights. "But if it turns out they're… playing Doctor with the expansion pack in some treehouse, you get to pour on the cold water."

"They were brother and sister, Dean."

"Can't keep true love down."

"Gross, dude. Just gross."

So we're staying in town. And Dean thinks it was his idea. Check, and check.