Author notes: Missing scene from Red Sky At Morning. Some lines of dialog were taken more or less verbatim from the episode and are credited to Laurence Andries. Once again, a hearty thankyou to tanaquisga for her amazing betawork! She makes me seem a far better writer than I am.
Double Date
By AmandaK
Sam watched Bela over the edge of the old photo, taut with mistrust and suspicion. Whatever she was up to, it couldn't be any good. If came down to it, he'd trust Ruby, a demon, before he'd trust the woman now leaning on the rickety table, explaining about the ghost ship. After all, Ruby had saved his life, while Bela—well, she'd shot him. That wasn't something Sam would easily forget. Or forgive.
Yet despite his skepticism, Sam found himself caught up in the thrill of finally getting some answers. And apparently, so was his brother, since Dean no longer looked ready to chuck Bela out ass over teakettle if she so much as squinted at them wrong.
"I don't get it, why are you telling us all this?" Dean asked.
Bella showed her perfect, white teeth, and Sam was reminded of a shark. "Because I know exactly where the hand is." She paused for effect, and Dean obliged her.
"Where?"
"At the Sea Pines Museum of Maritime History. But I need help."
"What kinda help?" Sam said.
Her grin widened, and Sam's stomach fluttered with apprehension. Here it comes, he thought.
"Well," she said, in that clipped accent that Sam wasn't entirely sure wasn't real—which actually made it worse, "There's a fund raiser at the museum tonight. Invitation only."
"So? We'll wait until tomorrow before we go in." Dean slouched back in his chair.
Her eyes flashed. "That'll be too late."
"Too late for what?" Dean asked. "You on a timetable or something?"
She opened her mouth, shut it again, and then said after a moment's hesitation, "Someone else might die."
Sam blew out a breath. "Dean, she's right. The sooner we get our hands on the... eh... Hand, the better." Not to mention they could leave the Eastern seaboard, and Bela, in their rear view mirror at the earliest opportunity.
Bela rewarded Sam with a bright smile that might've weakened his knees if he hadn't known full well what a calculating bitch she really was, or what she was capable of. "I knew you'd see reason." Her smile dimmed and her features shifted into a more businesslike expression. "And I know where to obtain invitations."
Dean quirked a brow.
"Gert Case. She's on the museum's Board of Trustees." Bela folded her arms in front of her chest. "I've already spoken to her. She's willing to provide us with invitations." She paused, and pinned Sam with a look he didn't much like. "For a price."
"A price?" Dean repeated. "What price?"
Again, Bela's lips curled up in a smirk. Something sparked in her eyes. Amusement? Sam was sure he wasn't gonna like where this was going, at all.
"She wants Sam."
For a long minute, the silence that hung in the room was so heavy that Sam thought he could feel its weight bearing down on him. He struggled to find his voice.
"What?!" he burst out at the exact same moment as Dean.
Bela giggled. "Oh, you boys... Have you ever tried your hand at stand-up comedy?"
Dean glared at her with narrowed eyes, looking ready to rip her head off if she didn't explain herself right now, and Sam could tell Dean thought Bela and Gertrude Case had some nefarious supernatural plan for his brother. But Sam realized that what Gert wanted from him was something much more mundane. He wasn't sure which he'd prefer, given the choice.
"No," he rasped. His voice sounded strangled even to his own ears. "No way." He recalled the touch of her finger stroking his, her skin dry and brittle. He shuddered and stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his pants as if hiding them would help banish the memory. "No. Find another way."
"Oh, come on, Sam," Bela complained with an exaggerated sigh. "Don't be such a spoilsport. It's not like she's going to eat you."
"No? You sure about that?" Sam wished he was as confident as Bela; he'd seen the hungry look in Gertrude's gaze as it roved across his body.
"Sometimes, Sammy," Bela crooned, "you got to take one for the team. Didn't your big brother teach you that?"
"It's Sam," he snarled. "And there are limits."
Dean was watching them, his head jerking back and forth. "What're you...?" He fell silent, the question half-finished, and studied Sam for a moment. Sam could tell the exact instant understanding entered Dean's brain. Dean's eyes crinkled, the right corner of his mouth curled upward and...
Sam would never have thought he could feel honest-to-God hatred for his brother, not really, but right there and then, he fiercely wished he could throttle Dean.
...Dean started to laugh. A full-on belly laugh that had him bent over and gasping in seconds. Sam glared at him, lips pressed tight, hands balled into fists, quivering.
"Oh, Sammy," Dean panted between gulps of air. "Dude, this is so American Gigolo."
"If you think it's that funny, why don't you do it, Dean? It's not like you're particularly discriminating in your choice of women."
"Come on, lads. Let's not be over-dramatic here," Bela interrupted before they could get into it for real. "Gert's a lonely widow who merely wants to be seen with a handsome man on her arm. An escort, a..." She paused to search for a word. "Think of it as a date."
"Yeah, come on, Sam. Easiest way we ever crashed a party."
Sam huffed, but he knew they were right. If they could get into the museum legitimately, it'd make the job so much easier. But still... Gertrude Case as his date? Ew.
Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. "Well, all right. But only to get us those invites. As soon as we get the Hand, I'm outta there."
"Fair enough." Bela twirled on her heel and headed for the door. Dean was still snickering and shooting Sam lecherous looks when she stopped in the opening and said over her shoulder, "Oh, before I forget: it's a black-tie affair. I trust you boys know where to get tuxedos?"
Sam took what little solace he could from the way the smirk evaporated from Dean's face, to be replaced by a look of petrified horror.
"Say what?" his brother yelped.
Bela's laughter followed her out until the door fell shut behind her.
Disclaimer: This story is based on the Warner Bros. Television/Wonderland Sound and Vision/Eric Kripke/Robert Singer series Supernatural. It was written for entertainment only; the author does not profit from it nor was any infringement of copyright intended. Please do not redistribute elsewhere without the author's consent.
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