okay, so new story...totally gratuitous on my part...but, so far a fun story to write...enjoy!!
Strip Search
Chapter One
"Dean, I'm not sure this is our kind of problem," Sam said, glancing at the building they were parked outside of.
"Three unexplained murders where the victims eyeballs appeared to be sucked out of the sockets, doesn't sound like our kind of problem to you, Sammy?" Dean raised a quizzical brow, a hint of humor in his green eyes.
"Could just be some crazed psycho killer." Opening his laptop, Sam pulled up the information he'd uncovered about the three deaths, studied it carefully, and then frowned. "Okay, it is our kind of problem, but I still don't want to do this."
"Since when haven't you wanted to take on a hunt?" Eying Sam, Dean chuckled.
"Since the idea of this particular hunt became so damn appealing to you."
"What can I say, dude, I've got hidden talents just beggin' to be explored." Dean opened the door, and stepped out of the Impala.
"Maybe you do, but I sure as hell don't," Sam grumbled, as he got out of the car, and slammed the door behind him. "Why can't we just do what we always do, break in after everyone is gone, case out the joint and find out what's going on?"
Dean strode away from Sam, calling back over his shoulder, "Place closes at like three in the morning, dude, when do you suppose we break in?" At the entrance of the building, he stopped and waited for Sam to catch up. After a few minutes, he turned and noticed Sam still standing by the car tapping his fingers on the roof. "Try picking up your feet, you might get here faster, Sammy. It's just another hunt, dude, no different from any other."
"Okay, but if I do this, you have to swear that when we're finished, we'll never talk about it again."
Dean raised two fingers, bending the rest. "Scout's honor."
"Yeah, like you were ever a Boy Scout."
"True, but I once kicked a Boy Scout's ass back in eighth grade. Does that count?"
"No, Dean. It doesn't count." Stalking to the entrance, Sam opened the door and went inside, and Dean followed. "Stop smirking, Dean," he called back to his brother.
"Wasn't smirking."
"Yeah, you were. Think this is so damn funny, don't you?"
"Think it has the potential for humor, yes, but I wasn't smirking. Chuckling to myself maybe, but not smirking."
"Whatever, dude." Sam stopped at the bar, and waited for the tall blonde behind the counter to glance up at him. After a few moments, he cleared his throat to gain her attention.
She looked up from her paperwork, and smiled. "Can I help you?"
"Yeah . . . um . . . no." Sam turned to leave, but Dean stopped him.
"We called earlier about the jobs you had advertised."
"Ah, you must be Dean, and he is Sam, right?" The woman came out from behind the counter, and sat on a bar stool. "My name's Karen, and I'm the owner and manager of the Hot Spot." As she spoke, Karen's gaze roved over both boys, and she smile appreciatively. "Have you ever done this kind of work before?"
"Yes."
"No."
Dean turned his head to look at Sam, his brows pulling together, and then returned his attention to her. "What my brother means to say, is that he hasn't actually worked at it yet, but I've taught him everything I know." Putting his arm around Sam's shoulder, Dean squeezed his brother's arm. "Isn't that right, Sammy."
"Yeah, everything I know, Dean taught me," Sam said, a fake smile plastered to his face.
Karen was silent for a moment as she continued to appraise the boys, and then she nodded. "Okay, take off your shirts and pants."
"Come again," Sam asked incredulously, his brows raising considerably, and then turned to glare at Dean.
"Your shirt and pants, Sammy." Dean chuckled. "She wants to make sure her clientele get what they pay for."
Sam glanced at her, and held up an index finger. "Can you give us a sec, have to talk to my brother." Before Dean or Karen could say anything, Sam grabbed his brother's arm and dragged him away.
When he was sure they were out of earshot of Karen, Sam punched Dean in the shoulder. "Everything I know, dude. I don't dance, Dean, an' the last time I checked, neither did you."
Dean glanced in Karen's direction, bobbed his head toward her and smiled, and she returned the gesture. "How hard can it be, Sammy? It's not like anyone's really gonna be paying attention to how we dance anyway."
"So not the point, Dean." Sam shook his head, exasperated that his brother refused to listen to reason. "Last time I checked, hunting demons and spirits didn't involve taking off our clothes in front of a room full of women."
"It does when the last three victims of whatever this is, were male strippers who worked here."
Pursing his lips, Sam nodded. "Fine, Dean, we'll do this, but don't expect me to get up there on stage and dance, cause it's so not gonna happen."
"Awww . . . sure you will, Adonis."
"Adonis?"
"Your stage name, dude . . . mine's Ecstasy."
"You've given this way too much thought, dude," Sam said, and shaking his head, he stalked back to where Karen was sitting, and Dean followed.
"So, are you boys ready now or do you need a few more minutes?" Karen looked from Dean to Sam and then back again. "Cause I have a lot of work to do before the club opens in a few hours."
"Naw, we're good." Dean smiled and slowly, almost teasingly, began unbuttoning his flannel shirt. He eased out of one sleeve and then the other, exposing his taut muscular chest, and let the shirt slip to the floor.
Sam stared at him in disbelief as Dean unbuckled his belt, and slowly pulled it through the belt loops. Flexing his pecs, Dean trailed his fingers down his muscular chest, and undid his jeans, easing them off at a leisurely pace, then stepped out of them.
"Very nice." Karen nodded in approval. "Rock hard abs, nice pecs, sexy, rugged face," she twirled her index finger, "turn around."
Spreading his arms, Dean slowly pivoted, stopping briefly so she could look him over, and then faced her again.
"Oh, yeah, the girls are gonna love you." She smiled, then turned to Sam. "Now you."
Clearing his throat, Sam turned his head to look at her, and smiled awkwardly, then glanced back at Dean, and gave a slight shake of his head.
"Come on, Sammy, she hasn't got all day. Show her those sexy abs." Dean nudged his head in her direction as he gave Sam a look of warning.
Sam returned his attention to Karen. Unbuttoning each button of his flannel shirt with one hand, Sam then shrugged it of his muscular shoulders, and let it fall to the floor. Karen's green-eyed gaze roved over his firm flat abs as he undid the button on his jeans and eased out of them. He pivoted slowly and allowed her to look him over, and grimaced at Dean when he saw him smirking.
"Gotta say, I'm not disappointed. When can you boys start?" The grin on Karen's face slid away, a sad frown replacing it. "Normally, I would want to check into your backgrounds first, but I'm kinda desperate what with all the bad things going on around here. Lost two more dancers this morning, after they heard Johnny is now missing."
"Missing?" Both Sam and Dean said simultaneously, both forgetting momentarily that they were standing there in their boxers.
"Yeah, he left here two nights ago, and no one has heard from him since." Karen worriedly bit at her lower lip. "The police have no leads, and what with three deaths, they're threatening to shut the place down."
"Did you happen to notice anything strange occurring around here before the three murders?" Dean asked, trying his best to sound casual as he bent and snatched his shirt off the floor.
"No, not really." Karen hesitated, then she glanced in the direction of the back of the bar. "Well, that's not exactly true. Several times, someone has written, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, on the bathroom mirrors."
Sam and Dean eyed each other for a moment, before returning their attention to her.
"What did the police say about it?" Sam asked as he pulled on his jeans and buttoned them. He then bent and grabbed his shirt, pulled it on, and buttoned it.
"Didn't tell them." She lowered her head, clasping her fingers together, and Sam could tell she was ashamed at having kept the secret. "I know it sounds horrible, but I can't afford to have them close the place down. I've sunk every last penny I have into this bar, and if they close it, I'll lose everything."
"I'm sure it meant nothing, Karen," Dean placated her as he slipped on his jeans. "Look, we have to get going, but we can start as soon as possible."
"How about tonight?" Karen glanced up at Dean, a hopeful look on her face.
"Sure, tonight is good for us, isn't it, Sammy?"
"Yeah, the sooner the better," Sam replied, still thinking about what someone or something had scrawled on the mirror.
"Okay, see ya tonight around eight o'clock."
"We'll be here," Dean said.
The boys walked away, and when they were outside they both turned back to look at the place.
"Vengeful spirit?" Dean asked.
"Don't know, Dean. I'm thinkin' it has something to do with their eyes."
Dean nodded. "Beauty's in the eye of the beholder. Something that wanted to take revenge out on them because of how they looked?"
"Not sure." Sam swung, and headed for the car, and Dean strode after him. "They say the eyes are the windows of the soul. Maybe this thing looked into their eyes and saw their soul and didn't like what it saw."
"Huh . . . a vengeful spirit with a moral conscience." Dean shook his head. "I don't know, Sammy."
"Well, it's all we have to go on for now, until we do some more digging."
"Okay, let's head to the library and find out more about this land."
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Gratuitous, yes, but who wouldn't want to see Sam and Dean as male strippers!! almost too much hotness to think about!!! let me know what you think!! bambers;)