"I've got one of a rose right here".
It's 11 o'clock in the evening and Marcie's Lucky Spot apparently is the place to be in Paragould. The bar 80's style bar is crowded and cosy. Glory Days by Bruce Springsteen is playing on the stereo system and everyone seems to be laughing and having fun. A pretty blonde, dressed in a low cut white top, a pair of skinny jeans and high heels is sitting at the bar and shows Dean her subtle tattoo on her wrist. Dean smirks, nothing more sexy then a bit of delicate ink on a gorgeous girl.
"A rose, I presume that stands for beauty", he comments with a smirk.
The look that he gives her would blow every girls mind away. Then there's that smile, a smile of a little boy up to no good. She chuckles and looks down, pretending to be shy.
"You don't happen to have your boyfriend's name written somewhere, I hope?", Dean checks.
Again she laughs and shakes her head.
"No, I don't have a boyfriend", she admits.
"Thank God for that", Dean glances up for a moment and smiles back at her. "But tell me, how can a girl like Denise be single".
"They're not all charmers like you, I guess", she flirts.
He grins, she has no idea. He gently puts his hand around her wrist and checks out the tattoo.
"You have more of these pieces of art?", he asks curious.
"I do actually, one other", her blue eyes look deep into his, she comes closer to whisper something in his ear. "It's an little arrow, down here…"
Dean can't help to glare down that area for just a second, than he lifts his eyebrows. Okay, that is hot. When he looks back up at her, he can't help to stare at her lips for a moment. She's so close.
"Honey, I don't need directions", he whispers back with a grin on his face.
He moves even closer to Denise and kisses her. Without doubt she kisses him back as she closes her eyes and lets her hand glide down his neck. Then he looks at her again, his eyes sparkle. For a moment she seems overwhelmed by the kiss and stares at him, pleasantly surprised.

"Do you want to go else where?", he suggests.
"Sounds good", she answers, biting her lip sensually. "Just give me a sec to tell my friends that I'm leaving".
She gets off her stool and walks away, glancing at him over her shoulder. Her heels click on the wooden floor as she walks over to her girlfriends. He checks her out, grins and looks over at his brother, who's sitting in the back reading and making notes. Dean shakes his head disapproving. Unbelievable, he can't believe they are related.
"Hey dork, ever heard of having fun?", Dean crashes on the chair opposite of Sam.
Sam looks up from his notebook, considers to answer but decides to ignore him. He looks back down at an old looking book and continues writing. Dean sighs, this is a hopeless case.
"Sam, come on. We're not even on a case here", Dean notifies.
"I'm looking for info on Dad", Sam corrects.
"In a book?", Dean huffs disbelieving.
"I'm trying to figure out how he's hunting", Sam says, looking up from his book again.
"Just let it rest for a night, okay? Look at the girls in this bar, Sam", Dean glares at Denise, who waves at him as their eyes meet.
"Not interested", Sam makes clear.
"Seriously, just admit that you're gay then", Dean waves back at her and turns at his brother again.
"Hey, I wasn't the one who had sex with that shapeshifter", Sam brings up as he goes back to work.
"I didn't have sex with her!", Dean spits, then doubting his words. "…it".
"Him", Sam corrects.
Dean gags for a moment just thinking of it and glares at his brother annoyed.
"Look man, do whatever the hell you want, but the motel room is mine for the night", he states.

Sam looks up again, apparently he doesn't agree at all.
"Again?", he asks.
"Dude, that damn shifter scarred me for life! I need to take away this pain and my medicine is standing right over there, know what I'm sayin'?", Dean nods at the girl he just made out with.
Sam chuckles.
"Fine, but I want the car", he states.
Dean sighs, but agrees.
"Whatever. What are you doing tonight?", he asks curious, hoping that his brother might get out and shake the feeling he still carries around.
"I'll go look if I can find Zoë", he informs.
"Do that, maybe you can have some fun with her", Dean does his eyebrow thing and gets up.
"Did you call her?", Sam wants to know.
"No, she said to call her in a few days, not today", Dean remembers him.
"So? Just call her".
"Yeah, 'couse that's a real turn on for Denise. 'Hey Zo, wanna meet up again? I wanna pick up my stuff'", his brother responds sarcastically.
"Point taken", Sam admits. "Just give me your phone then".
"Na-ah", Dean walks towards the exit, where Denise still waits for him.
"Dean, come on!", Sam begs.
But the door closes behind them and Dean walks passed the window with his arm around Denise. As he passes by, he gives his brother a thumbs up. Sam shakes his head and can't help but to smile. That's Dean, he will never change. For a moment Sam goes back in time, wondering if his brother has always been like this. Yeah, pretty much, for as long as he can remember. Always after the girls, always making the best of the worst situation, always nagging his little brother. Sam closes both books and takes them under his arm as he gets up. It's time to find Zoë. With a laptop and his phone she'd be a tough one to track, not to mention without. Time to ask some questions and visit some motels. A blind search maybe, but this town isn't that big and the night is still young, who knows who he might run into.

The nights are warm this September. The moon is almost full and stands high in the dark blue sky. This time it's not the sun which shines a light on the thousands of tombstones, neither does it give the cemetery a graceful feel. Trees create long shadows, so black that you would almost be afraid to walk through them. Gravestones and statues of angels and other Bible figures don't seem sacred and honoring for the people buried in these grounds, but look down threatening the ones who dare to disturb them at this hour. If you'd walk around the stretched outlands of Linwood Cemetery, you would be rather sure the place is deserted. Never the less, someone is present. Not a grieving widow or someone else who was left behind, but a person who's literally digging up some dirt. Rhythmically equal amounts of soil fly through the air and land on a pile next to a hole in the ground. In the grave, Zoë is working like a miner. Even though it's night, all she's wearing is a thin Lakers basketball shirt. Sweat shimmers on her body as her muscles move under her skin. For a moment she pauses; she reckons she's almost there. Out of breath she listens to her surroundings and scans the area as a periscope of a submarine would do. Not a sound, nothing to see, but she senses something, alright. She can't really put a finger and she glares at the loaded shotgun next to her in the hole, but picks up the shovel instead. She continues digging and throws four loads of ground out of the grave. Then, suddenly Zoë goes for her shotgun, aims on pure gut and fires. The slug demolishes half a gravestone and barely misses a figure hiding behind it.
"Jesus Christ!", a voice cries out.
"Friends call me Zoë", she responds smartly and reloads her rifle.
She stays low to the ground and focuses on the tombstone from out the grave, prepared for a possible counter attack, but nothing comes.
"Show yourself", she commands.
A tall guy raises from behind the tombstone, his hands up.
"It's me", he says.
Then he steps into the moonlight and she recognizes him.
"Sam…", she huffs, actually not that surprised to see him. "Seriously man, there will come a day that I kill one of you Winchesters if you keep sneaking up on me like this".
"How on earth did you notice me?", Sam questions, disappointed in his own ambushing skills.
"Are you kiddin' me? I can smell you from a mile away after your dive in that septic tank", she nags.
Sam stares at her for a moment and smells himself.
"I showered!", he cries out.
Zoë smirks; she can't believe he actually bought that. Now also Sam realizes she got him right where she wants him and rolls his eyes.

"What if it was the night guard?", he tests her.
"If the night guard enters, I'll notice it the minute he sets foot on the cemetery", Zoë responds rapid as she puts away her shotgun and takes the shovel again.
Before she continues digging, she looks up at Sam.
"What the hell are you doing here anyway?", she asks.
"Looking for you", Sam answers as he approaches the hole.
"Well, you found me. Now get lost", she continues digging and seems bored by his presence.
"I'm not going anywhere without our stuff, Zo", Sam states.
She stops with what she was doing, leans on the handle of the shovel and gives him a look.
"Sure. Just a sec, I'll just pull your laptop case out of my back pocket and I think I stuffed the two duffel bags in my bra", she responds sarcastically.
"Haha…", he glares at her.
Zoë raises her brows for a second and continues while Sam halts on the edge of the hole and looks down. The hole isn't that interesting, it's probably 5 feet deep now, but that's not what he's looking at. Her hair hangs in front of her eyes in strings, sweaty from the hard work. Just as that moment in Rochester yesterday morning, she captures him in this strange way that he just can't keep his eyes off her. Then she meant to, just to make a point, but apparently this time she feels uncomfortable.
"What do you think this is? ?", she looks back up over her shoulder.
"Beg pardon?", Sam looks at her stunned.
"Don't get all innocent with me, boy. I happened to stumble on some browser internet history on your laptop, which is full of viruses because of that crap by the way", she notifies.
Sam stares at her, then the light bulb switches on.
"Dean", he sighs annoyed, then he turns to Zoë. "You've been on my computer?"
She has the direct feeling that this would be a good time to lie, considering Sam might do the same to her as she would do to Dean if he ever gets on her Harley Davidson again. Instead she doesn't, because come on; it is quite amusing.

"I did actually, it was quite a mess in there", she comments.
Sam looks away and grinds his teeth, which drawls a reaction from Zoë.
"Hey, don't be mad at me. I didn't screw up your computer with a dozen porn sites", she nags.
"I'm gonna kill him", Sam states.
"Ooh, don't wanna miss that", Zoë turns up the speed a bit, having an extra motivation to hurry up now.
The youngest of the Winchester brothers looks back down at her again.
"So this is your case?", Sam asks interested.
"Looks like it", she answers without pausing.
"What's the story?"
Zoë glances at him for a moment, but doesn't stop with what she's doing.
"Young girl, got beat up by her father. One strike killed her", she gives him a brief summary.
"Let me guess, what goes around comes around for the dad?", Sam guesses.
"Yep. Died yesterday", she says.
Wauw, she's quick, Sam realizes. It's not often that he has run a case that fast.
"How did you figure it all out in that period of time?", Sam asks curious.
"I did my research", Zoë responds shortly.
Apparently she doesn't wanna talk about how she works a case, her answers are short and slightly annoyed. A silence follows and he glances over at the gravestone.

Laura Emily Shire
Beloved daughter and sister
01.22.1995 – 07.17.2005

Rest in Peace

"Apparently not", Sam comments on the last sentence.
"What?", Zoë looks up.
"Nothin'. Need help?", he offers.
"Do I look like I need help?", she bounces back.
He shakes his head and ignores it. He should have known she wouldn't except a helping hand from him. So he watches, not for long though, because three swings later, Zoë hits the coffin. The sudden different noise draws Sam's attention. He glances over the side as Zoë wipes the sand away. An hardwood beech coffin is laid open. Zoë busts the hinges with her shovel and opens the coffin, after which she quickly backs out. It's one thing to burn just bones, but this little girl is actually still in a the rotting process.
"Argh… man, that's bad", Zoë covers her mouth and nose with her hand and turns at Sam, who hands over her backpack.
As she tries not to inhale, she takes out a bag of salt and small jerrycan filled with gasoline and drains the remains with both. Then she climbs out of the grave and takes a match out of her pocket. With a smooth strike she lights it and drops it down the hole. Almost immediately the fire spreads out and shines an orange light on their faces as the heat reaches them. She lets the body burn for a while and then shovels the dirt back in the hole. Sam wants to help, but she only brought one shovel, so there's not much he can do.
"How did you find me by the way?", Zoë asks curious when they walk back to the main gates of Linwood Cemetery.
"I drove by and saw your Harley on the parking lot of the motel. You weren't in your room and your bike was still there, so when I saw the cemetery right across the street, I just figured", he tells.
"I could have been at the Mc Donalds", she ponders.
"Could have, yeah", Sam admits smiling.
"Lucky guess, huh?", she grins as she climbs over the fence.
"Or coincidence", he adds.
"Let me tell you one thing, Sam. There's no such thing as coincidence", she looks up as he jumps down the steel gate.
They halt in front of the Sunset motel as Zoë puts on her jacket. Grave digging can be quite intense, but now that she's not doing anything, she feels cold. Before she walks inside she throws her backpack over her shoulder and turns around at Sam.

"What are you doing tonight?", she likes to know.
"Not much actually, Dean has a girl over at the motel", he sighs.
"Ah, I was wondering where the bastard was. Another one, ey? Not a shapeshifter this time?", she smirks at him, remembering the joke she pulled off on him.
"Not this time", Sam laughs too.
"You didn't tell him that you didn't really see if it was male or female, right?", Zoë checks.
"Nope", Sam's eyes sparkle for a moment, in the same way as Dean's eyes do so often.
"He probably has nightmares about it", Zoë enjoys the idea, but then turns to Sam. "You had any last night?"
Sam looks her in the eye and the sparkle disappears. He forgot about the fact that he opened up to Zoë about the strange dreams he's been having. He's happy to shake his head.
"No, I haven't. I slept quite well, actually. First time in a month", he says satisfied.
"Well, I didn't", she yawns and quickly covers her mouth with her hand. "I'm gonna catch some sleep".
Zoë intends to walk inside and leave Sam at the door, but he stops her.
"Aren't you forgetting something?"
A bit confused Zoë halts and looks back.
"You're not getting a kiss, so you can forget about that", she comments.
Sam glares at her. "Our stuff".
"Oh right, I knew that", she lies and walks into the Sunset Motel, followed by Sam.
As she opens the door to her room Zoë yawns again.
"That bad, huh?", Sam grins.
"Don't start", she cuts off and walks directly to the bathroom. "Let me fresh up, one sec".

One sec turns out to be five minutes, because after that amount of time she walks out of the bathroom, fresh and showered. Sam glares at her shirt and can't help but to smile.
"Seriously, Snoopy?", he smirks.
"I said 'don't start'", Zoë threatens with a laugh. "Your can find your stuff in the closet".
Sam looks around and opens the door. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees the duffel bags, but he can't spot his laptop.
"It's on the table, still hooked up to mine", she answers his unasked question.
"Why is it hooked up?", he walks over and notices the USB cable.
"Don't get all emotional about it, but I'm copying the Wiki to yours", she tells him.
Surprised he looks up. She actually did that, something nice without him asking? His thoughts about her keep improving, this is really thoughtful of her.
"Thanks", he says.
She looks aside and can hear he really means it. For a moment she touches the mouse and her screen lights up; it's still copying.
"Don't mention it, but I tell you what", she straightens her back and walks over to her bed. "It's still sending over the files, that might take another hour or so. If you don't have a place to stay anyway, why don't you hang out here?"
Another surprise, she just invited him in. Not that she would want anything from him, though.
"Sure, if you don't mind", Sam gladly excepts.
"As long as you shut your pinhole, I don't mind. I really need some sleep", she clears up as she crawls into bed and pulls the covers up till her nose.
"Remote is on the TV if you want to watch", she mumbles, her eyes already closed.
"Thanks, I'm good", he says as he sits down behind the table and looks at the screens.
"Hey Zo, is it alright if I…", Sam starts, but he doesn't finish his sentence.

Zoë is already far away, curled up like a dog, wrapped in her covers. She seems so peaceful and vulnerable, so unlike the Zoë Sullivan he knows. He smiles, she's quite a girl. Then he looks down as the expression on his face changes. It's strange, every time he thinks of Zoë, his thoughts wonder off to Jess again. As if some voice in the back of his mind is still telling him that he can't look at her, that it's not done when you're in a relationship. But he isn't. Jess and he aren't, she's gone forever. He swallows apprehensively and glances at his screen again. He sees images passing by of creatures and demons as they are being copied to his computer. He can't wait to get his hands on that thing that killed Jess and Mom. He never felt the urge to kill someone, he never felt this much anger and hatred for anything. Of course he slashed ghosts with iron, burned their bones and stopped all the other supernatural which terrorizes this land, but never out of pure hate. The frustrating part is, he has no idea where to start. Dad is nowhere to be found, probably after the damn thing by himself and he and Dean have no lead what so ever. They really need to find Dad and he'll make sure that he and Dean leave this town tomorrow morning, Denise or not. Sam has the feeling that when that time comes, when they finally find their Dad, they will also find the demon. That thought right there is what drives him, disturbing yet thrilling, but that's what everyone's after. The death of that demon, the final revenge.