Most people had departed for the evening, but Sam Winchester had been cornered by the same older women from the veranda. Christa did another perimeter sweep, which was easier without almost a hundred pair of eyes to see her. Empty-handed, she returned to the ballroom and sat down, stifling a yawn. For someone who reprimanded her earlier, he sure was taking his time with the ladies. She pulled out her phone and sent a check-in text to Dean, as well as a selfie in her glittering mask.
The next thing she knew, she could feel eyes on her and she slowly turned in her seat to see Sam staring her down. When they locked eyes, he barely twitched an eyebrow to beckon her over. Kind of wanting to mess with him, she stood up and started walking out of the ballroom, then doubled back. Relief flooded his face as she approached. She waited politely for him to acknowledge her.
Feigning shock at his forgetfulness, Sam excused himself for one last dance after introducing Diana to Abigail. Christa couldn't help but notice Abigail's frown as she turned away, her hand hooked in Sam's elbow. "Took you long enough," he muttered through a clenched jaw.
Biting back a smirk, Christa nodded and squeezed his elbow lightly before letting go to give him her hand. Sam cleared his throat and pulled her close to him, deliberately dancing with her on the far side of the floor. He looked down at her, meeting her bright blue eyes and taking in her deep red lips. He found himself unable to fault the others in attendance for wanting to be close to her. After a few moments, he scanned the room again and noticed the crowd was thinning by the minute. "Meet me on the second floor stairwell, north side, in five minutes," he said and nudged her away as the song ended.
Christa turned and made her exit without drawing attention.
Seven minutes elapsed and Christa grew fidgety; it wasn't like Sam Winchester to be late. She peeked out the door, wondering if she should go to her room for heavier weapons. Just as she was about to leave, she heard a door above her slam shut and feet hastily beating down the stairs. She pretended to be ascending the stairs, just in case it wasn't her partner.
They almost ran into each other as she stepped off the second floor landing and onto the stairs to the third. Christa gasped before she realized it was Sam. He looked out of breath and she noticed some light pink lipstick on his shirt collar. "Sorry I'm late, I got tied up." Christa quirked an eyebrow and smirked, choosing not to comment. At her silence, Sam's face grew flushed and he stuttered. "So, uh, let's get somewhere more private so we can talk?"
"I'm on the third floor. Where's your room?"
"Second," he replied as he swung the door open, letting her step into the hallway. He placed his hand on her back as he led her to his suite.
They had both removed their masks when they were safely inside the suite and Christa poured them both a couple fingers of Johnny Walker Black and leaned against his desk. Their suites were almost identical, aside from the furniture being slightly different. Sam had taken off his tuxedo jacket and tossed the cummerbund onto the back of a chair along with the jacket. He untucked his shirt and pulled off the bowtie as he paced, deep in thought. She watched him, enjoying how his fitted pants looked and how he ran his hands through his hair every few moments.
She let him think and when he finally slowed and stopped, he spoke up. "I'm stumped. We doused nearly every drink with holy water, nobody reacted to silver, and nothing came up on EMF." He sighed and dragged a hand down his face, much like his older brother did.
Stifling another yawn and distracted by the heat in her abdomen, Christa put down her scotch; the clock read quarter to one. "So let's reconvene tomorrow morning and buckle down with research. Maybe we can ask some of the staff if they know anything, or can point out who's been coming to this event frequently for several years. If we can find out who's been here every weekend someone's gone missing, we can narrow down our suspects and work from there."
Sam nodded and ran a hand through his hair again. "This event is so secretive that not even the local police were called to investigate. As far as the management is concerned, the missing people never even came here. So that puts them at the top of my suspects list – let's try not to raise any eyebrows. Meet me here around 9? I'll order room service."
Christa grabbed her high heels and plucked them off her feet one by one. She noticed Sam's eyes raking down her body yet again. She smirked at him, "Something you want to say?"
"I wasn't kidding when I said you looked ravishing, Chris. This is a very good look on you," he grinned back at her. He stepped forward and tilted her chin up, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. "Most of the guests seemed to agree with me," he continued, sliding a hand around her shoulder to the back of her neck, "but truth be told," he paused, dragging a finger down her spine ever so lightly before bringing it back up, "I'd much rather see it on the floor." His fingers popped the button at the nape of her neck and Christa shivered.
"Samuel Winchester, we are on a job," she whispered, using his own words against him.
"And it happens to be one of the most exclusive hook-up events in the country. So, when in Rome…" he trailed off, his fingers waiting for permission to peel the dress off her shoulders. He heard Christa exhale slowly. His eyes never left hers as she pulled down the hidden zipper on her side. Her shoulders shrugged as she pulled her arms out of the sleeves. Sam pressed against her, placing a rough kiss on her mouth as if claiming her. She was moving too slowly for him, so he gripped the dress and forcefully yanked it down, immensely enjoying the sound of seams ripping and crystals falling to the floor.
Christa moaned into his mouth, half out of surprise and half out of desire. The dress fell away from her and pooled at her feet. She dropped her high heels and buried a hand in his hair as their tongues shoved against each other. Sam's hands found her hips and he groaned when he discovered she wasn't wearing underwear. Her hands went to work undressing him as quickly as she could. He grabbed her ass and lifted her onto the desk, kissing her as if he wanted to devour her, and wedged himself between her legs. His hands slid down her legs and he felt the lacy tops of her thigh highs and almost lost it.
He pulled away from her mouth, panting, "Fuck, Chris. Bed. Now." The slow smile that spread across her face as she looked up at him through her eyelashes made him crazy. She used to look at him like that when they would wrestle as teens and it became part of his fantasies about her. Her legs wrapped around his hips and he picked her up, kicking his shoes and pants off, and then carried her into the bedroom. Christa got a moment of déjà vu when Sam dropped her onto the bed; in her mind, she saw Dean leaning over her, green eyes dark and intense. She cleared that memory and watched Sam peel his undershirt off, then watched his boxers drop, and sucked in a breath as she took in his perfectly chiseled body yet again. Scars dotted his otherwise smooth skin and his anti-possession tattoo stood out even in the dark. Absently, she went to roll down her stockings and Sam leaned forward, stopping her. "No, leave them," he demanded, voice husky with lust.
She leaned up and kissed him, pulling him down on top of her, wanting to feel all of him. Sam positioned himself above her and slid a hand between her legs, his middle finger running the length of her slit. He growled deep in his chest and pulled away from her kiss, smirking down at her. "God, Chris. Have you been wet since you and Emily…?"
Christa nodded, vocalizing her desire in the form of small needy moans as his finger teased her. Sam inhaled deeply and slid a finger into her warmth, eliciting a soft sound from the woman under him. He bent down and licked her neck as her head tilted, back arching toward the ceiling. "Ohhhh my god, Sam," she breathed, "please don't make me beg."
With his free hand, he tilted her head to the side and then kissed from her collarbone up to her ear. His tongue flicked into her ear and he began pumping his fingers in and out of her. When his mouth was next to her ear, he groaned softly and responded, "But it's so hot."
Hips rolling, desperate for more of him, Christa swallowed a whimper. "Please, Sam, I need it."
"Need what?" He nipped along her jaw, now, utterly teasing her.
"You. I need you," she breathed.
"You need me to do what?" He slowly withdrew his fingers and grinned devilishly when she finally whimpered and tried to move his hand back. He instead grabbed both of her wrists and pinned them over her head to the mattress, repositioning himself over her.
Christa was panting, again, her eyes staring up at him with all of her desperation and need. "I need you to fuck me," she finally said, almost angrily.
Sam shuddered and closed his eyes; an image of her in ecstasy on the motel bed with his brother's face between her legs flooded his mind. He felt envy flare up in him, again, because Dean had her first; despite knowing he had feelings for her – at least back then. A disquieting sense of déjà vu overcame him and he calmly asked, "Who do you belong to?"
Christa's eyes went wide at the question and she stopped moving underneath him. His question sent a wave of heat all through her body and she felt the knot of heat at her core tighten further. Never in her life had someone asked her that and it caught her so completely off-guard that she just laid under him, unsure of how to respond. He waited patiently for her to answer, his hazel eyes dark with lust, gazing into hers. "You," she finally whispered.
"I didn't hear you, Chris," he teased. He was still pinning her wrists down and he lowered his hips so his hardness brushed against her. He watched her swallow and bite her lip; her submissiveness intoxicating.
"You," she said again, just barely louder. His hips moved again and he thrust into her. A loud moan escaped her lips just before he captured her mouth with his yet again. He released her wrists and sank down onto his elbows, pounding into her. She kissed him harder, moaning into his mouth, and buried a hand in his hair while her other hand dragged her nails down his back.
Sam pulled away from the kiss and groaned, loving how her nails felt on his back. He shifted and forced her legs closed, his knees on either side of her thighs. It was a tighter fit but it didn't slow him down at all.
Moments later, Christa was begging him to make her come. He shoved a hand under her hips and tilted them up slightly. He knew he was hitting her g-spot when her begging turned into moans and pleas for him to not stop. When she came, it was hard and intense; he held his free hand over her mouth as she screamed his name, shuddering and convulsing under him. It sent him over the edge and he pulled out just before he came all over her stomach.
Out of breath, he kissed her and then rolled onto his back, coming down from his high. "Jesus Christ, Chris."
The smell of breakfast and strong coffee pulled her out of a nightmare where she wasn't able to save Dean Winchester from the Ashley River. He was lost to both her and Sam and she was sobbing in Sam's arms until he suddenly started blaming her for being unable to save Dean. Christa shot up and took in her surroundings. A dull ache between her legs reminded her of the previous night and she shook off the remnants of the nightmare just as Sam walked into the bedroom holding a mug out for her.
"Breakfast is here, thought you might want some coffee," he said thoughtfully. He smiled at her and those god damn dimples made Christa's heart flutter.
"Thank you, Sammy," she said quietly, taking the coffee from him.
"You can wear my jacket over your dress when you need to leave, but let's eat first?"
"Sounds good," she smiled back. He handed her a bathrobe and she wrapped herself up in it and joined him for breakfast.
"So get this," Sam started a few minutes after he pulled information about their missing people. "We're looking for someone who's attended this event in March of this year; November and May of the year prior; December and July of the year before that," he paused, looking over to see Christa jotting notes down as fast as he was speaking. "Then we're looking for someone who was here in August of the year before that, and finally: January and September the year before that."
"So, if we're thinking management, that rules them out. This resort changed hands about two years ago. So that leaves us guests or staff. Can we get into the resort's reservation system? See if we can pull up the previous bookings of the guests?" Christa asked, sure Sam had already thought of it.
"Actually, I did," he grinned a bit self-satisfactorily. "The only prior bookings I can look into at the moment are those of people with memberships to this particular hotel group. But," he paused again, turning his laptop so Christa could see it, "there are a handful of guests who come to this event who are also rewards members."
Christa hurriedly scribbled down the names of the guests Sam had pulled up. "What else do we have?"
"Well, since everyone here uses a fake name for their reservations, we need to double-check the rewards numbers against the fake names, then find their real names, and go from there." He handed her a USB. "This contains the key logger software that I had plugged into one of the front desk computers. I'll talk to some of the employees and see if anyone is willing to dish about their exclusive guests."
"Great. I'll see if I can get any further into the computer systems. I'm sure their network probably isn't encrypted, so it shouldn't take long." At this point, Christa was pulling the now-ruined dress back on. Thankfully it wasn't in shreds – the zipper had broken and another seam in front had popped when he ripped it off of her. She shot Sam a mildly disapproving look and said dryly, "Maybe don't make a habit of ripping gowns worth a few thousand dollars?"
Sam smiled deviously and watched her struggle to keep the gown on. "Nothing a professional seamstress can't fix," he replied. He grabbed his tuxedo jacket and draped it over her shoulders before she went back to her suite.
Christa showered and changed into a simple sun dress that was still worth several hundred dollars. The day's activities on the schedule were mostly outdoors – outdoor pool and sand volleyball, tennis, paddle boarding, golf, indoor yoga, massage lessons, blahblahblah. She wasn't really interested in any of it, but she had to make an appearance at some point.
She sat down at her laptop and plugged a cord into the phone line at her desk. It took a few minutes of watching the key logger do its thing, but she was able to sneak into the resort's back office network and start pulling reservations. Despite the fact it would take a few hours to pull all the reservation dates and check all names against those Sam gave her, as well as names of those in attendance this weekend, she figured she'd go ahead and get started.
Christa lost track of time diving deeper into the research. She was honestly in her element when she was digging for information and taking notes. Many names repeated but only a few were members. When she had gotten a two-year streak of attendees appearing in the reservations, she'd hit a missing month. Over 100 people at the same resort, one weekend a month, twelve months a year, and no single attendee was there every month someone went missing. Frustrated, Christa decided to work out her body to give her brain a rest. A slight urge to text Sam had her fingertips tingling, but she decided against it. She didn't want to distract him, whatever he may be doing.
Sam left his room shortly after Christa departed and headed to the gym for a yoga lesson. If Dean ever knew he enjoyed yoga and did it whenever he could, he'd never hear the end of it. Speaking of, Sam thought as he texted a quick check-in message to Dean. He was a little surprised upon arriving to the gym that he wasn't handed something to conceal his identity before he remembered only the initial evening was a masquerade.
He was shown to the mats and took a place near the exit right as the instructor walked in.
Christa decided to explore the resort after changing into a bikini and workout clothes; maybe Sam missed something. Maybe there was some weird witch shit going down that they didn't catch. Hell, maybe there was even some nonsense like a portal opening that some people just kind of fell through on accident. The main areas all checked out. She was incredibly frustrated at this point, meeting dead-end after dead-end. A yoga session and then some time in the pool would get her back on balance.
The younger Winchester thoroughly enjoyed his yoga session. It seemed the ladies who were in attendance also thoroughly enjoyed the class, or at least they enjoyed watching him. After, he approached the teacher who was a hotel employee and personal trainer on the side. He turned on the charm and she eventually gave him some hints as to repeat guests for this specific event. He mentally made a note of the descriptions and flirted with her some more before he excused himself to go shower.
Once he had showered, Sam changed into a pair of swim trunks in his luggage and a bright polo-style shirt and headed down to the pool. He was sure he would see at least one person that met the descriptions given.
Christa slipped into the yoga room and looked over the other attendees who were already present. She did some light stretching and then settled onto the mat. To quiet her mind, she closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. A few moments later, she heard someone settle on to a mat next to hers. One blue eye opened to see if she recognized the person and then her other eye opened as a small smile crept across her face.
Long, sandy hair pulled back into a knot and bright green eyes with striking cheekbones and a strong jawline. It was The Other Sam. She adjusted her posture and decided to go ahead and greet him with a quiet, "Hello, Sam."
He turned his head a bit towards her, a half-smile tugging at his lips. Christa could tell he was trying to see if he recognized her and didn't say anything while he gazed at her. After a long moment, she felt her eyebrow lift in that sarcastic way she had of non-verbally expressing herself. His smile got wider, "I'd know that eyebrow anywhere. Good afternoon, Diana." She smiled widely back at him, tickled that he remembered her. "You never stopped by last night for that night cap," he mentioned, his voice low.
Diana bit her lip and shyly glanced away. "I'm sorry. It got late and I had to get my beauty sleep."
His eyes swept down her again. "I highly doubt you needed it, but you do look amazingly beautiful today. And there's always tonight." He finished right as the instructor called out the first pose. Christa felt her cheeks turn red at his insinuation and wondered, briefly, if Sam Winchester would be jealous. During the class, they exchanged glances and flirtatious smiles every so often. Being next to such a gorgeous creature certainly did not allow her to clear her head fully, but it helped her remember to control her breathing.
After the class, The Other Sam asked if he could escort her to her next destination. Diana nodded and slipped her hand into his elbow as they headed for the outdoor pool.
She noticed he kept glancing at her face as they walked and it started making her nervous. "Sam, do I have something on my face?" She finally asked.
He laughed quietly and shook his head, "No, I'm sorry. You're just so captivating. Without a mask hiding your beautiful visage, I'm just pleasantly surprised. Uh, it's my first time here and I wasn't sure what to expect, you know?"
Diana laughed and nodded, "Yeah, I thought for sure something like this would be full of older couples trying to spice up their lives with some swinging action. There are actually quite a few good looking people, thankfully. You included."
The Other Sam raised her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles, "You are far too kind, Diana." He then held the door open for her as they walked towards the outdoor pool. The volleyball net at the pool had been taken down to make room for mingling. There was even a chicken-fight going on that didn't last more than a few seconds. Diana noticed Ted was on the team left standing and she took a moment to admire his muscles in the sunlight. He had certainly grown up from the awkward teenage boy she once knew. Her mind briefly flashed to the previous night where his hard body was covering hers, claiming her completely. She cleared her head before she got lost. The Other Sam was setting his things down on a lounge chair and waved her over. Just her luck – the one next to his was wide open.
"I'm gonna go rinse off and hop in the pool," he said, gesturing to a shower-head attached to a small facility building. "Care to shower with me?" He pulled his tee shirt off and Diana bit her lip. He was even more chiseled than Sam Winchester. He let her look him over, seeming to enjoy her gaze on him. As if on cue, Diana pulled off her workout clothes. She took good care of herself, despite living on the road most of the time, but being in close proximity of a body surely carved by God Himself made her self-conscious. Not-Winchester's green eyes glittered and he let out a low, playful whistle when she turned around to drop her clothes onto the chair.
"Hey, how's it going?" asked a familiar voice from behind her. Without turning, she knew it was Sam Winchester, but nobody here could know that she knew him. So, she turned around and flashed him a bit of a confused smile.
"I'm sorry, what was your name, again?" She calmly asked. Christa bit back a shit-eating grin when she saw "Ted" size up Sam; his jaw even clenched for a moment before he held his hand out to her.
"Ted. I think we met last night at the masquerade? You were in a blue dress with the back cut out."
Christa eyed him for a moment, really making a show of pretending to rack her brain. "So much for anonymity! Oh, right! Ted." She moved towards him and they shook hands. "Where are your lady friends?"
Ted's hazel eyes sent her a very quick flash of annoyance and then he smiled again, showing off those dimples. "Oh, you mean Abigail? I'm not sure. She said something about the golf course," he shrugged and folded his arms over his chest, flexing his arms. Christa wanted to giggle at his sudden alpha male bullshit, but she held it together. "Anyway, I was curious if you'd like to take a walk?" He asked her almost innocently.
Diana's eyes went from Sam to Not-Winchester and she bit her bottom lip as her sense of duty overpowered the urge to spend time with a hot guy she didn't know. Not-Winchester also folded his arms across his chest and Christa flashed him a very apologetic smile.
"Rain check on the swim date?" She asked sweetly, sliding her feet back into her sandals. "That is if Ted isn't secretly planning to murder me, first." The men briefly looked confused until Diana started laughing and pulled on her workout leggings again. It was hot as hell, but the last thing she wanted was chub-rub.