Sam and Dean do not belong to me, not for monetary or any other type of. . .ahem. . .gain.
.~o()o~.
Sam and Dean sat in the parking lot behind A&W.
"So how do we wanna work this?" Sam asked.
"Oh you know, the usual, rush in, stop ghost, save girl, whisk girl away and make mad passionate love til sunrise."
"Right, I would prefer to be a little bit more prepared than that," Sam sighed. "We don't know for sure who this guy is. How often is information from the locals completely accurate? Details are exaggerated, names are changed. Can we at least go and find a wireless connection so I can see if Ephraim Bauer even existed? It will give you some time to figure out what we can safely take in with us. I have this feeling that even if we did manage to get out and to the car, we probably won't be able to get back in.
They went and parked by one of the motels in the area and Sam got to work. Dean soon finished his work in the trunk, pulling out two trusty shotguns, a number of rocksalt rounds, accelerant and another big bag of salt. After that, he wandered around, alternately chucking rocks in the parking lot and banging on the windows of the Impala to try to startle Sam.
Finally, at about ten o'clock, Dean slid back into the driver's seat. "Look Sam, if you haven't found anything by now, you're not going to. We should just stick to my plan."
"What plan, excuse me if I don't think running in for the sole purpose of making mad passionate love is going to work. And I really don't know what's going on here, but the history of this family is locked up tight. The only mention I could find of the opening was 'Mrs Rachel Bauer, husband and three children, proud owners of the new A&W.' It doesn't mention her husband's name. Then three years later, there is a marriage certificate, Mrs Rachel Bauer to Mr Henry Tull, so obviously something happened to her husband, but I can't find out what. I don't know, Dean, it could be a vengeful spirit, or it could be something else entirely, I just don't know."
"Well, regardless, people are dying and if we don't get it tonight, we have to wait ten years, so my plan is better than nothing," Dean said seriously.
"You're right," Sam sighed. "So how are we planning to be inside after they close?"
"Honestly, I think we should just go back at quarter to eleven, order something to stay and then just not leave. Hopefully something will happen before they kick us out. I mean, its not like there is anywhere to hide."
"Man, we really are leaving everything up to chance."
"We'll be fine, what could go wrong?" Dean grinned. Sam just sighed.
"Famous last words. . .One half hour?" he asked. Dean nodded.
Twenty-five minutes later, Sam sighed and said, "I give up. We will probably have better luck just asking the ghost. Let's go."
.~o()o~.
Leah was watching the clock. In five minutes, Dara would lock the doors and then she could finally get something done. It had been pretty much steady for the last hour or so. Pretty much all the orders had been to go, but it had taken up precious time she could have been using to get ahead on her closing jobs. The sweeping and mopping were finished but she had yet to start on tables.
She groaned inwardly when the door swung open again and the two young men from before walked in. Sure, they were gorgeous, but they distracted her terribly from her work and, by this time, she was so tired, all she wanted to do was get out of the restaurant and get back home.
This time, she was all smiles and professionalism as she took their order, finally able to speak to them without blushing after the third encounter. She packed their food to go, trying to send a subtle hint that they needed to leave, but instead, they sat in the same table as before, up top in the corner, but still with a decent view of the counter.
It wasn't two minutes after they walked in that Dara locked the door.
Sam and Dean showed every sign of settling in and enjoying a leisurely meal. Eleven o'clock came and Dara popped her head out front saying, "I am going to drive Melissa home."
It was only a few minutes after that, that everything started to go wrong. At first it was just little things. A customer had spilled their drink on the freshly mopped floor and hadn't told anyone. It wasn't liquid as much as it was now just sticky. The stacked lids above the pop machine fell and scattered all over. The first and second times, she just swept them up and refilled them. The third time, she just left them where they lay, intending to sweep them up when she swept behind the counter later.
It was when things started breaking that she got really frustrated. First a mug fell off a tray, then another one fell out of her hand as she was putting it away. The third one simply shattered in her hand, thankfully not cutting her.
Then, when she finally managed to get out the mop to clean up the spilled pop, she lifted the mop too high and shattered the light above her, sending pieces of glass and plastic everywhere. Her first impulse was to throw the mop and have a good old-fashioned temper tantrum when she heard one of the guys laughing. In their quiet conversation, she could discern one word. "Klutz."
Leah had had enough. She marched over there and, although she tried to be nice, she couldn't quite keep the irritation out of her voice. "I'm sorry, we are actually closed now, so perhaps you could hurry it up a little."
"Oh come on, Sweetheart," Dean winked and grinned up cockily at her. "We would really like to stick around and catch a glimpse of this ghost. We will just sit here and you can get back to breaking things."
"I am sorry, I have work to do and it is already nearly eleven thirty. You really need to move on. Tim Horton's is open all night."
"You're kicking us out?" Dean stood, "Look lady. . ."
"No, you look. I'm tired, its been a long day and I want to go home. I am not going to lie down and let you walk all over me just because you are fluent in asshole."
Dean's face turned red in anger and he opened his mouth to say something but Sam stopped him and looked up at Leah.
"It would really help us out," he turned on his pleading puppy dog eyes. "We have second hand stories but we could really use an eyewitness account. Just for a few minutes? We will leave as soon as you can no longer work around us."
Leah felt herself start to melt at the look in his eyes. "Alright," she said softly. "You can stay until I have finished the rest of the tables, but then, ghost or no ghost, you will have to go." Sam smiled a thank you and Leah felt her face begin to heat up again.
Leah was nearly finished and the boys were trying to think of another excuse to stay when the tub f of mugs that she was filling shifted slightly. A soft clinking sound began. Sam and Dean tensed a little as it began to move ever so slightly.
Leah turned to see what was going on and as she did so, one of the large mugs lifted itself out of the tub and flung itself straight at her face.
Sam was out of his chair in an instant and flinging himself down to the lower level, hurdling the wall between, grabbing her arm and pushing her behind him. The mug hit his chest with a loud thud, stealing his breath for an instant.
Leah's eyes were wide and suddenly Sam's hand on her arm was the only thing holding her upright. "Are you ok?" She asked quietly.
"Yeah, I'm fine, just bruised. Are you ok?" He brought his other hand and tenderly cupped her chin, looking into her eyes. Leah felt her breathing slowly return to normal, lost in the sensation of his large hands on her skin when suddenly they heard a scream from the kitchen.
.~o()o~.
Good place to end it? Ok! Reviews are welcomed!