Snow and Sentiments
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Chapter Three
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She flicked through the morning newspaper, her eyes drawn to the article on the front page
That made three in all, the most recent two nights ago; all men, strangled to death in their respective homes during the last two weeks. No sign of a break-in or a fight or of any attempted resistance. Neither was there any motive for the deaths.
The police were stumped but she wasn't. When there was no rational explanation, the only alternative was a supernatural one.
She knew who to get in touch with for help, assuming they were still alive, but she was torn between wanting to contact them and knowing that it was a dangerous thing to do; not dangerous in a physical 'get shot in the head' way but in an emotional one, for she had others to consider now not just herself but the next day when another man was found dead in similar circumstances, her conscience warned her that she could put it off no longer.
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She browsed through her older phone numbers, found what she was looking for and pressed call
She felt the breath she was holding exhale in relief when it went to voice-mail; she left her name and number and waited to be called back.
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"That one of your old phones ringing there, Sammy?" Dean said elbowing his sleeping brother. Even now at thirty-eight years of age, Sam still slept better in the Impala with Dean's music bellowing out of the loud-speakers, than in any motel room.
Through the years they had slapped every kind of protection-spell and ward onto the car. She even had a tattoo like the one they sported on their chests for she had been possessed a couple of times herself.
Outside of what had been Bobby's panic room she was the safest place on Earth.
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"Sammy!" Dean raised his voice. "Phone!"
Sam blinked his way out of the coma-like sleep he had fallen into, eyes owlishly staring at Dean as if expecting to see someone else at the wheel instead of him.
Dean couldn't hold back a grin. Sam would never change. At least some things were constant in the Winchesters' world.
"Phone, dude!" he repeated for the third time.
"Yeah, okay, I heard you the first time" Sam answered grumpily as he rummaged in the glove compartment for the right one. They had quite a collection now, from John's old phone forward.
He flipped open the lid and his heart did a somersault at the caller id; it was a name he had thought never to see again.
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"Who is it?" Dean asked as Sam stared silently at the phone.
"Sarah."
"As in Sarah Blake, the auction house chick?"
"Yeah," Sam confirmed quietly, his mind going back to the last time he had seen her, when they had passed a single night of passion together in the shabby motel room he and Dean had been living in at the time.
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"Well, aren't you gonna see what she wants?" Dean prodded.
"Right," Sam replied not too eagerly, as he pressed the recall button.
"Sam, is that you?" a familiar voice answered
"Sarah, how have you been?" he asked, surprised by the pleasure hearing her voice gave him. "Is something wrong? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, " she said. "But there's something going on here that seems right up your street; that is if you're still chasing ghosts and whatnot?"
"Yeah. We're stupid enough to be still doing that," he answered neutrally, as if wondering himself why they were!
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He saw Dean looking over at him an undecipherable expression on his face, as he continued.
"You still in uptown New York?"
"Yes, same town, same auction house, no creepy paintings though, I'm thankful to say," she laughed.
"Right, Um. Thanks for the info. We'll check it out. We're pretty far out from you, so there might be other hunters in the vicinity who can come over and take a look. We'll get back to you, Sarah," Sam said closing the communication.
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"What's with "there are other hunters in the area", Sammy? We're in the area. It's only a couple of hours away," Dean stated. "You don't want to take the job?"
Sam just shrugged.
"Oh, come on Sammy. You and that chick had a great thing going. Can't see what she saw in a Sasquatch like you, but what's wrong with looking in on her while checking out the case. You can take her out to some classy joint, like the last time. There's a town up ahead. We can stop for food and you can research what's goin' on. If it's our sort of thing, we go. Okay?"
"Okay," Sam answered albeit unwillingly.
Dean was right. There was no reason not to take the case but a little voice whispered in his ear that things were gonna get complicated.
He sighed, when were their lives ever smooth and easy.
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"Four guys strangled. No breaking and entry, no motives, no clues, all the same age. Yup sound like it could be our thing," Sam confirmed, as he watched Dean delve into his burger and fries.
All his bitching through the years about healthy food just hadn't changed his big brother's eating habits in the least, although he had to admit that at forty-two Dean still appeared to be in great form.
Maybe all the times they had died and come back to life had strengthened their bodies in some way, for by this time they should really have been feeling their ages, after all the punishment they had taken.
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Two hours later they entered the town, made their way to the auction house and parked the elderly Impala among the luxurious cars sitting there.
"Huh, there must be an auction going on. Just like last time, eh Sammy!" Dean grinned as he took in the flashy automobiles. "Come on, maybe we'll get a better welcome this time than we got from her old man before."
They crossed the threshold and mingled with the money-laden buyers who were inspecting the exhibits on sale.
Sam felt the urge to run; he didn't know why but as the seconds passed it was becoming more and more overwhelming.
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"Hi, Sam, Dean. It's been quite a while," a musical voice at their shoulder greeted them.
Sam turned towards her, feeling like an awkward teenager.
"Sarah," he smiled self-consciously as he studied her.
She was as beautiful as he remembered and he felt the blood pump through his veins at the memory of their night together, not long after he had gotten his soul back from the Cage. That was at least ten years ago now, he mused.
"Sam," she smiled back as she studied him in turn, her eyes appreciatively raking his tall figure.
"You haven't changed a bit, neither have you Dean," she added as she tore her eyes away to meet Dean's amused ones.
"Nice to see you too, Sarah," he grinned. "Sammy here didn't want to look you up but I knew you would have been disappointed if he didn't drop by."
"Dean! " Sam squawked embarrassed.
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Just then there was an excited chattering as two children burst noisily through the side-door.
"Mom, mom, there's been a fire scare at school and we were all sent home early," one of them said happily as they both zigzagged their way around the buyers towards Sarah.
The Winchesters watched as her face paled at the unexpected arrival of the youngsters but her paleness was soon mirrored on the faces of the Winchesters, especially Sam's.
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"Sammy, " Dean whispered to his brother. "You sure do good work little brother but man, protection!"
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Standing at Sarah's side, looking up at them curiously, were two kids around nine or ten years old, one with floppy chestnut hair the other with freckles and a darker mop of hair to his brother's; both living breathing replicas of Sam and Dean Winchester except for the identical sets of deep blue eyes that mirrored those of their mother.
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