Chapter 4:

Dean and Sam looked up at the blonde waitress addressing them. Obviously perfectly aware of how gorgeous she looked, she wore black three inch stilettos that probably should have managed to effectively cripple any normal person. Just thinking about it made Sam and Dean less nervous about the pain of getting their behinds kicked by demons on a daily basis. Those heels made it look like tee-ball. Yet she walked in the flawlessly, not even stumbling once. Her red miniskirt almost came up too high, and the house shirt was a black button up, but she'd only buttoned up three quarters of it. Her long blond hair was loosely hanging, and caught every bit of light in the place. Her purple amethyst eyes, however, were the most captivating part about her. Dean stared up into them, forgetting everything else in that moment.

"So what'll it be?" She asked. She was the kind of girl that every other girl hated. Despised, actually. Like the head cheerleader who caught every guy's eyes in high school. Just the way she moved looked like a dance in itself. She twisted a strand of her hair in her hand, waiting for either Winchester to answer. It was like she was practically waiting for the photographer to run in and snap her picture at any moment.

Sam spoke up first, regaining stamina before Dean. "More of this." He said, handing her the empty beer bottles. "Or, if you have something stronger?" She nodded. "And some of those wings you were talking about." She nodded, smiling. Her teeth were straight, but a natural straight. Not like she had braces and they were aligned to the books, but they were straight.

"Comin' right up, boys," she said, batting her eyelashes. Her voice was right in the middle pitch, but the way she spoke made the words seem almost suggestive. Dean was entranced. Perfectly entranced.

"Look's like that's Victoria... and she's got no secrets," Dean muttered, resulting in an elbow to the chest by Sam as he watched her as she walk away. Dean gave him a 'what gives?' look.

Sam rolled his eyes. Always get a girl to get Dean Winchester out of a lull. Well, at least his brother wasn't blaming himself. He hated seeing Dean so down like that. But having him snap out of it so fast kind of worried Sam too.

Come on, Sam thought either you want him one way or not.

Sam shot a look at Rose, the waitress. Well, he thought apprecatively, can you blame him? She turned around and brought them back to glasses full of something pink in color that neither Sam nor Dean recognized.

"House brew. Manager's special," she said when she returned. "I'd be careful, though, It's strong." Dean raised the glass to his lips unhesitatingly.

It was pretty strong, but not the strongest drink Dean had ever had before. It was warm sliding down his throat. Sam took a sip as well, and choked a bit, sputtering as the drink burned his throat. Rose laughed as Sam coughed. "That's okay. Not a lot of people can drink it." Still laughing, she turned to Dean. "I'm surprised you can. I certainly can't." Dean smiled and took another sip. Rose left to tend to another customer who had just come in.

"How about that." Dean said. Sam took another tentative sip. It got less strong the more you drank, he realized. Well, it was like that with most drinks. Dean was practically chugging his.

"Slow down, Dean," Sam said, watching as the pink liquid slowly disappeared from Dean's glass. Rose was watching Dean with a half-shocked, half-impressed smile on her face. Obviously, the house special was not often drank in this manner. Dean could always stomach the strongest of drinks.

Rose came back like a good waitress when Dean's glass was empty. However, she asked him if he wanted water instead. Dean gave her a look that plainly said 'Bring on the booze, I'm in a bar, I don't want water.'

She took the hint, and looked at Sam before pouring more. "Just making sure he's not the designated driver," she said and Sam smiled.

"So, where you guys from?" She asked, making normal 'friendly waitress' conversation.

"Los Angeles." Dean said from nowhere. Which would have been fine, but he said it at the same time Sam said, "Maine." They weren't anywhere remotely close. They looked at each other, both giving the other a 'I told you I had this one' look.

Rose gave a bemused smirk at their wordless interaction. "He's from L.A., I live in Maine," Dean said offered quickly, the words coming out of his mouth before he could think.

"You said you were from Maine," she said, pointing in Sam's direction.

"Never mind him," Sam said. "He get's that way when he's drunk."

"I'm not drunk," Dean said, his voice gaining a cocky edge. Sam kicked him under the table. "Oh, yeah," Dean said, slurring his speech a little bit. "Brothers, taking some time off for a road trip. You?" Still looking a little suspicious, Rose took the bait.

"I've lived here, in the middle of nowhere since I was 10. I remember living in New York, though." She smiled in remembrance, but her gaze drifted from Dean to a spot behind him, through the glass window. There was a man out there, pacing and obviously waiting for someone.

"You know him?" Dean asked, his words starting to slur together.
"Yeha, he's a family friend." Rose said, her voice giving the impression that her thoughts had left the two occupants of the table altogether. "I'll be right back. And no more refills." She waltzed her way outside, and approached the guy.

"Now?" She asked him, her eyes flickering to the Winchester's table. She was 100 percent sure that if she spoke too loud, they would be able to hear her. The glass was thin, newly replaced from a bar fight a week before. She could see Sam eyeing her in suspicion.

"Rose." The man said, "You beg me for months, and now your suddenly not ready?" He was tall, blond, and extremely muscular. He was the kind you'd be afraid to sit next to on the subway, or not want to be alone in a room with.

"Jasper. I have customers. It's barely dark out." Her mascara laced eyes, looked up into his gold colored eyes and he sighed. He'd given in.

"Later. Meet me there." He said, and she nodded, understanding the place he was referring to. He nodded. "Don't be late." She nodded. "I'm serious. Last chance." Once more, she nodded. "Rose. Are you sure about this?"

"As sure as I am that that guy," she pointed at Dean, "is going to be puking his guts out in twenty minutes." She smiled. She walked back into the restaurant and Jasper started down the street.

Sam had decided Dean had had enough of the house brew. He put one of Deans arms over his shoulder and tipped Rose. "See you tomorrow morning maybe?" Sam shrugged as he tried to support Dean's weight. They hobbled across the street, glad that there weren't any cars.

Dean crashed on the bed first thing when he got inside. Sam shook his head. Maybe one glass less wouldn't have killed him, Sam thought. Too late now. Sam showered and got into his own bed.

He was almost worried for Dean. He had cried, blamed himself and then gotten over it. He'd past through the stages of acceptance faster than anyone else would have. Certainly after having a parent die... And who had Rose been talking to. Family friend, she had said. But why had she looked so anxious talking to him?

Events from his past up to his dad's death flashed in front of his eyes. He was trying hard to fall asleep, but his efforts were useless. Once he actually thought he was going to fall asleep, he saw a huge flash of white light in front of his eyes. At first he thought it was lightning, but when the headache started to come he knew what it really was. A Premonition. He sat up straight and immediatly the white light overtook his vision.

Not too far away from Sam and Dean's room, Rose walked down the tight alleyway. "Ready?" Jasper was already there. He had been leaning against the brick of an old building. Rose nodded, a fierce look in her eyes as he stared straight at Jasper.

"Lets get this done." Jasper said. His eyes narrowed in on hers, and then to her neck. Right where the jaw ended and her neck started. He moved closer and then, went for his prey. Venom dripping from his teeth as they connected with Rose's flesh.