Morning broke earlier than expected for the two brothers. Even Sam wasn't ready to wake when the alarm clock blared loudly at 7 A.M.
"Just five more minutes Jess, please." Sam mumbled, shielding his face from the sun. Turning over he came too enough to realize what he had just said, and sighed deeply at the thought. She still plagued his dreams more then he cared to admit.
Sitting up in the bed slowly, Sam dropped his legs off over the side and contemplated about going back to sleep. The only thing that kept him from doing so was the image of Dean's dead body at his feet.
Like a firecracker had gone off inside his body, he was now fully awake.
"Dean, it's time to get up." Sam told him through a yawn. Glancing over at the other bed, he saw that his words had no effect. "Dean, it's time to get up." He stated again, this time throwing a pillow at his brother's head. It worked.
"Hey, what the hell?" Dean whined, picking his face up off the mattress to squint over at Sam.
"We have a lot of leg work to do today." Sam told the sleepy heap in the bed before him, as he walked his way to the bathroom. "And because you didn't get out of bed first, you get the cold shower."
"I always get the cold shower." Dean told Sam, speaking into the sheet and muffling his words.
"And for good reason." He retorted, shutting the door to end their conversation. After what had happened to Dean the night before, that line was even funnier to Sam.
Stepping away from the door, Sam bent into the large walk-in shower and adjusted the knobs until he thought the water was a hot, but comfortable temperature.
Stripping off his boxers, he stood there naked before the bathroom sink and stared into the mirror. Now that the day had started and they were here, there was no going back. And even though Sam hadn't told Dean outright, he was scared they wouldn't make it out alive, let alone actually find the person they were meant to save.
Moving in behind the glass doors of the steaming, hot shower, Sam tried to relax underneath the water. Sighing, he let the clear liquid spray out over his now, taut skin. His nipples had peaked as the cool air of the room mixed with the raising heat from the hot box he was creating.
Grabbing the tiny motel soap, Sam lathered it up in his hands, rubbing his palms quickly over his body. The friction against his self, brought blood to the surface in more places than one. Intent on gripping his newly produced formation, he was half way to doing so when Dean burst into the bathroom loudly.
"Dude, are you done yet?" He asked as he lifted up the toilet seat and withdrew his own half-massed hardness.
"Dean, I'm in the shower." Sam complained, annoyed that he had been interrupted.
"Yeah, and I had to pee. What's your point?" He replied as he relieved his bladder into the bowl.
"I don't walk in on you when you're in the bathroom."
"Well maybe you should." Dean teased as he dropped himself back onto the fabric of his boxer briefs and reached forward, pulling the handle down on the back of the toilet.
"DEAN!" Sam yelled as his brother left the room laughing and a rush of hot water hit the taller boys back. "I'll get you for that later, I swear." He called out after the door was closed again.
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"So," Dean said, stuffing another mini doughnut into his mouth as he steered them down the main road of town. "When we find this person, how are we going to rope them in this time?" Taking a sip of his coffee, he glanced over at Sam. " I have to say; my favorite so far has to be when we faked preachers to that telekinetic Miller, kid." He chuckled and trailed off, shaking his head. "Gene and Ace …"
"You do remember he died right?" Sam questioned, wondering how Dean found that case funny.
"Yeah, I also remember that he almost shot me in the head. So it's kinds hard for me to feel sorry for him." The man did seem to have a valid point.
Sam had already contacted half of the call list he had gathered from the night before, and each had ended without a lead or further result.
"Are you sure this person is around our age?" Dean inquired. "I mean, it could mean anything." He told Sam, in reference to the images his brother had explained to Dean about college materials. "Maybe a professor or something."
"Well, so far we've had a firefighter, deceased seventy year-old man, a hospital technician and a preschool teacher. None of that screams college textbooks and essays to me." He said, looking down his list again. "Besides, if they held those positions they would have already graduated."
Dean had to admit, Sam was right. For once.
"Well did you happen to see what the books were for? I mean they had to have names right?"
"You mean titles? Yeah, I'm sure they did, but they were open before a typed paper and some notes, so I couldn't see anything helpful." He sighed.
"Well, did you see anything else?" Dean asked, curious. "Like anything else that might have been on the table?"
"Um, not really. There was a video iPod, a can of Coca Cola and a binder with a logo I couldn't quite make out."
"Yeah, that's helpful." Dean said sarcastically, rolling his eyes at the situation. "Really, this should be getting easier every time we do this. Not harder."
"Yeah for once I have to agree with you." Sam concurred.
It brought an amused smile to Dean's face to hear those words spill from his brother's lips.
"What?" Sam asked, giving his brother a curious look.
"I knew you'd have to give in to the dark side sooner or later." Dean teased.
It seemed like the boys might actually be breaking the ice with one another. Not to mention that Bobby was starting to wonder if they wouldn't just kill each other on a hunt and make it look like an accident.
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Pulling up in front of an old Victorian house, Dean shut the engine off and looked over at Sam.
"OK, so there's only one more after this, right?" He asked as they both glanced out the passenger side, up into the massive bay window before them and the car.
"Yeah." Sam responded, sticking his head out.
It had taken them over and hour to get here after sitting with two prior candidates. One, an elderly grandmother that talked far too long, and the other, a taxi cab driver that didn't seem to know which way was up. Neither fitting the description for the person they were looking for. So now they were down to the last two options and running out of time. Fast.
"So how are we going to handle this one?" He questioned Dean. They had never fully decided on a course of action or a good reason on how they were going to get into this house. Not to mention that they had no uniforms handy or had they seen any rental places so far along the way.
"We improvise." Dean stated, opening the driver's door and stepping out.
"And how do you presume we do that?" Sam just had to ask.
"The old standard." Dean said, opening the Impala's hood and stripping off his button down shirt to reveal a tight, white tank top and muscular arms.
Sam couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"And you really think that's going to work?" He let slip in a sarcastic manner, as he stepped up besides his brother.
"Are you having car trouble?" A short brunette asked just at that moment, as she headed for the door to the old Victorian before them.
"Works every time." Dean whispered to Sam, an impish grin spreading across his face. Closing the heavy, metal cover over the engine, he peaked up to get a look at the slender and petite woman that stood on the steps of the house. "Yeah, it just keeps dying." He told her, lying and pretending to wipe his hands off on the shirt he still held.
"Well, your welcome to use my house phone to call a tow truck if you need." She told them, pulling a corded earplug from her ear.
Sam looked her up and down, only then realizing that she held a can of Coke in one hand and a video MP3 player was tucked into the hip of her small, tight cotton athletic shorts. He nudged Dean, eyeing the logo and was embossed over one thigh of her curve hugging attire. Only Dean wasn't paying attention to the graphics on her clothing. More so the large breasts she held up across her top half.
"Dean." Sam whispered loudly as their next seeming hunt walked up the rest of the stairs to unlock the door. "Dean!" He said more forcefully.
"Huh?" The shorter brunette asked, breaking his concentration, a small smile still playing out over his lips. "Did you see her breas–" He started to ask, but was cutoff by the other boy.
"Hey, must I remind you we're not here to pick up girls?" Sam asked, his annoyance rising.
"Well maybe not you, but if I'm going to die tonight I might as well get me some." Dean laughed, patting Sam on the shoulder twice as he moved up the wooden steps of the waiting house.
"Sometimes I hate you." Sam told Dean as they made their way through the entrance of the 1888 structure.
"But I'm so lovable." Dean teased in a child-like voice, as he rounded the short hallway and stepped into the main of the living room.
Next to them stood a small desk against the stairwell that led to the upper level. On it's surface were the woman's iPod, a half a can of Coca Cola and a small army of textbooks that sat before I hand written set of notes.
"It's her." Sam said quietly as they stood there staring down at the objects.
"How do we know someone else doesn't live here?" Dean asked. "I mean it could be a house full of sorority girls." He paused at his own statement. "Dude, that would so rock." He chuckled, smiling widely. "And then maybe we could get you laid so you wouldn't be so up tight anymore." He trailed off, amused.
"Very funny." Sam interjected.
"I thought so." Dean shrugged, moving further into the living room and taking a seat.
"So, here's the phone." The mysterious woman broke in as she walked into the main room herself from the kitchen, setting a plate of cookies down onto the coffee table before Dean.
Handing the phone over to the eldest Winchester, she sat on the couch opposite Dean and kept an eye on Sam as he looked over her class notes.
"Do you mind if I take this outside?" Dean asked, standing up with the phone in hand. He was obviously going elsewhere to fake the tow call.
"No, not at all." She answered and watched him leave. "So, are you interested in Web Design?" She turned, asking Sam.
"Huh?" He came too, looking back at her and then realized that the materials he had been going through this whole time where computer textbooks and 'The Inner Workings of HTML clarifications.' "Oh, no. I was studying Law." He told her moving to sit down across from her.
"Wow, that's impressive." She offered, revealing a surprised look. "Was? So you're not anymore?"
"No, my brother and I decided it was a good time for a road trip and some family bonding time." He told her giving up a small white lie. After all, she didn't need to know everything.
"You two must be close then?"
"Oh yeah. That Dean, he's the best." He told her trying desperately to not let her see how that statement make his facial features distort, as he scratched at the back of his head nervously.
"Where were you attending?" She asked, not picking up on the change of mood in the room.
"Stanford." Sam answered.
"Even more impressive." She joked. "And where are you traveling from?"
"We're originally from Kansas."
"Oh, my mother was born there." She told the shaggy haired boy.
"OK, this feels weird." He broke in. "My name's Sam, Sam Winchester." He stated, holding out his hand to her.
"Jordan Harris." She laughed, doing the same as they took each others hand politely.
"You're kidding me?" Dean bitched into the receiver as he made his way back into the main of the house. "Forty-five minutes for a tow truck? Who the hell takes that long?" He pretended to listen at the point when someone on the other end would of responded to his questions. "Yeah whatever, I'll wait." And with that he pressed the off button, silencing the constant buzzing of the dial tone in his ear.
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Sam took the bottle Jordan handed to him. Forty minutes had already passed and if they didn't think of something soon he was pretty sure she would start asking questions, and that's what he was afraid of. Whether or not he was trying to find a way to bring up the topic of them being here, it always made him uneasy when he had to explain to others what Dean and he did on a daily basis.
"Is your brother OK?" Jordan asked Sam with a look of concern as Dean left for the bathroom for the third time in less an hour.
"I don't know, he probably caught some disease from one of the millions of hookers he's slept with." Sam said shrugging it off. He was beginning to sound like Dean himself.
Jordan cocked an eyebrow in response.
"OK then." Was all she could muster as a comeback to what she had just heard. A look of slight embarrassment washed over her face as Dean took his place next to Sam on the couch again. "So …" She trailed off. "Where is this tow truck anyway?" She asked the room as she glanced out the bay window that over looked the street.
