I wake to someone softly planting kisses along my jawline, from my ear to my chin and around to my other ear. I slowly open my eyes but keep perfectly still and wait for Dean to notice I'm awake. After a few more kisses, he glances up and sees I'm up.
"Oh. Hey there, sugar-pie," he whispers.
"Mmm...hey yourself," I say quietly, untangling my arms from him and stretching languorously. I glance towards the door as Dean brushes my hair back from my face and Sam walks in. Dean shifts to look at the door and grins when he sees Sam.
"What's up, Sammy boy?" Dean asks.
"Got us a case, but if you two are, ah, busy..." Sam trails off, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck.
"Nah, it's cool," Dean says while he stretches. "Right, sugar-pie?" he asks me. Before I get a chance to answer, he leans down and kisses me long and hard. I grin, panting slightly when he finally breaks away, and I laugh when I notice Sam's disappearance.
"What's so funny?" Dean asks as he rubs his nose against mine.
"You ran Sam off, silly," I say, giggling.
"Well, if he'd stayed, he might..." he breaks off and whispers, "Cover you ears," to me. "He might learn how to kiss a girl!" Dean yells.
"Shut up, Dean!" Sam hollers back.
"Bitch!" Dean says as he gets up.
"Jerk!" Sam replies as Dean and I walk into the small living area of the motel room. I playfully smack the back of his head as I walk past him to the computer to see what he's dug up. "Ow," he responds, feigning hurt.
"That's whatcha get for interrupting," I say, glancing sideways at Dean. Sam blushes but keeps a straight face. Dean punches him in the arm.
"C'mon man. It ain't like you've never loved somebody," Dean says.
"Yeah...but it's you, dude. You're my brother. It's just a little weird, dontcha think?"
Dean smiles his "I'm-being-so-sarcastic-right-now" smile as he replies. "No, I don't think so. Not at all."
"Ugh. Whatever, ya weirdo," Sam says.
"Hey, you might actually learn somethin'," Dean shoots back.
"Well, I don't wanna learn it from you, bro," Sam tells him. "No offense, Em," Sam says to me. I laugh.
"Now what's that s'posed to mean?" I ask Sam, adding to his discomfort.
"I...it...uh..." he stutters. Dean punches Sam again.
"It's chill, dude. Just don't touch her," he says, growing very serious.
"I wouldn't dream of it," Sam replies, just as seriously. He glances at me before continuing. "Well...I can't promise that," he adds, a suppressed grin making the corners of his mouth twitch. Dean's expression quickly darkens. "Dude. Chill. I won't touch her unless I gotta. 'Kay?" Sam says, trying to placate his brother.
"'Kay," Dean says, grinning.
"God, there is so much freaking testosterone right now," I remark as I skim through the files Sam has pulled up: three vics total, two said to be self-inflicted fatal wounds, one case gone cold. But you just wouldn't saw your own feet and head off, now would you? Def not suicides, if you ask me.
"So, who will we investigate first?" I ask, knowing we'll have to look into all of 'em eventually.
"I was thinkin' the first 'suicide' vic...all three are in a small town called Lyon just outside of Clarksdale, Mississippi. First vic is female - Elizabeth. 23, straight A's through college, no boyfriend, good family, one older brother. The second one's also female, her name's Amelia. 21, good grades in high school, looking into the local colleges, dated her boyfriend for three years. Dad was prone to drink, so the mom got a divorce when our vic was two. No siblings. Third vic was a 25-year-old female, Jessica. Devoted to academics, in college for a Bachelor's in education, single, nice parents, no other siblings. All three found with both feet sawed off and attempted self-decapitation before they bled out...or so the Feds say. No weapons found near the scene which suggests foul play," Sam fills Dean in.
"Hmm. Can we go check out the bodies? I might be able to ID it using the kerfs." I say. Kerf marks were the marks a cutting implement made in a person's bone. Every cutting instrument made a different set, and so the particular saw used could easily be ID'd.
"Uh...what?" Dean asks. "Translate that into English for me, Sammy boy."
"She can figure out what weapon was used, most likely what type of saw blade in this case, from the cutting marks that are left on the bones...provided the M.E. or funeral home didn't screw up and polish 'em," Sam provides.
"Ah. Somebody paid attention in forensics class, apparently." Dean sarcastically replies, throwing me a crooked grin at me.
"Well...you gotta learn what you can, right?" I retort.
"Touché. Now then. Off to look at bones, I presume?"
"Yeah. You two can do your FBI routine while I do that if you wanna,"
"No," Dean says immediately. "One of us is with you at all times...whatever this thing is, you're exactly its type and you're not gettin' hurt on my watch."
"All right, all right," I say, holding my hands up to show I meant no harm. "Just a suggestion, silly," I tell him.
"Sorry. I just wanna keep you safe."
"I know...and I appreciate it, Dean. So. You want me to tag along with y'all, then?"
"Uhm yeah. Three agents is still believable, right Sammy?" Dean asks.
"I'd think so, for such a bizarre case." he replies.
"All righty then. So we'll do the FBI investigations and then go look at some bones...not too bad," I remark.
"Yeah. Not too bad at all," Dean agrees.