2004

Cassie stood on the outside edge of the crowd around the pool table and looked out over a room full of people. She saw no sign of Sherri. She glanced back at the clock on the wall. Sherri was nearly an hour late, and hadn't responded to Cassie's texts. She slumped against the wall for a moment before giving in and climbing up on a bar stool. At least she had a good view of the pool game. There was some sort of quasi-unofficial tournament that night, the sort of thing the bar owners were happy to ignore as long as the beer was flowing. The next game hadn't yet started, but further into the crowd, she could hear people placing bets and laughing.

"So you finished your paper," said a voice in her ear. She jumped, then turned to see the guy from the library- Dean- holding a pool cue and grinning at her.

"You did that on purpose," she complained.

"Kinda." His grin turned into a smirk. "You jumped like three feet in the air."

"You're all about making friends and influencing people, aren't you?" she said, crossing her arms and tilting her chin up.

"Oh, you know. I try," he said, blatantly giving her the once-over. "Especially when people look as good as you do."

"Uh-huh." Cassie gave him her best please, fool look and ignored the compliment. "So why are you here? What are you doing, stalking me?"

"I could ask you the same question, sweetheart." He arched his brows.

Cassie looked at him askance."Oh, believe me, if I were stalking you, you'd never see me coming."

He grinned again, easy and open, and she nearly facepalmed for walking into so obvious an opening. So much for witty repartee. He answered just as she expected:

"Good thing you're not, then. I'd love to see you coming."

She scrunched up her nose. "Oh, I bet you think you're so clever-"

"-can't help what I am-" He interjected, cocky and self-assured.

She leaned forward on the stool and right into his personal space before finishing: "What makes you think you could possibly keep up?"

"Try me," he challenged.

Cassie sat back and clucked her tongue. "Aw, sorry. I don't do test drives, honey. "

He made a fair enough face, but it was just a feint, one which quickly mutated into something wickedly sly. "Who said anything about a test drive?"

She gave in and burst out laughing. "You are too ridiculous."

He grinned. "I try."

"Yeah, I bet."

"What are you saying?"

"Oh, nothing," she teased. "Wouldn't want to bruise a fragile male ego."

"Good- I wouldn't want to be thrown off my game." He gave her a suggestive look that made it clear he wasn't talking about pool.

Cassie found herself giggling at that, stupid as it was, but couldn't quite muster enough shame to feel bad about it. "You don't have to worry about that, either."

He held a hand dramatically to his breast. "You wound me."

"I doubt it," Cassie observed. Dean shrugged easily and leaned back against the wall, watching the crowd. "You know, I didn't actually expect you to return the books. So thanks for that."

He glanced over at her, then back at the crowd. "Finished what I came for."

"Oh yeah. Your mysterious serial killer." Her tone was light, teasing. Sherri'd been right. He was fine. Cassie briefly wondered if Sherri flaking out was part of some plan to get her to talk to the guy, but that was too Machiavellian to imagine- not to mention improbable- even for Sherri.

"Where's your friend?" he asked, failing to rise to the bait.

Cassie sighed. "Flaked out, I guess."

"Her loss, my gain." He turned back to face her, but was interrupted by a shouted: "Winchester! You're up!" Dean pushed off the wall. "That's me," he said, "And now you know my name, but I still don't know yours, beautiful."

She rolled her eyes. "It's Cassie."

"It suits you. Cassie." He tasted the word, then grinned. He nodded towards the pool table. His eyes danced. "Watch this."


2010

When Dean got back to the motel room, it was empty. He grabbed his phone. No messages. He called Sam, but it rang through to voicemail.

"Pick up your damn phone, Sam," he said, then hung up. He paced the room, pressing one hand against his forehead. He spun around on his heel and called Cas. No answer there either. He hung up and typed out a text message: Call me ASAP. He headed back outside and called Bobby. The phone rang twice before being picked up. Dean heaved a sigh of relief.

"Bobby. What do you know about that Reynolds guy?" He cradled the phone against his ear.

"Hey, Dean. Good to hear from you too." Nice to know that Bobby was feeling extra-helpful today.

"Look, Bobby, it's important."

"It always is. What's the problem?"

"We're in Raighsville-"

"Yeah, I know that-"

"But there weren't any demons."

"What?"

"Reynolds. He lied. This town hasn't seen so much as a burglary recently apparently, let alone three demons going up like roman candles."

Bobby said nothing, but Dean could hear his breathing. "Dean, I don't know what to tell you. I know Reynolds, he's always been dependable, if a little...fixated. I got the reports of not being able to go into town from three other hunters, at least." Bobby pauses again. "I don't know what's going on, but I'll see what I can dig up. Just don't wait around. I don't like the way this smells. I'd round up Sam and get the hell out of there if I were you, boy."

"Yeah, that's what I'm thinking, Bobby. I'll call you from the road. If I can find Sam. And my car," he adds.

"Sam's gone missing? And you didn't think to mention that first?"

Dean shakes his head, forgetting Bobby can't see him. "I don't know Bobby. He's not picking up his phone, but he's supposed to be in the library...I'm going to go see what I can find out."

"Good luck. Try not to do anything stupid. I'll see what I can find out."

"Thanks, Bobby." Dean hangs up puts the phone back in his pocket. He walks out to the street and looks up and down it, trying to find a car he could steal without drawing too much attention. He's got a feeling it's a lost cause. This is a small town. A blue SUV honks, drawing him out of his thoughts. The window rolls down, allowing him to see the driver more clearly. Cassie.

"You look like you could use a ride," she calls.

"You've got great timing," he says, going around the side and climbing in.

"I know," she says, pulling back out into the street. "Where to?"

"Library. I need to find my brother."

"Sure thing," she says. "So you've just walked into a trap, I'm guessing."

Dean rubs a hand up the side of his face "I hope not."

"But you think so." She accelerates down the main street, just barely breezing through an intersection just as the light turned red. "Should I be worried? Is there anything I need to know, like the salt thing?"

"I doubt it," he says, watching as she runs another yellow light. "If it's who I think it is, the best thing you could do is just stay low. They're not likely to bother you, which is good, 'cause there's not much you can do about it if they decide to."

"Great."

"I told you you didn't want to know."

"Duly noted," she says, pulling into the library parking lot, right next to a big black classic car she could swear looks familiar. "Isn't that your car?"

Dean throws open the door and is out of the car before she even comes to a complete stop. She takes that as a yes, throws the car into park and climbs out after him. To hell with the low profile. She's tired of this man blowing into her life, turning it upside down, and then disappearing before she knows which way is up. She was never born to play Penelope, but maybe she'll play Circe, this time around.


2004

Cassie heard it more than she saw it: a sigh went up from the crowd, as if they'd all let go of the same pent up breath in one was a moment of stunned, shocked silence, and then the applause and shouting began. Library guy was just one quirk away from being revealed as an international man of mystery, Cassie thought, watching her new friend the pool shark scoop up his winnings.

"Come on, man," laughed one of his supporters- one of the lucky few to have put bet on the newcomer, Cassie guessed- "You robbed us of all the suspense. You could have at least let the other guy think he had a chance." Dean tilted his head towards Cassie. "I had my reasons. Next time, man." He swaggered away from the pool table with the same nonchalance with which he'd approached it, but if anything, his grin had grown even more cocky. He brushed past her, throwing an arm around her shoulder and sweeping her away from the pool table. She raised an eyebrow. He smiled to the people still crowding around and said in an undertone, "So, once the shock wears off, I think there's about half a football team over there who are gonna be out for my blood."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before parting fools from their money," she said, leaning in and settling against his side. "You know, being used as a human shield was not exactly what I had in mind for this evening."

"You didn't expect to be stood up, either," Dean said, "I think we're both coming out ahead on this deal."

"You've got no shame, you know that, right?"

He winked. "Guilty as charged." He caught sight of a linebacker quickly approaching out of his peripheral vision. "So, what were your plans?" he asked. "I mean, before your friend ditched you?"

"By which you mean, do I have any plans that involve not being here five minutes from now?"

"I ain't gonna complain if you do," he said, picking up the pace just a little. "I've been in fights with drunk linebackers, and it's not fun. They don't know when to stay down."

"You say that like you've got a problem with it."

"Any permanent damage beyond bruised pride, and they go and call in the cops. I don't know 'bout you, sweetheart, but I'm not looking to commit any felonies tonight."

"I'll let them know to schedule you for tomorrow instead," she said dryly.

"Damn straight. So about those plans," he said as they got closer to the door. "Did you have any? Somewhere not here?"

"I did," she said. "My friend's cousin invited us to a frat party. I take it you're interested?"

"I would be honored to attend," he said, with all the fake dignity he could muster as he swept her out the door.

She laughed. It was going to be a good night.