(Disclaimer: Don't own anything Supernatural related; the following story, and the characters of Riley and Dee belong to me)


Requiem.

Chapter Four.

Dawn was slowly staking its' claim on the morn. The suns' sleepy rise over the dark horizon, pushing back the night as hazy shafts of light broke through the shadowy pre-dawn darkness. The furtive beams stole back the land, inch by precious inch, as the night reluctantly surrendered its' hold.

Daylight had another battle on its hands as it struggled against the fog that rolled down from the mountains. The thick, smoky cloud was like an eclipsing, ravenous monster with an insatiable appetite, devouring all it came across. It relentlessly chewed up the blacktop, the road slowly disappearing into the belly of the grey beast. It consumed the trees that lined the highway; no tree, big or small was spared. It swallowed houses whole; the faint lights from the homes disappearing as the dwellings did.

The fog blanketed the surroundings; the swirling cloud creeping under doors and slithering through windows as it tumbled forth. It snaked through homes, stole into bedrooms and whispered over the sleeping forms of those within, delving…exploring…discarding, before moving on.

It skulked onwards; moving steadily as it searched. The murky vapour was now an all-encompassing shroud; a misty cloak that enveloped this section of Raleigh, screening its contents from prying eyes. It couldn't, however, hide the obscure shadows that seemed to slink around the fog's diaphanous edges.

It made its way relentlessly forward, spilling into the motel parking lot and grazing over the black beast parked out front. It hovered over the hood, caressing the cold metal before slipping forward. It stopped and began to bob and weave between two doors; an indecisive spiral that blackened as it churned.

It billowed upwards, a swirling mass that found momentary form before dropping low; a decision made as it slid cautiously under the chosen door.

The bleak vapour swept into the room, slithering across the dark blue carpet as it searched. It wrapped itself around the leg of one of the beds, winding slowly upwards as it slid under the sheets. It crept forward; the wispy fingers inching towards the flesh it wanted. It coiled around an ankle; looping lazily up the leg and whispering over the torso. The dark mist followed the contour of the body; veering down an arm and slinking over the body it held, encircling the two as it drifted upwards.

It lightly stroked their faces, whispering over their cheeks, curling round their heads…getting to know them. It disregarded the frowns that formed as they slept; ignored the tightening of their arms around the other; the racing of their hearts only spurring the dark fog on. The misty fingers brushed across their lips, silencing the troubled murmurs. It tip-toed over the eyelids, the rapid-eye-movement nothing more than a minor distraction as it held the lids closed….waiting.

The fog that boiled at the end of the bed suddenly surged; rising up and billowing towards the ceiling. It rippled across the textured plaster; a sooty mushroom cloud that silently rumbled around the small room. Its true intent, never more clear. But it went unnoticed by two of the room's occupants; their captured sleep now holding them in place. They were prisoners within their own minds, their subconscious only partly aware of what was happening. A subconscious that was blind-folded and gagged.

The inky smoke at the base of the bed started to settle, drawing back from the ceiling and conforming to the indistinct figure held within. It raised a filmy hand, giving the signal; the faint chuckle that fluttered round the room, bringing spontaneous goose-bumps to the skin.

The shadowy fog that blanketed to two, crept upwards; a slow, purposeful journey towards the ears. It hesitated only briefly before snaking into the minds of its prey. It followed the small channels, knowing its path…searching for the memories it needed…the memories it would manipulate. It slid through the circuits of their minds as it began its insidious innuendo's; words spoken in the hushed tones of those that were long gone…

Dean could feel the warmth of Riley's body against his; he just couldn't understand the cold that snaked around him. He felt the first stirrings of his instinct start to kick-in, but it was quashed as he heard a voice he'd yearned to hear for too long…

"Dean…"

"Mom?"

Dean frowned in his sleep; a frown that deepened the more he listened. His mind was barely aware of the vaporous hand that drifted over his forehead, smoothing the frown and stirring a memory from his childhood; a time when he'd felt safe, wanted…loved. A time when throwing the ball around with his dad every afternoon after his father came home from the garage was the highlight of his day; and when his mother's soft voice lulled him to sleep with the telling of his favourite fairytale. A time when life had held promise and he'd still had his innocence. He settled; his arms tightening around Riley as he listened to his mother.

Riley was also fighting the instinct that told her all was not right. But the hushed undertones that whispered through her mind, and the arms that tightened around her, made her listen…

"Riley…"

"Dad?"

She could hear the smile in Jack's voice "Yes, sweetheart."

"What…I ...I don't understand….what's going on?"

"You need to listen to me, Riley. Listen and do exactly as I say….'

"But…"

"No 'buts', Riley. Now listen…"

Riley frowned in her sleep; a frown that deepened the more she listened. Her mind was barely aware of the vaporous hand that drifted over her forehead, smoothing the frown as a soft, off-key song sighed through her mind. It took her back to time when she'd felt cared for, wanted…loved. When life was more than her mother's smoke-fuelled, drug haze and food was more than peanut-butter sandwiches that weren't dotted with her blood as she'd tried to cut the bread herself. A time when life had held promise and the chance for innocence had returned. She settled; nestling against Dean as she listened to her father.

The amorphous shadow that loomed over the bed began to shake; it raised an indistinct hand and flicked it towards the other bed. Small bursts of dark cloud shot from its vague form, zig-zagging towards the now restless form of the dark-haired man. The sullied smoke settled gently over the man's face; small parts breaking free as they travelled down his arms and wrapped around his wrists; more cloud-bursts sneaking under the sheets and encircling his ankles. That one would now be no trouble.

It waited.

The diaphanous hand was finally raised again; the smoky tendrils slithering slowly from the minds of the two; covering their tracks as they made their retreat. They slid from the ears of their hosts, leaving a sweet reminder of the other in their minds. It released the eyelids and ungagged the lips; withdrawing discreetly. It curled slowly down the torsos, leaving imprints of the other on the body it was fleeing. It drifted from under the sheets and rejoined its source.

The fog churned again as it was made whole; swelling to fill the room before being sucked suddenly to the floor. It skulked towards freedom; slinking through the carpet and gliding, unnoticed, under the door.

The seeds had been planted.

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Dean felt the first stirrings of wakefulness start to take hold, and a lazy smile spread over his lips as memories from last night drifted through his mind. He turned to the body next to his, throwing an arm across Riley and pulling her close. His lids slipped closed as he kissed her bare shoulder softly, his mother's words lulling him back to sleep; another smile gracing his lips as Riley's hand closed over his. His mother was right. She was always right.

Riley smiled in her sleep as she felt Dean against her; the words of her father, a faint accompaniment to the memories of her and Dean that floated through her mind. She nodded to herself as Dean's arm tightened around her, her fingers intertwining with his as deep sleep claimed her again. She would listen to her father. She always did.

Sam brushed the last vestiges of sleep from him; he wondered at the ache in his wrists as his hands rubbed at eyelids that seemed too heavy. He sighed silently as his thoughts were drawn to the weirdness of last night's dream...another one. It wasn't the frightening nightmare of the other day, but this dream…it was like he was watching himself through a veil of …fog. He couldn't describe it any other way. He gave in to the weight of his lids and concentrated on the memory of the dream. He forced his mind to relive it, but it seemed to slide away from him the harder he thought…like it had a will all its own. It darted left and right as his mind chased it down. He caught small glimpses of a dark, churning cloud that seemed to undulate…almost taking on bodily form before wavering back to an amorphous fog. He grunted in frustration as the details eluded him; he could get nothing concrete from it. But what he could remember, what he couldn't deny, was the undercurrent of menace held within the murky vapour.

He sighed and opened his eyes; he couldn't put it off any longer. He needed to speak with Dean. He turned his head, his eyes widening almost comically…

"DUDE!" he yelled, grabbing the pillow from behind his head and pitching it at his brother.

"Wha..? Huh?" Dean mumbled as he turned his head towards Sam. "Sammy?"

"You couldn't freakin' wait?" Sam asked incredulously; looking around for something else to throw into his brother's now grinning face.

"Morning, Sam." grinned Riley.

"Morning." Sam grunted in reply "Please don't sit up. I've seen too much already." He swung his legs out of bed "I'm gonna shower and if I hear one sound coming from the bedroom, I will kick both your asses!" he stood, mumbling under his breath as he stormed to the bathroom, slamming the door on Riley's whistle.

"Is he gonna be pissed all day?" Riley asked as she settled into the crook of Dean's arm..

Dean shrugged "He'll get over it." He ran a hand through his hair, making it go in all directions, his breath pushing out in a rush.

"What is it?"

He shrugged again "I…" he shook his head "Nothin'."

"Uh huh." She turned, resting on an elbow as she studied Dean. His face was in paradox and she frowned slightly. While he had the beginnings of dark circles under his eyes, he also looked strangely serene. His forehead was bare of worry lines, but there was also a sense of disquiet held within his green orbs. And although is posture was relaxed, there was hidden tension in his shoulders and after last night, that shouldn't have been there.

"Alright, you know how annoyingly painful it can be for others if I want to know something…" she started.

Dean chuckled softly "No shit."

"So 'fess up." She waited but he said nothing. She sighed inwardly and started the conversation they'd both been putting off "We need to talk about the dreams and what happened last night." She laughed at Dean's groan "Relax. I'm not gonna go all 'bunny-boiler' on your arse, okay? But Dean…" she sighed outwardly this time "As fun as the Impala was…"

"Uh huh." He grinned and piqued and eyebrow at her.

She laughed softly "Look, I'm not a prude by any stretch of the imagination…shut up." she smacked him lightly on the shoulder "But out in the open? Where anyone could have seen? Shit. I didn't care, Dean." she whispered "Hell, I'd have done with a goddamn audience. And do not get any ideas."

He chuckled "Riley, it was just…"

"Don't even start to play it down. You know what I'm talking about."

Dean looked over at the bathroom door, the running water softly playing behind it. Sam would be a while yet. He turned to Riley; he knew exactly what she was talking about. It was… "It was us but…it wasn't." he said softly.

She nodded "What the hell's going on?"

He shrugged "I don't know. I mean, I hadn't really thought about you…"

"Liar." she interrupted with a smile.

"Okay, maybe a little. But ever since that dream…" he shifted on the bed "It's like…" he shook his head "I don't know."

"I thought once we...aah…"

"Banged ourselves stupid?" he said with a grin.

She gave a soft laugh "Yeah, that it'd kinda calm down." she glanced out the window nearest her and stared out over the distant mountains, watching the last of what looked like fog, get slowly sucked back up the hills and she shivered involuntarily. "It hasn't and I don't like it."

"Thanks" he deadpanned.

"You know what I mean." she paused "If anything….it's….aaah…intensified." She groaned and flopped down on the bed "This is crazy. Dee and I should just pack and leave ……" she stopped and cocked her head, a small smile gracing her lips "I mean…you and I are in this together…"

Dean nodded as he pulled her against him; soft words barely registering in his subconscious "We get this done…" he kissed her softly, running his hands slowly down her back "The better everything'll be…"

"Mmmhmm…" she murmured against his lips. "Better…"

"Like it should have been…" he whispered.

Neither Dean nor Riley were aware of the words they spoke to each other…and neither were aware of the smile that slid across the sleeping face in the room next to theirs. .

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Sam scowled at Dean and Riley over the top of his menu; their grins only darkening his already dark mood. He dropped his gaze back to the menu, muttering under his breath as he scanned it. He sipped at his coffee as he tried to block the memory of waking to find Riley asleep with his brother in the bed next to his; Dean's ass peeking out from the sheets.

He looked up to the sound of snapping gum "What kin ah git yo' this mo'nin?"

Dean laughed softly as he put a finger to Riley's chin, closing her mouth as she stared at the waitress. "Bacon, eggs, toast, hash browns… aaand some of that Moravian sugar cake." he grinned at Riley "It's topped with cinnamon, right?" he laughed softly, nodding as Riley whispered in his ear.

The young waitress leaned down, giving Dean a view right down her uniform as she grinned at him "It sho'nuff is, honey." She turned her eyes to the Riley and Dee before giving Sam a seductive smile "Whut 'bout the ress of yo'?"

"Just toast for me." said Sam. He looked pointedly at Dean "Kinda lost my appetite."

"Pancakes, here." answered Dee as she handed back her menu, giving the waitress a scowl as she picked up the 'No-Smoking' sign resting on the table "You sure this is right?"

The waitress ignored Dee and looked at Riley, sighing as she snapped her gum again. "Well?"

Riley looked up from the menu "What the hell are 'grits'?"

Riley piqued an eyebrow at the waitresses rolled eyes "Co'n po'ridge wif butter. Yer wan' it on a waffle or whut?"

"Coon porridge?" asked Riley incredulously. "Like …racoons?"

Sam guffawed as Dean spat coffee out his nose and broke into a coughing fit; Riley smacking him on the back as he hacked up a lung.

The waitress rolled her eyes again "Yer not frum aroun' hyar, are yo'?"

"What gave it away?" said Riley sarcastically.

'Yo' talk funny."

"I talk funny." muttered Riley. She looked at the name-tag pinned to the woman's dull-pink uniform "You gonna explain what grits are or what, Wanda?"

Wanda sighed as she snapped her gum again "Ah told yo' already. Co'n po'ridge wif butter. Now do yer wan' it on a waffle o' not?"

Riley turned to Dean "I need a translation. Am I gonna be eating a little furry creature on a waffle if I order that? I'm not a vegan or anything, but I gotta draw the line somewhere."

Dean wiped the tears from his eyes as he laughed "No, Riley. It's…." he cracked up again as an image of a fried racoon, a look of shock and surprise on its tiny face as it was slapped onto a waffle, floated into his mind.

"It's like oatmeal, only corn based." laughed Sam "Racoon."

"Shut up." Riley grinned as she turned to the waitress "Well, you only live once. I'll have the grits on a waffle, Wanda."

Wanda scribbled on her pad; gave Dean and Sam a winning smile and wiggled her hips as she sauntered back to the kitchen.

"Bet you ten bucks she spits in your food, Dundee." laughed Dee.

"No contest." Riley laughed.

"It'll add to the whole 'southern' experience." said Sam with a grin.

Dee stood "Smoke break."

Sam shook his head in disbelief "You just had one."

"And now I'm having another." She pushed past Sam and strode out the door, pulling her leather jacket tight as the chill wind wrapped around her.

"Nicotine withdrawal's a bitch." muttered Riley as she watched her friend pace out front, puffing angrily on her cigarette.

"Riley…" started Sam; he waited for her to turn her eyes to his "Everything alright with Dee?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

Sam shrugged non-committally "She just seems more…tense than the last time we saw her…"

"We?" asked Dean "She seems fine to me." He grinned at Sam "And when hasn't she been a little on the tense side, Sammy?" He smiled as he felt Riley's hand slide up his thigh. "My tension is at an all time low."

Sam sighed "Alright, subject change before I lose my appetite completely. Do you have any plans now that you're back, Riley?"

She shrugged "Not really. Gotta pick up the Landy and Ja...Dad's truck. They're about four hours from here. And I need to figure out what to do with the truck and I gotta sort through the weapons and such…find a buyer for what I don't want…all that kinda crap." She sighed "Should be fun."

"We know someone that might be able to help with that." said Dean with a grin "Road trip."

"Sounds like a plan," said Sam with a smile. This would work out perfectly. He needed someone to bounce his thoughts off right now, and it looked like Dean wasn't going to be all too receptive to them; he clearly had other things on his mind righ now. Sam turned his eyes to the front of the diner, a frown creasing his brow as he watched Dee pace.

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Dee sucked back another lungful of nicotine, relishing the feel of the smoke as it circled her lungs. She didn't give a shit what all the do-gooders and so-called health professionals said; nothing was better than the calming caress of durry. And right now she needed to be calm.

She felt the welling pit of anger starting to simmer inside her; an anger she wanted to direct at someone…anyone. She began to pace, puffing angrily on the cigarette, trying to get the sweet smoke into her lungs faster. Calm. She needed to calm down, to get control of the seething pit of hate that was starting to take control of her. She crushed the finished cigarette under her boot and lit another, unclenching her jaw as she drew the smoke in deep.

She stopped her pacing as a nightmarish image flashed almost imperceptibly through her mind. She frowned; what the hell was that? She closed her eyes, trying to call the image back, the cigarette now completely forgotten as it dangled from her fingertips.

A face filled with fear. A hand covering…no…silencing, what could only be a scream. Terror filled eyes that stared at something just out of view. The arc of something shiny. A deep, resonant chuckle. Lifeless brown eyes.

Dee's eyes snapped open at a burning sting to her fingertips. She dropped the burned-out cigarette to the ground; the frown on her forehead deepening to a scowl. Those eyes had seemed familiar…but…she couldn't place them. That bothered her. She never forgot a face and she had a feeling this was something she needed to remember.

She turned to a knock at the window; ignoring her grim visage mirrored in the glass. The darting of her eyes and the almost death-like appearance of her skin. A distorted mirror image of herself. She focussed and saw Riley gesturing to her and mouthing a string of obscenities that ended with the word 'pancakes'. Dee gave her a short smile, punctuating it with a raised finger as she headed back inside.

The strange vision now completely forgotten.

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After arguing with Riley and Dean for almost fifteen minutes; Sam finally seated himself in the front seat of the Impala next to his brother; ignoring the mumbled curses of the both of them.

"You know, I get carsick if I sit in the back." Riley said as she settled herself behind Sam.

"Sure you do." Sam replied, turning in his seat as Dean gunned the engine and roared out of the motel parking lot. "I don't sit in back."

"You understand that technically, the Impala belongs to me." countered Riley "Dean promised her to me when we were in Vermont…"

"Here she goes…" Dean muttered.

"That's right, here I go. And seriously, would you want to be sitting in front of me after…" she grinned "I's hads me some grits?"

"You are more disgusting than Dean." Sam muttered, trying to hide his smile as he turned in his seat.

"Is that even at all possible?" Dee asked as she took her cigarette packet from her jacket.

Dean looked at Dee in the rearview "No smoking in the car. One stray ember and the upholstery is screwed."

"The Impala? Screwed?" laughed Riley.

Dean grinned at Riley "Now there's…"

Sam sat up suddenly in his seat "Hey…" he pointed "Pull over, Dean."

Dean followed Sam's pointed finger to the array of police cars with flashing lights and the coroner's van that filled the parking lot of the bar they'd visited last night. "Sammy, it was a dive…"

"Just pull over." Sam insisted.

"Oh, come on, Sam," said Dee with a roll of her eyes "It was probably just a couple of tosser's getting into it over some bad boot-scootin' moves."

"Dean…"

Dean sighed and eased the Impala to a stop. Sam was already rummaging through the fake I.D.'s, looking for the one he wanted. He grabbed two, shoving one at Dean as he got out of the car. "Stay here." he ordered Riley and Dee.

"I'm getting out for a smoke, Winchester. You got a problem with that?" angered Dee as she pushed herself past Dean. The anger was starting to rise again, only this time it was tempered with apprehension.

"Just…" Sam shook his head as Dee leaned back against the Impala, her cigarette already lit. "We'll be back in a minute." Sam told Riley as she exited the car.

"Go play cop." said Riley with a smile as she eyed the passenger seat.

Sam stopped himself from throwing his hands in the air as he followed Dean towards the yellow crime scene tape. They headed towards the most jittery of cops that lined the tape and flashed their 'FBI' badges as they slipped under it and passed the nodding cop.

They walked purposefully towards the bar, slipping past another cop as they headed inside. The place was crawling with police; uniformed and plain-clothed. But all wore the same nervous expression on their faces. Sam headed towards two men speaking in hushed whispers on the far side of the bar. He glanced quickly at the table they'd occupied last night as the two men turned to him.

Sam flipped his badge open and closed quickly "Special Agent Addison." he said in a short, clipped voice; he motioned to Dean "Special Agent Hayes. Fill us in."

The men hesitated briefly, before the elder of the two asked quietly "FBI? How the hell'd yo' get here so fast?"

Sam was thrown briefly by the cops response; but Dean stepped in "We ask the questions…"

"Detective Wilson." he shook their hands and glanced around the bar before returning his attention to Dean and Sam "I never seen nothin' like it. Been on the force for twenty-seven years…" he shook his head.

"That's why we're here. Now if you could tell us what you know…" started Sam.

The man nodded "Gina Kingston, 25." He glanced towards the women's bathroom "Cleaner found 'er this mo'nin around 8.30. Called us…we called the coroner…then you lot."

Dean gave a cursory nod "Cause of death?"

Detective Wilson sighed "Don't rightly know." He scratched at his head "She was…pinned to the bathroom wall with the biggest damn knife I've ever seen."

"One knife?" Sam asked incredulously.

"Ayuh. Right through the neck…"

"And you don't think that's what killed her?" Dean asked with a smirk.

Detective Wilson narrowed his eyes at the young, scruffily dressed man in front of him "No. I don't," he replied testily "There weren't no blood." He called to a man who was coming out of the women's bathroom. "Charlie!"

Dean and Sam stared at a man who was easily in his eighties; his short white hair cut military short and his dark blue eyes shone with intelligence that was visible even from this distance. He walked with a slight limp and they noticed the palsy in his left hand.

"Charlie, tell the FBI what you told me."

The old man appraised Dean and Sam quickly before giving them a small nod "Exsanguination. She was bled out before she was pinned to the wall. No sign of a struggle but no trace of blood neither."

"So she was killed somewhere else and dumped here." said Dean.

Charlie shook his head "She was killed here alright."

"If there's no blood, no blood trail, how can you be sure?" Sam asked.

"Because…" started Charlie "She's been dead 'bout 9 hours and last time I saw her, she was dancing up a storm around midnight." He looked at both Dean and Sam "Not long before you two left here with them girls."

Dean raised an eyebrow "Out a little late, old timer?"

Charlie laughed softly "You get to be my age, son? Sleep don't come easy." He turned serious "She never left here last night. She was killed here, no doubt. Where the blood is?" he shrugged "That's not my job." He turned as the body-bag was moved out of the bathroom and placed on a gurney. "Now if you'll 'scuse me. I got work to do." He nodded at Dean and Sam and turned to Detective Wilson "Bill, I'll break the news to her parents."

"Thanks, Charlie."

The four men watched silently as Gina Kingston's body was wheeled past them. Charlie turned back "Just one more thing…" he started as he stared at Dean and Sam "Whoever killed her. They knew what they were doing. Not just the exsanguination but the placement of the dagger that held her to the wall. Not many people would now how to hold a body off the floor with one blade As bad as it sounds, that's a skill.."

Sam walked over to Charlie "May I?" he asked and Charlie unzipped the bag; the slow clicking of the zipper almost deafening in the cold silence of the bar.

Sam stared at the waxen face of Gina Kingston. He frowned; she seemed vaguely familiar but she could have been one of the many faces his eyes had danced across when he was scanning the bar last night. But it wasn't her face that held his attention; it was the terror that still remained in her lifeless brown eyes. Even in death, the fear was clearly evident. But it wasn't just fear…it was pure, unmitigated terror. He knew it when he saw it.

"Whatever killed her…scared the daylights out of the poor child." Charlie whispered.

"Whatever?" asked Sam just as quietly.

Charlie nodded "No person can hold that much terror over another." He zipped up the bag and motioned to the attendants; following them solemnly out the door.

Sam turned as Dean sidled up to him "Whatever it was, Dean. It scared the crap outta her."

"Did a quick sweep of the bathroom." Dean whispered "Like the old dude said, clean as a whistle. EMF quite as a mouse too. This ain't one for us, Sammy." He herded his brother out the door "And the sooner we get out of here the better. The real Feds are on their way remember?"

Sam nodded distractedly as he watched Gina's body loaded into the coroner's van. Although he didn't quite agree with Dean's assessment of it, he knew they had to get away from the crime scene. Dean was right, the last thing they needed was the real Feds on their asses...again.

He looked towards the Impala and groaned as he saw Riley lounging in the passenger seat, waving at him with a grin plastered to her face. "Dean…"

Dean grinned at his brother and clapped him on the shoulder "Looks like you lost your seat, Sammy."

"You know you can't…aaah, forget it." He walked round to the drivers side of the car when he noticed Riley had locked the passenger door "Ready, Dee?"

Dee nodded and stubbed out her cigarette. "Well? Anything interesting?"

"Interesting? Yeah, Something for us? No." said Dean. "In. We gotta get the hell outta Dodge. The Feds are a'comin'."

Dee slipped into the Impala, sliding behind Riley as Sam sat down next to her. "So, Winchester. Much ado about nothing, huh?"

Sam turned to Dee "Nothing? A girl was murdered in there, Dee!"

"Easy, now." Said Dee placatingly "Riley, hand the boy a joint."

"I don't want a joint, Dee." He turned to her "You went to the bathroom in the bar last night. You see anyone in there?"

Dee shook her head "Nope. Not a soul. All on my lonesome, which is just the way I like it when I need to pee."

"Thanks for the imagery." Dean muttered as the Impala screeched back onto the highway.

"You got that joint or what, Dundee?" Dee asked with exasperation.

"No smoking of any kind in my car." Dean reiterated as he sped past the coroner's van.

"My car." said Riley with a grin. "Do we have to go over this again, Dean?"

Sam ignored the flirting that was disguised as bickering from the front seat; looking past Dee to the coroner's van, He hid a frown as he noticed Dee stopped her head from turning to look at the van.

He barely caught what he thought sounded like Latin, whisper from her lips.

To be continued…