A/N: Sorry I missed a night. Busy and didn't have time to post. So, where were we? Ah, yes. They fell asleep in each other's arms. Ah!


Love Express (Chapter 7) by frostygossamer


The following morning, Sam woke first and lay for a long time with his arm trapped under Dean's chest, just because he couldn't bring himself to break the perfection of the moment. After a while Dean stirred, grumbled and turned over onto his back then fidgeted, muttering softly, until Sam retracted his arm, waking him.

"Hi, baby," Sam greeted him gently.

"Mhm," Dean murmured, his eyes focussing slowly. "Morning, Sammy."

Sam rolled toward him and kissed him on the mouth. "How're you feeling?"

Dean wriggled experimentally. "Actually I feel good," he said, like he was surprised.

Sam chuckled and got out of bed. "Gonna go shower. We can grab breakfast at that diner next door."

When he had disappeared in the bathroom, Dean slid to the side of the bed and sat up, swinging his legs onto the floor. He felt kind of different this morning. Complete. And a little sore. It felt strangely good. He got up and rummaged in his duffel for a change of clothes.

Sam came back out of the bathroom a few minutes later, fully dressed, and went straight over to Dean to plant a smacker of a kiss on him. He patted the shorter guy on the bare butt.

"Great. You're up," he said. "Dude, we need to get moving."

"Jackass," Dean muttered, as he hustled into the bathroom for his shower.

Sam was waiting outside the motel room when he finished up and joined him with his bag.

"Could eat a razorback hog," Dean declared. "Butt-sex gives me an appetite, apparently."

"Or maybe it's just because we skipped dinner?" Sam suggested.

~X~

The moment they walked in the diner, Dean felt all eyes were on him. And it wasn't just because of the ridiculously jangly bell over the door. They selected a booth and sat down quickly.

"What's with the people-watching?" Dean hissed, a little unnerved.

"I have ZERO idea," Sam replied, casually perusing the menu. "It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the level of noise you made last night."

Dean gasped. "You think they all heard us?"

Sam shook his head. "Nah. Just saying, I doubt anyone on site got any sleep."

Dean groaned. "This is too freakin' much. Can't sit here and eat."

He started to get up out of his seat, but Sam grabbed his arm and made him sit back down.

"Dean," he said. "Half of them are jealous, and the other half we won't see again anyways. Suck it up and order breakfast."

Dean exhaled huffily. "OK," he said. "But only because I'd give my right freakin' nut for a good meal right now."

Sam gave him an "Uh-huh?" to that.

Dean looked up and found a waitress standing over them with a sour look on her face.

"Uh, I'll take the special with a side of bacon and a stack of pancakes," he said quickly.

The woman glanced at Sam and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, and I'll have the same," he said, and gave her a big toothy smile.

"O... kay," she responded, shaking her head, and disappeared toward the service station.

~X~

Dean pushed his demolished plate away and leaned back in this seat, patting his stomach.

"Now that's what I call a GOOD breakfast," he said.

"Half decent," Sam agreed.

"Glad you think so," Dean said, standing up. "Cos you're paying."

He grabbed his duffel from under the table and made his way to the door, glancing back at the last moment to check if anyone was still watching him. A couple people looked down hastily. He treated them to a leering grin and went on outside.

Sam finished the last of his coffee and fished in his pocket for his wallet, dropping a few bills on the table before getting up to follow Dean. He picked up his own bag and strode to the exit.

Outside he was surprised to see a small group of motel staff hanging around, and barely caught a glimpse of Dean being forced protesting into the back of a police car, handcuffed.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Where the hell're they taking him?"

The pimply motel clerk looked up at Sam. "It's the guy that came here to meet with that woman. The chick that stole all that jewelry from the place she worked at. Her picture was on the news. I recognized her," he finished proudly.

"She was a looker that gal," an older employee added. "Red hair, great figure, legs, the works. Guy was her accomplice."

"Like hell he was," Sam declared.

Sam was starting to realized that his boyfriend had a real knack of getting into a fix.

~X~

Dean was still snickering to himself as he stepped out of the diner. His good mood didn't last long.

"There he is!" shouted the spotty youth from the office, pointing right at him. "That's him!"

Before Dean could react, a couple burly police officers had stepped up behind him and cuffs had been snapped on his wrists.

"Wha-what the hell?" he demanded. "Hey, what's going on?"

"I'm arresting you in connection with the theft of over twenty-five thousand dollars in jewelry from the Diamond World store two days ago," stated one officer.

"Dude, I wasn't even in this state two days ago," Dean objected.

Ignoring his protests, the cops dragged him to their patrol car, amid cheers from the small crowd that had gathered. One cop helped him a little roughly into the back of the cruiser.

"Man, you have so got the wrong guy," Dean protested.

The other officer leaned over the back of his seat.

"Oh yeah?" he chuckled. "Well, we'll see about that back at the station."

Dean fumed in the patrol car's backseat, muttering curses under his breath all the way to the station, where he was hauled out of the car and booked in.

"You gotta let me make a phone call right now," he declared.

He really needed to hear Sam's voice.

~X~

Sam jumped in his SUV and roared away down the highway. Who was this red-haired woman they claimed Dean had met? He vaguely remembered seeing some redheaded bitch outside the motel, but what did they mean, he was her accomplice? Why would they connect her and Dean?

He had to get to the station and find Dean before he got himself into more trouble. The thing was, Sam could totally believe Dean WAS quite capable of somehow making himself some criminal's accomplice in the five minutes he was out of Sam's sight. He was capable of anything.

Grinding to a halt outside the clearly signposted station, Sam ran inside full of indignation.

"You have a friend of mine in custody?" he told the desk sergeant. "He was just brought in? Wrongly arrested."

The sergeant snorted at that accusation. He shuffled his paperwork.

"That would be Mr. Dean-"

"Yeah, that would be him," Sam cut in. "Need to see him right now."

The cop sniffed and handed him a form. "Fill this in and wait over there," he said, indicating the waiting area.

Sam growled, filled in the form quickly, thrust it back at the officer and went and sat down on the uncomfortable plastic seating. It had clearly been designed for children or little people, not tall guys with long legs.

A second later his cell phone started to ring. The desk sergeant shot him a disapproving look as he pulled it out of his pants pocket and answered the call.

"Yeah, Dean," Sam said. "Don't worry, baby. I'm right here."

~X~

At the local police station, a beefy middle-aged officer put Dean in a cell and unlocked his handcuffs.

"Not the guy you're looking for," Dean asserted.

The officer sighed. He had heard that SO many times.

"The motel manager says you checked into a room with Missie Taylor last night," he repeated. "Still saying you don't know her?"

"The redhead? I DON'T know her," Dean insisted. "I checked into a room last night. But not with HER."

"The night clerk-" the officer began.

"The night clerk got it wrong," Dean claimed again. "I, uh, I let him get it wrong. Because I didn't want him to know who I WAS checking in with."

"Why not?" the cop asked dubiously.

Dean took a deep breath. "Because I was with... a guy."

"You were with a guy," repeated the officer, flatly.

"Yeah," Dean agreed, hanging his head. "My, uh, boyfriend."

The officer weighed that up. "You do know that's not illegal in this state, right?"

"Sure," Dean said. "I know. It's just kinda... new for me, is all."

The cop shook his head, chuckling as he locked up the cell and walked away.

"You do realize that's gotta be the lamest damn alibi any suspect's ever given, don't you?"

Dean settled down to wait. Sam would sort things out, at least he damn well hoped so. He leaned back against the cell's bars and closed his eyes. Instantly images of his sexual gymnastics with Sam last night flashed through his mind.

Damn it, if he didn't get out of there soon, Dean was probably going to have to get used to playing the bitch for real.

For some freakin' prison bear!

TBC


A/N: Oh dear. Dean HAS got himself in a pickle. ;) More soon.