Curious Case of You and I (Part II)

Ok, first of all, the dude inside the room looked nothing LIKE the freaking actor. On the plus side, he was cuter, but still—I was a little creeped out; did my presence already change the order of the show?

"What the-?" The guy, once in his relaxed pose, straightened his back against the bed stand and the two dark skinned Asian chicks were just coming to their senses; one of them poked her head out from under the covers.

"Well, it's gooey," Sam said, and I snorted silently, but just loud enough to be noticed. The sluts who were with him on the bed got up, grabbed something to put on their unhealthy skinny body, and ran another on the other side of the room.

"Sorry. We uh, got the wrong room..." Dean smiled apologetically...well, not really, and was about to walk out, but of course dear fans, as a fan myself I wouldn't let that happen.

"Would you close the door?" The man yelled, panicked.

"Hold just a second cupcake," Damn, when did I turn all 'Dean-like'. Before I stepped in front of the two brothers I made sure to pull my skirt up just that small fraction. One thing I learned from everyday life was that, men were more easily appeased by girls who show more skin.

"Nice tattoo," I smiled but frowned to make it look like I was just realizing who he was, " Do you know a man named Cliff Whitlow?" I strutted to the vanity on the right side of the room.

"Never heard of him..." The nervousness in his voice was obvious. He swallowed audibly, and I turned to him to stare him down. My eyes bore on his chest, criticizing his bodily details with my eyes. What kind of a 70 year old dick leaves his wife alone at home to get some bang...

"That's weird..." Sam appeared beside me, opening up his wallet. I guess he caught on, anyone would've if they saw his tattoo, "...'Cause you're carrying his wallet." Dean walked over to Cliff and raised the covers.

"Huh. You're wife told us about your birthmark there. That's nice." Dean paused for a moment.

"Well you look great Cliff...! Did you get some work done?" Dean said sarcastically.

"Could you give us some privacy?" Cliff sighed nodding to the girls. They shot one dirty look at me and headed out. I wanted to bash their faces off...Dean winked at them, but in a moment's time returned to his traditional 'blue-steel' expression. Oh Dean...

"Please don't tell my wife about this," He begged us, after paying the girls and shutting them out of the room, "For all she knows I'm dead."

I frowned again, scrutinizing his demeanour. God, I hated this guy. How could he do this to his wife? I mean—seriously...

"How could you possibly be Cliff Whitlow?" Dean shook his head.

"I can't tell you..."

"Well, either you tell us or we tell your wife about all these Tuesday nights you've been spending 'working late'" I was getting impatient and not to mention angry, but somehow I felt like I was fitting in with the 'investigation' persona.

"Ok, Ok! It was a game..."

"Like...Xbox...?" Sam wondered.

"What's Xbox?" Cliff frowned and looked at Sam as though he was a complete idiot. Sam, however, raised both his brows a bit surprised that he didn't know what Xbox was.

"No, poker. High stakes instead of cash—"

"You play for years..." I said, remembering his exact words. I wasn't quite in the moment because I was trying to remember all the itty-bitty details of this episode. Sam, Dean and Cliff looked at me with curious eyes. Although Cliff didn't as surprised as Sam or Dean.

"You've met this guy..?"

"No." But they only got more confused. " I mean, it makes sense right? One guy dies of old age and he was what, 25 five the day before? Then there's you. Kicked back maybe 30 years if not more." I sighed. Yeah, it made sense logically, but Sam and Dean knew why I knew exactly what I knew.

"But how'd he do it?" I asked, hoping to get all the attention off of me.

"Poker chips," Cliff says, moving his hands in anxiety, "gives me 25 of them and chants some kind of mumbo-jumbo over them, and says I'll give you 25 years. I was laughing, but now look at me!" He spreads his arms out, showing his bod. Ok fine, I'll admit, he was really hot.

"What he say?" Sam asked.

"Why should I care? My bad hip's good, I don't have to wear my glasses. One of those girls were here for free..!" Dean looked amused. Sluts. Jerks.

"What did he look like?" I asked, staying professional.

"Just a guy. Maybe 35? Irish accent. His name was Patrick." He stated factually. He seemed all too eager to give away the specifics .

"Where do we find him?"

"He keeps moving, from bar to bar. You don't find him, he finds you."

Dean turned around and looked at me, smiling humourlessly while at it. He nodded, almost as if to say thank-you. I replied the gesture.

"Thank you," I smiled sweetly at Cliff; I think for a moment there he almost blushed. That is so going to get to my head. The Winchesters and I walked out of the room, but Dean stayed back for a moment to whisper something nonsensical to Cliff. I just ignored him, rolling my eyes at Sam and he laughing in response.

When he got outside to the street the two brother looked at me with quizzical eyes.

"I guess we don't have to call Bobby..?" Dean asked.

Translation:

You better tell us what the hell is going to happen to us, or else.

"Yeah, " I laughed a little; I had chance against a fight with the Winchesters. No hope in hell..

"So..? It sounds crazy but there has to be some sense behind this thing." Sam looked around and avoided people's shoulder grazes and such.

"It's not that crazy. There's tons of lore on this. But Patrick, he's a witch," Dean rolled his eyes and groaned.

"You better be telling the truth," Dean said casually. I should have noticed that it was just a small remark but I took it seriously

" No Dean I'm lying," He stopped in his tracks and turned around to face me, "I'm lying about everything. I'm a demon. You see that's why the salt didn't work on me, or the holy water. So yeah, you can just go piss off and ask Bobby for help now. Waste some precious time that you could potentially be using to track and ice the freaking devil." I turn around and walk off furious. I could hear footsteps following my departure.

"Hey..! Emelda! " Sam called out

"Look," Sam said when he caught up to me, "Deans a douche don't listen to him." I looked over to Dean and he made a face at Sam, "We really need your help."

I was so tempted to comply to Sam's request, I really was. I mean, you all know, his puppy dogs eyes, the way he makes his voice sound so needy. Usually this would be such a turn-off but with Sam it hit the opposite effect. My frown dissipated and I sighed.

"Dean," I said emphasizing each syllable, " He better keep his pie hole shut or I'm turning around." I tried not to make it sound like a threat and I guess it worked since Sam smiled apologetically.

Author's Note

Ok, this is it. I CAN'T WRITE THE EPISODE I JUST CAN'T! It's because I keep on writing all the itty-bitty details and it's just downright painful. This chapter was slow sorry... Next chapter, will be more exciting things will happen. Look forward to it! FYI, i'll give you a quick overview of what actually happened and that I skipped over. I'm trying to build this hate-hate relationship with Dean and Emelda. But thanks for reading anyways! Maybe she'll end up with Sam, but I can't leave Dean brokenhearted...hmmm...what should i do? Lol, I already know xP have fun guessing.

Thanks for reading, again! Try and review if you can, don't have to since this chapter was sucky.

Love,

Silver Eyed Monster