Flipping on the light to reveal hideously pepto-pink and white wallpaper, Skye took a look around their newest extremely-short-term rental. It was pretty standard. Two beds, hideous green duvet covers, dresser, TV, table, vomit green used-to-be-a-carpet. Home sweet decorating disaster. Dropping her bag and a box of books onto the bed nearest the door, she wasted no time in peeling her jacket off and tossing it over the box, sitting down with a sigh of relief to peel off her heels as the boys walked in with their own hands full. She might be able to do everything Fred Astaire did backward and in heels, didn't mean she had to like it.

The faint metallic clink of weaponry came from the duffle slung over Dean's shoulder before he dropped it onto the floor with a firm thud, Sam's arms full of his laptop, papers, and more books.

"Did we decide on Chinese?" Turning to crawl up to the head of the bed, Skye grabbed the motel phone off the table stuck between the two beds, rolling onto her back as she dialed the number of the Chinese place three blocks over.

"General Tsos and egg rolls." Stripping off his suit jacket with an eagerness that matched Skye's, Dean threw it onto the foot of the bed and loosened his tie as he nodded an affirmative. Slipping his tie off, Dean tossed it onto his jacket before untucking his shirt and unsnapping his cuffs, too intent on getting comfortable to notice the girl watching every move.

"Sam?" Leveraging herself up onto her elbows, she kept one ear on the ringing phone line, the other on Sam, and both eyes on the guy unbuttoning the top three buttons on his collar so fast it was a wonder they didn't just pop off, "Your usual or you gonna change it up today?"

"The usual. Double order." Sitting down at the table, he flipped open his laptop, not bothering to take off his jacket or tie yet. Powering up his computer before leaning back to kick off his boots, he figured he'd better hurry or he'd lost first dibs on the bathroom.

Speaking into the handset, Skye ordered their dinner. General Tsos, Sesame Chicken and Lo Mein with a metric ton of wontons and egg rolls. Catching Sam's eye, she looked from him to the bathroom and back, raising a brow as she confirmed the order with the person on the other end of the line. Flashing Skye her own favorite hand gesture, Sam took the hint and grabbed his bag, disappearing into the bathroom.

"Should be about forty minutes," Returning the handset to its cradle, she laid back with her hands laced behind her head, closing her eyes for a minute before feeling the sag of the mattress next to her when Dean sat down. Rolling onto her stomach, she pillowed her head on her arm, watching him as he leaned over to take off his boots. Watching the way his shoulders moved, the play of muscles in his back under the dress-shirt that did very little to hide any of it. Not like she didn't know exactly what was under there anyway and it was entirely too easy to imagine things she really shouldn't… She rolled onto her stomach and rested her forehead on her arm, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. Sam needed to hurry the fuck up with the shower.

Glancing back over his shoulder, he looked down at her, "You okay over there?"

"Grand." Her voice muffled by the mattress, she lifted her free hand off the mattress a few inches and flicked her fingers at him to get him to go away, "Just tired."

Finishing with the last few buttons on his shirt, he gave the damn thing a dirty look and threw it onto the foot of the bed next to everything else before laying down next to Skye. Closing his eyes for a minute, he was on the verge of dozing off when a strangled groan made him open an eye to find the girl looking at him, "Somethin' I can help you with, Tinkerbell?"

Oh, lots of things. "Nope."

Rolling onto his side, he propped his head in his hand, a half-smile on those stupidly perfect lips, "You sure about that?"

Shifting to mirror his position with her head propped in the palm of her hand, she let her eyes drift a little further than she should before meeting his gaze with a taunting smile, "What could I possibly want your help with, Winchester?"

"Would you like a list?" Laying his free hand over hers, he bit his bottom lip before flashing her a suggestive smile, " 'Cause I can think of several things."

"Hmm, let me think about that for a minute... I'm good, thanks." Uh-huh.

"Oh, I bet you are." He let his hand drift up from where it had been, slowly skimming her skin with his fingertips, leaving goosebumps in his wake, " 'Course we'd need to test that theory."

"Walked right into that one, didn't I?" Skin tingling, she tried to ignore the rapid beat of her heart. If she was smart, she'd put a definitive end to this right now. If she was smart, she'd get up and walk out. If she was smart… Dumb as a box of rocks, this bitch.

"Little bit." Sliding his hand up under the edge of the sleeveless silk top she wore, he caressed her shoulder, breathing in the dizzying scent of her. Watching her expression, wary of any sign that he needed to back off, he ran his hand lazily over her shoulder and down, enjoying the feel of silk on skin. Resting his hand against her ribs, he could feel her heart racing under his palm. As fast as his own.

"You know..." Sliding his hand around to the small of her back, he pulled her closer, warm breath against her ear, "This is a motel. There are other rooms."

"Dean…" Reluctantly bringing herself back to reality, she wondered how in the hell she'd ended up pressed so closely against him. And also why he had to be shirtless. And so damn pretty. And he smelled good, Jesus fucking Christ she needed a cold shower. ...and she wasn't the only one. Putting a hand on his chest, feeling his heart drumming against his ribs just as hard as hers was, she somehow managed enough self-control to push him a few inches away. Someone nominate the girl for Sainthood.

"Sorry, I ain't that easy." Closing her eyes, she shook her head, her expression changing to a sardonic smile edged with a hint of regret when she opened them again, "Don't really do the whole casual sex thing. You know, there's a bar down the street where you could try your luck…"

"Skye..." Abruptly turning serious, he reached up and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before letting his fingertips trace the curve of her jaw, tilting her head up to look at him, "You really think that's all this is?"

"I-" The flippant answer she was going to give died on her lips, the sardonic smile fading when she saw the way he was looking at her. Like… Like she mattered. Like she was worth something. ...like he cared.

"I don't know." Sitting up, she let all the sarcasm and humor she used to keep everyone out fall away and just looked at him, letting him see exactly how she was really feeling without trying to hide it, "What do you want, Dean?"

"You." Not quite what he'd originally intended to say but he couldn't answer the vulnerability and fear he saw with anything less than the full truth. Sitting up slowly, he looked down at her, reaching a hand up to caress her cheek with his knuckles, "The issues, the baggage, the insufferable attitude and sarcasm...All of it. I know there's somethin' here, Skyler, and I know you feel it too. I want to see where it could go."

The speed and utter ruthlessness she used to smother the flicker of hope that sparked in her eyes was heartbreakingly telling. There was such a sweet young woman buried under all that humor and bravado, he couldn't stand the idea of not being there to be a bulwark between her and a world that had been trying to break her for as long as she could remember. "...but I was thinkin' we could start with dinner."

Eyes half closed, she leaned into his touch, taking entirely too long to dredge up enough shreds of willpower to shoot him down. Not that she wanted to. God, did she not want to. But… Dammit, she was nothing. Worthless. No, worse than that, she was a goddamn liability. Why in the hell would he possibly be as serious about her as he seemed to be? It didn't make any sense.

"I just-" Pressing her lips firmly together, it took her a second to force herself to say it, "I don't think it's a good idea, Dean."

Because that vague-ass answer was going to deter him.

"Why not?" Taking her hand in his, he pulled her closer, a half-smile tilting up one corner of his lips, "Is it 'cause I've never had a relationship last longer than it took to buy the condoms?"

"Oh, that son of a bitch. I'm gonna shank that lanky-ass motherfucker." Struggling not to smile, half-pissed, half-amused and half-still-trying-to-deal-with-this-conversation. Yes, I know, that makes three halves. Bite me, "He wasn't supposed to tell you that."

"You didn't answer the question." It wasn't hard to notice that she hadn't taken her hand back or moved away, either, "Dinner, that's all I'm askin'. ...I'll even wear a suit."

The ultimate sacrifice. How could she say no to that?

"You're incorrigible, you know that?" Tilting her head she studied their clasped hands before looking back up at him, laughter dancing behind her eyes, "I think-"

The sound of the bathroom door opening interrupted whatever she'd been about to say. Which could possibly maybe have been something along the lines of 'I think we could do dinner.' But of course now we'll never know.

"Saved by the Sasquatch." Gently removing her hand from Dean's grasp, she got to her feet, reminding herself in that moment why exactly Dean Matthew Winchester was a bad idea. A terrible awful horrible fantastic incredibly appealing idea. Wait. Not where she was going with that.

"Fuckin'..." Christ, why couldn't Sam have waited twenty goddamn seconds, "What were you gonna say?"

"Don't remember." Grabbing her bag, she walked by Sam, pausing on her way in to take over the bathroom to look up at the lanky-ass motherfucker she still needed to beat the snot out of, "One, you're a dick. Two, your brother is the devil, and three...you have perfect timing."

"Oh bullshit, you remember everything since the dawn of time. Skye...Skyler…." The click of the bathroom door lock made it pretty clear that she was being stubborn as fuck and he wasn't going to find out. Falling backward onto the bed, Dean grabbed a pillow and stuck it over his face, pressing down hard in a futile effort to suffocate himself. ...before he ended up suffocating both her and his brother.

"So...I think I interrupted something." Raising a brow at his brother, his statement was met with a pillow to the face as Dean sat up and flung the thing unerringly at Sam's head.

"The fuck you did." Sitting up with his feet on the floor, Dean ran a hand through his hair before wiping a hand over his face, "You have the worst timing, dude. Seriously. She was gonna say yes."

"Wait, you actually asked her out?" Tossing his towel onto the bed furthest from the door, Sam dropped down to sit on the edge of it, "And she said…"

"Well, she said no. Uh, then there may have been something about her killing you and then she said I was incorrigible." Frustration and amusement took a second to battle it out in Dean's head, finally ending with amused standing victor, "Then she was about to say yes and you had to walk your freak ass outta the bathroom at the exact wrong time."

"She called you the devil." Laughing, at least on the outside, Sam couldn't help a sigh of purely internal relief that she had turned him down. He still had time to figure shit out before those two got more involved than they already were, "Dude, incorrigible also not a good thing...and why the hell does she want to kill me? What did you do?"

"Yeah, well, she didn't mean it." Getting up to answer the knock on the door that was their Chinese food, Dean paid the man and gave him a decent tip before closing the door to resume the conversation, "It might somehow have come up that you told me what she said about the whole...my past relationships thing."

"Oh, it just somehow came up?" Grabbing the bag from him, Sam glowered at his brother and plunked the overfilled sack down on the table next to his laptop, "Now how did that happen, I wonder."

An innocent smile on his lips, Dean avoided looking at Sam as he got an order of egg rolls, "...no idea."

Three hours later, the pepto-pink and white walls were almost hidden by various pictures, articles and notes as the three intrepid Hunters stuck their noses as far as they could into researching what they were up again. Really, the whole thing was kind of scarily reminiscent of the way they'd found John's room back in Jericho. Only, you know, with less half eaten burgers and more barely repressed sexual tension.

Re-reading the same passage for the third time, Skye felt her eyes starting to cross. If she ever got her hands on the guy that wrote this convoluted mess of wannabe prose, she'd cheerfully shoot him in the head. Course judging by the age of the book, he was likely already dead. Rubbing her eyes, she looked up at the two others that occupied the increasingly cluttered space. Sam typing away at his laptop and Dean sitting on the other bed surrounded by just as many books and notes as she was. And she'd once thought the man didn't read.

Leaning back against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him, Dean looked up from his own convoluted book of nonsense in time to watch Skye stand up and stretch, hands clasped high over her head. Watched the tank-top she wore ride up to reveal a flat stomach and smooth skin that he knew, in his admittedly limited experience, was every bit as soft as it looked.

"Alright." Snapping the book closed, he tossed it onto the pile next to him and got to his feet, reciting useless bullshit in his head to keep his mind off of other things, "I need a coffee run. Guys?"

Mostly he just needed to get out of this room and away from her for a minute to get a little air and keep his head from double entendre intended...hehehe.

"That would be great." Raising his eyes from his computer screen, Sam gave his brother a tight smile, "Like six of 'em."

He was only half joking.

"Espresso in a big gulp, gotcha." Sitting on the edge of the bed to pull on his boots, he looked up at the tiny tired teen who was currently standing with her back to the wall, bending in a way that shouldn't be humanly possible, "Skye, when you're done breakin' your spine, you want caffeine?"

"Yes, please." Straightening, she crossed her arms, a strained smile mixing with a self-deprecating expression that left no ambiguity to her words, "Just ...feelin' a little tense."

"I wonder why." Not looking up, Sam couldn't help popping off, more as a knee-jerk reaction than because he really wanted to add his two cents.

"Eat me, blowhard."

"Hey, if you're ta-"

"Winchester." Snapping her head around to glare at the eldest of the two assholes she was sharing a room with, she raised a warning finger in his direction, "So help me God, if you finish that sentence, I will not be responsible for how many pieces they find your body in."

"Aww, Tinkerbell's showin' teeth." Shrugging his jacket on over a black t-shirt and his blue button-up, he grabbed the keys out of his pocket, smart enough to head for the door before he finished his thought, "I wonder if her bite's as good as her bark."

Laughing, he ducked out the door a few seconds before a book slammed into it right about where his head had been.

Rubbing tired eyes, she started to return to the stupid book she'd been going through when Sam got her attention. Leaning back in his chair, he looked at her over the top of his computer, "Were you really about to say yes?"

Rubbing the back of her neck, she tried to keep a grin off her face and failed, looking over at Sam from under her lashes, "...it's not outside the realm of possibility."

Putting a foot on the chair next to him, he pushed it out in silent invitation for her to join him, "So why don't you?"

"Sam, has anyone ever told you you're an interfering old woman?" Picking up the book off the floor from in front of the door, she crossed over to sit in the offered chair, tossing the book onto the table, "You know why. You told him why. Which, still a dick move, bro."

"Uh-huh." Managing a smile, he closed his laptop and moved it out of the way, crossing his arms on the tabletop and looking at her. He wasn't actually trying to interfere, still at war with himself over the possibility that she wasn't as innocent as she seemed. He didn't want to encourage whatever was growing between the two of them in case she was some sort of wolf in sheep's clothing, but he didn't want to discourage it either because… Well, what if she was exactly what she appeared to be? Hell, even without Dean as a factor, he liked the girl. She was the best friend he had and he was desperately hoping that prickling suspicion in the back of his mind was dead wrong. In the meantime, he was trying to act as normally as possible and it wasn't easy.

"So tell me again, why aren't you dating yet?" Leaning back in his chair, he studied her, picking up on the subtle cues she showed when she was as close to relaxed as she ever got, "...you're scared."

Opening her mouth to deny it, she closed it again and didn't say anything for long enough that Sam thought maybe he'd lost his shot at the conversation.

"...yup." Raising a hand in an endearingly helpless gesture, she let it drop back into her lap, looking up at Sam with brown eyes that just looked totally lost, "I'm fuckin' terrified."

Okay. He'd been expecting her to play it off, to make a joke or roll her eyes and was taken by surprise when she didn't. He could count the number of times he'd had a conversation with the real Skye on one hand and he hadn't really expected this to be one of them.

"Why?"The girl had faced down a Wendigo without blinking and a homicidal ghost with barely a twitch...and she was scared to go out with his brother? A simple question with a complicated answer.

"There's...there's a lot you guys don't know about me, Sam. I mean, fucks sake, we've known each other for what? Two months? This whole situation is ridiculous." Sitting up straight, she pulled a knee up to her chest and wrapped her arms around her leg, chin on her knee as she looked at him She fell quiet again and Sam had the good sense not to say anything, knowing she wasn't done with whatever had been rolling around in her brain. Closing her eyes, between one heartbeat and the next, she went from sounding pretty self-assured to sounding like the socially inept teenager she really was "What if he learns something about me he doesn't like? What if he changes his mind? Hell, what if I just suck in bed and he gets bored? And I'm just-I don't think I could handle that."

"Skyler." Leaning forward with his arms on his knees, he stared at her intensely before asking the question that he was pretty damn sure he already knew the answer to. If he was going to ask, now was definitely the time, "Are you in love with my brother?"

"Seriously? What the hell, man..." Letting her foot drop to the floor, she gave a half-hearted attempt at a mental retreat, trying to blow it off. It was getting harder to do. The more she let Dean in, the harder it was to keep everything else out. That alone was terrifying. Wrapping her arms around herself, she gave up trying. Fuck it. YOLO or some shit, right? "Yes."

Weird how one word can convey so much more than just three letters are ever supposed to encompass. In this case it was 'hopelessly, desperately head over heels'. Because that's a surprise to no one.

Watching her, Sam would swear right then that she was being completely honest, one of the few times in her life she had ever been. As of that moment, he was willing to bet his life she was exactly what she seemed to be. He just wasn't sure if he was ready to bet Dean's.

"How long?" Smiling, Sam relaxed more than he had in the last couple of days. He was like 95% sure. He'd make some phone calls, of course, and keep looking into her but for now he'd at least be able to act normally around her.

And if worse came to worst...he'd kill her. If he could.

"How long have I been ...or when did I realize because two different questions." Laying her chin on her crossed arms on the table top, she laughed, blinking rapidly to clear eyes gone bright with tears she wouldn't shed. Big girls don't cry. Sounding as awkward as any normal teen girl discussing the guy she was interested in, she stifled a nervous giggle. Big girls didn't fucking giggle either, "I don't know when, exactly, it...But uh, I knew when the Wendigo took him. When he disappeared, I'd never been more terrified in my life and when I saw him hanging up in the mine...I don't know why I'm telling you this, I'm still mad at you for opening your big mouth about the last shit I told you."

"You're telling me 'cause you love me, too." Grinning at her, he shook his head, "Just not in the same way."

"Duh. You're like the obnoxious older brother I never knew I wanted until I got stuck with him." Scrubbing the heels of her hands in her eyes, she took a deep breath, not at all used to any kind of emotionally open conversation, and here she'd had two in one day. Talk about personal growth. She wasn't sure she liked it. Being a person was exhausting.

"Aww, Midget, that may be the nicest thing you've ever said to me." Reaching a freakishly long arm over, he mussed her hair, earning a death glare, "It's okay, I love you too."

Unlike some people, Sam never had a problem admitting that kind of thing. Definitely the more psychologically stable member of the family. ...which isn't saying much. Suspicions or no suspicions, he did love the girl. He'd always been the little brother, being the older one was kind of nice. It would suck beyond words if this ended badly.

"So now you know and all and uh-" Biting her lip, she crossed her legs and leaned back in the chair, foot tapping the air in a beat only she was aware of, "I don't-I don't know-."

Okay, give the girl a break. She'd never done this before.

"Skyler?" Laughing softly, he shook his head, dark hair falling in his eyes. For once, they both looked like a couple of typical kids, "Are you trying to ask for advice?"

"...and failing miserably, help me out, Sammy, Jesus." Sliding down in her chair, she let her arms fall limply by her sides and gave puppy-dog eyes her best shot, "I can't do this kinda thing. What the hell are relationships even like? Not to mention I've never-Dean's already as physical as I've ever been with anyone and I haven't….Oh for the love of God, this is stupid. How do people do this shit?"

"Well, most other people are fully functioning adults with at least a semi-stable background. You're a nutjob with the extreme version of Mommy Dearest." Yup, there was the expected middle finger as she flipped him off, "Are you really sure you want a relationship, Skye?"

"You remember back in Jericho when we were in your Dad's motel room and I said there was no such thing as a stupid question? I lied."

"Oh there's the brat, I was getting worried." Rolling his eyes at the tongue-in-cheek answer he stretched his legs out in front of him, shaking his head, "Well then, you'll be fine. I don't think he's expecting anything except for you to just be you. I mean, I don't see the appeal of such a mouthy little snot but then, he's had more head injuries."

"You're as brainy as Kurt Cobain's garage ceiling." Tapping her fingers on the arm of the chair, she chewed the inside of her cheek, "What about the other thing, Sam?"

"Funny, you're the one always shooting your mouth off." Ooo. Good comeback. Ten points to Gryffindor. "What other thing?"

"The whole physical part of it, you dope." Getting up to grab a beer, only because there was nothing stronger, she sat her ass back down and took a long drink before setting the now half-empty bottle on table, "I mean, I've never even kissed anyone. Okay, not entirely true, I kissed Grandma on the cheek like twice but I'm pretty sure that doesn't count."

"Yeah, I don't think you have anything to worry about there." Shuddering in exaggerated disgust, Sam looked convincingly grossed out, "I've seen you two together and...just follow your instincts or let him take over or whatever, you'll be fine. Take a health class, I'm not giving instructions."

"That's it, I'm done talkin' to you." Beer in hand, she turned sideways in her chair with one leg draped over the arm, the serious part of their discussion very much over, "Forever."

"Oh God, if only." Sitting back down, he pulled his chair to the table and pulled his laptop back over, flipping it open, "Then I might finally get some peace around here."

"I'd go Stephen Hawking, only the voice would sound like Fran Drescher." Looking over as the motel room door opened, she smiled wryly, "And look, there's Mr. Sheffield now."

"Did you just watch all of the TV as a kid?"

"Yup, just about." Setting her empty beer on the table, she slid out of her seat and went to give Dean a hand juggling coffee, "And movies and books. I had a lot of time on my hands."

"You ever get the feeling you missed something?" Closing the door behind him, he handed Skye her coffee when she met him at the door, "You guys find anything?"

"Because you did." Grabbing Sammy's cup from Dean, she took it over to him and offered it to him, "Niles and I were just discussin' life, the universe, and everything."

"Turns out, the answer is 42." Taking the cup from her, Niles grinned, "Thanks."

"Are you guys speakin' nerd again?" Setting his cup on the table, Dean took off his jacket and threw it over the back of Skye's chair, "And why are you thankin' her? I'm the one that got the coffee. Where's my thanks?"

Rocking back on her heels, Skye looked at Dean speculatively before walking over and looking up at him.

"What? Why are you lookin' at me like that?"

Eyeing her suspiciously, he was completely floored when she grabbed the collar of his shirt and stood on her toes, brushing a kiss against his cheek before letting go and taking a step back, "Thanks for the coffee, Winchester."

Oh, he had definitely missed something.

"What-what…" Clearing his throat, he went another direction entirely, giving himself a second to process, "You guys find anything?"

"Uh yeah, right after you left." Well it had been more like as he was leaving and getting things thrown at him.

That was news to Skye. Pulling a chair up next to hers, Dean took a seat and gestured for Sam to get on with it.

"So every religion and every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right?" Turning his computer screen halfway so the others could see it, Sam leaned back in his chair, the look on his face announcing whatever he'd found wasn't good, "Christian, Native American, Hindu...you name it."

"Yeah." Giving Skye a sideways look, he raised a brow at her when she tucked her hand into his, a half-smile curving his lips. She wasn't usually the one to initiate any kind of contact, though she never pulled away when he did. Oh, he was so going to grill Sammy later. Giving his attention back to his brother, he continued the thought, "But none of them describe anything like this."

"Well, that's not exactly true." Rolling his eyes at the them, he tapped the computer screen, "According to Japanese beliefs, certain demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One causes earthquakes, another causes diseases, and so on."

Leaning forward, Skye was more than a little concerned, "And this one causes plane crashes?"

Well, that was utterly horrifying.

"So what, we got a demon that's evolved with the times?" Heel tapping on the floor like he wanted to pace the floor but didn't want to get up, Dean found the idea enough to make him feel a little sick. He'd seen a lot in his twenty-six years, but this? "Found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Okay, so...raise your hand if that freaks you right the fuck out?" Raising her free hand, she glanced at the boys, nodding as they shrugged and raised theirs too, "Oh good, just didn't wanna be the only one."

"Who knows how many planes its brought down before this one."

"I don't know guys." Running a hand through his hair, Dean leaned forward in his seat and rubbed the back of his neck, a humorless chuckle escaping before he took a firm hold of his nerves, "This isn't our normal gig. I mean...demons? They don't want anything but death and destruction for its own sake. This is big. I just-I wish Dad was here."

"Yeah." Running a hand through his own shaggy hair, Sam had to agree. This felt a little above their pay grade, "Me too."

The boys looked at Skye as if expecting a comment of some sort. Rolling her eyes to the ceiling, she sighed, "What? You know, I'm startin' to think I have a reputation. I do occasionally know when to keep my mouth shut. I was thinkin' this was one a those times but you assholes went and ruined it."

Actually, she wouldn't mind having John around for this one either. Did she like the man? Fuck no. Did he know a lot more than they did about this kind of thing? Yes. Yes, he did. She'd have to be a total backbirth not to realize that.

"Look at that, Sammy, she might be developing a filter after all." Digging into his pocket, Dean pulled out his ringing phone, flipping it open and putting it to his ear, "Hello?"

"Bite me, Winchester."

"Dean, it's Jerry."

"Pick a spot, Tinkerbell." Smirking he shushed her, getting an obscene gesture in response, "Sorry about that, what's up, Jerry?"

"My pilot friend...Chuck Lambert is dead."

"Wha-" The immediate shift in Dean's manner got the attention of the other two real damn quick, "I'm sorry, what happened?"

"He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down."

"Where?" Gesturing to Skye, he mimed writing something down, his attention on Jerry, "What's the address?"

Retrieving her tactical pen from her jacket, she grabbed the cheap ass motel stationary and handed them over before sitting down on the end of the bed to pull on her boots and grab her jacket. From the sound of it, they were headed out, and soon.

" Little place about sixty miles west of here, 1720 Briarwood, just outside of Nazareth."

"Well I'll try to ignore the irony in that." Waving away questioning looks, he motioned that he'd explain in a second before rubbing at his temple.

It was going to be a long day, he could feel it.

"I'm sorry?"

"Nothin', Jerry. Nevermind. Hang in there, alright. We'll catch up with you soon." Flipping his phone closed, he stuffed it back in his pocket before spinning a finger in the air and pointing toward the door, "Round up, we gotta go. There's been another crash."

"Where?" Grabbing his jacket, Sam closed his laptop and stuffed into his bag.

"Nazareth." Grabbing his keys, he headed for the door, knowing they'd be right behind him. If there was one thing they were good at, it was bugging out in a hurry.

"...yeah, that irony you were ignoring is jumpin' up and down, screamin' like a pre-teen at a Backstreet Boys concert."

Holding the door for her, Dean shook his head at her as she walked by, "Baby, you got a way with words."

Hands in her jacket pockets, she turned slowly on a heel and looked up at him, …"Did you just call me baby?"

Blinking, he had to take a second to think about it before he made a face, "Psh, what? No. ...get in the car."

Hand to God, he hadn't realized it'd slipped till she called him on it, it just popped out.

Laughter drifted out from the back of the Impala. Neither of them had a chance to say anything before the jackass in the backseat raised his hand, "I know, I know. 'Shut up, Sammy.'"