"So, Dean…do you really care about her?"
"Sam…But I don't want to rush things, you know? What she did yesterday…she's not going to just be better. Snap out of it. And I don't want to be the reason that she'd try it again. I'd rather be the reason why she never tries it again…I don't know. And it's weird. This isn't like Cassie because Abby knows everything. I don't have to hide my life from her because she's part of it; she accepts it. But why the hell am I talking about this with you? I'm turning into a pansy! God, I hate all this mushy, feely crap," he said, shaking the uncomfortable feelings off his shoulders as he paced. Dean strode over to the fridge to grab a beer.
"No, I get it, Dean," he chuckled at his brother. "I just really hope you're not just leading her on because…"
Just then, Abby burst through the front door and ran them, clearly out of breathe.
"What's wrong," Dean asked as he rushed to her side.
"First," she said between panted inhales. "This." She handed him a pink piece of paper.
"A dance," Sam asked, reading the text over Dean's shoulder.
"A dance AT The King's Inn. That's our ticket to get in there tonight. Go to the dance, get lost in there, and hide until everyone leaves. Then we can get a hold of that mirror. It's perfect."
"That's a good plan. But that doesn't explain why are you shaking," Dean said, holding her shoulders steady.
Abby told them of the disembodied voice she heard call her name repeatedly while she was in the city.
"There's something going on. Some sort of power. It's strange. It's something I've never quite felt before."
"So, weird new powers heighten your shopping senses," Dean joked, pointing down to her parcels. "What's in the bags?"
"Costumes."
"For?"
"You two. It's a colonial themed party tonight. I thought maybe you'd two could be my dates."
Dean looked down at his costume in disgust.
"I'm NOT freakin' wearing this," he yelled from his room. He held up the colonial suit with ascot in front of the mirror.
"Why not," she called from her room, where she had barricaded herself in an hour before to get ready.
"Because I'll look like a tool!"
Sam laughed from the his room wear he was busy changing.
"What about you, Sam," she called.
"It's a costume party…I say why not," Sam laughed, knowing Dean would be pissed that he caved on their joint plan to not wear the stupid costumes.
"Thanks for bailing on me, Sammy!"
"Not a problem, Dean!"
"Fine! Dean, just where a suit or something, ok? There's some of James' old clothes in the closet in there. I'm sure there's a tux or suitable formal attire."
Dean sorted through the clothes and found a sharp looking black suit with black tie and a white shirt.
'Thank you, James, for having some style.'
He put it on, still feeling like a tool, but noting that he looked damn good.
He opened the door and went into the living room. Dean doubled over with laughter as he took one look at Sam.
"Shut up, Dean," Sam said as he straightened his long navy jacket and smoothed out his breeches.
"Oh man, that's some funny shit right there," he laughed, pointing at his younger brother. "What, did you rob the Quaker Oats guy and steal his clothes?!"
Sam rolled his eyes.
"Stop it, Dean. At least he put it on. Besides, I think he looks quite handsome."
He turned towards the voice and he could swear his heart stopped when he saw her.
She was dressed in a colonial style blue and green fabric gown. The gown looked old, original, and she had obviously kept it in perfect condition. Her hair was down in waves and she wore only a little makeup. Abby straightened out the ruffles on her shelves and made her way over to them. He could only stare, surprised that he would find her so attractive in that particular outfit. He'd always thought chicks in the olden days were boring, tired, but now he understood why they could be somewhat erotic; the gowns left almost everything to the imagination. He, however, knew every inch of her underneath it. If Sam wasn't in the same room, he would have starting undressing her at that very spot.
"So, how do I look," she asked as she twirled around, her big skirt billowing.
"You look…," Sam started.
"Beautiful," Dean interrupted.
"Thank you," she said as he offered her his arm. He flashed her one of his adorable smiles.
Music filled the air as they left the Impala and walked up the steps to the house. The room was filled with people, some dressed in colonial attire and some just dressed formally. She entered the room on Sam's arm, hoping to make him feel more comfortable for dressing in the ridiculous costume. Although, she had to admit, he wore it well and could have passed himself off as a wealthy gentleman of the time.
Not surprisingly, Dean immediately went to find the punch and food.
Abby smiled as she caught Pedro and Marguerite's attention and led Sam over to them.
"Abby," Marguerite exclaimed, taking her into her arms.
"Marguerite, oh how I've missed you," she said, pulling back and grabbing Sam's arm. "Pedro, Marguerite, this is Sam. And over there, that human garbage disposal is Dean. They're my friends."
"Sam, this is Marguerite and Pedro. I've known them since I first lived in St. Augustine."
"So they're…," Sam started.
"Oh just distant relatives," Marguerite started nervously, obviously doing damage control.
"Yes, Sam," she said before turning to Marguerite. "They know. Believe me, they know a lot more than most, but they're not a danger to us."
"Oh," Marguerite said surprised. "Pleasure to meet you, Sam. I hope St. Augustine has showed you all it's hospitality."
"It's been very nice here, mam'."
The music changed from a fast paced song, making the colors of the dresses flow through the candle lit room into a slow, intimate ballad.
"Want to dance," she asked Sam. She almost laughed when Sam swallowed nervously. "Come on, Sam. It's just a slow song. Nothing too complicated."
"Sure," he said as he was already being pulled out onto the dance floor. He put his arm around her waist and took her hand with his. They swayed slowly to the beat, keeping some distance from each other and probably looked like a young couple nervously having their very first dance. As they spun slowly, she caught Dean's gaze. She didn't have to read his mind, only his face, to know that he was slightly jealous. She smiled at him causing him to flash one back. He put down his plate of hors d'oeuvres and walked towards his brother.
"Move over, Sammy. It's my turn," he said, tapping him on the shoulder. Sam reluctantly let go of Abby, but smiled as his brother cut in.
"Have fun," he said to them.
Where Sam and Abby had danced like nervous kids, Dean and Abby danced as familiar lovers. He wrapped his arm around her waist much like Sam, but he pulled her close, pressing her fully against him. He took her hand in his but held their arms close to their bodies, occasionally stroking his thumb over the back of her hand lovingly. She could have sank into his green eyes as she danced. She never realized how damn good he would look in a suit. It was almost a sin to look the way he did that night.
Abby found her face moving nearer and nearer to his as they danced, their lips dangerously close.
"You look absolutely beautiful tonight, Abby," he whispered, his warm breathe against her lips.
"Thank you," she whispered breathy, taking a nervous gulp. "And you look very handsome. Would it be rude of me to suggest that I'd like to see you out of the suit right now?"
"Naw. I was thinking the same thing…except for the suit part," he smiled, leading her around the dance floor.
She smirked and moved in a millimeter, their lips almost touching. The song stopped. The crowd on the floor parted and drifted off, leaving them alone. Dean pulled back and straightened up, leading her off the floor.
They stood together, their hands touching, as the chairman of the dance announced they were going to do a traditional minuet to go with the theme. She smiled, knowing it was going to be cake.
"Wanna try it," she asked Dean, already knowing his answer. His mind was screaming NO.
She looked to see Pedro and Marguerite already on the floor. Pedro looked dazzling. His pale skin was in deep contrast to the green suit and powered wing, which hid his black hair. Marguerite's red hair cascaded loosely down her back, looking particularly radiant against her lavender dress. Her green eyes sparkled lovingly into her husband's blue. They motioned for Abby to join them on the floor. She gave Dean's hand a quick squeeze and headed out to them.
She was in the middle of the dance floor when he approached, dressed in traditional colonial attire. The stranger took her hand and kissed it.
"Would the lovely lady do me the honor of a dance?"
She looked at him, at Dean, and at Sam. Two out of three weren't going to dance.
"I'd be delighted," she said in the typical response.
He took her hand as they started the music. They had instructors there to help the normal people who had never minueted before. Pedro and Marguerite and herself, along with her new partner, spun circles around them on the floor. It was funny seeing her dancing in such a way, but it seemed almost second nature to her. She knew the footwork, the spins, and her partner matched hers to perfection. They gracefully moved, holding hands, and twirling across the floor effortlessly.
The young stranger kept his attention solely on Abby, making pleasant conversation as they danced. At least Dean hoped it was pleasant. If he wasn't, he was going to drag the guy off the floor and beat the shit out of him.
He watched as she politely smiled at him as the young man rubbed her wrists in his hand. The song ended, and Dean's skin turned on fire as the young man gave her a devilish grin and briefly kissed her lips.
'That's it,' Dean thought as approached the couple.
He pushed past the applauding spectators and put his hands on Abby's shoulders. She placed a hand on one of his, already knowing who would be there.
"Maybe we'll meet again," he said, taking a step back and polite fully bowing in conjunction with the time period theme.
"Perhaps," she said as she curtsied.
"Until then," he said as he walked away, leaving the party.
"Dean, you can stop squeezing my shoulders now. I think he got the message. By the way, what is the message," she asked, turning to look at him with a wicked grin.
He smiled blushing, embarrassed by his over protectiveness. Hell, she could have broken the guy in half right there.
"I don't think he meant any harm by the kiss. Strange though…"
"What," Dean asked puzzled.
"Nothing. Don't worry about it," she shrugged.
"Come on," he said, taking her by the hand. "We should really get ourselves hidden while the party is still jumpin."
They snuck up the stairs and hid in the shadows of the third floor hallways. Sam was already there with some weapons hidden in his long colonial coat. They waited as the party slowly dispersed below.
When the coast seemed clear, they made their way up to the fourth floor to check out the mirror in the apartment.
As Dean picked the lock, a scream came from the apartment below.
