So Dean doesn't like witches.. bummer! Oh well, missed that memo. Was anyone else getting the 'Ruby was Mary' vibe, or was that just me? Hope not, but I'm still trying to figure out how she knew YED.. Anyway, great episode. Next week looks pretty good too, but if you start to suspect I'm stealing scripts, remember I wrote this way back when.

In case you missed the warning to Stand-in-girl, Dean's about to get.. 'spontaneous'. You're either cringing, rolling your eyes, or smiling in curiosity, but whatever reaction, I hope these next two chapters don't scare you guys away. This change is purely temporary. In a few posts' time, he'll be back to his usual self. No foreshadowing there, I ..promise :P

laughandlove - Dean is a fun character to explore, and writing from his POV is just plain fun. I've worked hard trying to get into his head, so I really appreciate that last review. And, wow, another favorite chapter? I must be doing something right, because that's two :) I hope i can keep them coming.

Shaz - A scream? I'm so honored. I'll be honest, I'm just as addicted to the feedback. I do a happy little jittery dance when read the reviews.. Well, anyway, I hope this chapter answers your questions :)

Enjoy!
I didn't know what time I'd gotten back to the motel, and I didn't care to know either. I just got back when I did, and that was that. End of story, no questions asked.

Seriously. I'm not kidding—I was surprised too.

Sam was unusually antisocial, for Sam, at least. He really didn't seem to care much about anything. Me ditching him again, me ignoring his calls all day, or even me being back. It was great. He just sat on his bed. Quiet. It was weird. I mean, usually he'd... Well, it's not really important, and I'm sure you got the picture by now. He's a killjoy. But, tonight, he let me be, which was nice.

He did try to get inside my head a few times, though. Stared at me. Asked me how my day was or if I was ready to leave town yet. Don't know what I had said in return, because I really wasn't paying much attention to him in the first place. I'm not even sure if those were the questions he'd asked, but they do seem to be very Sam-like questions, so he must have asked them at some point—right?

Well, he must have caught on, because he eventually stopped trying. That was good too, because I had bigger things on my mind. Important things. The same stuff I'd been thinking about all night. I hadn't changed my mind, I'd convinced myself. I was done.

Hunting—not thinking, obviously. I couldn't stop thinking, especially not now—when so much planning had to be done. I was convinced I was ready to quit hunting. Once and for all, and that that night was to be the last night I would ever spend on a motel bed. I realized that it was an unrealistic thought. I mean, I couldn't just snap my fingers and have a place to call home, I knew that. I also knew that I couldn't really guarantee the motel bed thing—I can't even guarantee what socks I'll be wearing tomorrow, or even if I'd have socks tomorrow—how can I say I'd never sleep in a motel again?

Still, it was the idea behind it—the idea that we'd stop demon hunting and start house-hunting, or something.

Damn I needed another beer. What was I thinking?

Demons. Hunting. Could I really walk away? Could Sam? He hadn't been willing to before, why would he be now? He'd just say we were responsible, for everything. I was sick and tired of it. I told him that before, I think, but man was I sick of it now.

"The world may never know." I said aloud.

Sam looked at me from across the room. I was surprised he was still awake. "What?"

"The world may never know… Who wrote that? Hemmingway? Or something?"

"Not quite." He said sounding amused.

I just snapped. "What??"

"Hemmingway?" He shook his head, "Dean? That's the logo for the Tootsie pop?"

"No its not!" I laughed, but he just laughed right back at me. Like I'd lost my mind.

"Yeah, it is." He laughed again. "How many licks does it take to get to the center of a Tootsie pop?"

His voice then changed. Intentionally, I think, as he counted to three. He must have been mocking me, because he was trying to sound all noble and sophisticated.

Just sounded stupid to me.

"Three? That's it?" I snorted.

He just shook his head. Did I miss something?

"Sam, it takes more than three licks, okay? It just has to."

"Forget it, Dean."

"No, seriously. Is that really possible? Aren't those those big suckers? The ones with the candy in the middle? Three licks? That's it?"

"That's the point!! 'The world may never know!' The owl bites it after the third lick—'how many licks—the world may never know'."

"Dude, are you sure? Wasn't it Shakesbeer?" I grinned, but he just stopped talking to me at that point.

Either he was too tired to argue, or I was too drunk to argue with, but whatever his problem was I didn't care.

We were staying in town, because I was determined to find out three things: whether or not the two of us could really settle down, who'd written the mysterious proverb, and how many licks it really did take to get that damn candy.