Dean turned the shower off and stepped out onto the thin floor mat, dripping. A million scenarios rushed through his head as he dried himself off with a towel, the main one was how not to use Rachel as bait for the spirit.

Jack The Fucking Ripper? He thought to himself, his brain still buzzing with all the information his brother had fed them less than an hour ago. As he pulled on his most comfortable jeans Rachel's voice swam in his head. Saying that she was going to be his bait.

He'd be damned if he let that happen. But he wasn't sure how to stop her She was a hunter in her own right, not his to protect and save. She'd remind him of that if he protested.

Why does this bother you so much? He asked himself as he pulled a light T-shirt over his head and caught his reflection in the mirror. It was a good plan, the only one that they had, but the thought of her in harms way like that didn't sit right with him.

His brain tired, he let go of all the thoughts that he had no answer to and walked out of the bathroom, more aware of his own exhaustion than at anytime before. He saw Rachel sitting at the laptop by the window glance up at him and bring her finger to her lips in a 'Shhh-ing' motion then point to Sam's bed.

He looked over to the bed closest to him and saw Sam laying on the mattress breathing the slow, even breath of sleep. His lips slightly parted and a flop of his brown hair covering one closed eye.

Dean envied him so much, at 7:30 am, it was now almost a full 24 hours since Dean had been awake. And that 24 hours was filled with mind draining events such as Rachel being attacked, finding 2 dead bodies and solving the century old question of who Jack The Ripper was. How he had not dropped to the floor cold yet was beyond him.

Crossing over to his own bed, he sat facing Rachel and immediately saw the bags under her own eyes telling of her own weariness.

"You should get some sleep." He whispered to her.

"Yeah, I know." She said in a whisper of her own. "I wish I had the strength for a shower too, but I'm afraid that I might collapse in the stall and drown in the spray."

They laughed quietly before she went on.

"I'm going upstairs in a sec, I just wanted to get another look at this guy." She said as she began to pull her long hair into her hands at the back of her head and pull a hair band over it to secure a pony tail.

Dean watched the simple act in fascination. Her fingers were long and elegant as they worked the black strands, her wrist delicate and slender as she slipped the band over her hand and manipulated it to secure her hair.

He found himself wondering if her would be able to feel her pulse if he brought that wrist to his mouth. How would her fingers tips taste against his tongue if he were to gently suck on each of them? Would she moan if he did those things? The image sent a shot through his belly and he felt his groin constrict pleasurably.

Then what she had said finally downed on him. She was going upstairs, by herself. Over his dead body with that crazy spirit after her.

"I think you should stay here." He said. "Separating isn't a good idea."

"I'm exhausted, Dean." She said. "I need to get some rest."

"He patted the bed under him. "You can lay here."

"No. That's your bed and you look like your a zombie as it is." She said. "You lay there, I'm going up to my room with 2 beds to choose from."

"Sorry Rach, Not a chance." He said boldly, locking eyes with her when she looked at him with slight shock. "I don't give a damn about him not killing for another week, he came after you once and there's no saying he's going to stick to his schedule, especially after you've pissed him off. We need to stick together and not give him another chance until we figure out what we're going to do."

"Dean, I get what your saying, but we need to sleep and there's just not enough room here." She argued. "That's your bed, I'm not taking it from you. And I'm not getting in bed with Sam no matter how cuddly he looks, I'm just not that kind of girl."

She smiled at him and he realized that she didn't even joke about maybe cuddling up next to him. She had no problem saying it about Sam but the thought was too awkward to say it about him. But then she took it to the next step.

"Unless YOU want to cuddle up with Sam." She said playfully with a smile.

Now Dean smiled and glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping brother, then back to Rachel.

"That looks cuddly to you?" He asked. "Because all I see is gangly arms and legs attached to a certified cover hog."

She laughed again and shut the computer.

"Listen, I agree with you but neither of us in any state to argue now. I'm going upstairs, we'll all get some rest then we'll figure out how we'll all bunk together. I'll be OK for a little while by myself." She said and stood up.

"Fine. Let's go." He said before he could stop himself as he rose to his feet as well.

He loved the wide-eyed expression as she looked up at him.

"You said so your self. There are 2 beds upstairs, one for each of us. We can figure out how to condense later after we've had some sleep." He said.

"So you won't leave me alone, but leaving Sam here by himself is OK?" She asked with a hint of a smile.

He found this the perfect opportunity to play with her.

"Sam is not an Irish stripper. He's an unlikely target." He answered then took notice of the tiny dot of blood leaking through her bandage. "That needs to be changed. C'mon."

She didn't protest any further, they walked to her room in the already blazing Louisiana sun in silence. As they walked up the flight to her room she took the lead and he allowed himself the pleasure of watching her beautifully shaped female bottom sway before his eyes with each step she took. He was disappointed when there where no more stairs to climb.

She let them into her room immediately shut the sunlight out by closing the blinds and the heavy drapes over the window. Dean went to one of the bed side lamps and turned it on, creating a soft glow in the dark room.

He watched as Rachel picked up several items of clothing from the foot of the bed closest to the window and head to the bathroom.

"I'll be right back." She called and disappeared into the bathroom.

Standing alone in her room Dean took a deep breath to calm himself. Now was not the time to turn on the charm and let her know how attracted her was to her just because they were alone in a bed room together. She'd been attacked tonight, they'd lost 2 girls and there case had come to a head. All that besides the fact that she was his partner was enough to tell him to take it easy.

To forget the fact that she boiled his blood and all he wanted to do was grab her by a handful of that beautiful hair, tug her head back and kiss her mouth until her lips swelled against his...He could handle that, right?

Rachel pulled the flannel pajama pants up her legs with her heart pounding in her chest. Letting him come to her room was a big mistake. She told herself to be angry at him when he decided she needed a body guard and tell him that she'd kept herself alive all this time without him and didn't need his help to do it this time, but the thought of him being near instead of her alone in her room clouded her judgment and she had kept her mouth shut and allowed him to flex his muscles and come with her.

God, what beautiful muscles they must be, too. She thought to herself as she began to take her bra off so she could put on her pj tank top, but then thought better of it. Yeah, have your nipples poking out at him. That'll give him the right idea.

She slipped the tank top over her bra and sat on the toilet to slip off her socks as the thought crossed her mind that maybe she wasn't strong enough to keep away from him. She'd already brought him here against her better judgment and knew it would only get worst as time went on. He wanted her, she wanted him. How much longer before she gave up and betrayed her sister's memory?

The sting in her throat brought her back o reality and she stood up to inspect it in the mirror. She saw the red soaking through the white bandage and touched it with her fingertips. which came away sticky. She opened the bathroom door.

"Dean?" She called.

"Yeah?" His deep voice called back to her.

"Would you please bring me the first-aid kit in the black knapsack on the table?" She asked.

She peeled the tape off her skin in the mirror as she heard him shuffling her things to get to the kit. She wiped away some of the leaking blood off the really good bandaging job Sam had done with some toilet paper while she prayed that she didn't have any tampons in that bag he was going through.

He appeared in the door way holding the first-aid kit and peered at the wound in the mirror with her, grimacing.

"Wow. You really did need stitches." He said.

"Yeah." She agreed. "But Sam did a good enough job closing it. So I get a little scar, big deal. Comes with the territory"

She saw his face harden and knew that he was thinking about how much he wanted to get even with old Jack for doing this to her. She had to admit that it felt nice to have someone so angry for her.

"Hand me the kit?" She said as she threw away the toilet paper.

"You won't be able to do that in the mirror. Sit, I'll take care of it." He said.

Knowing he was right and she wouldn't be able to do as good a job on herself she sat on the lid of the toilet and tried not to inhale his scent too deeply as he knelt on the floor in front of her.

She watched as he pulled out cotton balls and peroxide from the kit. Her heart hammered as he leaned in close to her to disinfect the wound. She arched her neck back and felt the soft brush of his fingertips against the sensitive skin of her throat. It took everything she had not to close her eyes and relish the feeling. She needed to do something to get her mind off the very intimate closeness and was about to open her mouth and speak when he beat her to it.

"So. What do you plan to about this Vivian chick you were talking about down stairs?" He asked.

She slanted her eyes to him as he continued to swab the cotton over the cut. Was he talking because he felt the same way?

"I'm going to tell Max she's having sex in the lapdance rooms." She said bluntly.

He threw away a bloody piece of cotton and soaked a new one, turning the corners of his mouth down he nodded. The action made his lips look pouty and kissable.

Get a grip, Rach. She commanded herself.

"That'll get her out of there." He said as he wiped more peroxide over her throat. "What if he doesn't believe you? She has been working for him longer than you have."

"Good point. That's why I was thinking you or Sam could be the guy that got a little extra from her." She said.

He laughed. "Could you imagine Sam trying to convince someone he had sex with a stripper?" He said then put on his best Sam impression. "'I...um...Yeah. I asked her and...um. Then she took her top off and we...um...she did this thing...I liked it...um."

She couldn't help but laugh. She could see poor innocent Sam stumbling on his words like that in such an awkward conversation. Dean laughed too.

"Ooh. Ouch!" She called as a sting went through her skin on her throat. Dean made an apologetic face and sucked in air through his teeth.

"Oh, sorry. Sorry." He said and swiped the cotton slower.

They were silent for a moment and she watched him finish cleaning the blood away. She watched his hazel eyes focus on the cut and couldn't help but wonder how those eyes would look smoky with heat. Her eyes traveled to the stubbly line of his jaw and wondered what it would feel like rasping against her cheek as he kissed her neck. He gaze went lower to the soft flesh of his own throat and the memory of her face being buried there as they danced in the bar came flooding back to her. He had smelled like aftershave. Very potent and male.

Taking in his whole face now as he began to bandage the wound she couldn't believe how handsome he was. His heavily lidded eyes and perfect straight nose, full mouth with the bottom lip just a bit pouty, strong jaw and cheek bones, sexy as all Hell smile. God what she wouldn't do to be able to kiss him just once.

"So what are we going to do?" He asked as he cut tape with his teeth.

"Well, we have to figure out what it is that keeps him here." She answered. Glad for the distraction.

"But that's the problem. The princes body is probably not here. It's probably buried in Buckingham Palace some where. How do we get to it?" He said.

"We don't." She said.

He looked up at her as he cut another piece of the tape.

"We don't?" He asked.

"It's obviously not his body that brought him here." She said. "We won't be able to destroy him, we just have to stop him."

"By figuring out what brought him here?" Dean said. "Sounds like you got it all covered. What the Hell are me and Sam doing here?"

"Don't say that." She said, hoping against her better judgment that he wasn't planning on leaving. "Sam's the one that figured out this whole thing, remember?"

"So then what they Hell am I doing here?" He asked as he began packing the first-aid kit.

She ran her fingers over the new bandage and felt the nice clean lines he'd managed. Looking him in the eyes she gave him her answer.

"Comic relief?" She said as she shrugged he shoulders.

"Bitch." He said.

"And proud of it." She answered back.

Silence then as they looked at eachother, the air thick with attraction and mutual resistance. He was too close, he looked at her too intently, she wanted him too bad.

"I'm gonna fall asleep right here." She said.

She looked away then as if he'd been in a trance and got up slowly.

"Yeah. Let's get some sleep. it's been a long day." He said as he offered her his hand.

She thought better of taking it for a moment but then did in order to not offend him...or let on how much he had her insides shaking at the moment.

She stood up and walked back out into the bed room. It was now slightly cool because he had turned the air up a little.

"That's my bed. You can have that one." She said as she went to the one closer to the window.

"Yeah. Mind if I put the TV on low?" He asked.

"No. Go right ahead." She answered as she pulled the covers back to get into her bed. Very thankful to him that he wasn't going to try anything. She didn't have know if she had the courage to resist. "I'm so tired I could sleep through a hurricane right now."

He fell onto the bed with the remote in his hands.

"Oh, you might wanna fix your bag first." He said motioning to her knapsack on the table. "I think I accidentally spilled out your tampons."

She felt the heat spread in her cheeks first and reminded herself not to let her eyes go wide as she hurried to the bag on the table. Looking inside she was horrified to se that he had indeed spilled out a whole box of SUPER HEAVY FLOW tampons into the bag.

She put them all back into the box as she reminded herself that it was nothing to be ashamed of. She was a girl and girls had to use those things. But she couldn't shake the very teenage feeling of mortification of a crush seeing something he shouldn't.

She finished putting the tampons away and crawled under the covers of her bed with a muffled goodnight. She peeked over at him and saw the him laying on the bed with his legs stretched out before him, crossed at the ankles, one arm behind his head, the remote in the other hand as he watched the soft glow from the TV.

He eyes began to close as she took notice of how long his legs seemed and how the T-shirt lay across his flat belly in the most maddeningly way. She tried not to think about that but instead focused on the fact that she was safe. Safe because he was here. She wasn't sure which thought was scarier. The fact that she wanted him or the fact that he made her feel comfortable and looked after. Both were lonely thoughts that she couldn't afford to think about. Because when this was over she would walk away again and she didn't need to miss any of it.

These where the last thoughts she had before she drifted off to sleep.