Bill entered the room a short time later, carrying two mugs of tea. He was alone, expecting only to find a frightened woman and an injured weakened prisoner. He no idea of the fun Sam was about to have with him.

Sam sat on the floor looking three-quarters dead and clutching at his no-longer injured arm. He had mussed around his hair to conceal the fact the cut above his eyebrow had vanished.

Bill frowned at the whimpering noises his prisoner was making. "Making such a pig's ear out of a flesh wound. I'm disappointed – I thought you were tougher than that."

Sam awkwardly stood up, shivering miserably as he did so. Bill handed him one of the mugs and said "Drop of tea will help." What a dick, Sam thought. As if tea could fix the damage he'd done. Bill looked around for Lara, and assumed she was still in the bathroom. He stuck his head around the wall, and did a double take when he saw she wasn't in there. Sam came too close to laughing out loud at the sight of Bill looking back out into the bedroom and then into the bathroom. He choked it down, turning it into a moan of pain.

Bill came back out and turned to Sam, cheeks flushed red. "Where the fuck is Lara?"

Sam half-closed his eyes in mock delirium. "…who?" he asked.

Bill got up right into Sam's face. "Don't fuck with me…what's going on?"

Sam forced himself to open his eyes, to look around the room in confusion. "…she's right there…"

The moment Bill turned his face away from Sam's to follow his gaze, Sam brought the hot mug of tea straight down hard onto the top of Bill's head. The mug broke, leaving the handle in Sam's hand, which he kept onto to use as an additional tool to then punch Bill in the temple. The scalding liquid ran into Bill's eyes, and blood began to leak from the crack in his head, as well as from the new cut on his temple. Blinded, Bill swung out for Sam with the mug he had carried in for Lara, but Sam had already stepped away from his last position and put a boot hard into Bill's midriff. Bill went down backwards. Sam kicked him in the head, two…three times, until Bill stopped moving.

Sam smiled viciously at the sight of the London gangster bleeding on the floor in front of him. Searching his body, he found his cell phone, gun and a small knife. He put the cell and knife into his trouser pockets, then checked the gun to see if it was loaded. It was, so he kept onto it.

Now what to do with Bill? He wasn't dead, and Sam wasn't about to kill an unconscious human in cold blood. Unwrapping the now unnecessary tie from around his arm - which took a while as Lara had really done a number on the knots, he used it to tie Bill's wrists firmly behind his back.

Gun at the ready, Sam peered his head around the unlocked door. The corridor outside was empty. Slowly, he walked towards the small living room, passing the empty bathroom on his left-hand side. He heard the sounds of a soccer game from the TV ahead of him.

As he rounded the corner, he saw Gavin and Archie watching the game. Archie was mid-pull on a cigarette, and his eyes widened when he noticed Sam standing there. He coughed in surprise, forcing Gavin to look up. Bill's mini-clone leapt to his feet in shock.

"What have you done to my brother?" He asked, as what looked like a psychotic rage began to form behind his eyes.

"Relax, he's alive." Sam said, as he stepped in front of the TV, pulling the plug out of the wall. "Where's the boy? Alfie isn't it?" It felt so good being able to talk without feeling like his lip was going to split in two.

Alfie came out of the small kitchen, waving around a huge carving knife like he was about to hack through jungle undergrowth.

"What are you doing kid?" asked Sam. "Put down the ridiculous knife before you hurt yourself."

Alfie wavered, looking at the two gang bosses in front of him. Gavin wouldn't take his eyes off Sam so Archie spoke up. "It's ok Alf, do what he says."

Alfie looked at Archie with some serious attitude, and threw the knife back into the kitchen behind him.

"Gavin, Archie – sit right back on the couch please." Gavin's muscles were so rigid that Sam could almost hear them crack as he slowly sat down. "Thank you. Alfie – could you come here a moment?"

Archie's eyes narrowed, and he carefully put his cigarette down into the ashtray next to him. "You touch my nephew and you won't walk out of here alive. You hear me?"

Sam ignored him and spoke to Alfie. "Go open the apartment door, then come back." Without taking his gaze from the men in front of him, Sam pulled Bill's cell phone out from his trouser pocket. He held it out to the kid as he returned. "Take this and ring Dean. Put it on speaker."

Alfie took the phone and called up the last number dialed. Everyone heard Dean answer Bill's number with an abrupt 'What?'

"Dean. It's Sam. Get up here now."

Sam looked at Alfie. "Hang up, then go sit with your uncle." Alfie sulkily slouched down next to Archie. He picked up his uncle's cigarette stub and took a pull, before grinding it out moodily.

Something like thirty seconds later, Sam heard frantic footsteps running down the corridor outside the apartment. He looked up to see Dean in the doorway, gun raised in anticipation.

"Cover me." Was all he said to his brother as he walked past him.

Dean stared at the blood soaked into the front of Sam's shirt. Sam didn't even bother to tell him it was ok, that Cas had healed him. Instead he went over to the front door and kicked it closed with enough violence that even Dean flinched.

The guys on the sofa looked at Dean in confusion. "Aren't you supposed to be on a plane right now?"

"Supposed to be." Dean grinned at Sam, but Sam didn't smile back. Instead he went into the bedroom. Bill was still unconscious, so Sam was forced to drag him back into the living room by the ankles. He threw them none too gently on the floor as Bill finally started to rouse. Heavily confused, Bill stared at the scene around him, jerking in surprise at finding his hands bound behind him.

"Hey Bill – you said you were looking forward to meeting Dean." Sam pointed at his brother.

Bills burnt forehead creased further. "The fuck?" was all he could say.

"Hey pal." Dean waved at Bill.

"I just…I just spoke to you…you're in the States…"

"Am I?" He bent forward, almost nose to nose with Bill. "You WISH I was…"

Bill being Bill felt the need to reassert his dominance. "Mate - a word of advice. Make the most of this cause the memory of getting one up on me will be the only thing keeping you warm by the time I'm finished with you…"

Dean stood up, dismissing Bill's bluster. "Where's your girlfriend Sam? She ok?"

Instead of answering his brother, Sam went over to a sideboard and picked up a mix of zip ties and handcuffs. "You need to get these assholes secure." He handed them over and stood back covering Dean until it was done.

"Now this is more civilized, isn't it Bill?" Sam said, as he lowered himself into one of the side chairs and put his feet up onto the coffee table in front of him. "Dean, sit down."

"No I…"

"Dean – I said sit down." Sam said it softly, but the order behind it was unmistakable.

Dean dragged a kitchen chair over and sat at the opposite end of the coffee table, facing his brother.

Bill spoke up again. "What's happening here? Where did the girl go?"

"Lara. Her name is Lara." Sam bit down on his anger. "She's not my girlfriend, I barely even know her. What she is, however, is an innocent woman that you…" he pointed at Bill "and you…" he pointed at Dean "seemed to think was ok to use for your own ends."

"No – wait, I didn't even…"

"SHUT UP DEAN!" Sam couldn't keep the resentment in check anymore. "The necklace of Trish? – That's what you used to find me? That's what Lara had to go through hell for?"

"Sammy you've got this all wrong…" Dean's eyes were desperate as he tried to talk Sam down, but Sam wouldn't listen.

"I don't want to hear it. I don't care what you have to say, and I'm definitely not having this conversation in front of them." He turned to the guys. "All I want to know is if there is actually a buyer and who he is."

Condescension dripped from Bill's voice. "What do you mean, if there's a buyer? Why else would we all be here otherwise? We don't do this for fun sunshine, this is our job…"

"If this is what you do professionally then I'm amazed you're still breathing. I've met corpses that are more competent than you. And, by the way – that's not just a figure of speech. Who kidnaps someone without the faintest idea of who they are? Who takes on a job, and doesn't even think about who might have hired the buyer? No, you're nothing but jumped up muscle without a single brain cell between you."

Gavin couldn't contain his psychotic rage any longer and ran head first at Sam. "SIT THE FUCK BACK DOWN!" Sam yelled, as he cracked him on the forehead with the butt of his gun when he got too close. Then had to do it again, as the first smack had no effect. Even bound with zip ties, Gavin almost got the better of Sam until Dean intervened and shoved the screaming lunatic back onto the couch, holding him down and punching him until he finally quit struggling. None of the other guys intervened, they just shuffled away as best as they could from Gavin's flailing tantrum.

Having narrowly avoided being bitten on the face by the crazed thug, Dean had also had enough of the circus. "The buyer's name is Keith Haversham. Sir Keith Haversham."

Bill looked bewildered. "Who?" He was batting so far out of his league it was almost pitiful

Dean snorted in derision. "You didn't even try to find out who you were working for?" He turned to Sam. "He works for the Ministry of Defense as some kind of under-secretary. He's also the last British Man of Letters left alive. Probably."

"And what…you hired him to kidnap me? Again? After everything I went through last time?"

"No Sammy it's not like that: I didn't hire him to kidnap you. I didn't hire him at all!" Sam went to turn away, but Dean took his arm and forced him back round to face him. "LISTEN to me, you stubborn son of a bitch! I put word around that I was in possession of a necklace with some serious magical properties. Real proper hoodoo. It was just meant to flush the bastard out so I could take him down before he killed you. I thought I had everything under control but without me knowing he must have hired these morons to take you as a bargaining chip."

"Cas – is this true?" No one else had noticed Cas standing just outside the small kitchen.

Dean jumped and turned around to his friend. "Tell him Cas – this was never supposed to happen!"

"It's true Sam." He stepped forwards. "Since you left us we have been working tirelessly to root out the remaining BMOL." He did the hand quotes thing that Dean had told him about months before. "Many of them sought revenge on you for the deaths of their colleagues two months ago. We've been steadily removing them from your path for weeks."

"Did you never wonder, Sammy, why no one ever came after you? Why you could stay in London and go about your new life…" (Dean said this with no small tone of disgust) "…without anyone bothering you?"

"I…what?" Sam thoughts were in chaos. "I thought…"

"You thought what…that you could live right under their noses and they would be ok with that? Me and mom killed their best and brightest underneath that hotel, Ketch…Davies, Bevell. And afterwards you walked around on empty streets and rode on public busses - unarmed, unaware, like you were inviting them to take you out."

Empty streets and busses? "Have you been following me? You've been in London all this time?"

Cas nodded, ashamed at the deception. Dean stared forwards, defiant.

Sam was infuriated: their dedication to keeping him safe whilst at the same time ignoring his wishes conflicted the shit out of him.

He held up a hand. Two. He needed a time-out to think things through. Fleeing into the kitchen to get some space, the very last thing he expected was to collide with Lara, who was standing just inside the kitchen door. He jumped at the sudden shock of plowing into her, and grabbed her to keep them both upright.

"Shit sorry Sam!" Her broken nose was fixed and she had changed out of her stained office clothes into a t-shirt and jeans. "Castiel said the situation was under control and that I'd be safe. I had to come back and see if you were ok…"

"He shouldn't have done that!" His heart raced at the unanticipated sight of her.

"Oh thanks!" She said sarcastically.

"I meant – it's not totally safe here yet. There's still a lot of shit happening…"

"I know, I heard. And I'm ok Sam. Really." She reached out and cupped a hand to his cheek, her fingers like cool silk against hot skin. He was lost: in the feel of her, at her wanting to come back to see him. It took the sudden sound of a gunshot coming from the living room to bring him back to reality with a literal bang.