"Bill, you got any answers?" Sam wasn't expecting anything helpful and he wasn't disappointed.

"Get out of my flat so I can call a mate to help me...deal with all this." He was desperate for them to leave and kept switching his gaze between Archie, and down the corridor towards the room Alfie was in.

"Yeah that's a great idea!" Dean rolled his eyes. "Then you can run straight to Haversham with a warning and get to be the big man again. Do you think we're actually stupid?!"

"I think..." He shook his head like he was clearing water out of his ears. "I dunno what I think. What more do you want from me?" he whined.

"The email address would be a good idea" said Cas. Bill seemed to shrivel like a salted slug as Castiel walked out of the shadows. "Maybe we can bring the meet forward. Make a few demands of our own?"

"That's actually not a bad idea." Sam agreed. There was nothing he wanted more than to get this over and done with. "But changing the plans now might spook this guy. As last man standing he's got to be pretty paranoid at this point. Dean?"

"Depends if we can get hold of the right kind of tracker quickly. If we can't, then we make that a solid plan."

"And if that doesn't work too?" Sam hated to be negative but he couldn't see how else to get at someone whose security had to be on maximum alert. Not without taking more time than Sam was prepared to spend.

Lara unexpectedly spoke up. It was Dean she looked at, spoke to. Not Sam. It should have stung more, but Sam had already started to close off that part of himself. Tried to anyway. The problem was that every time she spoke his heart betrayed him by racing a bit faster.

"You can get a GPS tracker from anywhere - but they will probably be too big and too visible for what you need. Your bloke will spot it straight away." She held up a hand. "However, I have a pretty specialist micro one at work that should stick to a necklace ok. Or at least the box you put it in..."

"Yes!" Dean grinned, unaware of the subtle change between her and Sam.

"Must be fate we met you sweetheart." He gave her a wink and one of the special million-dollar smiles he usually reserved for super-ultimate hot barmaids and waitresses.

"Yeah, well then fate doesn't like me very much." There was just a faint trace of bitterness.

"If fate doesn't like you then she's a bitch. Which, incidentally, she is. You however are awesome. So can you set up my cell to receive the signal?"

"Easily, it won't take me long. I've used it a couple of times on bits of expensive IT equipment that got nicked at work and we've always managed to recover them back. A warning tho' - it won't have tons of battery life..."

"Hopefully we wont need it to. Haversham will want to get his hands on the mysterious and all-powerful Necklace of Trish as soon as he can. So long the battery lasts maybe half a day I reckon we'll be ok. If it dies too soon then we'll have to go the email route."

Dean seemed satisfied enough with the plan so far. He looked over at Castiel who also seemed pretty happy to continue.

"So Bill. What's the address?"

There was a long enough pause that Sam thought Bill might not answer.

"I'll write it down if you get me a pen. It's loads of numbers and letters." He seemed a much different man to the swaggering bully who had been digging around inside Sam's arm with a knife just a few hours ago.

Dean looked around and grimaced as he found a chewed up pen that looked like it had been mauled by a dog. Or a human with seriously disgusting habits. "I'll write it down, I still don't trust you with any sharp objects. Go..."

Dean repeated every character back to Bill three times before writing it on the wall in big letters. "Ok, good." He looked up. "And as for you guys - if Sam agrees, you get a minor reprieve until Haversham is dead. If it turns out we need to email him, and the email address is even a little bit wrong, I'll take it out of all your asses tomorrow. Till then, I suggest you guys spend the night safely tucked away in the pleasuredome."

Sam nodded in acceptance. "And Archie?" He tapped the corpse in front of him with the tip of his boot.

Dean answered like he had it all planned out. "If we're hanging around here a while, I don't want him stinking the place up. Well, stinking it up worse than it already is. I'm guessing this dive hasn't been cleaned since Chuck was in diapers. Bill, you're on dragging duties. Grab a hold of your pal and and get him into the spare room. Sam, you go get the kid out and move him into the pleasuredome."

Bill looked up. "Alfie?...but..."

"Yeah, did I forget to mention he ain't dead? Happy Hanukkah. Move!" He kicked the bewildered Bill's ankles to get him moving. "I'll leave you to break the news to him about his uncle."

Scratching at the dried blood on his neck, Sam strode down to go get Alfie, eager to get away from the gore soaked room. And from Lara. He entered the spare room to a solidly hateful glare from Alfie. Sam had secured him well and it took a few minutes to untie him before herding him with threats and promises into the pleasuredome. The kid took several steps inside before wrinkling up his nose. The room had gained an even more unpleasant smell to it now. Blood, sweaty fear and Gavin's palpable anger made for a heady combination. Sam waited patiently by the door until he heard Bill slowly dragging Archie's body into the now vacant room behind. Dean followed a moment later, shoving the puffing, sweating, red-faced Bill back into the pleasuredome.

Sam took a second. Then handed Alfie the key to Gavin's cuffs, telling him to wait until they were gone before unlocking him. It was way, way more than Gavin deserved, but Sam could see that being chained to the bed with his arms above his head wasn't helping the guy's shot up shoulder any. Dean softly shook his head at Sam's decent gesture but didn't argue. Instead he addressed the maniacal Gavin, who was steadily grinding his teeth in time to the grinding of his handcuffs against the metal bar.

"Hey, Looney Tunes! Bill will explain what's going on. You're all gonna be in here a while so get yourselves comfy. Night fellas!" The brothers all but ran out of the room. Sam slammed the door shut behind him, breathing hard with relief when the final lock was bolted. The crazy-mad Londoners were now one less problem for him to deal with for a while.

Sam put an arm out as Dean went to walk back down the corridor. "Hey - stop a second." Dean complied, a questioning look on his face. Sam took a breath. "Once Lara's given us the tracker I want her to go home and stay there."

"You'll get no argument from me Sam, this is no place for a civilian to be." He grinned. "Lemme tell you - that Lara is gonna be like jello in your hands once this is all done and you're all cleaned up. Nothing like a bit of heroic danger to get the blood flowing..."

"No, Dean. Thats not what I meant." It was painful for him having to say the next words. "There's...there's no me and Lara. No chance anymore. The look she gave me..." Sam winced. "When Haversham is dead I'm coming back to the States. Back to where I belong."

Dean's mouth visibly opened in surprise. Then morphed into the biggest grin Sam had seen in... well, years probably.

"Whoa...slow down there. I'm not saying we're ok. We're not. By a longshot. I'll never get over what happened - what you did will always be there between us."

Dean's smile reduced in wattage. Sam continued. "But I need to be out hunting again. Back home. Maybe we'll do it together again, maybe we won't, I can't think about that yet. All I know is that I can't bear to be here anymore. This room, this City, I cant be here anymore." It felt, to Sam, like he was always running. Away from Dean, from the States, from his demon-shaped miserably fucked-up family heritage. And now away from Lara. Who smelled like vanilla, had befriended him when he was lonely and had shown him nothing but kindness. He felt like a failure. All he ever seemed to do was run in the wrong direction.

Dean gripped his arm. Was almost gonna be a hug but he backed off. "I get it Sam, I do. Girls are always gonna come and go." Dean looked affronted when Sam huffed in disapproval. "What...? They do! Even the good ones...especially the good ones. They don't stay." Dean carried on with his version of a pep talk. "And as for me and you... I know it'll take some time and I'll do whatever it takes to make it up to you. You call the shots - any shot - and I'll be there with whatever you need. Me and Cas both." He let go of Sam's arm and put on a really serious face. "But hunting? That's exactly what you need. What you've always needed. My god, you were working in a bank. A bank! Thats like taking a wild lion and putting him in a zoo. Or..or being a caged hen instead of free range. Its not natural! You need to roam free..."

"Um wow, very poetic Dean."

"You know what I mean. You...and me...we weren't made for normal life. Its stifling and unnatural and just plain damn wrong!"

How could Sam argue with that? He agreed with every word. So he nodded and choked down anything that would have come out all emotional. Nodded, and walked back down the corridor to the living room.