A/N: To make up for posting a short chapter, I'm posting another chapter in the same day (although it is also kind of short, but I couldn't help it. I got side-tracked thinking about Dean in the shower. It could happen to anybody).

I wake up to Sam calling my name. Slowly, I loosen my grip on the knife under my pillow and push myself up into a sitting position. Groaning, I try to remember why Sam won't let me sleep. Oh, yeah.

"Morning, sunshine." Sam grins at me.

I scowl at him, running my hands through what I'm sure is a lovely case of bed head. I hate Sammy in the morning. He's way too…chipper. I don't understand how someone can be a bowl of sunshine in the morning, but be pouty and moody all day.

"What time is it?" I grumble.

If he's gotten me up before eleven, I'll kill him.

"Eleven thirty."

Okay, he got lucky this time. Still, I don't see any reason why I need to be up. Nothing's going to happen with this town before dark. And until it's time for the shooting, action part of this, there's really not much for me to do. Sam's the research guy.

"What do you want, Sam?" I demand, wondering what college boy's brilliant excuse will be this time.

"Well, I don't want anything, but your girlfriend stopped by this morning." Sam says, grinning like an idiot when he says 'girlfriend.'

"What are you twelve?" I snap at him.

He shrugs, still grinning. I itch to wipe that grin off his face. I'll get him back. Later. When I'm really awake.

I sigh, "What'd she want?"

"Well, first, I think you should know that she brought us breakfast." Sam says, revealing a bag that he's been holding behind his back. He hands it over and I discover doughnuts. Grudgingly, I nod, admitting that she's pretty cool for bringing us sugary goodness in the morning, "Secondly, she wants to talk to us about Fort Tucker. I guess she's already done some research on it that she thought we might want to hear."

"And you couldn't take care of this?" I wonder out loud as I stuff a doughnut into my mouth, hoping the sugar rush will make up for the fact that I'm awake, "Research is your thing."

"Yeah, but I'm not the one she wants to talk to." Sam replies, teasing me again.

I get the distinct feeling this may be Sammy's way of paying me back for the whole thing with Sarah on the hunt with the painting. I swallow my doughnut and reach for another one, determined not to let Sammy get the upper hand. Or, at the very least, not to let him know that he has.

"Well, what do you think about her?" Sam presses.

I shrug, "I'd do her."

Sammy makes a face, "You'd do anything that's female, human, and breathing."

"That's not the point." I reply around a mouthful. I swallow before continuing with a smirk, "The point is I could."

"You're a jackass, Dean." Sam pouts.

Ah, there's the Sammy I know and love. Much as his moodiness can get annoying, it's ten times better than his cheerful teasing.

"Jealous, Sammy?" I ask, mirroring his previous attitude with mock cheeriness of my own, knowing it will tick him off.

"Would you shut up?" Sam says. He gestures at the door beside his bed that leads to the adjoining room, "That's her room. She could hear you."

I roll my eyes, but I let it go.

"Are you going to eat all of those?" Sam complains as I take out a third doughnut.

I look from the doughnuts to Sam, frowning. I hate it when he makes me make tough decisions like this. With another sigh, I hand over the rest of the doughnuts to my little brother.

Quickly finishing my last one, I feel better with "food" in my stomach. I get up and head for the shower.

"We'll talk to her when I'm done." I tell Sam, who is still being kind of grumpy, before I shut the bathroom door behind me.

I'm going to have to have a talk with Sammy. He's got to give up these crazy ideas of his about getting big brother Dean to live his storybook ideal life. I don't want to have a caring relationship like him and Jessica. I'm not that naïve. I know that kind of life's not meant for me. I'm a Winchester, after all. One of these days, Sam will realize that he's one, too.

But so what if I don't make Sammy happy and propose to this girl? She's kind of cute, she chases supernatural stuff (although I sincerely doubt she's handled anything on a level with what Sam and I deal with), and she's available. That's more than I usually ask of the girls I'm with. Plus, her little stunt the night before with the crazy driving and making Sammy hang on to the oh-shit handle for dear life was…interesting. I mean, if I'm not going to talk any sense into either her or Sam, I may as well enjoy myself. I grin to myself as I think about that and quickly rub some shampoo into my hair. Lucky for me, Sam showered the night before and left everything in here for me. Places like this, if they do have any shampoo in the bathroom already, it's probably something left behind by former tenants that has developed a life of its own. Most people don't think it's possible for shampoo to go bad, but I beg to differ. I've seen it. It's scarier than a ghost.

Hair washed and body clean, but mind quickly headed into the gutter, I exit the shower. I grab one of the towels that Sam and I bring with us (once again, don't trust anything in the bathroom in places like this) and wrap it around my waist. Fixing the towel so that it'll stay in place, I position myself in front of the mirror to shave. I grab our bag of bathroom crap, I pull out the shaving cream only to discover that Sam has used it all and stuck the empty can back in the bag. Punk kid. I toss the empty can into the trash and reluctantly begin to shave with just soap and water. For all his fancy schooling and manners, he can sure be a jerk about using up bathroom amenities.

I wonder what made a girl like Lindy decide to live this kind of life. I doubt a demon killed her mom and her dad decided to train her as a hunter. We're special like that. So, it must have been something else. Maybe I'll ask her.

Not that I've decided to completely trust her yet. I've given up trying to get rid of her, sure, but of course I don't trust her yet. She's not going to be around long enough for me to trust her. We'll take care of this thing that's snatching up stupid kids and we'll be out of town by tomorrow. Same as usual.

I manage not to mutilate my face so I consider shaving a success. That done, I quickly brush my teeth and shake some of the remaining water out of my hair before forcing it into its normal arrangement. Now I just need some clothes and I can go see what Lindy has to offer about Fort Tucker.