Sam looked up as the door to their room opened and Dean entered. He looked down at his watch and gave Dean a knowing look.

Dean just smirked and headed for his bed, collapsing onto it.

"That bad?"

"That good. Damn, Sammy, she was…"

Sam quickly held up his hand, cutting off Dean's words. "I don't need to know the details," he said. "Just glad you had a good time."

"Understatement of the year, Sammy boy."

"Do you at least know her name?"

"Marcia Brody. Marcia, Marcia, Marcia!" Dean replied, laughing at the Brady Bunch line he'd quoted.

Sam laughed along with him. "Marcia Brody? Does she have sisters named Jan and Cindy?"

"Why, you need a date?"

Sam ignored the jab. "I take it she's staying here, too? You gonna see her again tomorrow?"

"Yeah, I'm taking her to the beach in the morning."

"Damn," Sam remarked, wondering about his brother's attitude, he was usually the 'love 'em and leave 'em,' one-night-stand type. "Are you really my brother?"

"Hey, one word, Sammy: Tactile," Dean told him, knowing by Sam's face what he'd been thinking. "Well, that and the fact that I can still look at all the other eye candy around and she'd never know it…"

"Okay, you're still Dean."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

The next morning, Sam joined Dean and Marcia on their trip to the beach. Dean led her from the parking lot and over the dunes to a nice spot away from most of the crowd already there. Sam spread out the bedspread they'd taken from one of the beds in their room before kicking off his sneakers and dropping down onto it.

Dean helped Marcia orient herself so that she, too, sat down onto the bedspread.

"I used to come here as a kid," she began. "Is there still a blue lighthouse to the south?" she asked.

"Yeah," Dean replied. "A navy blue and white striped one. We're about half a mile from it, probably."

"What else do you see?"

"Well, I'm sure Sammy here is seeing all the young college-aged girls walking around in their skimpy bikinis," Dean started.

"But not you, you don't see them," Marcia cut in, laughing.

"Dean pointed them out to me, first," Sammy put in, defending himself.

"What else do you see? Any boats out there today?" she asked.

"There's a couple of small sailboats, out straight ahead of us, a couple people trying to windsurf," Dean told her. "Out further, looks like a couple freighters."

"You can see them out that far?"

"Ol' eagle eye Dean…" Sam remarked. "Can shoot the wings off a fly at fifty yards."

"You boys hunters?"

"Sometimes," Dean replied.

"So, Marcia, you said you used to come here when you were younger?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

"Yeah. My family came here every summer when us kids were young. I always wanted to come back again, as an adult, just to see if I could remember things, how they felt, smelled… After… after I lost my sight, even more so." She was quiet for a moment, then said, "I'm sorry. Getting melancholy here, instead of having a good time."

"It's okay," Dean replied.

"Well," Sam said, standing up. "I'm gonna go for a swim. Catch you guys later," he added, heading for the surf.

"Your brother seems nice," Marcia stated, when she didn't hear Sam's footfalls anymore.

"Yeah, he is. Too nice sometimes, gets him in trouble," Dean returned.

"So that's why you're around, to be the big, protective big brother?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

"So who protects you?"

Dean briefly wondered about why she would say that, but told her, "I don't need protecting. I can take care of myself."

She reached out and, after a bit of feeling around, grabbed Dean by the chin, leaned in and kissed him, hard. "That's what they all say," she said.

By mid-afternoon, the trio was ready to head back to the resort. After helping Marcia out of the car, Dean told Sam, "I'm gonna walk Marcia back to her room."

Sam nodded and said goodbye to the two. He knew by Dean's tone of voice that his brother probably wouldn't be getting back to their room any time soon.

Again, he was quite happy about how their little vacation was turning out. A Dean that was getting some was a Dean that was happy. And a happy Dean was always a good thing, making for a happy Sam, even…

Sam smiled even more as he entered his room, thinking that the only thing that could possibly be better for Dean's mood would be if he'd hustled pool money from her first and she still wanted to have sex with him…

Dean unlocked and opened the door to Marcia's room for her. He stood aside and watched as she made her way into the room, her red-tipped cane showing her the way around the room's furnishings. She stopped at the foot of the bed and beckoned him closer. She removed her sunglasses and exposed her damaged eyes.

Unfazed by them, seeing only the perfect body they were part of, Dean closed and locked the door behind him and moved into her arms, a smile on his face.

"So tell me, Dean," she purred, "Are you like leftover stew, better on the second day?"

Her hands moved to the bottom of his tee shirt, lifting the edges up and over his head.

"You know, that was really bad," he replied, unbuttoning her blouse. "I don't think I would even use a line like that."

"No? What kind of line would you use, then?" She reached for the zipper on his jeans, pulled it down.

"I don't know. Can't remember the last time I had more than a one nighter." He unhooked her bra and let it fall to the floor.

"Those women don't know what they missed." She pushed his jeans down. "Commando? Ooh, you live dangerously."

"You don't know the half of it. And yes, they do know what they missed." His hands were cupping her breasts as she undid her own shorts' zipper, let the cloth fall to the floor.

"Well at least I'm not going to miss out," she said and shoved Dean onto the bed, following him down to lie on top of him.

The two rolled around on the bed, fighting for dominance, losing the rest of their clothing before Dean found himself being straddled by Marcia. She leaned down and kissed him, before making her final move, joining with him.

Dean gasped as she moved, up and down, all around, her hands roving up and around his chest and abdomen, tracing his scars. They had nearly reached their crescendo, when Marcia suddenly stopped.

"You know what I think I like most about you, Dean?" she asked, her voice suddenly very serious.

Dean, not used to any deep conversations during sex, warily answered, "Noooo."

He was even more confused when it seemed as if she had made direct eye contact with him, and somewhat scared when she said, "You have the most beautiful eyes."

And that was when Dean screamed.