Epilogue
The black impala roared into the motel parking lot and screeched to a halt. Loud music pounded through the open windows and the clerk in the motel lobby cringed, muttering to herself about the 'youth of today'.
The driver, all flash leather and James Dean grin, let the engine run and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, in time to the music. His passenger, a long haired boy, the sort who only wore tee-shirts and maybe had a tattoo, hung his head out of the window and grinned at her.
"Any rooms"
She tutted and looked down at the book, sure they had plenty of rooms, sighing she lifted her pen and called back
"What name?"
The engine and music stopped and the two men got out of the car, the older slinging his arm across the shoulder of the younger, his green eyes glinting mischievously.
"The Winchester Brothers" he leant towards her, flirting outrageously "And we may be here for some time"
"Yeah" the other man's eyes seemed to bore into her soul and if she hadn't known any better, she would have sworn he was reading her mind "We've work to do".
And with that, they took the key out of her limp grasp and, smooth as you like, arms around each other, they strode towards the room she had given them without so much as a backwards glance. She watched, suddenly envious of such closeness, as they entered the room and closed the door on her and the rest of the world, entirely focused, each on the other, making up for a lifetime of lost time.
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