Disclaimers: Nope, not mine.
A/N: I woke up to an inbox full of reviews and it made my day. Thanks for the reviews, keep 'em coming.
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Chapter Five
The room was alive with motion. People were happily dancing to the soft sounds of a female singer on stage, some were posted up near the bar, ordering drinks and small talking with the bartender while others sat in swarms at the small tables talking about the days events; a day that ended over 50 years ago. None of them noticed the interplay between the club owner and the two men pressed up against the wall.
Dean's first instinct was to knock that stupid grin of off Bernie's face. While the formal introductions hadn't been made Dean was positive that this man was in fact the infamous Bernie Fontaine. That fact alone caused him to refrain from his initial inclination to pop Bernie in the face. He wasn't scare but if Bernie really was as powerful as both James and Annabelle had warned then he didn't want to put both he and Sam in imminent danger. At least not yet.
Bernie inched forward. Dean ignored him as best he could and whispered to Sam, "Can you move?"
"Yeah." Sam nodded, his eyes trained on Bernie.
"Good," Dean replied, "Then I'm about to say something I never wanted to have to say."
Sam gave him a puzzled glance.
"Run!" Dean shouted. Without hesitation Sam charged towards the side of the club with the stage fixed to it. There was a door next to the stage that he hadn't noticed before but seeing as it was his closest exit, he bolted towards it, silently praying that it was open and led to some kind of safe haven. Or at the least, not a dead-end. He crashed through the door with Dean following close behind. Once they were both safely inside Dean slammed the door shut and twisted the lock into place.
"Which way?" Sam breathed out.
They were standing in the middle of a long hallway and as Dean studied the possible escape routes he saw a large spiral staircase to his left. In most cases Dean would see running up the stairs as an invitation for entrapment but considering that the other part of the hallway looked to lead absolutely nowhere, he figured that the stairs would be his best option.
"Stairs!" He ordered.
They both turned and ran for the staircase. Once they had climbed the stairs they found themselves in a large room that housed what looked like extra tables and chairs, all covered with white sheets. The room had six windows which provided just enough moonlight for Dean and Sam to be able to see where they were going but not enough for them to make out all the objects in the room. Two of the windows faced the alley, two faced the street in front of the club and the last two provided an overhead view into the club itself.
Dean moved towards the windows facing the street, tripping over miscellaneous objects as he went.
"Ah, that's just great!" he growled once he reached the window. "My cars gone!" He whipped his head around, searching for sympathy from Sam.
Sam sighed, attempting to suppress a laugh, "Dean, it's 1947. Your car doesn't even exist yet."
Dean smiled slightly, a feeling of self consciousness over powering him at having just made such a dumb comment. "Yeah," he nodded, "I knew that." After a moment of thought Dean added, "Wait, technically we don't even exist yet either but," Dean gestured at himself emphatically, "here we are. Explain that Sammy."
Sam stared at Dean for a second, pondering how exactly to answer such a dumb attempt at rational thinking. He had a distinct feeling that Dean was joking but he couldn't be sure so instead of giving his comments any more thought he just shook his head and turned to look through the window that overlooked the interior of the club.
It was apparent that no one below had noticed the disturbance that he and Dean had caused by suddenly appearing and then dashing out of the ballroom just as quick. Bernie was no longer standing by the wall where he had pinned Dean and Sam earlier but it didn't appear that Bernie had given chase either. Sam couldn't help but wonder where the man had disappeared to.
Sam stopped contemplating Bernie's whereabouts when he saw a beautiful woman walking towards the dance floor.
"Dean!" Sam shouted, gesturing for Dean to join him at the window. Dean walked towards the window and peered out to see what had peeked his brothers' interest.
"Whoa," Dean replied as he saw the woman Sam was pointing at, "She's hot."
Sam kept pointing, ignoring Dean's comment, "That's the ghost girl from earlier." Dean looked at the woman again. She was standing next to the dance floor, swaying her hips slightly as she smiled happily at a couple dancing in front of her.
"You sure?" Dean asked.
Sam nodded, "Yeah, she's a little less transparent this time but that's definitely her."
"Okay," Dean nodded, "She came to you earlier, whether it was conscious or not, so go talk to her."
"Go talk to her?" Sam asked cocking his head at the idea. "Dean, look at how we're dressed. And it's not like I can just waltz out there and strike up a conversation about the war in Iraq."
Dean chewed it over for a second, "Point taken." His eyes lit up and he smile coyly, "We could always jump two random guys and steal their clothes."
"Who are you?" Sam asked, his face twisted into a look of total disbelief, "Bugs Bunny? This isn't a cartoon Dean. You can't just steal people clothes and disguise yourself. Besides, Bernie Fontaine isn't exactly Elmer Fudd. He won't be fooled that easily."
Dean shrugged, "It was a suggestion."
"A dumb one." Sam muttered as he looked back through the window at the girl. She had begun to walk away from the dance floor towards the front of the club. Sam looked to his left. There was a second set of stairs next to the windows facing the street. He could cut her off in a concealed part of the club and wouldn't have to expose himself to the rest of the club-goers. Convincing one ghost that she was indeed a ghost probably wouldn't break the spell but it was a start and could possibly result in the weakening of Bernie's powers. They hadn't been exposed to the full extent of Bernie's powers just yet but if he had the power to bring two live humans to a ghost infested time loop then who knows what else the man had in store for them.
Sam looked back down into the ballroom and saw that the girl was almost out of sight. "I'm gonna cut her off." He said as he headed towards the second set of stairs.
"Good," Dean replied, "You go do that and I'll go talk to Maryann." Dean said it as coolly as possible but as expected it still managed to catch Sam's attention. He stopped in his tracks and looked back at Dean.
"Maryann?" Sam asked.
"Yeah," Dean answered, "James said she was singing the night of the fire so I'm assuming the girl on stage is Maryann." Sam glanced down at the stage. The young woman who had previously been belting her heart out was now stepping off stage, presumably taking a much needed break.
Sam nodded and started towards the stairs again.
"Sam," Sam turned to look at Dean, "Meet me back here in an hour." Sam nodded and started walking again only to have Dean call him back.
"Sam," Sam sighed and looked at Dean, his patience wavering, "No matter what you do, don't sleep with her 'cause I don't know all the details it but I'm pretty sure that would be one messed up case of necrophilia."
Sam laughed, "Shut up Dean." Dean smiled and watched Sam rush down the stairs before he headed off in the direction of the ballroom hoping to catch up with Maryann before Bernie caught up with him.
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The girl was leaning against the door jam as Sam came down the stairs. Her back was to him and Sam hesitated before attempting to get her attention. He was unsure how to address her without giving away the fact that he wasn't from the area, let alone the time period and jumping right into the "hi, I'm from the future, you're a ghost and once you believe that we can all move on" conversation seemed slightly ambiguous.
He decided to start with a simple introduction and play it by ear from there.
"Excuse me," he called as he walked up behind her. She turned around and looked at him. He froze at the sight of her brown eyes staring into his. She was exactly as he remembered her and that alone freaked him out because now this was no longer a ghost he was looking at; she was a girl.
"Yes?" she smiled politely at him.
"Um," his mind was rushing with things to say, things not to say, things he'd have to explain and with so much going on in his mind he could barely manage a simple introduction. Finally he managed to smile and say, "I'm Sam."
She nodded and smiled, "Hello Sam, I'm Jo."
"Short for Joanne?" Sam asked trying as hard as possible to prolong the small talk in an attempt to postpone the inevitable.
"No, it's short for Josephine." Jo replied sweetly.
Sam smiled, "That's a very pretty name."
"Thank you." Jo replied.
Sam quickly racked his brain for something to say, anything to say, but every sliver of small talk that came to mind would make absolutely no sense when talking to someone of the 40's. This led to a long awkward moment of silence.
"You dress very unusual, Sam." Jo finally concluded as she gave Sam a once over. Sam looked down at himself and subconsciously soothed out the wrinkles in his brown suede jacket. "Most gentlemen wear tuxedos at a place like this."
"Well," Sam paused, "Mine's at the cleaners." Sam said simply adding a sideways smile, hoping to lighten the conversation and deflect any more questions that couldn't be answered just yet. "I saw you by the dance floor." Sam stated, quickly changing the subject. "Why weren't you dancing?"
Jo smiled, "I have no one to dance with at the moment. I came here with my sister and her boyfriend, or should I say fiancé." Jo's smile grew wider, "He just proposed to her, here, tonight, can you believe it?" She peeked around the corner and onto the dance floor where the couple she had been watching were still happily dancing, oblivious to anything else going on around them. Oblivious to the fact that the singer was gone and the band was only making a mild attempt at concocting a beat to dance to.
They did look happy though.
"They're going to have a long and happy life together." Jo added, still beaming as she watched her sister and her fiancé dance.
Long, yes. Life, not so much. Sam thought as he watched Jo watching them.
"So, what brings you to The Sapphire Room?" Jo asked as she turned back to look at Sam.
"Bernie Fontaine actually." Sam replied, happy at having a question he could actually answer honestly.
"You're friends?" She asked.
Sam shook his head, "Not exactly."
"Good." Jo nodded, "That man, there's something odd about that man."
Sam nodded. It seems Bernie's oddities hadn't gone unnoticed by the people in the club and now seemed as good a time as any to mention just why the man was acting odd. Hopefully, she'd believe him and not run away and completely ruin his chances of convincing the other ghosts.
"Jo, can I ask you a question?" Jo nodded happily. Sam took a deep breath. Here goes nothing.
"Do you believe in ghosts?"
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As Dean crept down the spiral staircases he heard voices in the hallway. He ducked into a small nook to the side of the hall and pressed his back to the wall.
"I need to talk to Mr. Fontaine." He heard a female voice pleading.
"Not now Maryann, he's busy." Came the stern reply. Dean peeked around the corner and saw the female singer talking to a burly man, wearing the same kind of ensemble that Bernie had been seen in earlier. The door which Dean had locked behind he and Sam earlier was now hanging from the hinges, obviously having been busted down by the aforementioned burly man. The man was pacing the hallway angrily with Maryann right on his heels.
Dean pushed himself back against the wall as the man began to charge towards his hiding place.
"Tony, please." Maryann begged. Dean listened. The footsteps had suddenly stopped. He peered around the corner and saw that Tony was now facing Maryann. Neither of them seemed to notice his presence but he still ducked further into nook to avoid detection.
"I told you he's busy." Tony replied his voice filled with annoyance. Obviously, Maryann had been pestering for quite some time now.
"Who's busy?" Dean heard Bernie's voice suddenly join the mix. At the sound of his voice Dean glanced out from his hiding spot once more.
"Boss," Tony started, "I told her you were-"
"What?" Bernie smiled, "Busy? I'm never too busy for my favorite singer. What seems to be the problem Maryann?"
Maryann sauntered towards him. She lowered her voice but it was still loud enough for both Dean and presumably Tony to hear. "Mr. Fontaine, I need to talk to you." She hesitated, "I found a book…in your office about…spells, and there's a symbol drawn in the corner of the ladies restroom…a strange symbol and…you've been talking to Catherine St. Croix." Maryann paused as Bernie's face clouded over with a fierce look. "What's going on Bernie?"
"You've been snooping, Maryann?" He said it more as a statement than a question but Maryann nodded anyway.
"There's something strange going on Bernie. I can feel it." She reached out to take his hand, "Please tell me what you're doing."
Bernie gently patted Maryann's hand and smiled, "I told you not to interfere."
"I'm not interfering," she whispered as she stared at Bernie's hand slowly tightening around hers. "Please," she gasped as she tried to pull her hand away form Bernie's tight grip, "I just want to help you."
"You want to help me, sweetheart?" Bernie asked as he loosened his grip, "Stay out of my business and no one will get hurt." He finally let go of her hand and she whipped it back, cradling it gently in her arm while looking at him in horror. He looked over her shoulder and gestured for Tony to move forward. "Tony," he smiled, "Why don't you take Maryann to the bar for a drink." He smiled down at Maryann, "Okay?"
Maryann nodded weakly as she allowed Tony to guide her out of the hallway and in the direction of the bar. Dean listened as the footsteps disappeared. He hesitated, waited for any signs of movement. When he heard none he looked out and saw the empty hallway.
He knew that talking to Maryann at this moment would be next to impossible especially now that Tony was with her but he knew that when the time came she'd be easier to convince. She was already starting to question Bernie's motives and that would attribute greatly to Dean and Sam's mission.
Carefully Dean crept around the corner and started walking towards the broken door. Before he managed to get halfway towards the door he heard a voice behind him.
"Mr. Winchester, so glad you decided to come out and play." Dean spun around and was face to face with Bernie Fontaine. He knew the hallway had just been empty. How did Bernie manage to creep up behind him unnoticed?
"Bernie!" Dean smiled as if he had just encountered an old friend.
With unnatural strength Bernie slammed Dean against the wall. Dean didn't have a chance to react or even spit of a quite remark before Bernie had his hand pressed firmly against his forehead, forcing Dean's head against the wall.
Normally Dean would have given the man the old Winchester 1-2 punch and been able to overpower him in a heartbeat but something was wrong. His head had begun to pound, the same way it had during the séance and suddenly Dean forgot how to move his arms, how to run, how to form words and all he could do was stand helplessly against that wall as Bernie's touch increased the pounding in his head. The pressure in his head increased and he could hear a steady heartbeat in his ear. His last thought before a curtain of black descended over his eyes was 'at least I know my heart's still beating'.
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TBC….
The action picks up in the next chapter so I hope you're ready.