Thanks for the reviews guys. Here's Chapter 3 - there's some nice Dean and Sam stuff in here. I will say no more :P
Disclaimer: Normal disclaimers apply.
Chapter 3: – Dean's humiliation
Dean pushed open the door and stepped into the shop, looking round at the array of surf boards, body boards, wetsuits and other beach gear. Sam, squeezing past him, urged him towards the counter at the far side of the shop, where Alex sat reading a magazine.
"Hi," he said brightly, as he looked round to find Sam seemingly absorbed in the surf boards nearest the door.
Closing the magazine and looking up, Alex said "Hi, can I help you, again?"
Putting on his most charming smile and shoving his hands deep into his pockets, he asked, "Umm do you give surfing lessons?"
Frowning slightly, she glanced down at a picture of herself and her mother sitting on a surfboard together in the sea, her mother's arms wrapped around her as they both smiled for the camera. Looking back at Dean she muttered "I'm not sure … I'm pretty much running the shop on my own at the moment … I don't think I have time." Her eyes drifted to the photograph again which had been taken just three weeks before. She could still feel her mother's arms around her waist and shoulders. The day had been hot and sunny and she could still smell the coconut suntan lotion her mother had used.
"Nice photo," said Dean with a genuine smile, as he followed her gaze to the picture which stood in a simple silver frame beside the cash register.
Alex smiled sadly, her outstretched fingers brushing the glass.
"You like to surf?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," she barely whispered, a light briefly sparkling in her eyes. "Well I used to."
"I'd love to give it a go," said Sam from across the shop, trying to lighten the atmosphere. He stood admiring a particularly nice board with a blue design across it. His eyes followed the electric blue as it carved its way through the crisp off-white surface, ending in a magnificent flourish with a sweeping curve. An eye-catching jet black wave completed its striking image. "I'd kick his ass," he laughed, as he dragged his eyes away from the board and pointed at his brother.
"In your dreams peewee," Dean shot back with a smirk.
"Wanna bet," Sam grinned, his competitive instinct kicking in.
"You're on," he laughed. "That is if you would give us some lessons," he said turning back to face Alex.
"Okay, okay," she surrendered. "Who am I to get in the way of macho bravado?"
"I'm offended," Dean grinned.
"You look it," came back the sarcastic reply. "Are you guys beginners?"
"Yeah," Dean muttered.
"Do you have any gear?"
"No," said Sam, shaking his head as he moved closer to counter.
"Well come by tomorrow morning and we'll pick out your gear. I have some stuff to do in the afternoon though, so you'll have to wait till the day after tomorrow for the lessons. Is that okay?"
"Cool", Dean shrugged. By the way, is there any place we can stay?"
"Well there's a motel just up the road and on your right," she said pointing up the hill to their left. It's not too far away.
"Thanks," Sam replied politely, before heading for the door followed by Dean.
Once outside, the pair glanced up and down the street making sure the coast was clear before sneaking round the side of the house looking for a way in. Finding an upstairs window open with a trellis underneath, Sam began to climb up it, Dean giving him a leg up.
"Urgh man, get your ass out of my face," he muttered under his breath.
"Keep it down," Sam hissed, as he hauled himself through the window. Crouching down beside it, he quickly scanned the room, checking the place was clear. Looking around more slowly, he found himself in a bedroom with light cream walls that were tainted grey from the smoke caused by the fire a week before. An old iron bed frame took up a large proportion of the room, next to which, sat an old ornate dresser with a mirror and a small alarm clock he knew he had seen before.
"Sam, where the hell are you?" came a harsh whisper, breaking Sam's quiet reverie.
Shaking himself, trying to wash away the dark cloud which was bubbling up inside him, he stood up and leant out of the window reaching down to give Dean a hand. "God you weigh a ton," he groaned as he heaved him up.
"Just pull me in man before someone sees my ass hanging out this bloody window."
"Okay okay," he laughed, dragging Dean into the room, both falling to the floor on top of one another with a clatter.
"Ooo Sammy," Dean grinned, looking down at his younger brother, who lay underneath him.
Sam rolled his eyes and pushed him off roughly, muttering "Get off me you creep."
"Oww," Dean groaned with a grin, "Feisty."
"Stop being a jerk, we've got a job to do!" Sam pulled Dean to his feet and crept soundlessly across the bedroom, passing the built in wardrobe and a wicker chair, as he headed for the door. Opening it slightly and listening for any sound of movement, he turned back, mouthing, "All clear."
They crept across the landing, passing a bathroom and another bedroom before reaching the boarded up room next to the stairs. Forcing one of the boards away from the wall, Dean bent down, removing a flashlight from inside his jacket, and crawled through the gap, Sam following close behind.
"Hurry up," Sam muttered, as Dean pulled out the small hand-sized scanner and turned it on. Sam glanced around the blackened and burnt room, taking in every aspect critically, his eyes looking over instinctively at the wall he'd seen in his vision.
Dean, beside him, slowly began moving further into the room, looking down intently at the machine clasped in his hand as it gave out readings.
"Whatever did this is long gone," said Dean, looking up at Sam, his scanner reading nothing much out of the ordinary.
Sam looked round at the room. "It's not the thing that killed mom and Jess," he said.
"What?" said Dean, looking at his brother sharply. "How d'ya know?"
"I can feel it. You were right. Something else did this."
Dean raised his eyebrow. "Don't tell me, that weird ESP shit right!"
Sam rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Trust me okay?"
"Fine," said Dean shrugging. He turned towards the door snatching a glance back at his brother studying him with concern as he slid his flashlight and the scanner back into his jacket pocket. "Let's get out of here; this place gives me the creeps." He walked over to the boarded up door, pushing the loose board aside and crawled back out. Sam hesitated, looking round the room one last time before following him.
"So you got anything," Dean asked several hours later, as he opened the bathroom door wearing a towel to find Sam sitting on one of the twin beds of the cheap motel room, with the laptop on his lap.
"Not much," Sam replied, looking up in annoyance as Dean ran a hand through his wet hair, showering him with water droplets. "Do you mind?"
Dean pulled a face and took up the notepad Sam had been using to make notes. "So no other strange deaths, disappearances or unexplained events? Great!" he muttered sarcastically.
"Get dressed and keep looking. I need a shower," said Sam as he put the laptop aside and made his way to the bathroom. "And you better not have used up all the hot water!" he shouted back, as he closed the door.
"Yeah, whatever bitch."
"Jerk!" came the muffled reply.
"Still nothing?" said Sam, as he walked out of the bathroom half an hour later.
"Nothing," said Dean with a gloomy expression, "Other than some hell-raising teens."
"Library it is then," Sam smirked, "After we get our surf gear tomorrow."
"What fun!" Dean muttered sarcastically, groaning inwardly at the delighted expression evident in Sam's eyes.
Sam grinned widely, knowing his brother hated the deathly quiet of libraries. "Let's go get something to eat," he suggested, grabbing his jacket off the chair and leading the way out to the car.
"You got anything bookworm," said Dean, the following afternoon as they sat in the library. A nearby librarian gave them an angry glance.
Walking towards him with an armful of old tatty books, Sam muttered, "Maybe. You start on these; I need to go through town records. Oh and Dean, keep your voice down!"
Dean scowled as his brother smirked with delight at his discomfort. Groaning inwardly as he turned his attention to the pile of books before him, he opened the nearest one on folklore and began scanning its contents.
"I can't believe you spent nearly four years doing this," Dean moaned, as he reached the hundredth page.
Sam grinned. "Welcome to the joys of higher education-"
"And bookworm fulfilment," Dean finished.
Sam thumped him on the shoulder with a playful grin. "Don't dismiss it Dean, libraries can be a good place to pick up girls."
Dean gave him a look saying, "Yeah right."
"Where do you think I met Jess!"
Dean studied him before grinning "That's my boy."
Rolling his eyes, Sam started on the next lot of town records, scanning the names of the town's births and deaths.
Sitting in silence for half an hour, the pair ploughed through books, newspapers, records and journals.
"Other than some superstition and witchcraft in the 17th and 18th centuries I can't find anything unusual," said Dean, snapping the last book shut and tossing it aside on the desk.
"Why don't you go ask the librarian then? Say we're doing a paper on local folklores and legends or something?"
"That's more your forte college boy."
Receiving a rude finger gesture but nothing more, Dean forced himself to his feet and walked through the maze of old oak tables, chairs and bookcases, heading for the counter where a librarian, who looked as old as the library itself, sat working.
"Hi," he said, as he reached the counter and smiled.
The librarian, a sour-faced old woman with white hair and large black beady eyes looked up. "Yes young man?"
Dean shuddered involuntarily, creeped out by the old woman. 'Why do librarians always have to be old and creepy' he thought, before switching his brain in gear. "I was wondering whether you could help me," he said, forcing himself to look calm. "I'm doing a research paper on local folklore and witchcraft and was hoping you could point me in the right direction … please."
The woman, looking bored, said, "Aren't you the researcher! Isn't it your job to find out information, not mine?"
From behind him, Dean heard Sam snort and hastily turn it into a cough, though unable to disguise his grin. Dean glanced behind him with a scowl and Sam picked up a book and hid his face behind it quickly. Turning back to the old woman he tried to change tact.
"To be honest with you," he said, glancing at her name tag. "Beatrice. I was wondering whether you knew any other stories, you know, other than what I've already found in the books."
"Excuse me?" Beatrice said sharply.
"Well some stories are passed down through the generations rather than written about and I thought you might know," he tried with his most charming smile.
"Well you were wrong," she said, standing up quickly. "There are no stories around here other than the ones you'll find in those books. Now excuse me, I'm busy." With that the old lady bustled away, leaving Dean to stare after her perplexed.
"That was weird," he muttered, as he returned to his seat opposite Sam.
"What, your charm's never failed you before?" Sam grinned, looking up from the piles of paper in front of him. Dean kicked him under the table, making him curse under his breath.
"No smart ass. She was really cold and cagy, not like that man in the café. "You got anything yet?"
"Not really, other than a couple of disappearances, but I'd guess they just moved away from the area, it's not uncommon."
"Why is it librarians are always old and creepy?" said Dean, shuddering.
"They're not," Sam laughed. "Just the one's you have to flirt with."
Dean's cheeks flushed in embarrassment. Thumping his brother in the shoulder, he muttered, "Come on, let's get out of here. I need a drink."
"You ready?" Alex asked the following day, as Dean and Sam parked the Impala and walked over to where her open-top Jeep held three surf boards.
"Yeah," said Sam grinning, as Dean fidgeted uncomfortably in his surf shorts and t-shirt.
"It's been a long time since those legs saw sunlight," Alex grinned, as she followed Sam's look, making Dean flush. Handing each of the brothers a surfboard and locking her car, she led the way down to the beach.
Throwing down her towel and taking off her vest top and sandals, she waited by the surf for Sam and Dean. Grabbing a hair band from her surf shorts' pocket and tying her hair up in a rough bun, she watched as they each removed their shirts and headed towards her.
"Right, the surf isn't strong at this side of the beach, so it should be easier for you guys to learn in." She stepped into the surf, a wave of sadness strangling her as she remembered the last time she'd been in, accompanied by her mother. Shaking off the choking feeling with difficulty, she waded into the sea until she was waist deep and beckoned the pair to follow.
"Right, now get on your boards and paddle out like this," she instructed, as she lay on her board and swam out into the bay, her sadness fading to a small niggling sensation in the pit of her stomach.
The water was cool but refreshing; the sun glittering upon its rough surface as they headed out of their depth.
"Right, now when a wave comes, you need to paddle hard and push yourself up onto your board, taking a crouching position, leaning ever so slightly forwards to keep up with the wave." Sitting up on her board, a leg either side, Alex watched as they each pushed up on their boards at her instructions, Sam picking it up a lot quicker than Dean.
After an hour of practicing and satisfied they could form the correct stance in the shallow surf, she paddled her way over to the other side of the cove where the wind blew straight up the beach off the sea, pushing up the rougher surf and bigger waves.
"Right practice is over. Now when you catch one of these waves make sure you have a firm grip on your board or else you're gonna go flying." She smiled as she watched Sam and Dean struggle against the waves. "Hurry up!"
"Okay, you guys ready?" she asked as the pair caught up with her.
"Yes," came the unified response.
Smirking, she said, "Here it comes. And remember, get a good footing and ride in, don't force it or you'll lose your balance. "GO!"
Sam and Dean paddled forwards hard as the wave approached, and got ready to push up. Both lost their balance and fell off backwards into the waves.
Laughing, Alex paddled over to make sure they were okay. "Harder than it looks isn't it," she said, as Sam coughed and Dean rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I didn't expect you to do it the first time. That would have been a miracle!"
After another hour of trying, Sam had had several successful attempts, though Dean was still losing his balance.
"You've just got to find your centre," Alex smiled, as he frowned in frustration. "Watch!"
Paddling out a little further and getting into position, she kicked her feet and pushed forwards, catching the wave and drawing her feet onto her board smoothly. Finding her balance, she tilted the board slightly and surfed across the wave, all the time holding her crouching position. She gently turned the board as she rode the wave all the way to the beach, where Sam stood waiting.
"Just find your centre!" Alex shouted back to Dean, as she made her way out of the water and stood next to Sam holding her board.
Waiting for a wave and paddling furiously as the next came towards him, Dean forced himself to his feet and found his balance. "YES!" he shouted, punching the air in triumph as he surfed towards the beach.
"DEAN DON'T!" Alex shouted, as he instinctively stood up straighter and consequently lost his balance, falling backwards off his board and went under.
Sam doubled over in hysterics as his brother surfaced only to be dunked by another wave. Alex bit her lip trying not to smile as Dean, unable to get on his board fast enough, got swallowed up by wave after wave.
Two guys, who had just pulled up in their truck and had taken out their surfboards, watching Dean's unsuccessful attempts to get back on his board, walked down the beach laughing.
"Hey Alex, are you teaching the yuppies to surf or flounder?" said one, whilst the other continued to laugh.
"Hi Seth, Adam," Alex acknowledged, biting back her annoyance as they walked towards her.
Seth had short curly blonde hair and wore navy blue surf shorts. Adam, standing next to him, had an unkempt crop of light brown hair and was wearing green surf shorts.
Alex rolled her eyes as the pair, continuing to laugh, made their way into the surf, passing a bedraggled Dean who, looking like a drowned rat, was struggling out of the water, his board floating abandoned nearby.
"You okay?" Sam grinned, as Dean hauled himself up the beach and flopped down on the sand, breathing heavily. "I did warn ya!"
"Shut it Sammy." Sam bit down on his bottom lip trying not to grin. Realisation dawned on Dean's face. "You little shit. You've done this before!" he said, flushing red.
"Only once! While I was at Stanford!" Sam laughed.
Dean threw his head against the sand, letting out a loud exhausted groan. "God, I need a drink! Is there a decent bar in this town?"
Raising her eyebrow in annoyance, Alex inclined her head slightly. "Yeah, 'The Deep.' It's just up the cliff on the left of the main road. It looks out over the cove."