Price of the Road

When you arrived back at your room the boys let themselves in and made themselves comfortable. Guess I'm footing the bill for lodgings. It's fine, not like I enjoy a room to myself or anything. A strong exhale calmed the negativity and your next mission was apparent. Washing the hospital smell out of your hair. Sam was at the desk and Dean sank into the chair, both with research at the ready.

A half hour passed and your soaking had to come to an end. You were just at the end of towel drying your hair when you cracked the door for some cool air. The faint hum of masculine voices seeped into the bathroom. You couldn't make out particular words, but then again you didn't really care to...until your name was mentioned. "It was Y/N, wasn't it?" The towel stopped mid length down your locks. "Sammy you dog! We've all been there. Hell, remember that little wet T-shirt contest you guys had when you gave her your Christmas present. Price of the road little brother." Never wearing white again. Got it. A knock interrupted your nausea. Grabbing the gun from the under the bathroom counter, you edged into the living room. Dean peeked at the new visitor before rolling his eyes and swinging the door open. "Bela, as I live and breathe." You kept your weapon raised, remembering your last encounter. "I thought I smelled a thieving skank."

"Nice to see you too, my client loved the lingerie. Paid three figures. It was extra because it was used."

"Cute. I'll remember that." You didn't need to. A revenge plan had been brewing since your last meeting.

"You called me, remember?"

"I remember you turning me down."

"Well, I'm just full of surprises." Sam coughed, awkwardly. "Hey, Bela. What's going on?" Your brow furrowed until...ewe…

"I brought you your African Dream Root. Nasty stuff. And not easy to come by."

"Why the sudden change of heart?" Dean questioned. She began to untie her trench coat and Sam's comfortability decreased, confirming your theory. "What, I can't do you a little favor every now and again?"

"No, you can't. Now, come on. I want to know what the strings are before you attach 'em."

"You said this was for Bobby Singer, right? Well, I'm doing it for him, not you."

"Bobby? Why?"

"He saved my life once...in Flagstaff." Racking your brain, you couldn't remember any Flagstaff stories that connected to Bela. Must've been during the California break. "I screwed up, and he saved me, okay? Are you satisfied?" Narrowing your eyes, "Nope, but for arguments sake we'll go with it."

"So, when do we go on this little magical mystery tour?" to which Dean replied, "Oh, you're not going anywhere. I don't trust you enough to let you in my car, much less Bobby's head. No offense."

"None taken." Dean shut the Dream Root into the safe and spun the lock. Bela became annoyed, "It's 2:00 A.M. Where am I supposed to go?"

"Get a room. Oh, they got the Magic Fingers, a little "Casa Erotica" on Pay-Per-View. You'll love it."

"Y/N's staying in here, why can't I?"

"We actually like her." "Because it's my room!"

You and Dean said simultaneously. Bela rolled her eyes and grabbed her purse begrudgingly. Sam stood as he practically yelled, "Nice to-seeing you." You rolled your eyes and Dean stared at his younger brother. "Really dude, the first one I get, but Bela!? She's evil." You pictured the three of you in bed. There were worse options.