Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
"I have some of the finest tellers this side of the Mississippi," Roscoe said as he eagerly ushered Sam and Dean out the front door and around to the side alley. "I assure you that you will be more than satisfied with what you learn."
Sam took in the sights around him. A collection of about ten tables were all filled with customers, each staring with wide eyed excitement at their teller. One woman in particular—a heavily jeweled woman—was overly dramatic with each sweep of her hand, the many bracelets jingling against each other with each swoop. Across from that woman was a younger woman, Sam guessed she couldn't be older than twenty-five, who had an older woman at her table fully engrossed in the crystal ball as she wove some crap story, he was sure.
Sam willed himself not to roll his eyes at the spectacle of it all. It reminded him vaguely of a circus, but just as the tellers had a role to play for their customers, he and Dean had their own parts to perform.
"Rosie, Rosie, come here my darling," Roscoe called. The heavily jeweled woman –Rosie, Sam gathered—shook hands with the young man she had been servicing, and sauntered over to Sam, Dean, and Roscoe. Dean's eyebrows shot up at the sight of her.
"What can I do for you, Roscoe?" Rosie asked, eyeing up Sam and Dean, a smile spreading across her ruby red lips.
"My dear, this is—" he paused, looking at Sam and Dean. "I'm sorry, I don't think I caught your names?"
"Uh, I'm Jimmy," Sam said quickly, "and that's my brother, Richard."
"Ah, yes," Roscoe breathed. "Like I was saying Rosie, this is Bruce and Rick. They're tourists and have a taste for the mystical. I was hoping maybe you could give them a peek into that realm that mystifies so many, you know, since Addie is currently occupied."
Sam noticed Rosie's eyes flash to the young woman he had noticed earlier before focusing back on Sam and Dean.
"My brother and I—" Sam began, but with the wave of a jeweled hand, Rosie interrupted him.
"You don't need to speak, my dear," she said, her eyes glittering mischievously as she eyed up both him and Dean. "I already know why you're here. You have questions that can only be answered by the spirits of the beyond, isn't that right?"
"Yes! Yes, that's absolutely right, how did you know?" Sam avoided making eye contact with Dean, already knowing that his brother was doing his best to keep a straight face and not blow their whole cover.
"Oh, honey, I know all things." Rosie placed her index finger on Sam's chin and Sam fought the urge to take several steps back. "Shall we, then?"
"Thanks again, Addie," a middle-aged woman smiled warmly as she dug in her purse and pulled out a crisp twenty-dollar bill.
"Mrs. Page—I really can't take that," Addie stammered. She glanced over at Roscoe who was busy with Rosie and two customers. She didn't think he noticed.
"I insist," Mrs. Page said, pressing the bill into Addie's fist. "If it weren't for you, Bill would be gone. He would be truly gone." Addie noticed Mrs. Page's hazel eyes grow watery. "Besides, law school doesn't pay for itself, does it?"
"No, no it doesn't. Thank you, Mrs. Page, really. This is a big help."
"I'll see you in two weeks, then." Mrs. Page gathered her belongings and rose from the table. Addie went in for her usual handshake but was ambushed by an embrace. She forgot that Mrs. Page was a hugger. The scent of rosewater filled Addie's nostrils and she was immediately reminded of her mother. She shook the image away and removed herself from Mrs. Page's embrace.
"See you in two weeks," Addie said. The moment Mrs. Page disappeared into the store, Addie fell exasperatedly into her chair and looked up at the sky, exhaling heavily. There were no stars—too much light pollution from the city. She unraveled the wadded up twenty in her hand and stared down at the face of Andrew Jackson. Twenty should be enough to the get the ingredients she needed to make that pie she had been dreaming about all night.
Something had to give the pie a little extra kick though. Something that the judges wouldn't be expecting…maybe caramel? Caramel infused apples baked into a traditional apple pie recipe. That could be something worth first place. Or maybe she could do something with cinnamon, or possibly something combining cherries and apples…after all, what could be better than combining two classic favorites?
"…Addie?" Roscoe's voice kicked her from her internal debate. Addie hastily shoved the twenty into her satchel. Roscoe had a strict no tipping policy to prevent some tellers from making more than others on any given night since some tellers had clientele with deeper pockets, so to speak.
"Y-ye-yes? Oh, hello—hi, Roscoe," Addie spluttered the words. Standing next to Roscoe was a rather skeptical looking man with chestnut brown hair and green eyes. He looked a little rough around the edges to say the least.
Dean raised an eyebrow as Roscoe introduced him to the young woman who he had seen just moments shove a twenty -dollar bill into her purse. He had to bite his tongue as he watched her fluster in front of her boss. There was no way Roscoe didn't see her less than graceful thievery. Dean had a feeling the only reason Roscoe didn't address it was because this chick was good at her job. He'd seen that before.
"Addie," the young woman said, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you."
"Richard," Dean said, plastering a million dollar smile on his face. This was going to be a piece of cake.
"I'll give you two some space," Roscoe said, putting his hand on Addie's shoulder. Dean noticed him grip it tightly and Addie wince slightly. Ehh…maybe no matter how good you were, you knew better than to take tips.
Addie gestured to Dean to take a seat. As he sat down, Dean noticed the strange etching in the wood of the table. Some were symbols he was familiar with and others he had never seen before.
"What's all this?" he asked as Addie pushed the crystal ball to the middle of the table and removed the purple cloth.
"It's warding," she responded coolly. "It's for our protection. Now, what can I do for you?"
"You know, I'm not a mind reader or anything, but I think you weren't supposed to pocket that twenty."
"I'm sorry, I have no idea what you're talking about."
"Okay, kid, whatever you say," Dean leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. "So let me ask you this, Addie, what's your go-to? Body language? That's what I think your coworker is using over there on my brother." He nodded his head towards where Sam and Rosie were sitting. Addie inwardly groaned as she watched Rosie flourish her hands around the crystal ball all while keeping a watchful eye on the man in front of her.
"I use the inner eye," Addie mumbled. That's what Roscoe told her to say when someone asked her how she did her craft. She heard Richard snort and watched him as he ran his hand through his hair. Dean watched a scowl spread across Addie's features.
"Look, if you just came here to make fun—" she began.
"No, no, I'm sorry," Dean interrupted. "Really, I am. Let's start over, you know, on the right foot this time. Hi, I'm Richard." He stretched his hand out for another handshake. Addie looked at it skeptically and then back at his face. He was rather good looking, for being rough around the edges. Richard gave off the aura of someone who has probably spent most of his life charming women.
"Your name isn't Richard," Addie said nonchalantly. She watched him closely. This guy was good; whether his name was or wasn't Richard, he wasn't giving himself away.
"Oh yeah?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow and leaning across the table. Her watchful gaze hadn't gone unnoticed—neither had her obvious awkwardness. Dean suspected that this girl didn't see very much action on the dating front.
"Yeah," Addie said. This time, she leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms across her chest. "And believe me, I appreciate the whole fake name bit, but I don't understand why you would feel the need to lie to me. I don't know you, you don't know me, we'll never see each other again after this, so why the front?"
Addie leaned forward and faced Dean squarely across the table, "Actually, you know what? I don't care. So what are we doing tonight? Fortune telling? Using the crystal ball? Having a séance? It's your call, Richard."
"To be honest I don't want to deal with any of those things tonight. I just want to have an honest, wholesome conversation with you, if you could give me that?" Dean smirked and leaned one arm on the table; turning on the charm.
"A conversation? Dude, you know I'm not a prostitute, right?
"What? What are you-? Of course I know you're not a prostitute," Dean spluttered. He rolled his eyes and sighed. This might be harder than he thought. "Look, kid, my brother and I…we're not from around here, but we've heard stories, you know? If you could just help me out—I'll give you a little something extra to add to that twenty you're hiding." He winked at her, praying this time the promise of some extra cash would seduce her.
"How much?"
"Seriously?"
"Seriously."
With a grunt, Dean pulled out his wallet. Addie smacked his hand, "Not out in the open, dummy!" She hissed and nodded towards where Roscoe was standing, chatting with a customer who had just left one of the tables. Dean scowled as he thumbed through the bills in his wallet—typical phony—draining a man for all he's worth.
Dean leaned across the table and placed a wad of cash in Addie's hand. She counted it under the table. Dean saw her eyes light up as she counted out the one hundred dollars. As she stashed the money in her purse, Addie hit her head against the top of the table. Dean heard her curse silently and rolled his eyes—Sam was going to be pissed he wasted a hundred bucks.
Addie grinned at him and pulled her chair closer to Dean. Her eyes were brimming with excitement as she pulled the crystal ball in between them.
"Okay, Richard," she added for emphasis. "What do you want to know?"
Author's Note:
Thank you to everyone who has been reading, following, and favoriting this story! I apologize for the late update, but I hope you enjoy it! Please remember to review! Seriously…reviewing can only make things better! :D