Thanks for the reviews! You guys rock!

Many thanks to Bayre, my awesome beta!

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Jambalaya's was a quiet little café tucked away in a tiny alcove a couple of blocks from the motel Dean and Sam were staying at. Upon entering, Sam saw there were only a few couples scattered around the eatery. Tastefully decorated in beiges and reds, the café featured trinkets and artwork from the Cajun culture which decorated every available inch of the walls. Little crawfish stenciling decorated the top borders and the floor was a dark hardwood that was scuffled, hinting the small restaurant saw many patrons daily.

Sam scanned the crowd until his eyes came to rest on a lone woman in the back of the room, nestled in a red vinyl booth. He quickly made his way towards her and smiled as he looked down at her. "Hey."

Maggie smiled. "Hey…I was beginning to wonder if you got lost."

"Nah, I decided to walk and take in the night life." He took a seat in the booth across from her.

"What do you think of it?"

Sam chuckled. "It's a little crazy."

Maggie nodded as she smiled. "It's takes a little getting used to."

"It seems like everyone likes to have a good time around here."

"It's really not this exciting once you get out of the French Quarter."

"I guess I'm just in awe of it," Sam admitted. "I mean, it's August and there's parades going on out there."

Maggie laughed. "Yeah, we've never quite grasped the concept that Mardi Gras is in February; we believe it should be celebrated any time of the year." She leaned forward in her seat and dropped her voice to a whisper. "If I can give you a little advice, don't raise your shirt while you're here."

"Why's that?"

"It's an open invitation to get pelted with beads. You raise your shirt, you're gonna get hit."

"I'll have to remember that."

The waitress, a petite woman with short graying brown hair, walked up to the table, pad and pen poised. "You kids know what you want?" There was no use denying she had a southern accent.

Maggie folded her menu and handed it to the woman. "I'll take the seafood gumbo." She glanced at Sam. "It's the best gumbo in the city."

Sam nodded and also handed his menu over. "No way I can miss out on that—I'll have the same."

The woman scribbled furiously on the pad. "And what would you like to drink?"

"Sweet tea," they both answered.

"All right—I'll be right back with your drinks." She left the two alone as she rushed off to put in their orders.

"Listen, Maggie…I really want to apologize for my partner earlier. He's normally not like that; I don't know what got into him."

Maggie shrugged. "It's okay. I know he was just doing his job and I realize how suspicious it sounds since I knew both Carlie and Brad. I would have assumed the same thing."

"It's just, Dean…he means well, he really does. When he gets onto a story, he likes to make sure he has everything before he goes forward. He really didn't mean what he said to you."

Maggie put a hand on Sam's arm. "It's okay, Sam, really. I've handled tougher guys than your partner."

Sam smiled. Somehow he figured the young woman in front of him really could handle his brother, and any other guy for that matter. She didn't seem the type who was easily pushed, she fought with everything she had. Like Jess and Sarah…

The waitress came back to the table, holding two large glasses of sweet tea. She set them down on the table and then scurried back to the kitchen.

Sam took a sip of the tea, allowing the sweet liquid to slowly make its way down his throat. "So…you told me you wanted to talk."

"You really know how to get down to business," Maggie teased. Sam felt his cheeks grow warm as she continued. "What did you need to know?"

"You and Brad…how serious were you?"

"We were pretty damn serious. We were together three years, did you know that?"

"Mitch told us."

"What else did Mitch tell you about me?"

"Nothing much. He just said you and Brad were going in different directions—Brad wanted to settle down, but you weren't ready to."

Maggie smiled sadly. "He wanted to get married, but I wasn't ready to do that. I think that's kind of what set him off, made him break up with me."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Sam felt a pang in his chest. He remembered he too, was ready to ask Jess to marry him, was shopping around for rings. But he never got the chance to ask, kept putting it off, and then she was taken from him. Sam felt a sense of guilt follow him wherever he went, just knowing how close he'd been to settling down with the woman he loved most in the world, until his other life, the one he'd chosen to keep hidden, came back to knock him down.

"What are you thinking about?" Maggie asked, watching him.

Sam slightly shook his head. "It's nothing."

"What was her name?"

"Who?"

"The woman you're thinking about right now."

"How did you—"

"Know? It's just something a woman can sense. So, do you want to talk about it?"

Sam's brows furrowed as he considered. He really didn't know this woman sitting in front of him, didn't know if he could trust her. Yet there was something calling out to him, telling him he could. Maybe it was the way she was looking at him or the way she was willing to lend an ear, to hear what he had to say, he didn't know. But something was telling him otherwise, telling him to talk to her, to let her in. It was something he didn't do; he'd only let Dean into his life, into his thoughts. He hadn't even let Jess in on everything concerning him and his life, but he was wiling to throw that aside to let Maggie in and he couldn't figure out why.

"Her name was Jess," he heard himself say. "I was going to ask her to marry me."

"It didn't work out?"

"You could say that."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, I am too," Sam said softly.

Maggie shook her head. "I never meant to bring up bad memories. I've just always been curious about people and sometimes it gets the better of me."

"It's okay."

"No, it isn't," Maggie said. "We're supposed to be talking about Brad and Carlie, and here I am asking about something personal. So, let's just move on."

"It really doesn't bother me to talk about it," Sam said. He leaned back in his seat as the waitress came over and delivered their seafood gumbo to them. They ate in relative silence during the duration of the meal. Finally, after not being able to eat anymore, Sam sat back in his seat and glanced at Maggie.

"What is it?" Maggie asked. "Do I have something on my face?"

"No," Sam laughed. "It's nothing."

Maggie wiped her face anyway then put the napkin down. "Okay, so I know I said I wasn't going to ask anymore about your personal life, but I just can't stay away."

"What would you like to know?"

"You and Dean…you're not really reporters, are you?"

Sam looked at Maggie, surprised. How in the world was she able to figure that out? Were he and Dean getting so careless they couldn't even pull off a decent cover story? Did he let it slip at some point during their meal?

"I'm sorry, I'm doing it again," Maggie said, holding up a hand.

"No, you're not," Sam said. "I just thought we were more convincing than that."

"Actually, you were pretty convincing. I've just always been good at reading people."

Sam nodded, feeling a little bit better. He was glad to know he and Dean hadn't flat out blown their cover, but he didn't like that he was so easily readable either. He usually did pretty well at hiding his feelings, except from Dean. Dean was the only person in the world who could truly know what Sam was feeling and why, and the same went for Dean. Dean had this unbelievable ability to put up a wall to shield himself from everyone, except for Sam.

"So, if you're not reporters, then what are you?"

"Brothers," Sam said, then mentally slapped himself. What the hell was he doing blurting this out to her for? What the hell was going on to make him drop his guard around Maggie and open up to her like this? Dean would surely have his neck if he found out Sam was telling Maggie about them. But for some reason he couldn't stop himself. It was almost as if something was making him open up to her and he didn't like it, but he couldn't stop it, either.

"So, I was right back at the apartment."

"Yeah."

"What are you two doing then? Why are you so interested in Carlie and Brad?"

"Dean and I, we think something else may be going on around here."

"What do you mean?"

"Something weird. That's what Dean and I do—we look into things that aren't easily explained—supernatural things."

Maggie chuckled uncomfortably. "You're going to have to explain this one to me."

"You know the things your parents told you weren't real when you were a kid?"

"What, like the Boogeyman?"

"Exactly, not to mention ghosts, demons, and other creatures that go bump in the night. That's what we do—we stop these things. We go after the things that make up your worst nightmares."

"Wow," Maggie said softly.

Sam nodded, sure he'd managed to scare the young woman away. There was no way she would stick around now, no one would if they were sane. What he and Dean did, it wasn't something people were used to hearing or believing in. To tell a person those things actually existed, that their parents lied to them when they were younger would make anyone run screaming for the nearest exit.

"You think something like this happened to Carlie and Brad?" Maggie finally asked.

"Along with two other people," Sam answered.

"That's just…wow." Maggie nodded and grabbing her glass of tea, took a long sip. "What will you and Dean do?"

"Research it, see if there's anything supernatural involved with the deaths."

"Okay."

Sam brought his hand up and put it over Maggie's, giving it a comforting squeeze. "I'm sorry I freaked you out, that was never my intention."

"No, no…I mean, I asked. I should be a little more careful what I ask for. I guess this will teach me," she added with a nervous laugh.

Just then the waitress came back and delivered their check. Taking their empty bowls, she quickly left the two alone once again. "Listen, Dean and I are going to be in town for a few days and if I haven't managed to scare you away, I really would like to get together again."

Maggie looked at Sam and he could see she was really considering her answer. Finally she smiled and said, "That would be great."

Sam smiled, relieved. "Great." He dug into his back pocket and pulling out his wallet, he counted out some money. Maggie was about to protest, but Sam just held up his hand, silencing her. "It's the least I can do after freaking you out like I did."

"Thank you."

Sam slid out of the booth. "I need to get back to the motel before Dean gets there and starts freaking. Would you like for me to walk you home?"

Maggie shook her head. "I'm going to hang around here a little longer. One of my friends gets off work soon and she wanted to meet up."

"Okay." Sam leaned down and kissed her on the cheek. "I had a nice time."

Maggie smiled. "So, did I."

"Bye, Maggie."

"Bye, Sam."

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Dean smiled appreciatively as the tiny raven-haired beauty beside him slowly sipped on her fruity alcoholic drink. His gaze swept up and down her body and he wasn't disappointed at all or trying to hide the fact he was checking her out. She was dressed provocatively, yet conservatively, revealing just the right amount of skin—her denim skirt came just low enough for the imagination to do all the work and the black tank top she wore showed her breasts off just perfectly.

"You know…I usually don't mind an audience, but I think you're being just a little too obvious."

Dean nearly choked on his beer. "I'm sorry…what?"

The woman smiled at him. "You stare at me anymore and I'm afraid your eyes may dry out."

Dean laughed. "Sorry about that, it's just…"

"Just what?"

"Oh, come on—do I have to spell it out for you? You're hot!"

The woman laughed. "I've never quite had it blurted out to me like that before."

Dean held out his hand. "I'm Dean."

"Sophie."

"Sophie…I like that. So, tell me, Sophie? What are you doing here alone?"

"What makes you think I'm alone?"

"Well, I don't see some beefy guy staking out his territory around you. And no offense, but you seem that type."

"None taken," Sophie said. "And to answer your question, yes, I'm alone. I was tired of sitting around in my apartment so I decided to get out for a little while."

Dean raised his beer. "On behalf on all men everywhere, may I say thank you."

Sophie laughed and tapped her glass against Dean's bottle. They each took a long swig, the sounds of Bob Seger's Against the Wind playing in the background, trying to be heard over the loud chatter of the bar.

"You don't remember me, do you?" Sophie asked.

Dean shook his head, confused. "Should I?"

Sophie sighed. "I guess not…it's been almost two years."

"We've met before?" Dean asked, arching a brow.

Sophie nodded. "Here, as a matter of fact, and I think you tried to stare a hole into me then, too."

"I'm sure I would remember you…I mean, you don't look like the kind of girl a guy can forget."

"Apparently I am if you can't remember me," Sophie pointed out.

"I'm sorry," Dean offered lamely.

"No, don't be. I guess you're just like every other guy I meet. You have only one thing on your mind—get me to bed, leave, and forget."

Dean looked at Sophie, at a loss for words. What was he supposed to say to this girl? Yes, he forgot about her—there was no denying that. There wasn't even a flicker of recognition in his mind to remind him of this girl. And not to be a total ass, but he met a lot of women and out of all of those, he didn't remember 98 of their names. He wasn't looking for a commitment, never had been and most of the women he got with understood that.

Just then the waitress came over with his order. Dean pulled his wallet out of his back pocket and handed the woman a couple of bills. As the woman went off to get his change, he turned his attention back to Sophie. "Look, Sophie, I'm sorry that I don't remember. But you have to realize, if we did hook up, it wasn't meant to be a commitment. It was just a one night fling and if that upsets you, then I'm sorry."

Sophie didn't say anything as the waitress handed Dean his change.

"I don't know what I'm supposed to say to make you feel better."

"You don't have to say anything…I'm sorry I even brought it up," Sophie said softly.

Dean sighed as he realized he was being a total jerk about this. But if he honestly stuck around comforting every single woman he flirted with or got to bed, he'd be there for years on end. Besides, he didn't come to New Orleans to get acquainted with old flings, he had a job to do and he wasn't going to do it sitting in a bar, offering lame excuses.

Taking one last swig of his beer, he grabbed the plastic bag full of food. "I've gotta go."

Turning away from Sophie, Dean walked out of the bar and into the humid August night.

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Sophie Reynolds felt like shit, complete and utter shit. It wasn't everyday she was rejected like she just was and it ate at her. She could count off twenty guys right now who would love a shot at her, but no, she had to go for Dean once again. She should have learned her lesson the last time, but some little part of her hoped he would remember. She'd been thinking of him since that night almost two years ago and when she saw him sitting at the bar, it was almost as if fate was calling to her, beckoning her to him once again.

But then again, fate had a way of screwing with your mind, making you believe something good could happen. With her history, Sophie should have guessed what his response would be. She had a way of leaving a wave of guys in her wake, but dammit, she was memorable. She made sure she gave it all she had and that she made a lasting impression on every guy she brought home. So, why hadn't Dean remembered her?

Deciding she was getting tired of the ruckus around her, Sophie left Ricky's Bar and Grill. She knew where she could go to feel better, where she would be appreciated, take her mind off of Dean. Walking the two blocks quickly while dodging all of the drunk revelers, she pushed through the heavy wooden door of Marley's. Everyone knew Marley's was the place to come to, to take your mind off of a man. The bar was like a safe haven for broken-hearted women to grieve and bitch about what went wrong. There was always some sort of support there, and even if the women were to blame for the failure of the relationship, the other single women in the bar didn't blame them—they blamed the men, which was how it should be.

Sophie found a vacant seat at the bar and quickly strode her way over before the seat could be snagged. Throwing her small clutch on the bar, she ordered a double shot of Jack, not caring how the alcohol would burn her throat as it went down.

"Bad night?"

Sophie turned her head to see another young woman sitting beside her. She had long brown hair and bright green eyes and she was looking at Sophie with concern in her eyes.

"You could say that," Sophie said as the bartender, a portly gentleman with thinning brown hair, slid her drink in front of her. She nodded her thanks and threw her head back, allowing the alcohol to work its magic.

"You wanna talk about it?"

Sophie smiled as the sounds of Carrie Underwood's Before He Cheats floated through the air. "You don't want to hear about my problems."

"Hey, you're among a friend here," the woman said. She held out her hand. "I'm Maggie."

Sophie grabbed the other woman's hand. "Sophie."

Maggie held up her hand and indicated for the bartender to give them another round. "So, Sophie…what seems to be the problem?"

"All guys are complete assholes, right?"

"That seems to be the general consensus in here." The bartender delivered their drinks.

"I met this guy almost two years ago, and we had a great time, right?" Sophie didn't let Maggie answer. "So, I see him again tonight and I'm thinking he has to remember me. I mean, I'm good…really good—I shouldn't be that forgettable." She threw back another shot.

"What girl wants to be forgettable?"

"So, he starts flirting with me, just like he did when we met before, so a little part of me is thinking he remembers me. I ask and guess what?"

"He doesn't remember a damn thing."

"You got that right, he didn't remember a damn thing, didn't even pretend to." Sophie reached over and grabbed Maggie's shot and proceeded to throw that one down. "How shitty is that?"

"Pretty shitty," Maggie agreed.

"I mean, I shouldn't be upset about this. He seems to be the kind of guy who has one-night stands. I guess I was just another name on his list, except he doesn't even remember my name," she added bitterly.

"If you ask me, he's not even worth your time, Sophie. Why waste your time on him?"

"I know I shouldn't, but I'm so tired of it, you know. I'm tired of being the girl guys bang and leave." Sophie sighed. "I just want him to know how it feels. I want him to hurt for once, you know?"

Maggie fingered the rim of her wine glass. "This guy…does he have a name?"

"Winchester…Dean Winchester."