Chapter 3 Small packages, big trouble
Sam sat at his computer hunting for some clue as to the origins of the grizzly mutt.
What he found was a surprise. "Hey Dean listen to this: Dr. Rayna Wilson, renowned scientist and gene therapist missing. Speaking at a conference in Dallas her assistant reported her missing when she failed to show up for dinner. The police fear foul play but have no evidence in the case."
"Gene therapist," Dean swore softly. Was she a victim in this – or the perpetrator?
"What have you got on the scientist," Dean queried.
"Nothing that gives us a clue to her whereabouts or thought processes, the only things I can find seems to indicate she's led a pretty normal life. For the last ten years she's been working at John Hopkins. She seems dedicated to her work, no husband, no kids, and no close family that I can find. What are you thinking?"
"I'm not sure," Dean answered, "but my gut tells me she's involved in this somehow."
A quick knock at the door startled the hunters. They jumped at the sound pulling weapons and pointing them in the direction of the sound.
Before they could ask who was there a semi-familiar voice called out in amusement, "Tea and cookies."
Dean stuffed the Glock he had pulled back into his duffel bag and mouthing the word "Sheriff" to his brother.
Supernatural creatures didn't usually knock, but both hunters were exhausted and had overreacted - slightly. Sam's lips twisted into a wry grin before taking a deep breath and stashing his weapon. He pasted a grin on his face and crossed to the door opening it slowly. The sheriff stood waiting. She held a tray with two mugs, a steaming pot of tea and a dish piled high with cookies.
Sam took the tray when the sheriff offered and set it down on the small table across the room.
"They really are good guys you should try them," Melisandra offered. Her gaze flickered from one brother to the other. Her smile dimmed when she felt the electricity in the air. She could almost hear their hearts pounding in their chests. 'What the hell was up with these two,' she wondered. They were certainly on edge, but they did look tired, exhausted might have been a better word.
"Thanks," Sam offered carefully, not sure what else to say.
"My aunt will be heartbroken if you don't at least try the cookies. I'd never hear the end of it, and then I'd have to take you downtown for inadvertently harassing a police office?"
Hidden away unseen by even her sister a little pixie threw a pinch of blue dust into the air and made a wish.
Dean's eyes snapped to the cookies then back to the Sheriff. A tiny smile tilted the corners of his mouth. Mischief lit his eyes as looked at her. His voice low and husky he took a step toward her. He didn't know what possessed him but he couldn't stop himself from saying, "You could take me down anytime sheriff."
Sam nearly choked when he heard his brother speak.
Melisandra smiled – a sleek sexy smile that made Sam blush to the roots of his hair. Dean smirked when she licked her lips hungrily and stepped toward him. Her eyes promised him many things. Desire for him burned in her veins.
"I haven't had a good take down in months, don't tempt me." Melisandra pressed her body against his, her hands sliding up his thigh to the front of his jeans. Her fingers brushed the zipper. Her voice low and husky she whispered in his ear, "Play with fire and you might get burned."
"Burn baby burn," he fired back quietly.
"Get a room you two," Sam snipped, "and not this one!"
Melisandra's low chuckle sent a shiver down Dean's back. Maybe he was playing with fire but this woman would set him ablaze if he was tempted – and god help him – he was tempted. She was a flame drawing him close, his skin burned where her hand had touched. Pulsing desire flared in his groin, a desire he could not understand or control
Slowly she stepped back unwilling or maybe unable to take her eyes from his, he didn't know. Hell she was prolly playing him for all he knew, but the heat had been there, lighting his desire if not hers. Shit he needed a cold shower.
Sam's words had snapped Melisandra back to reality. The pixie dust spell was broken, but the lingering warmth remained. Wrapping what was left of her pride around her Melisandra hurried from the room.
Seconds later only the brothers stood in the silent room once more, "What the hell was that," Sam snapped.
Outside the door Melisandra stood in wonderment, what the hell had come over her? Whatever had hit her had flared bright and hot, sending waves of searing heat and desire coursing through her body. Shaking her head she quickly walked down the hall and out the door – barely waving an acknowledgement to her aunt as she climbed into the truck. She was going to stay as far away from that one as she could. She didn't need the distraction.
Lost in thought Dean's head snapped up at his brothers words. "I'm not sure," Dean breathed slowly.
"YOU'RE NOT SURE! Jeez Dean, she's the sheriff for cripe sakes."
Without another word Dean spun on his heels and headed for the bathroom.
Buttercup fumed – but she had recognized something in Melisandra and dared not play her tricks.
Periwinkle giggled softly loving the tortured look on her sister's face.
The second the sheriff had walked into the room Buttercup had darted behind the bed. This human was different – her presence alone made the little pixie nervous. Wary she remained hidden until Melisandra left the room. Hunting for Periwinkle she saw her tiny flickering light hiding behind the other bed.
Her voice low and furious she glared at her sister, "You shouldn't have done that Peri, she scared me."
"You are such a baby," Periwinkle sniped.
"I'm not," Buttercup pouted. "You just don't understand."
"And I don't want too," Periwinkle snapped.
After their showers, one of them icy cold the hunters lay sprawled across their beds. They slept the sleep of the dead for several hours getting some much needed rest. It was dark when the hunters finally stirred.
Hours later the Pixies were bored and that usually meant trouble. Buttercup took her ire out on Sam who made the mistake of leaving his laptop open on the table. Periwinkle – devious creature that she was headed out the door.
Sam was the first to wake. Dressed in faded jeans and a dark green t-shirt his face freshly scrubbed he sat down in front of the computer. Pressing the keys to log in he swore softly when the computer went to blue screen.
When the computer finally came back up the bottle of water he held to his lips dropped from numb – shocked fingers. He swore and loudly, "Dean," he screamed angrily.
Dean came flying out of the bathroom, his hand reaching for the Glock buried in his duffel bag. His eyes searched the room hunting the demon he was certain was there attacking his brother. He found nothing, except his younger brother sitting at the table staring at his computer. "What the hell did you scream for," he groused. "I thought you were dying in here you."
"Why the hell did you delete all my files," the young hunter shouted as he jumped from the chair to face his brother.
"What the hell are you talking about," Dean snapped angrily. "I didn't touch your damned computer."
"My files, ever damn one of them is gone. Every hunt we've been on, what we did to get rid of the creatures, everything."
"Everything," Dean answered quietly heading for the computer.
"No not everything, all your stuff is still there, but mine is gone. How could you do this Dean," Sam snarled his voice growing louder with each word. "Grow up - this shit - its beyond childish, it just isn't funny?"
"You think I did this," Dean growled menacingly?
"Yeah Dean I do, it's the stupid kind of trick you'd play. How could you be so stupid?"
"Stupid, is that what you think I am," Dean snarled?
The words slipped from his mouth, anger overriding common sense when he fired back his finger poking Dean in the chest. "Yeah Dean I do."
Any other comment was lost as he stared at the yellow smudge on his brother's t-shirt. "What the hell," he muttered as he pulled his hands up and turned them over. His fingertips were bright yellow with some kind of dust or pollen.
Dean balled his fists and opened his mouth. Anger warred with pain at his brother's words. He decided instead to walk away.
In the corner of the room sitting on the lampshade the pixies sat watching. This was supposed to be fun – but her little prank had turned out all wrong. Buttercup sighed with sorrow, her human wasn't laughing. The hurt bewilderment on his face almost made her cry.
His voice low and filled with the pain he had just inflicted on his brother, Sam stared at his hands and whispered, "I'm sorry!" What the hell was going on?
Dean heard the words, but chose to ignore them. Sam's words had cut deep, deeper than he'd thought possible. He never would have touched his computer. Sam had to know that? Little Sammy had changed and in Dean's mind it wasn't a good change.