I hope you are enjoying it - its been a bear to write but its almost done.
Usual disclaimers go here - don't own, don't make no money - schucks!
Spoilers: None that I can think of
Please R&R, thanks
Chapter 4 Discovery
They were barely talking to each other when a few hours later, in need of cash the brothers were on the move hunting for a pool hall and a sucker to hustle. Sam was the first one out the door
"Hey Dean, where'd you park," Sam growled. "Hell did you go out while I was sleeping?"
"What the hell are you talking about Sam; the car is right where I left it. Open your eyes its right in front of the door."
"Oh Shit!" was all Dean heard as he stepped outside. His eyes went wide with disbelief.
Sam's first instinct was to run. A few seconds later he'd wished he had.
"My car, what the hell did you do to my car?" Dean was furious. His beautiful black 67 Impala – muscle car was now blue, but not just any blue – it was tie-dyed in radiant hues of blue ranging from baby to periwinkle and everything in between. Whoever had done it hadn't stopped at the outside. The leather seats were now a deep rich royal blue.
'It's not a bad color,' Sam mumbled to himself, smiling beneath his breath.
Fury swept through the hunter as he stared at his car. "I'm gonna kill you Sammy," he swore roundly. Seconds later he said it louder as he turned to face his brother, "I'm gonna kill you!"
Sam backpedaled. "Dean I swear I didn't do this," the younger hunter supplied in confusion. "I was with you the whole time. It wasn't me!"
Dean voice was low and quiet, too quiet, "You had something to do with this."
"Dammit Dean, how many times do I have to tell you I didn't do it. What about my computer huh," Sam raged.
"I had nothing to do with that," Dean yelled back.
"Oh right, and how is it that all your files were intact and only mine were deleted," Sam snarled
"You still think I did it," Dean asked quietly.
"Well it wasn't the tooth fairy," Sam growled back.
Little did they know how close Sam's words were to the truth.
He paced back and forth never taking his eyes off the Impala. "What the hell is going on Sam? If you didn't do this than who or what did," Dean growled.
"Remember back in the woods when that branch hit you," Sam asked cautiously?
Rubbing his chest Dean's eyes narrowed, "Yeah I remember."
"When I looked at my hand there was blue dust where it itched. As soon as I blew it off the itch went away. On the keyboard of my computer I found yellow dust."
"Blue dust, yellow dust, what the hell has that got to do with anything?"
"I don't know yet, but I'm almost positive it's the cause of all the trouble."
"Yeah well when you figure it out, let me know.
Dean stared at his now blue car. It just wasn't right, tie-dyed blue on his 67 Impala was down right disturbing, "Sacrilegious," he grumbled.
Throwing the keys to Sam he mumbled, "You drive."
Sam shook his head in amusement, "Whoever had done it sure knew how to push his brothers' buttons. Fingering the keys he opened the door and slid behind the wheel watching Dean closely. His face was a picture of dejection, his eyes hurt and bewildered as he gingerly sat on the blue leather. Sam deeply regretted their earlier words, he just didn't think his brother was ready to accept a genuine apology but he had to try.
"Sorry I called you stupid, I was just mad about…
Cutting him off Dean snapped, "Shut up!"
Sam sighed, Dean hadn't accepted his apology, if he had he would have followed the expletive with 'bitch, or jerk'. Instead the two words were harsh and unforgiving and hung in the air between them.
Hovering in the back seat Buttercup glared at her sister promising dire retribution. Periwinkle grinned.
Pulling out of the parking lot Sam turned the car north heading for the highway. The waitress had mentioned a little pool hall a few miles up the road and that's where the brothers headed.
Their cash was running low. Their credit cards were about maxed out. 'Hustling' - no Sam corrected himself. 'Playing pool for money' was about all they had left, and Dean was good, damn good and rarely lost.
There certainly wasn't much money in hunting ghosts and goblins. Hell most people didn't even know the creatures existed, much less willing to pay to get rid of them.
The brothers were silent on the short drive up the highway trying to wrap their minds around a blue Impala and blue and yellow dust.
The evening would prove to be just as bothersome as the afternoon.
The waitress had described the bar to a T – it was a dive – but it was the only game in town unless they wanted to drive another thirty miles. Neither of the hunters did.
It was called the Rattlesnake Pit. The owner was a rather outlandish individual dressed in leather. He was a big man well over six feet tall and weighed in at three hundred plus pounds. He had a tank set up along one wall with a myriad of rattlesnakes on display, hence the name.
Sam hoped the glass was unbreakable even bulletproof as he looked at the rough crowd gathered in the room. A smoky haze hung above the crowded room and Sam wrinkled his nose in disgust.
They didn't see her sitting in the corner of the room. Hidden in the shadows, her hair hanging loose around her face and down across her shoulders the sheriff watched them come through the door. She groaned silently and slid even farther into the shadows. Caught up in avoiding the hunters, Dean in particular she didn't see the flickering lights that followed the brothers into the room. When she did she nearly choked with laughter.
Beneath the spit and polish of the sheriff's uniform, Melisandra was a believer and possibly Fae. She'd never wanted it – but had seen too many things to disbelieve in it now. She had come to terms with her so called 'gift' though few others knew.
The brothers were being pestered by a couple of fairies. No they weren't exactly fairies, their bodies were too plump their faces more pixie than fairy – but they had wings and pixie's didn't have wings, did they?
How interesting. Melisandra thought in amusement. Sighing she watched from the shadows thinking, oh but pixies could be trouble and this pair was no exception. Licking her lips she remembers the encounter in the brother's room – Pixie Mischief she realized. How droll!
Pixies lived for one thing – fun! The mischief they caused had broken more than one man's mind and heart. They were selfish and self-centered. Everything was about them, and god help anyone who got in their way. Melisandra groaned.
On the far side of the room stood four pool tables two were in use. Ordering beers from a passing waitress Dean smiled widely and pointed.
They made their way across the room to an empty pool table. It was a little after nine and the place was filling up fast. Two of the four pool tables were already in use. Dean watched from the corner of his eye assessing likely candidates. Some of the players were good, but he knew none could match his skills.
They played three games. Dean controlled himself. Aware of Sam's limited skills and if he showed off too much, the marks across the room wouldn't be lured into a game.
By the end of the third game the bar was packed, the pool tables full.
"I'm going for a beer want anything," the younger hunter offered. Picking up his beer Dean swirled it around noting it was almost empty. "One more can't hurt," Dean replied.
Sam chuckled, knowing his brother wasn't going to stop at one more.
A young man, barely out of his teens, strolled across the room and smacked a twenty down on the pool table. "You up for a game," he asked? His stance was arrogant, supremely confident. He didn't know it but he was about to be taken down a notch.
Dean strung him along, loosing the first game, luring him into a second then a third, beating him only marginally with each successive game. They parted amicably four games later. Dean now two hundred bucks up.
Sam had long since given up watching the game. His eyes were on the TV set above the bar, where the latest UT game was being replayed to a captive audience. What was it about the University of Texas football team that made people in Central Texas so crazy? He didn't know and he wasn't really interested in finding out.
It was nearing two am when he returned to the table. He was tired, his shoulder still ached and he wanted the comfort of a nice warm bed. It took him a minute to catch Dean's eyes. His brother was smiling – always a good sign.
Standing a few feet from the table Sam smiled when the waitress tapped him on the shoulder. Smiling he stepped forward, his hip coming close to the pool table as he let the waitress pass. Her hand lingered on his butt.
Startled Sam looked down straight into her wild, wanting eyes. He jumped sideways avoiding the hand that moved around his hip toward the zipper at the front of his jeans, choking back a laugh as she continued to pursue him.
Pixies had been quiet for too long, they were bored. Flitting from one table to another they had tested every drink they could find. Beer and wine were good, although some of the frothy foo foo drinks were quite delightful.
One lady patron had ordered Amaretto on the rocks. Buttercup was in heaven, and tasting the brown liquid had become an obsession.
Periwinkle was lusting after Peppermint Schnapps. The bartender had been magically lured into leaving the cap off the bottle, Periwinkle made free with the potent liquor. Zipping in and out of the bottle until her head swam.
At 2 am the Pixies were feeling good. Dizzy and disoriented they sprinkled pixie dust around the room. Somehow they managed to miss the Sheriff and the two hunters.
Emotions were running high. Ladies of discrimination (though they were few and far between in the run down bar) became wild wenches – dancing on table tops as they flirted outrageously with every man in sight. Pieces of clothing were strewn about across the floor and tables a few even hung from the slowly moving ceiling fans. The place looked more like a bordello than a bar.
The Sheriff looked on in wonder. The patron's were getting wilder with each passing minute. Pixie mischief ruled! She needed to put a stop to it and soon.
Near the pool table Sam's leap from searching hands brought him in contact with the corner of the table. His right hip brushed it gently, barely caressing the dark wood. But it was enough to make the big man look up.
"What the hell you doing boy – you ruined my shot!"
Sam turned to face him, going from mild mannered college student to raging bull in the blink of an eye.
Periwinkle hovered above his head, blue wings flicking pixie dust in all directions. "Hey you can't talk to my human like that," she shrieked. No one heard her. Anger and indignation floated on the wind as did a touch of blue Pixie dust. Sam became the helpless recipient.
He spun to face the big man, anger simmering below the surface. "Give it up dog breath – you couldn't hit the broad side of a barn with a ten foot pole even if it you were standing two feet away," Sam taunted.
"Why you little punk," the man shrieked.
The big man swung a meaty fist toward Sam's head, but the young hunter rolled away laughing.
"Waaa," Sam taunted mimicking a babies cry, "Told ya!"
Across the table Dean had been surveying the wildly animated room while he waited for his next shot. Free spirited almost naked women were everywhere. The place was out of control, just the way he liked it.
Somehow Sam's words penetrated his dazed mind. By that time it was too late. The big man's friends waded into the fray, wanting - no needing to do some damage. Dean growled and willingly obliged. Fists flew in all directions. The hunters were outnumbered three to one but it would be a toss up as to who fared worse – locals or hunters.
A booted foot crashed into Dean's left side sending him crashing into the pool table. He couldn't stop himself from sliding across the top of a table and crashing to the floor. He spun away as three massive bodies prepared to jump him.
Same fared little better. The big man's fist had finally connected. The bruising blow had jerked the young hunter off his feet. He flew sideways landing face first on the top of the nearest pool table. Huge hands dragged him across the top of the table before tossing him onto the floor.
Caught up in the sight, Melisandra was amazed by the chaos in the room. A rough tap on her shoulder brought her back to reality.
"Aren't you going to do anything Sheriff," the big man groaned, "Their tearing my place up?"
Leaning back against the wall Melisandra's eyes twinkled with mischief. "Not my jurisdiction Jimmy you know that, but I could call the state police if you want. She kept a straight face as she watched the free for all progress from yelling and screaming to a full blown knock down drag out fight.
"Please sheriff you got to do something, before they wreck the place, please," he pleaded?
This was pixie mischief. Watching them had been the best part. Balled up fists flew in rhythm with the brothers. The boys fought a good fight with six big guys arrayed against them. In the end, even with the pixies help – if that's what you could call it – the brothers were bruised and battered.
When the revelers got a little too close to the rattlesnake cage, Melisandra decided enough was enough. The glass was thick and it would be hard to break but not impossible. Deadly snakes crawling amongst the patrons would be a nightmare.
Melisandra stood. Gathering the power within her she directed her voice at the tipsy fighting Pixies.
"Enough," her voice boomed silently. "Come to me," she commanded them.
The Pixies could not avoid the command. Their bodies stiffened reluctantly, but they heeded the command and flew across the room to do her bidding.
The little duo weren't the only ones to hear the command. Although they couldn't understand what was happening Sam and Dean snapped to attention their heads swiveling toward the sound.
Melisandra saw it, her eyes widening in amazement.
Dean was startled to see the Sheriff standing in the corner of the room. Her stance was supremely confident and she seemed bigger than life – a hazy green aura surrounded her. "Who was she really," he wondered.
Distracted by the call Dean took a punch to the kidneys before he could protect himself. Sam fared worse, he took two blows one to the chin a second to the stomach before he could retaliate.
The call not meant for them was forgotten as the battle raged on.
Although she wanted to laugh at the angry arrogant looks on the pixie's faces, she didn't. Instead she projected her disappointment to them. "You two have caused a great deal of trouble here tonight. Stop this now or face my wrath," she warned them.
The Pixies saw what the other in the room could not. The green aura surrounding the Sheriff was tinged with fiery threads in red and gold. Power pulsed around the tall imposing figure.
She could feel the rebellion welling up inside them and Melisandra let a little of her anger show through. She could destroy them with a thought if she so desired and they knew it.
The Pixies swallowed their anger, their eyes widened in something akin to fear. Their little head nodded in unison.
"And leave the brothers alone!"
"I will not," Buttercup fired back. "He's mine and I won't give him up."
Melisandra did not show her surprise, but instead warned the little pixie, "Then you should take better care of him, your mischief here tonight has caused him great pain."
Buttercup turned to face Dean, sorrow and worry written on her tiny face. Tiny teeth nipped at her yellow and pink tinged lips. A split lip and a myriad of bruises were the only visible signs, but she winced as she saw two men hammer at him from behind.
Melisandra looked on in amazement. This was a rather unusual development. Pixies cared about one thing and one thing only, self-gratification. The myriad of emotions flitting across the little face surprised her. Oh but this was a problem she had not foreseen.
Could a Pixie really care for a human? Time would tell. She didn't know how long the brothers intended to stay but she decided to let the situation play itself out. She would intervene only if the Pixie got too carried away. She groaned silently knowing she would have to spend more time with Dean than was good for her sanity. Pixie magic or no – the attraction had been real
"Off with you both. Make everyone happy again," Melisandra whispered.
Glad to be let off so easily, the two Pixies sighed with relief. "Yes, happy," both pixies giggled before streaking off around the room.
Pixies and pixie dust were spent by the time the task was done. Yellow and blue dust coated the room. In a few minutes the whole room was laughing and giggling about their strange and uncontrolled behavior.
Sam and Dean were a little worse for the encounter, but in the end the big man had laughed at his loss and apologized for starting the fight, he even invited Dean back for a rematch. The hunter grinned and vowed never to step foot into the bar again, but nodded his assent to the big man shaking his hand in bewilderment. The fight had ended as quickly as it had begun. Another – 'what the hell is going on,' crossed Dean's mind?
The locals walked away happy for some unknown reason. Their bloodlust cooled by yellow and blue dust.
Dean groaned and picked himself up. Finding his bottle of beer sitting unscathed on the end of the pool table, Dean smiled wryly. Buttercup had remembered his words from earlier in the day and had managed to save his beer.
He downed the frothy brew in one long swig before gathering his bruised body together and heading out the door.
Sam went limping through the door beside him, gently licking blood from his own split lip.
Their eyes searched for the tie-dyed blue Impala. Coming to an abrupt halt, their feet kicking up gravel as they spied the car.
"Did we dream the whole thing," Dean asked cautiously?
Sam's mouth was open, his jaw working but no sound came out.
Walking forward Dean gently caressed the front fender of the now black Impala. Not a hint of blue anywhere in sight, he heaved a sigh of relief. "I'm just going to pretend nothing happened," he spluttered softly.
"Good idea," Sam whispered haltingly from beside him.