Warning: Swearing in the chapter, and a little visit to a strip club. If it's not your thing… don't worry, they won't be there forever.

Chapter 2: Unexpected Finds

The music thumped in Sam's head and the lights continued to flick over his eyes, making his headache worse. He swore it had begun the moment he set foot in the damn place. Or maybe while they had waited outside. Various disappearances apparently hadn't had much impact on the place's popularity in the city. Probably each disappearance had been too far apart for people to make a general connection.

He was sitting at the bar, pretending to watch his drink while really watching the club via the mirror in front of him. He was trying to ignore the half-naked women dotted around the place, and instead watched the gatherings of men around each stage. Dean was in one of them, not looking half so excited as he had before walking in. But Sam wasn't watching Dean. He was watching the man sitting in a corner sectioned off with diaphanous curtains. He was surrounded by beautiful women and three blocky men that Sam assumed were guards. He was tall but solid, salon-tanned skin, short and curly brown hair with a thin beard lining his jaw. His eyes were dark as well, almost hooded despite a flattish face. Sam knew from his research that that was Isaac Mahone. And from the instant the hunter had laid eyes on him, he hadn't liked him.

Sam sighed, though even he couldn't hear it over the music, and took another sip from his beer. And found it to be empty. Sighing again, he twirled the bottle around his fingers, hoping a barmaid would take her time before coming to him.

He looked up into the mirror, catching Dean's eye. The older man rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the woman on the stage. To Sam's relief no one was stripping yet, and wouldn't for some time. But the woman supposedly occupying Dean's interest was certainly wrapping herself in some… provocative positions.

He shifted his eyes back to Mahone. And frowned before he could help himself. He was sure the man had been watching him. But no, why would Mahone have any interest in him? Unless he did have something to do with the supernatural and knew a hunter when he saw one. He supposed he would find out soon enough.

"Want another one, honey?" a voice suddenly asked. "Or you just planning on spinning it round in your hand?"

Sam looked up at the blonde girl in front of him, plastering a smile on his face. And watched in shock as hers dropped.

She leaned in, over the bar, her voice dropping to a fierce whisper. "What the hell are you doing here, Sam?"

His jaw dropped. Who was she… blonde hair, blue eyes… He recognised her, but he couldn't remember from where. "I know you, don't I?" he said. And felt guilty as her face dropped.

"I know, you haven't seen me in a while… wait, you can see? You can see! Wow, when did you get your sight back?"

He hadn't thought it possible, but his jaw dropped further. Suddenly he recognised her, and leaned further across the counter. "Anya? What the hell are you doing here?"

She scowled at him. "What does it look like, Sam? I'm working."

His eyebrows rose. "This is a far cry from…" He looked around. "From hunting."

She looked almost ready to hit him. "I am on a hunt, moron. Unless you're just here for the décor, I'm guessing it's the same hunt you're on."

He felt himself blush. "Oh. Okay, yeah, that makes sense." Suddenly his eyes narrowed. "How long have you been here?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Two weeks. We arrived a few days after that guy went missing."

"How'd you find out about it so soon?" he asked. Not that he would ever admit it, but his pride was a little wounded. He and Dean prided themselves on being good hunters – after all they had gone through, he doubted they would ever do anything else. Now there was a dampening thought.

She grinned, leaning back slightly. But before she could answer another woman came up, a confident smile on her face. She looked at Sam, suggesting everything and promising nothing with her eyes.

"Keeping all the hotties to yourself there, Charlotte?" the new woman asked. Anya grinned.

"Look at him, Paula. Wouldn't you?"

Sam managed to grin as Paula looked at him, shrugging. He ignored Anya's scowl. "I was just asking… Charlotte, was it? I was asking her for another beer. This one's empty." He twirled it around to prove his point. "We got talking and… hit it off."

Paula smiled. "Ain't that cute. Hang on honey, I'll grab your beer for you. Charlotte, earn some money would you."

The suggestion sounded a lot like a order, and Sam was only a little shocked to watch Anya scurry off. But not before she mouthed some final words at him behind Paula's back.

The woman brought his beer and left. Sam studied the drink for ten minutes, anxiously waiting for the time to pass. Then, as he saw Anya slip out the back, he got off his stool and crossed the room, careful not to let anyone see him following 'Charlotte'.

She was waiting for him with her arms crossed, clearly angry. Whether it was at him or Paula, Sam didn't know, but she did seem to soften when she saw him. Or rather, when she saw him see her.

"How long have you been able to see?" she asked. Sam shrugged, immediately uncomfortable.

"My sight started coming back about two and a half months ago. It's been clear for maybe half that." Only five weeks since his father had died. The thought stung but he held back the grief.

"It's amazing," she muttered softly, almost too softly for him to hear. Louder, she said, "What are you doing here?"

He shrugged. "Same as you. Working a job. Me and Dean have been in town since this morning. A friend of ours found three of the missing people, all in different parts of the country, all killed in different supernatural ways."

She nodded. "We heard of one. And." She gave a weak grin. "We were already here when we heard it. Figured the number of disappearances meant it was worth looking into."

"What have you found out so far?" he asked. "And where's Ash?" He couldn't forget her twin brother. Together they had helped him rescue Dean from Eve and the demons. Saved his life. Of course, he had saved their's as well, so it wasn't like he owed them anything.

Anya was shaking her head. "Not much. Obviously you've already figured out they all had a basic connection to Mahone. And that's why I'm working here. But besides that, we don't have much. The bastard is hard to get to."

Sam nodded. "Well, we should be able to figure out what's going on. If the four of us-."

A sudden bang interrupted him, and they both jumped, spinning to face the door. A middle-aged man had walked through, or stumbled, causing the door to bang against the wall. He blinked up at them, looking from Sam to Anya, who had a disgusted look on her face.

"That's where you went, Charlotte," he mumbled loudly. Sam could smell the alcohol from where he stood. "You're a real pretty girl, Charlotte. Come and do a little dance for me."

Again it was an order, but this time Anya stood up straighter. "I'll be back out in a minute, Mr Yates."

The man stumbled forward again, smiling calmly, like he was looking at an invalid. "Come on now, Charlotte. Let's see those pretty hips move."

Sam growled before he knew what he was doing. The noise caught the man's attention and he turned back to the hunter, cooing grin gone. "Got a problem, boy!" the man snapped as his eyes travelled up. "Man, you're a tall fucker aren't you."

Anya stepped forward before Sam could retort. "I'll be back out in a moment, Mr Yates. I'm just on my break."

Yates turned back to the young woman, but the anger remained in his eyes. "Break's over, girl. Get your fucking ass out there and dance for me, bitch!"

If the older man hadn't been drunk, Sam swore he would have hit him. As it was he had taken a step forward before Anya grabbed his arm, giving him a look that clearly said she would handle this herself.

"Mr Yates -." She didn't get a chance to say anything though as the drunk took three steps forward.

Sam had moved before the man finished his first step, planting himself squarely in front of Anya. He didn't like the way Yates was staring at her, or how even his stumbles forward seemed threatening.

Yates narrowed his eyes, though Sam wasn't half sure it wasn't so the older man could see him better.

"Step off boy or you'll find yourself knee deep in trouble. And with the height your knees are, that's a shitload of trouble."

"I think you better back out that door, Mr Yates," Sam said in a near snarl. He took a step forward, managing to loom over the drunk. Yates took an involuntary step back. "Else I won't need to find trouble. It'll be right in front of me."

Yates stood there for a moment, apparently wavering with indecision. Fear and anger took turns flushing his face, until finally it seemed fear won out. The man took another two steps back, an embarrassed glare plastered on. He seemed to be muttering to himself as he spun and left the room.

Sam relaxed and turned to find Anya staring at him with her arms folded. She was clearly not happy.

"What?" he asked, unsure of what he had done.

"Nice, Sam, real nice," she snapped sarcastically. "Did you have to go threaten the poor man?"

Sam looked at her with confusion. "Excuse me? He had no right to talk to you like that?"

"You don't know this place, Sam," she shot back. "It's not a place with high standards on equal opportunity. Ma… he's a pig," she said flatly, referring to Mahone. "He doesn't really care what happens to his girls. In here we haven't really got that much say."

"So you really would have gone and danced happily in his lap?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't dance. Well, I haven't. And I don't plan on it." Her face softened. "It's not that bad. Actually, it looks kinda exciting," she grinned. "Besides, a lot of these girls have no other way of living day to day, especially if they want to stay off the street," she added in a sad mutter.

Sam sighed. "Sorry," he told her, not really sure what he was saying it for. He just felt it was right if he wanted to stop arguing with her. Dean might think people were crazier than demons, but Sam knew women were crazier than men.

She shrugged. "It's okay. But I don't think you should stick around much longer. Come see me and Ash tomorrow. We're staying at the Sleep-Easy. Room nine."

Sam nodded, stepping in beside her as she began walking towards the door. "Where is Ash, anyway?" he asked. "And what does he think of you working here?"

She grinned. "He hates it, obviously. He's outside at the moment, watching everyone as they come in. He would have seen you two already."

Sam nodded, stepping in front of Anya so he could walk through the door. "I'll look for him on the way out," he began as he turned to watch her come through. She looked up as he spoke, and her eyes went wide.

"Watch out!" she cried, looking over his shoulder. Adrenaline pumping quickly, Sam turned just in time to avoid the bottle crashing down on his head. Instead it hit his shoulder, and he cried out in pain as he felt it immediately begin to bruise.

Grabbing a hold of the throbbing body part, he completed his turn, coming face to face with Yates, who had a sickly look to his eyes as he realized his ambush hadn't worked. But either the alcohol was numbing his fear, or he was just more desperate than either hunter had anticipated, because he leapt at Sam before the young man had regained his balance.

They both crashed to the floor, Yates on top, and Sam growled mentally at himself for letting a drunk man get the better of him. Deciding instantly not to tell Dean, he easily blocked the punch, grabbing hold of the wrist and twisting until Yates turned away, grimacing with the pain. Sam pushed the man off of him, getting to his feet with grace before spinning and letting Yates go. Just as Sam had hoped, the drunk tumbled through the door into the club, running into a pack of men. Sam followed somewhat more stately, glaring to himself and rubbing his shoulder. It was still throbbing.

What Sam hadn't anticipated was the fact that Yates might be a little more than acquainted with the men he had sprawled into. He got his first hint when the five men, as well as Yates, turned to face him. Yates was grinning, while the others were looking angrily impassive.

He stopped at the door, getting the feeling he might be in a spot of bother. Then all feeling stopped as four of them rushed at him, and action took over.

Sidestepping so he could face off against two less, Sam kept his eyes on all of them. Or did so as well as he could. It was hard with two in front of him, two trying to stop themselves from running into a wall, while Yates and the leftover seemed destined to watch.

Sam made quick calculations and decided things weren't so bad for him. He knew Anya couldn't get involved without giving herself away. Dean was apparently nowhere to be seen and the music was covering all noise. Including his own thoughts. The only thing going for him was that they were all pretty drunk. He was sure he could take them.

All this took little more than a second before he found himself being rushed at. The two in front of him came at him, one from either side, and the hunter waited for them to make the first move.

The taller one covered the ground quicker, swinging aimlessly as soon as he got close enough. Sam ducked, making a small noise of disgust as the man left himself wide open for the hunter's sharp jab to the bottom of his ribs. Grunting, the taller man doubled over and Sam stood up straighter in order to drive a knee into the guy's face. Blood began flowing as the guy fell to the ground.

The small altercation – from Sam's point of view – allowed time for the shorter man to reach them. Stepping over a leg, this guy, too, punched. Sam blocked once, stepping nimbly away from the guy lying on the ground so he had room to move. Then he lashed out himself, punching the shorter guy quickly in the face before following up with two punches on the stomach and an uppercut, hitting the cheek bone hard enough to feel something go wrong. The guy fell away, clutching at his face. Two down, four to go.

Those four were closing in, Yates and the leftover having decided to join in. And they had used the time wisely. Before Sam could even recover from knocking out his second opponent, someone grabbed him from behind in a tight bear-hug while another rushed in from the front.

Instantly Sam drove his head back, smashing hard into the other guy's face. Somehow it wasn't enough though, and Sam had to reconsider tactics. And he had to do it quickly before leftover got close enough to hit him.

Gathering his stomach muscles, Sam pushed off the ground, kicking out with both feet at the guy closing in, the guy who had stood with Yates at first. The impact knocked all three over, and Sam rolled to his feet quickly the moment he was released from the bear-hug. And found himself back on the floor a moment later as something smashed into his back.

Twisting to land on his shoulder so he could roll over, Sam looked around to see Yates holding a bar stool and looking triumphant. Sam sneered at him as he kicked from the floor, heel landing directly in Yates' groin. The man doubled over, dropping the stool as he fell to his knees, clutching at himself.

Sam scanned around him quickly before getting to his feet. But by then the guy he had first knocked down was back up, blood running from a broken nose. And he wasn't looking happy. Add to that the fact that two of them had found pool cues somewhere – Sam never could figure out where, considering there was no pool table in the club that he could see – and the ante had certainly been upped.

Two of them began closing in, far more cautious now they knew he had skills. One held his cue like a bat, while the other raised his fists, though he looked afraid to use them. Sam shrugged and put his own fists up.

The guy with the cue lashed out first. Sam jumped back, and the cue whistled past an inch from his chest. The swing spun the guy around and Sam closed in, kicking out. His foot landed directly on the guy's chest, forcing him back into his partner. They both stumbled to the ground in their drunken state and Sam took a step back to recover.

Or tried to.

"Sam, duck!" he suddenly heard Dean call. He hadn't really needed the warning. Or he had, but he needed it a moment earlier. The instant before he settled on his feet to await the next attack, he felt something hurtling towards him. He ducked at the same time as Dean's warning. It just wasn't fast enough.

Something sharp and round glanced off his head as he dipped, and the world went black.

Just so you all know Anya and Ash are characters from my story 'Into Hell's Fires'. If you didn't like them… well, tough, cause I've already written the story. But keep reading, cause… well, just cause. Please!