The lock softly clicked and the handle turned on the motel room door. Dean stepped quietly inside and was surprised, yet oddly happy, to be greeted by the dog as he pushed the door shut behind him. It struck him then just how much he was actually missing Sam's—human Sam's—company and companionship. The older man couldn't wait for the pixie dust prank to wear off in three more days.

He reached down and patted the dog's head, hissing a little as his sore knuckles complained. "Hey, Sammy dog, didn't have to wait up for me." The big brown dog made a beeline for the door, scratching a paw anxiously at the aging wood. "Oh. Well, then again maybe you did." He let Sammy out the door and followed, waiting patiently as the dog watered the bushes. After taking a deep breath of crisp night air, Dean ushered the dog back into the room. He rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. "Don't know about you, but I'm done in for the night."

Stepping around the perpetually happy animal, whose tail was wagging so hard his entire body shook, Dean slipped out of his leather jacket and tossed it across the back of the nearby chair before easing himself gingerly down on the edge of the mattress. He'd handled the two goons from the bar without much difficulty, but they had managed to get in a few lucky jabs, his throbbing side and jaw were painful proof. His headache was the cherry on top of this dreadful sundae.

Bending over, he pulled off his boots and socks, wiggling his now-free toes on the threadbare patterned carpet, sighing with what distinctly sounded like pleasure. Dean flopped back on the lumpy bed, debating whether or not he had the energy to undress properly and climb beneath the covers. Before his weary mind could conjure a coherent flicker of an answer, however, he jumped sky high and let out a resounding yelp. Jackknifing back into a sitting position, Dean stared in absolute astonishment, and not a little horror, as the dog continued to lick madly at his toes. He squirmed as the rough tongue glided over his sensitive—and yes, damn it, ticklish—feet, particularly his toes. Dean barely bit back the urge to automatically giggle. He quickly pulled the affronted appendages out of reach.

"Dude! I . . . I know you're . . . you're . . . a dog and all. But you are still my brother! That's just . . . just . . . gross. Completely and utterly gross."

He eyed the dog's lolling pink tongue with suspicion as he put his feet back down on the floor. Dean pointed at the dog and muttered, "You just stay right where you are, dog breath!"

The sleepy hunter stood, rapidly stripping down to his black boxers and gray t-shirt. Dean tossed his dirty clothes in the corner before slipping under the covers on his bed. Once tucked in, he mumbled, "So—think you can you quit messin' with me now and just go to bed?" Dean rolled over and prepared to do just that, slipping his hand under his pillow as he spoke. He was surprised to feel the soft thump as Sammy dog hopped up on the bed.

"Hey, dude, I meant that you get on your own bed!"

Sammy dog merely grunted and sighed mightily as he curled up at the foot of the bed and made himself completely comfortable.

For once knowing when he was on the losing end of an argument, Dean murmured good-naturedly, "So that's how it's gonna be then, huh? Fine. Sleep there. No complaining though if I accidentally kick you in the middle of the night." You ginormous floppy-eared pain in the ass.

(SN) (SN) (SN)

The next day dawned overcast and somewhat gloomy, anemic sunlight choosing to peek shyly through the clouds only intermittently. A stiff breeze blew out of the north, putting to bed yesterday's milder weather. The downturn in climate, however, didn't stop the older Winchester brother from looking forward to his meeting with Josie in the park. He showered and dressed with considerable speed considering his residual soreness from the night before.

With a final glance in the mirror, Dean ran his hand over his freshly shaven cheeks and then through his still damp hair, leaving it softly spiked just the way he liked it. Stepping back into the main room, he grabbed his black jacket off the bed, slipped it on over his long-sleeved green flannel shirt, and flipped up the collar. Picking up the dog's collar and leash, Dean called to the dog, "You ready to go there, Sammy? Coffee with Josie and then we'll stop and get food on the way back. How's that sound?"

Dean snapped the collar and leash into place as the dog emitted a soft woof of agreement. He found himself whistling some nameless tune as they headed for the Impala.

(SN) (SN) (SN)

"Hey, you came!" Josie's soft voice was filled with pleasure. "And here's sweetie pie Sammy again too."

"Of course, I did. Who can resist the promise of hot coffee and a gorgeous woman to drink it with?"

Josie smiled at the compliment. "Here's your coffee. I took a chance and just left it black."

"Perfect."

Dean took the heavy-duty coffee-filled cup she held out, appreciating its heat when he wrapped the fingers of his left hand around it. He sipped the hot, rich brew carefully, hoping to avoid a burned tongue.

"I brought us a little something to go with the coffee too. A couple of pastries from the Brown Sugar Bakery. There's even a little treat for Sammy. " She shook the little white bag she carried in the hand not holding her own coffee. "Should we sit? Or maybe we can walk near the pond."

"Sure, let's walk." Holding Sammy's leash loosely in one hand, Dean continued to drink his coffee as he and Josie strolled near the water. The hunter found himself relaxing, enjoying the woman's company more than he'd even thought possible.

The attack when it came was swift and totally unexpected. Dean was hit by a juggernaut from behind and propelled forward with great force. Without meaning to, he dropped the dog's leash. His full coffee cup went flying, drops of hot liquid geysering everywhere. The hunter managed to stay on his feet, barely, and was just regaining his balance enough to spin around when a ham-like fist plowed squarely into his face. Through the sudden ringing in his ears, Dean could hear Josie screaming at someone, presumably the as-yet-unseen juggernaut.

Shaking his head to clear it, Dean finally got a good look at his attacker. The man was huge; there was no other way to describe it. He was taller than Dean, taller even than human Sam. And he was wide—not fat—just incredibly wide. The stranger's large shaved-bald head seemed to rest directly on his massive shoulders, having virtually no neck of which to speak. It gave the man the appearance of a bull—an enraged and crazed bull.

"What the friggin' hell?" exclaimed Dean.

Before he could get anymore out, the giant plowed into him, wide muscular shoulders impacting with Dean's diaphragm without mercy. His breath whooshed out in a painful rush. He landed on his back with a thud, the behemoth landing on top of him.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOIN' WITH MY WOMAN!"

Unable to breathe because of the blow to his diaphragm and the constricting force of the giant on top of him, Dean could only gasp in answer.

Finding the gasp to be an unacceptable answer, the man slammed a fist into Dean's mouth, splitting his lip.

"SHE'S MINE AND YOU. CAN'T. HAVE. HER." The giant punctuated his last four words with fierce punches.

"Dirk! Dirk, stop it! Damn it, you're NOT my boyfriend anymore!" Josie stood frozen, watching the struggle before her.

Working his arms between their bodies, Dean heaved with all his might, managing to unbalance Dirk just slightly. He was just about attempt to slide out from under the man when he heard the dog growl. It was enough of a distraction for him to make his move, and Dean extricated himself quickly, rolling and gaining his feet in one effortless move.

Dean heard the dog yelp and took a step forward, only to have Dirk's tree-trunk leg slam into his ankles, taking his feet right out from under him once more. He hit the ground on his left side, his shoulder taking the brunt of the fall. Before he could make another move, Dean was being lifted like a rag doll, broad hands fisted in the front of his jacket. The landscape spun and dipped wildly, making him a bit dizzy.

Damn, for such a big guy, he's scary fast. And shit is he strong!

Then he was flying through the air. Expecting to slam into the hard ground, Dean was shocked when he landed in the pond instead. His breath seized as the cold water closed over his head with a mighty splash. Fighting the urge to suck in a pained lungful of air, Dean waited for his momentum to slow, becoming increasingly disoriented because of the darkness and murk. He hung in limbo for a minute or two. Finally some sort of instinct kicked in, and Dean kicked his way upward.

His head finally broke the surface and he pulled in deep breaths, willing his heartbeat to slow. Dean struck out for the edge of the pond and dry ground, powerful arms cutting easily through the water despite his throbbing shoulder.

Reaching shallow water, the hunter stood on shaky legs and stumbled forward. He immediately looked around for his newest nemesis and spied him just in time to see Dirk draw back his leg and kick Sammy in the side. The dog yelped pitifully.

Dean's vision went crimson with fury. He surged forward at a dead run, reaching Dirk in a matter of seconds. Too busy gearing up for another kick, the behemoth never knew what hit him. Powered by anger, the older Winchester tackled the bigger man, felling him like a Redwood. With a menacing growl, Dean straddled the man and threw several well-placed punches. Before he landed the last, knockout blow, he hissed, "Nobody but nobody hits or kicks my bro . . . I mean, my dog. Just be glad I'm letting you live." The last punch landed with a solid thunk.

He scrambled off the unconscious man and stood shivering, scummy pond water plastering his clothes to his body. Looking down at him with contempt, Dean resisted the urge to add a kick of his own for good measure. Turning, he let out a half-grunt, half chuckle. "Unbelievable. Nearly taken out by a guy named Dirk. Dirk was a real dick, wouldn't you agree, Sammy?"

Dean expected a bark or a whine from his brother-turned-dog. When he didn't hear anything, Dean looked around quizzically. His roaming gaze quickly turned frantic.

Sammy was gone.