Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.
A/N: Me: Right. So this is the single longest chapter ever in our SPN-fic-writing history. Possibly the longest chap on my FF, I'm not sure.
Jordan: And it's awesome!
Me: Heheheh… Yeah, we had a lot of fun writing this one. I blame sugar and hyperness and caffeine. Namely, tea.
Jordan: Indeed. Earl Grey'll do that to you.
Me: And, of course, our boredom and randomocity.
Jordan: So remember to review and tell us what you think!
Chapter Twelve – The Drunken Trials
"Here you go, ladies," said a voice as a couple of Budweisers appeared in front of Jordan and Lyn. There were a dozen or so empty bottles already on the table in front of them, as well as a couple of shot glasses that smelled of Jack Daniel's.
Lyn grabbed one of the beers and sipped it without a word, staring almost morosely at the dirty wood grain of the table. After a moment, she looked up at Jordan with a crease between her eyebrows and asked seriously, "You ever wonder… why it is… that aaalllllll of these tables… look like somebody broke one too many bottles over 'em?"
Jordan sat, giggling uncontrollably. "'Cause, Lynnie Bear, that's probably what happened!" She grinned and downed half of the lone beer left on the table.
"Hrm," Lyn mused, her accent seeming to thicken by the moment as she twirled her hair around her finger, a strange gesture that was very uncharacteristic. "I dunno, J'rd'n. I mean, it coulda been sumthin' tot'lly diff'r'nt. I mean, nuthin's ever simple, y'know? Always whatcher least s'spectin', y'know?"
"Wow… I so tot'lly see whatcha mean! Like, if I snuck up 'hind Dean and he was all like… 'Oh, itsa dem'n' and he turn'd 'round an' it was jus' me! Right!?" She hiccuped and downed the rest of her beer.
"Tha's true," Lyn admitted, nodding solemnly before suddenly throwing back the beer bottle like a shot glass, emptying it, and slamming it back down on the table. "Bu' Dean, y'know, he's all payruh – purruh – uh… y'know, s'sp'cius-like, anyways…"
"Yeah… tha's true…" Jordan broke off into a fit of giggles. "Wha' d'you thin' Sammy'd do if ya snuck up on him!?" Her eyes widened and she leaned on her hands, waiting for Lyn's answer.
"I d'nno," Lyn said thoughtfully; she seemed to consider that for a moment before looking up as if she had just realized something and pointing a somewhat unsteady finger at Jordan before continuing, "Bu' I kno' this, fer shore. He'd a-pro'ly git all mad atcha fer a-callin' 'im Sammy, y'know…"
Jordan started laughing uncontrollably, which caught the attention of everyone in the small bar, even some unwanted attention from a few wandering eyes. A loud noise rang out, making Jordan flinch. Her cell phone.
"Ar'h –" She opened the phone and held it cautiously to her ear. "H'llo? J'rd'n the lm' -- l'ma… here!" she announced with a bright smile.
"Jordan? Where are you two!?" Dean's voice rang out loud and clear – too loud.
"Deanie Pie! Wh't're you d'in', call'n me at a t'm light th's!?" Jordan yelled back.
Dean stared at Sam with his eyes wide in shock. "Jordan, are you drunk!? Is Lyn with you!?"
Sam stared back and mouthed, 'Drunk!?' as if he couldn't believe what Dean had just said.
Jordan covered the phone with her hand. "Lynnie Bear! Deanie Poo wan's t' know 'f y're he'r wit' me!"
"Oh, lemme talkta 'im, then!" Lyn ordered, snatching the phone out of Jordan's hand and nearly slicing the back of said hand open with her fingernails.
"'Lo, Dean?"
"Lyn?" Dean's voice asked, rising in volume again in surprise.
"Well, yeh! I mean, ya asked J'rd'n ta talkta me, so o' 'course i's me, ya idget…"
Dean held the phone at arm's length and stared at it for a minute before handing it to Sam. "Here, I think maybe you'd better talk to her."
"'Lo, Dean? Deeeaannnn! Didja get ea'en by sum'thin'!?" Lyn was calling when Sam put the phone to his ear.
"Wha'!? My Deanie Poo g't ea'en by sum'thin'!?" Jordan gasped in surprise and nearly fell out of her chair.
Dean stared at Sam. "What's happening!?"
"They're – I think they're drunk!" Sam said disbelievingly.
"Dr – crap! They took Lyn's car! No way in hell they can get home without crashing it, which they will both more than regret in the morning. Son of a bitch… We gotta get over there… soon!" Dean whisper-yelled at Sam.
"Oh! 'Ello, Sammeh!" Lyn cried. "Where'd Dean go? 'Cuz he wuz a-talkin' an' then he wuz gawn an' like J'rd'n thin's tha' he got ea'en ur sum'thin'…"
"He's right here," Sam began, "but –"
"Don' wurry, J'rd'n!" Lyn said happily. "Dean's okay, he's a-wi' Sammeh!"
"Y'a!" Jordan yelled out, so loud that the bartender started to walk over to them. "Lynnie Bear… I'ma st'rt'n t' th'nk th'y dun't w'nt 's here no m're…" She acquired a serious expression that didn't reach her eyes, which still sparkled with unheard laughter.
"Hummmm, I d'nno, J'rd'n," Lyn said, nearly dropping the phone as she turned around in her chair to look at the aforementioned bartender. "Heza lookin' reeeeeaaaaaal grumpy, tho'!"
"Lyn, how much have you been drinking!?" Sam asked, shocked.
"A li'l, I guess," Lyn admitted. "Whuzza diff'r'nce, ennyways, Sammeh?"
"And who's looking grumpy!? What's going on!?"
"Ummmm… I d'nno… Hold on, lemme ask!" Lyn said brightly, then covered the phone with her hand and cocked her head sideways at the bartender, who had stopped at their table. "Whazzup, rand'm guy?"
"Come on, ladies – time to leave," said the bartender, motioning toward the door.
Jordan gasped dramatically, covering her mouth with her hand. "Heeza makin' us leave, Lynnie Bear!"
"Sam, what's happening!? All I can hear is yelling!" Dean said, holding his car keys in his hand.
"Lyn, listen to me," Sam said loudly, to catch Lyn's attention again. "Where are you?"
"Well, Ima sittin' atta table, bu' th's guy's a-makin' us leave…"
"No, don't leave!" Sam almost yelled. "Tell me where you are and stay there!"
"I toldja, heza makin' us leave!" Lyn yelled right back, somewhat louder than she had intended. Not that she noticed. "Ain't nob'dy here nice az they wuz a' home, y'know, they jus' up an' make ya leave fer no gud reezun…"
Jordan got up and, after a lot of stumbling, finally made it to the door with Lyn behind her. "Imma keel th'm… Mak'n us leave fer no gud reezun…" She turned around and glared at the bartender.
"They're leaving!? Make them stay! Come on, we've gotta get going – did they tell you where they are!?" Dean asked, pulling on his leather jacket and checking to be sure he had all his things before opening the door and running to the Impala, followed by Sam. They got in and sped off, Sam still listening to Lyn and Jordan's faint drunken babbling.
"Heywhuzzatoverdere?" Lyn asked, shoving Jordan in the shoulder, nearly knocking her over, and pointing at a pedestrian crossing sign in front of the bar. "Whozis Ped Zing guy, ennyways?"
"Ped Ex-ing… guy…" Jordan's eyes grew wide. "I… uh… seen th's b'ck in Pi'rce!" She ran to it, tripping and falling, and hitting her head on the ground. A fit of giggles erupted two seconds later. "Whoo's! Gess th' grownd jump'd up 'n' bit meh!"
"Sam! Talk to them!" Dean yelled at Sam, going 80 toward the closer of the two bars in town.
"They're not even listening!" Sam objected, half exasperatedly and half worriedly. "What am I supposed to say!?"
"Ohmygosh, J'rd'n, izzu a'ri't!?" Lyn shrieked at the top of her lungs, dropping the phone and grabbing Jordan's shoulder, but only succeeding in falling to the concrete, too. "Izda grawnd bein' p'ss'ss'ss'd baiya dem'n!?"
"Lyn!?" Sam yelled into the phone. "Lyn, what happened!? Lyn!"
"Sam! What the hell happened!? Are they okay!? Tell them we're about two minutes away from them!" Dean picked up speed.
"Lynnie Bear! Izz youz okay!?" Jordan tried to sit up, but only succeeded in tangling them up even more. She finally rested her head down next to Lyn's and said, "I lovez you, Lynnie Bear… I'd pro'lly die w'thout you…" She hugged her sister tight.
"I d'nno, J'rd'n," Lyn said slowly, sounding suddenly sad. "I'z a-not doin' sucha gud job a' th' keepin' you 'live 'n' stuff, no morez. I mean… I di'n' even keep you from fallin', an'… an'… I can' even fin' th' dem'n tha'z p'ss'ss'ss'ss'n da grawnd!"
"Lyn, are you there!? Lyn! We're almost there, okay!? Don't. Drive!" The words were faint, coming from the cell phone which lay several feet away. And, the way Lyn's and Jordan's ears were currently ringing, they barely even registered a buzzing sound from that general direction.
"S'okay, Lynnie Bear," Jordan said, resting her head on Lyn's shoulder as she spoke. "Ll' finda way out'f it… Deanie Poo'll help too! Like… a p'rty!"
"Augh, she's not talking!" Sam yelled in frustration, slamming his hand onto the door of the Impala. "She yelled something and then she must have lost the phone or threw it or something stupid. I knew this was a bad idea! We should have gone with them!"
"We're here, Sam," Dean announced before quickly parking the car and getting out. That was when he spotted Lyn and Jordan lying on the concrete, Jordan hugging Lyn and Lyn looking forlorn. "Uh… Sam…" He pointed toward them, one eyebrow raised.
Sam stared, not quite able to grasp the concept that this was Lyn and Jordan and completely unable to comprehend what in the world they were doing lying on the concrete in front of a pedestrian crossing sign. "Lyn? Jordan?" he asked tentatively before approaching. "Are you okay…?"
"Whoza sayin' tha'!?" Lyn demanded suddenly, raising her head and pulling something out of her purse to point threateningly into the darkness. Then her eyes widened when she figured out who it was and she nudged Jordan's shoulder with her other hand. "Oh, lookit, izza Sammeh 'n' Dean. Hiiiii, Sammeh 'n' Dean! Youza wanna be careful, tho', y'kno', a-'cause I mighta stabbed ya ur sum'thin', y'know, fer sneakin' up awn us li' tha'."
Suddenly she seemed to remember something and brightened, lowering the comb that she had been pointing threateningly at them and saying, "Hey, Sammeh, tha' remin'z me! J'rd'n wuzza wan'in' ta kno' wha' wudda happun'd if'n I'da sneaked up 'hindja wi'outja knowin', 'cuz we figgered 'f J'rd'n'd snuck up 'hind Dean, he'da tho't she wuzza dem'n… Wudja tho't I'za dem'n, Sammeh?"
"Deanie Bear! Sammeh! When didjoo get hur?" Jordan got up and started stumbling toward Dean and Sam. She tripped and almost fell, but Dean caught her and held her up. He shot a look over at Sam, eyes wide and brow furrowed, as Jordan went on, "See… th' grawnd… it j'mped up and beet me. I'ma think'n the grawnd 's po'ss'ss'ss'd!"
Sam was shocked speechless as he looked back and forth between Dean and Jordan and Lyn, but it didn't really matter, because Lyn chose that moment to attempt to sit up, fall back down, and let out a strangled yell. "Th' dem'n 'n the grawnd, izgot me!" she bellowed. "Izgot me baida hair, J'rd'n! Runnaways, runnaways faaarrrr far aways an' don' come back wi'out holy wa'er an' exachisma books!"
"Noes! Sammeh! Deanie Poo! Yous gotsta save Lynnie Bear! Get your exachisma book an' do one of 'em!" Jordan pulled away from Dean and stumbled over to Lyn, kneeling down and hitting the 'demon.'
"Holy shit, Sam… What're we supposed to – Wait, why does Jordan have an accent?" Dean asked disbelievingly.
"Uh… well, she did grow up in the same place as Lyn, I guess she just… lost hers, until she got drunk, and Lyn didn't?" Sam said slowly as he stared at the girls strangely. "I mean, Lyn's is worse, I guess it makes sense that Jordan would get hers back… And, uh… well, I guess I'm gonna try to get her hair untangled from the post of that street sign before she scalps herself and you're gonna make up an exorcism for 'ground demons.'"
"NOOOOES!" Lyn yelled, trying to shove Jordan away. "Runnaways, runnaways! A'fore th' dem'n getschu too! Sammeh, gettaway!" she continued to rant as Sam approached, trying to figure out how to calm her down so he could get her away from the signpost without cutting a chunk out of her hair, for which she would surely murder him in the morning. "Gettaways! Youza nawt gonna get got baida dem'n! Iza not gonna letcha!"
Dean approached Jordan. "Jordan… it's time to back up. If we're gonna exorcise the ground demon, you're gonna have to stand back so you won't get hurt."
He pulled her up and led her backwards. She held onto him, saying, "Deanie Poo! Yur so nice! So strong! I loves you, Deanie Poo!"
Jordan wrapped her arms around Dean's neck and kissed his cheek, jaw, and neck, much to his amusement and happiness.
"Lyn – Lyn, calm down for a minute!" Sam said earnestly, attempting to hold her still so she wouldn't yank her hair off while thrashing around.
"Butda dem'n, i'z here!" Lyn argued, hitting him in the head by accident as she tried to shake his shoulders to make him listen. "I'z here, Sammeh, ya gotsta gettaways!"
"No, it's – uh – look, I'll draw a circle, see?" Sam said, and Lyn paused in randomly wriggling around long enough to gaze at him, wide-eyed, as he traced a random design on the pavement with his finger. "See, now the demon can't do anything, and if you'll be still for a minute, we'll go over there and Dean will exorcise it, okay?"
"Ooh, gud plan!" Lyn said with an exaggerated gasp. "Youza so smart, Sammeh…" She gave a huge, crooked grin and then suddenly went totally limp.
"Sam – Jordan, quit it – is she okay!? Did she pass out!?" Dean asked as he tried to keep Jordan from jumping him. She just broke into a fit of giggles and tried harder.
"Nooooo," Lyn trilled as if she were about to burst into song, but still without moving. "Jus' bein' veeeeeerryy stiiiiillllllll…"
Sam shook his head, muttered something unintelligible under his breath, and finally managed to free Lyn's hair from the metal signpost. "Okay," he said, tugging on her arm. "You can get up now, let's go."
"Bu' whaddabout da dem'n!?" Lyn demanded as Sam pulled her to her feet. "We gotsta do sum'thin' abou' th' dem'n!"
"We will… But I don't want you to get hurt if the demon starts to get violent and mad," Sam explained, pulling Lyn toward Dean and Lyn.
"Deeeeeeeeannie Pooo! I loves youz!" Jordan said in a sing-song voice as she jumped onto Dean's back. "Pig'eh back ri'!"
Dean easily caught her. "Fine… I'll give you a piggy back ride."
"NOES!" Lyn bellowed, grabbing Sam's arm and shaking it while staring wide-eyed at Dean. "You can'st! You gotsta extrastormacize th' dem'n, Sammeh sed you wuz gonna extramatide th' dem'n! Make 'im extormadice th' dem'n, Sammeh!"
"Er, right, Dean," Sam said slowly. "You should probably, er, recite that exorcism… for ground demons… Remember, uh, the exorcism… we were talking about earlier…?"
"Right… er – exornatumus ti, notalus fernalis, tonatus junaues, fernue," Dean finished, glancing at Sam.
"Deanieeee Poo! Yousa did it! Th' dem'n's gone!" Jordan hugged Dean's neck tightly from her spot on his back.
"Wunndat s'posta be li' 'ferus'?" Lyn wondered, nearly falling over and bumping into Sam. "Dat don' soun' li' Latin, y'kno', Sammeh…"
"It's, uh, an older kind of Latin," Sam invented, keeping a hold on her shoulders to stop her from falling over again. "Very little known, but, uh, very powerful…"
"Ah, yah, I see," Lyn agreed, nodding. "'s li' Cherokee, kinda? Nots menny peoples knows 'bout it but they's still exarchasmas innit, righ'…?"
"Uh… sure," Sam said slowly, blinking as he tried to decipher what she had said. "But, look, we should, uh – get out of here, you know, before, uh, any more… ground demons show up…"
"Tru', tru'," Lyn said, nodding seriously. "A'cause they's real terr'tor'ul-like, them grawnd dem'ns, y'kno'…"
Jordan smacked Dean's shoulder and ordered, "Giddehyup, hors – horsie!"
Dean rolled his eyes and started walking toward the Impala, while Jordan started giggling for what felt like the millionth time that night.
"Oh, bu' weza furgettin'!" Lyn said suddenly, looking around and blinking. "Th' grawnd dem'n, i' stoled J'rd'n's phone! … Di' J'rd'n's phone get blowed up when Dean exormaticated th' dem'n, Sammeh?"
"Uh… where was it… when the demon stole it?" Sam asked uncertainly, looking around and attempting to locate the cell phone in the glow of the neon lights from the bar. " Uh…" He shot a look at Lyn, who was swaying dangerously close to keeling over, and asked, "Can you… stand…?"
"Well, I am a-standin', silly Sammeh," Lyn said, rolling her eyes. Then she doubled over, laughing, and Sam had to catch her to keep her from falling. "Silly Sammeh," she choked out through her laughter. "Thassan alla-terra-rashun thing, y'kno'…"
"Sammy, hurry the hell up!" Dean yelled from the car, where he was closing the back door to keep a very giggly Jordan inside. "We gotta get them home before the after-effects of the amount of booze they downed in that bar catches up to them!"
"Jordan's lost her phone!" Sam yelled back exasperatedly. "You look for it, I've gotta find Lyn's car and get the keys from her. This part of town, there won't be anything left by morning but a stripped frame, otherwise…"
"'Ey, no yellin', Sammeh!" Lyn complained. "'S not nice, an' i' makes mah head hurt…"
"All right, I'm sorry," Sam apologized, frowning. "Lyn, where did you park your car?"
Lyn blinked. "I d'nno, Sammeh; whar did I park mah car?"
"Sam, it's over there!" Dean announced, pointing toward Lyn's car, which was parked across the lot from the Impala.
"Deeeeeeeanie!" Jordan called, her face pressed against the back window of the Impala. "Come in the back seat with meeee!"
"Lyn, where are your keys?" Sam asked as he half dragged and half carried Lyn across the parking lot toward her car.
"Ummmm… Oh! They'z in mah purse! … But, why, Sammeh?"
"I need them; can I borrow them for a second?"
"Youz not a-gettin' my keys!" Lyn objected. "Ain't nobuddy drives mah car bu' me, an I cain'…" She tugged on Sam's collar and whispered as if sharing a great secret, "See, I kinda hadda few drinks…"
"No kidding," Sam muttered, shaking his head and at the same time feeling like chuckling and mentioning something about stating the obvious. "But you can't leave your car here, I need the keys."
"YOU CAN'ST HAVE MY KEYS!" Lyn yelled, trying to pull away but failing miserably in her drunken clumsiness.
Jordan pushed open the door and pulled Dean into the back seat, pushing him on his back and getting on top of him. "Hai, Deanie Poo… I kinda gots a li'l tipsy turvy t'night…" She grinned at him.
"'A little' might be an understatement," Dean said, smirking. "But you need to sit in the car and wait, now – I'll go find your phone and then we can go, okay?"
"Nuh uh, uh uh… You gon' wait wit' me… Sammeh c'n find th' phone…" Jordan leaned down and pressed her lips to Dean's.
Meanwhile, Sam was trying to convince Lyn to give him her car keys. "Lyn… I'm not gonna drive your car. I just need to take the keys from you so you don't drive. You might get hurt if you try." He hated lying to Lyn, but he needed to get her car keys. He knew that if they left her car here overnight, it would either be stolen or stripped bare.
"Liar liar liar liar!" Lyn accused, poking Sam in the chest. "Youza a hor'ble liar, Sammeh. I ain't a-gonna drive nowheres and ya knows tha', so youza lyin' ta me, Sammeh! Why'z you a-lyin'!? Don'ts make me sing ya the liars' song…"
"Mnph – Jordan –" Dean objected, pushing her back with his mind reeling from the force of her kiss. When he had collected his thoughts again, he continued, "Look, Jordan, you're drunk! You have to let me find your phone and take you back to the motel, all right?"
Jordan giggled. "I toldja, Deanie! Sammeh'll find my phone!" She leaned forward, placing a hand on each side of Dean's head, and pouted.
"Sam is trying to get Lyn's keys so she won't be able to drive!" Dean countered. "He won't have time to find your phone, and somebody could step on it in the dark. And you need to get back to the motel before your hangover starts to kick in."
Sam sighed. "Lyn… I really don't want to have to take your keys away from you… by force. So can I please have the keys!?"
He started to close in on Lyn, who backed away with wide eyes and grabbed something out of her purse. A moment later, she was pointing her cell phone at him like a weapon; then she blinked at it confusedly and muttered, "Y'kno', I don' 'memb'r tha' bein' so… naht shiny…"
Sam backed Lyn into her car, one eyebrow raised. "A cell phone, Lyn? Really?" He reached into Lyn's purse, undetected, and pulled her keys from it, pushing them into his pocket.
Lyn continued to stare at the object in her hand with a confused look and finally objected, "Bu' tha's naht s'posta be a cell phone…"
Jordan smirked drunkenly and leaned back down, kissing a trail from Dean's neck, to his ear where she paused to nibble at his earlobe, then down his jaw, nipping every once in a while.
"Jor – Jordan, stop. Seriously, Jordan, st – cut it out!" Dean finally managed to push her off of him and retreat from the car, shaking his head. God, she was too good at that; but at least he could think… somewhat clearly, now. "Just stay here," he told her, trying to sound firm and at the same time keep from making her cry since she was already drunk.
"Deeeannnnie! Come back!" Jordan's lower lip trembled. She now lay on her stomach in the back of the car, propped up on her elbows.
"Well, it is… Now, let's get you in the car." Sam unlocked the Grand Am and guided Lyn into the back seat. She didn't argue; she was still gazing at the phone and looking bewildered.
"Bu' i' was'posta be sum'thin' else… y'kno', all shiny and pointy and I kno' i' wuz in mah purse…"
Dean fought back a groan at the look on Jordan's face. Why did she have to pull the hurt look and make him feel guilty, anyway? "Please, just stay here! I'll go find your phone and I'll be right back, okay? I promise, I'll be right back."
"'Kay," Jordan agreed amiably. "But ifya don' come back… Imma come ou' there lookin' fer ya…" She finished with a serious expression, but this was followed by another string of giggles.
"I'll come back," Dean promised. "Just stay here and give me one minute and I'll be right back." He wasn't entirely sure if he could trust her to stay in the car, but he turned away slowly and, looking over his shoulder several times as he did so, proceeded to search the pavement near the pedestrian crossing sign for the cell phone.
"A knife, Lyn?" Sam asked, getting her situated and handing her a bag in case she threw up.
"Oh, yeaaah! That!" Lyn said brightly, picking up her purse again and putting her cell phone back inside it before beginning to rummage around inside it again. "I's innere somewheres, I know i'…"
Sam grabbed Lyn's wrist to stop her, knowing that if she could get hurt just walking, she could do a lot of damage with a knife. "That's okay… I believe you. I'm just gonna go check on Dean… and find Jordan's cell phone. Stay here, okay?" He got out of the back seat and shut the door, locking it just in case.
Jordan sat in the back seat, bored, humming what sounded like a cross between AC/DC's Highway to Hell and Metallica's Enter Sandman. Lalalalala… she thought to herself. Then, upon catching sight of the front seat, she grinned. "C'mere, front sea'…"
She climbed into the front and started fiddling with several buttons. "Turn 'n… turn 'n… Why won' you turn 'n!?" She got frustrated and smacked the steering wheel with her hand, which caused the horn to beep, making her ears ring.
Lyn, on the other hand, was falling back on her standard for when she was bored: pressing random buttons on her cell phone and watching the colors flash. It was pretty fun, except that occasionally it would make a really loud noise that would make her head hurt…
Dean's head snapped up at hearing the Impala's horn going off. Wait, he had left Jordan in the back seat. Argh, what was she doing!? "Jordan!" he yelled, turning back toward his car. "Get back in the back seat and don't touch anything!"
Jordan heard the faint sound of Dean yelling at her, but she paid it no mind. "Tha' was loud…" She pushed the steering wheel again, and giggled when it emitted the same sound, even though it made her head throb even more.
"Dean… do you see it!? I can't find it anywhere!" Sam said, scared that someone had already stolen it. Knowing Jordan, she would be pissed in the morning.
"Jordan!" Dean yelled exasperatedly, ignoring Sam and stalking off toward the Impala. "Stop that right now!"
However, the Impala's horn blaring had given Lyn an idea. Grinning madly, she dropped her phone back in her purse and climbed into the driver's seat of her own car. She then slammed the palm of her hand against its steering wheel, tapping out 'Hello' in Morse code before collapsing over the wheel, laughing.
Jordan started laughing at Lyn's antics with the horn in the other car. She heard Dean coming closer, and tapped out 'shave and a haircut' on the horn.
Sam's head snapped toward Lyn's car, and he smirked to see Lyn in the front of the car, head bent over the steering wheel, laughing. He looked around one final time for the phone before turning and walking back to the Grand Am, still smirking.
Lyn slammed out a long 'two bits' in response to Jordan's tapping on the wheel. It was a bit late, but it wasn't like she had the best reflexes at the moment. Needless to say, it was only a moment before she was laughing uncontrollably again and all but hyperventilating.
"Jordan, stop it and get back in the back seat!" Dean said as he opened the front door of the Impala and crossed his arms at her. "We're never going to find your phone at this rate!"
Jordan looked up at Dean innocently, but there was lust in her eyes. He's perrrrty… she thought to herself. "Well… I coul'n't kiss ya… so I figgered… this's almost as fun…" She grinned up at him and pressed her palm against the horn again.
Dean caught Jordan's arm and pulled it away from the horn impatiently. "Jordan, stop," he repeated calmly but seriously.
Sam knocked on the front driver's side window of Lyn's car, unlocking the door as he did so.
"'Ello, Sammeh!" she choked out, trying to open the door but laughing so hard that, when it swung out, she fell out of it.
"Whoa! … Having fun?" Sam asked as he caught her easily and pulled her up.
Lyn collapsed against his shoulder, laughing stifled somewhat now by lack of air. After a moment, she straightened up, still grinning crookedly, and cried, "Tha' was fun! Le's do it ag'in!"
Jordan looked up at Dean through her eyelashes and then stood up, pressing herself against him and hitting the horn with her free hand. She grinned and started giggling again, still pressed firmly against the tall man in front of her.
Dean sighed heavily and pulled back – then, before Jordan could move or object, he swept her legs out from under her and picked her up. After unlocking the back door again, he (again) put her carefully into the back seat. "Now, stay, Jordan," he said emphatically.
"Tha' wasn' niiiice…" Jordan pouted and huffed, folding her arms in front of her.
Dean smirked. "Just stay here and try not to destroy my car, all right?" He bent forward and kissed her on the forehead before locking and closing the doors again and walking off to look for the phone, shaking his head as he went.
"Maybe later, Lyn… Right now, we have to find Jordan's cell phone. Now, don't cause too much trouble, okay?" Sam put her back in the front seat, closed the door, and walked off toward the pedestrian crossing sign again.
"Fine," Lyn muttered, crossing her arms. Then she brightened and grabbed her cell phone again. "Time ta play wi' pretty lights!" she said enthusiastically and, again, began grinning madly.
Jordan waited until Dean was out of sight and jumped back into the front seat. She looked around and spotted… Dean's cell phone. She grinned and picked it up, calling Lyn. "Imma callin' Lynnie Bear… Imma callin' Lynnie Bear…"
"I don't see it, Dean," Sam said from where he was kneeling on the ground.
"It has to be here somewhere," Dean said, squinting at the ground. "I mean, nobody's been by here since we showed up… Think someone could've taken it before we got here and they wouldn't have noticed?" He chuckled for a second and muttered, "They're wasted, of course someone could have, that was a stupid question…"
Lyn shrieked when the phone suddenly began to ring and Sweet Child o' Mine by Guns 'n' Roses resounded through the car. She pressed several buttons before she figured out the right one to answer, and then she half gasped and half squealed, "J'rd'n!?"
"Lynnie Bear! Deanie Poo pick'd me up'n put me 'n the back seat! Then I got on top 'f hmm… I kisseded hmm… Th'n he yel'd at me…" Jordan giggled through the phone.
"Whar'd Dean'n Sammeh go ennyways?" Lyn wondered thoughtfully. "Sammeh sed sum'thin' 'bout findin' yer cell phone, bu' th' dem'n stoled yer cell phone, dinnit?" She paused there and suddenly went very wide-eyed. "Wait, you'z callin' me from a cell phone! Ohmuhgawd, are you th' grawnd dem'n!?"
"No, sillyyy! Deanie Poo leff it 'n here! Deanie Poo sed he'z gon' find my cell phone… Wann' honk th' horn!?" Jordan said, her voice excited.
Lyn responded by collapsing in laughter again, her head hitting the steering wheel and causing the horn to go off.
Jordan laughed hysterically and honked the Impala's horn. Lyn's car horn and Dean's car horn mingled together into one very loud sound.
Sam smirked and started laughing. "They're at it again."
Dean groaned. "She's gonna destroy my car before this is over, isn't she?" he asked miserably. "At least Lyn's messing with her own car…"
Lyn sat up, still grinning like a fool, and began banging randomly on the horn while shouting into her cell phone, "This's so tot'lly AWWWW'SUMMM!"
"She probably will, Dean," Sam told his brother, grinning like a hyena.
"It so tot'lly is AWWWW'SUMM!" Jordan yelled back as she started to bang out the beat of Led Zeppelin's The Immigrant Song.
"Hey! You! Those girls your girlfriends!?" the 'evil bartender from Hell,' as the girls had dubbed him, yelled at Sam and Dean.
Dean turned around to face said bartender, his eyebrows furrowed but trying not to glare. Yet. "Yeah," he said coolly. "What of it?"
Inside her Grand Am, Lyn hissed into the phone, "Itzda eeeeviiiilllll dude who made us leave fer no gud reezun!" and began tapping out 'go away, evil scumbag' in Morse code with the horn.
Jordan gasped and tapped out 'Dun dun dunnnnnn' on the horn.
Sam's glare turned into a smirk when he heard the girls in the cars honking the horns. He distinctly recognized both 'Go away, evil scumbag' in Morse code from Lyn's car and 'Dun dun dunnnnnn' from Dean's.
The 'evil bartender from Hell' glared in the direction of the noise. "Well, wouldja shut 'em up!? They're making one hell of a racket!"
"Why, I don't believe they're speaking," Dean said with a sarcastic smile. "That racket would be our cars. But don't worry, we'll be taking those and leaving as soon as we find a certain lost cell phone. So you can scurry on back into your little rat hole now."
The 'evil bartender from Hell' went back into the bar, slamming the door as he went. Sam grinned when he heard the yells and whoops of the girls from the cars.
"Okay… it's not here. I seriously think somebody stole it," he said at last, looking at the pedestrian crossing sign.
"Probably the squinty-eyed rat face, there," Dean growled, glaring at the bar. "Wouldn't put it past him…"
"Come on… Let's get them home. Those hangovers should start to set in pretty soon," Sam said as he started walking.
"Wheeeee!" Lyn cackled as she pressed a load of random buttons on her cell phone. "Pretty colooorrrsss!" She accidentally hung up on Jordan, then shouted her name into the phone. "J'rd'n? J'RD'NN!" As she saw Sam approaching the car, she looked out at him with a sad expression and declared, "I thin' anuther grawnd dem'n got J'rd'n…"
Dean just shook his head, tried not to think about how ticked Jordan would be in the morning, and walked back toward the Impala.
"It's okay… She's still in Dean's car. No ground demons are gonna get her, don't you worry. Why don't you climb back in the back seat and buckle your seatbelt, huh?" Sam asked, opening the driver's side door.
Lyn looked sideways at him suspiciously. "Sammeh, you sed you wuzzun gonna lie ta me, an' you sed you wuzzun gonna drive mah car. So why'd I needta buckle up if'n you aren' drivin' nowheres?"
"Deanie Poo! I di'n't stay in the back seat," Jordan said, looking at him with wide eyes.
Dean chuckled. "I kind of figured that out, what with the horn going off and all. Just get in the back seat now, okay? And buckle up. I'm gonna take you back to the motel so you can get some rest."
"Okay, Deanie Poo!" Jordan did as she was told, with some difficulty. "Deanie… I c'n't buck – uck – buck'l…" she said, struggling to get her seatbelt buckled.
Dean sighed and opened the back door to help her. "Just no jumping me, this time," he muttered under his breath.
Jordan grinned. "No prom'ses…" She bit her bottom lip. God… He's sexy…
"Lyn, I'm gonna need to drive your car," Sam said, looking her in the eyes. "Dean told me to. Do you want your car stolen or taken apart?"
"Well, no, Sammeh, bu'… bu'… you lied…" Lyn whispered in an almost horrified tone, gazing at him with wide green eyes that brimmed with tears.
"I'm sorry, Lyn… I had to. I promise I'll never lie to you. Ever again. I love you. Please don't cry," Sam said, guilt washing over him as he reached out to Lyn's face to wipe the tears away from her eyes with his thumb.
Lyn nearly fell out of the car again as she abruptly lunged forward and hugged Sam around the waist. "Mmkay," she sniffled, then, just as suddenly as before, pulled back, jumped over the seat and fell face-first into the back floorboard.
"'M okay!" she yelled into the upholstery.
Sam could barely contain his laughter as he opened the back door and helped Lyn sit properly in her seat and get buckled up. "Tell me if you feel like you're gonna throw up, okay?"
"I'z jus' fine," Lyn promised. "An' I c'n mash the purdy but'ns on my cell phone!"
Sam smiled. "Good. Have fun, Lyn," he told her as he closed the door and slid into the driver's seat.
Jordan's seatbelt finally clicked into place and Dean kissed the top of her head before saying, "Okay, there you go. Now… please tell me if you feel like you're getting sick, okay?"
Jordan didn't answer; she snaked her hand around Dean's neck and pulled him to her, kissing him with such passion that it made her own head spin.
It was a moment before Dean regained his senses enough to be able to pull back, and when he did, he had to work at it to keep his breathing even. His eyes were alive with passion, but he kept his voice calm as he pointed out, "I asked you not to do that."
"S'ry… Coul'n't help it," Jordan said, her cheeks flushed.
"All right, Jordan, just stay in your seat," Dean told her before closing the door. He leaned against the Impala for a moment, let out a sharp breath that sounded like 'whew!' and shook his head before getting behind the wheel.
By the time they got back to the motel, Jordan was half delirious with sickness and exhaustion and half very much awake with a very keen desire to jump Dean. Lyn, on the other hand, was near to hyperventilation with laughter as she muttered something about the real reason they put streetlamps on city streets.
"Okay, Jordan, we're here," Dean announced as he turned the engine off and turned around to check that she was still conscious. She was, though he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Shaking his head, he got out and opened the door for her. "Uh, can you walk?" he asked uncertainly.
Jordan grinned as flirtatiously as an extremely drunk person can. "'F course I can, De…" She got up, holding onto Dean's arm, and successfully, surprisingly, got out of the car without falling.
"Doing good so far," Dean encouraged, watching her intently so that he could catch her if she stumbled. "Just don't fall… it's not that far…"
Jordan's ankle buckled and she fell into Dean, her hands shooting out to steady herself and finding solace on Dean's chest. She giggled and looked up at him, her smile never leaving her face.
"I got you," Dean assured her, holding her steady with one hand on her shoulder and one on her waist. "Do you want me to carry you the rest of the way? You're probably gonna break your ankle, otherwise…"
"Mkay, De," she said wistfully, her eyes never leaving his. Dean half smiled at her tone as he picked her up bridal-style and carried her the remainder of the distance to the motel room. The harder part was managing to unlock the door while still carrying her, but that he managed, too, and finally put her down on the bed, carefully so as not to jostle her head or stomach. Whether she had a hangover yet was unclear, but he didn't want to make her sick.
Jordan grabbed Dean's shoulders and pulled him onto the bed with her. "De… Lay with me…" she said and pulled him to her side, wrapping his arms around her waist.
Dean sighed and agreed. "All right, all right. But nothing funny, Jordan, you're still really drunk."
Jordan grinned mischievously and tangled her legs with his, resting her head on his chest. "Than's, De… 'nd 'm not that drunk… Y'know… fer some weird r's'n… I r'lly wanna jump ya…"
Dean chuckled quietly. "Yes, Jordan, you are that drunk. And that's why, too."
"Nuh uh… 'S 'cause you's were in th' cohm – somethin'… 'N I mist ya… Then evr'thin' was weird… 'n I want'd thin's ta go back ta norm'l," Jordan murmured, snuggling into Dean's side and holding him tighter, as if afraid he might disappear.
For a moment, that proclamation left Dean speechless. His eyes turned sad as he gently stroked her hair and murmured in a low voice to himself, "I wish it could, too, Jordan… but it can't be normal, like this… We can pretend it is… but that doesn't change anything."
"De… Kiss me?" Jordan asked, looking up at him.
As he looked down at her, half surprised by the seemingly random request, Dean hesitated. He didn't have an excuse like drunkenness for the way he felt at that point, but then again, he never did. He stared down at her for a moment, trying to memorize the pattern of the gold flecks in her deep brown eyes as if he thought he might never see them again, and then slowly leaned over and pressed his lips gently to hers. Her breath smelled strongly of alcohol, but as he traced the side of her face with the very tips of his fingers, that fact didn't bother him.
Jordan snaked her hand around to the back of his neck, the other hand on his waist, pulling him closer as his eyes fluttered shut. He didn't fight her on this, but after a few more long seconds, Dean pulled back, resisting her grip on his neck and breaking away. He brushed a strand of hair out of her face and than placed a fingertip on her lips.
"I agreed to kiss you, Jordan," he said quietly. "But you are still drunk, and you mean more to me than that. That's all I'm going to do tonight."
Jordan nodded, her eyes welling up with tears. "S'rry, De… I –
Her eyes went wide and she suddenly got up, stumbling to the bathroom and making it just in time to throw up in the toilet. Dean followed silently, mostly to be sure she didn't fall and crack her head open on the sink or something, and gently rubbed his hand across her back as she knelt on the bathroom floor. He knew it was little comfort at the moment, but it was all he could do.
Jordan's entire body convulsed as the contents of her stomach emptied. After what seemed like an eternity, she was able to collapse on the floor, too tired to move. "You'll feel better in the morning," Dean murmured soothingly as he carried her back to bed. "Not much, probably, until you get some coffee and a lot of rest… but still some better."
"Love you, De…" Jordan said quietly before drifting off to sleep.
"Izzwe there yet, Sammeh?" Lyn asked in a strange sort of sing-song voice. She had long ago gotten bored with her cell phone and was currently drumming out a random tune on the back of the seat in front of her. "Youza been sayin' we'd be there soon for aaaaaages…"
"Yes, Lyn, we're here," Sam said as he got out of the car, shoved the keys in his pocket, and opened Lyn's door. "Need help?"
For a minute, Lyn was highly confused by the fact that the seatbelt buckle release button was on the wrong side, but once she figured that out, she jumped out of the car, nearly tripped over Sam, and caught herself on the side of the car, which she then collapsed against, laughing insanely.
Sam's eyebrows shot up. "Lyn? Let's get back to our room, okay? You need your rest."
"Rest, shmest," Lyn said, still choking back a laugh every now and again. "You needsta gimme my keys back, a'cause you ain't a-drivin' my car ag'in, ever. Nob'dy drives mah car bu' me, dadburnit… C'rse J'rd'n ta a week've hangover hell fer a-makin' me go ennywheres…"
Sam pulled the keys out of his pocket and handed them to Lyn. Sam finally just picked Lyn up in his arms and carried her into the motel, putting her down in front of the door to their room. He unlocked the door and picked her up again, kicking the door shut behind him and setting her down on the bed. (They have separate rooms.)
"'Ey, Sammeh, wha' taim izzit?" Lyn wondered, blinking at him strangely. "I wud check misself, on'y mah phone wen' all dark an' stuff an' don' work no mores…"
"It's two thirty-seven." Sam took Lyn's purse and put it on the table, then went to the door and locked it.
"Two thir'y-se'en," Lyn repeated, pausing for a moment to look as if she were trying to comprehend something and then asked slowly, "An' how far izzat frum two for'y-ayt?"
"Eleven minutes," Sam answered, lying down in the king-sized bed next to Lyn.
"Huh," she muttered, gazing thoughtfully at the ceiling. "So tha's 'levin minnets ta five years an' five years an' ayt munths a'fore that."
She wrinkled her brow, as if pondering this, and then turned her head to look over at Sam and mused aloud, "Wud five years an' a diff'r'nt five years make ten years, or wuddit go da udder way an' be none?"
"I dunno, Lyn… That's an interesting question. I'll ask Dean tomorrow…" Sam muttered, falling asleep.
There was a silence, and then Lyn poked Sam hard in the side. "Sammeh… Sammeh!" she whispered, as if being quiet was supposed to make up for nearly impaling him on her fingernail. "Can's I borry yer phone, purty pleez?"
"Why, Lyn? Don't you have your own phone?" Sam asked, opening his eyes and catching Lyn's wrist, holding onto it to avoid further poking.
Lyn rolled her eyes rather exaggeratedly. "I toldja, I pusheded too many buttins and i' wen' all darkish an' don' work no mores…"
"Lyn… You need to go to sleep… And most people are already asleep, so nobody's gonna answer their phones," Sam mumbled, turning on his stomach and burying his face in his pillow.
"I don'ts wantsta call nob'dy," Lyn complained in a mutter. "I wantsta kno' th' taim! I wantsta kno' when itz two for'y-ayt…"
"Fine… 's in my pocket," Sam mumbled almost inaudibly.
"Whi'sh pocket?" Lyn asked in a complaining-type of voice. "You'z no help, Sammeh…" Sighing as if undertaking some great effort, she rolled over toward him and tugged something out of his back pocket; it was rectangular, but made of leather. His wallet. "Oi, whyzu hidin' yer cell phone frumme, ennyways?" she grumbled before throwing the wallet randomly and finally locating the aforementioned cell phone in the other back pocket of his jeans. She opened it and the screen lit up, but the numbers were tiny and… kinda fuzzy…
Looking shiftily around for a second, Lyn poked him in the side again, not quite so hard this time. "Uh… Sammeh…? Wha' taim duzzis thin' say…?"
Sam sat up with a sigh, leaning against the headboard and looking at the phone. "Two forty-five."
Lyn's nose wrinkled as she thought. "So tha' leaf's… uhh… three minnuts, righ'?"
"Yup," Sam said, watching Lyn in amusement.
"Mm," she murmured, tapping her fingers together for a few seconds. Then she looked back over and asked, "Now wha' taim izzit?"
"Still two forty-five," Sam reported, grinning at her look of annoyance and impatience.
Lyn sighed heavily and crossed her arms, staring up at the ceiling. "'Ey, Sammeh…? Iz mah phone ded…?"
Sam took Lyn's cell phone and looked at it, pressing a few buttons. He laughed quietly to himself and replied, "No, Lyn. It's still alive – just out of battery."
"Oh." There was a short pause and then she asked, "So nob'dy can callit, th'n?"
"Nope, I'm afraid not."
Lyn nodded slowly, then abruptly fell back with an 'oof' onto her pillow. "Mkay. Gud."
"You tired?" Sam asked, looking down at Lyn, his eyes betraying the love he felt for her.
"A li'l," Lyn admitted. She paused and then asked, "Izzit two for'y-ayt yet?"
"Almost. Two forty-seven." Sam watched her carefully, waiting to see exactly what would happen at two forty-eight.
"Almos' on'y counts 'n horsshues 'n' han' gr'nades, tho'… an' I ain' got nunnuv eiver righ' now. Heh… pro'lly a gud thin'… def'nitly wuz a'fore…"
"Lyn, it's two forty-eight," Sam said, looking at his cell phone.
Lyn's jaw clenched for a second as she stared at the ceiling; then her eyes shifted to the side, to Sam. For the shortest of split seconds, there was some sort of dread in her gaze, as if she was afraid of what she might see. The expression cleared instantly, though, and then she smiled faintly at him for a moment before saying quietly, "I l'vyu, Sammeh."
Sam smiled back at her. "I love you, too, Lyn." He brought his hand down to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. "You feeling okay? Want me to get you some Advil?"
"Yez, pleass," Lyn answered, nodding and looking perfectly normal – well, as normal as she could be when she was drunk – again. "Two uv 'em. 'N you shud call Dean 'n' make shore he givez J'rd'n Adv'l, too, a'cuz she'll wake up sicker'n a dawg 'f she duzz'n't…"
Sam grabbed his duffel off the table and walked back to the bed. He pulled a water bottle and a bottle of Advil out of it and shook two pills into his palm, then handed the pills and the water to Lyn. "I'll call him now."
Her gaze followed him around the room almost suspiciously, but she quickly took the water bottle and Advil when he gave them to her. "Than's," she said with a faint smile. "An' iffe c'mplains, tellim iffe don' givver none, she'll feel horr'bul in th' mornin' an' then she'll kick 'im later, mkay?"
"Okay, I'll make sure to tell him that," Sam said with a smile as he pulled his cell phone out of his pocket again and dialed Dean's number.
After two rings, Dean picked up the phone, hissing in a low whisper, "This had better be important, Sammy, Jordan's finally feeling good enough to sleep and you about woke her up."
Sam sighed and huffed. "She's already asleep!? I was calling to get you to give her some ibuprofen. Lyn says… in her own words, minus the drunken slurring, 'if he doesn't give her any, she'll feel horrible in the morning, and then she'll kick him later.'"
You could almost hear the smirk in Dean's voice as he asked, "Who'll kick me, Jordan or Lyn?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "Jordan, Dean… Jordan will kick you. Seems like something she would do, and I trust Lyn on this, regardless of level of intoxication. Wake her up and give her Advil."
"She'll kick me for waking her up, too," Dean grumbled.
"She'll thank you later," Sam replied. "How's she doing, by the way?"
"Before or after puking her guts out and almost passing out on the bathroom floor? … Hey, that sounds about like you with a hangover, Sammy."
"Shut up, jerk… Just give her the pills and let her go back to sleep," Sam said, boring holes into the wall with his eyes.
"All right, fine, bitch. But you're right, anyway; she handles it much more like a man than you do."
Sam just rolled his eyes. "You're an asshat, Dean…" he said and then hung up.
He turned back to Lyn, and smirked when he realized that she was already sound asleep. He walked over, moved her so that she was lying on her side, and covered her with blankets before stripping down to just boxers and a worn t-shirt. He then got into bed next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist protectively before letting sleep overtake him.
Dean smirked and shoved his phone back in his pocket before looking over at Jordan and sighing. Yeah, this wasn't going to be fun. After grabbing a bottle of water and spending a good couple of minutes digging for Advil in his duffel bag, he got a couple of those, too, and then sat down on the bed next to Jordan again.
"Hey," he said in a low voice as he shook her shoulder gently. "Wake up for a second, Jordan."
Jordan groaned and wrinkled her brow, wincing at the sudden noise and movement that made her head throb painfully. "G' 'way," she mumbled into the blankets surrounding her.
"I'm sorry," Dean apologized, but continued tugging on her shoulder, anyway. "Come on, get up. Just for a minute. Lyn's making me get you up and give you Advil."
"Imma… keek you," Jordan ground out as she turned on her back and sat up, looking out through half-lidded eyes at Dean.
Dean chuckled. "Yeah, I told Sam that, but he wouldn't listen. But you just have to wake up for a second and take these pills, and then you can go right back to sleep, okay?"
"M'kay… Remind me to kick Sammeh later," she mumbled as she took the water and pills from him. "Bottoms up," she almost whispered before throwing the pills back and washing them down with a huge gulp of water.
"Will do," Dean said, grinning. "I'll even hold him for you, if you want. But how are you feeling?"
"Be'n bet'r. 'Speshly since someone d'cided ta wake me up… Ya owe me now…" Jordan then used all her strength to pull Dean down next to her and wrap her arms around him and rest her head on his chest. "This's yur pun'shm'nt mist'r…"
Dean smirked. "Ah, well. I'll just have to live with it, then, I guess. But you do need to rest, you know."
"Gladly…" She closed her eyes again and, in what seemed like seconds, he was asleep again, her arms still around Dean, her head resting in the crook of his neck. He pulled her a little closer and breathed in the scent of her hair; at least that still smelled pretty much normal. Either way, he was glad to still have her with him. It had only been a month, though; he still had time to figure something out.