I don't own the Winchesters or the Dukes.
.~o()o~.
In a matter of minutes, the Impala was set up with a CB of its own and Luke and Sam were crouched in the bushes outside the police station waiting for the signal. They were barely in position before the General came careening around the corner. In less than a minute, two cop cars were pulling out, lights flashing and sirens going.
Luke put his hand on Sam's shoulder and said, "Let's go." They walked nonchalantly up to the doors and stepped inside. "This way to the office," Luke said.
Before long they stood in front of three sets of filing cabinets, every single drawer marked M for Miscellaneous. "How the hell are we supposed to find anything in here?" Sam grumbled.
"I know it's a mess, but Enos is in charge of filing and we are not sure whether or not he really knows the alphabet. Start with the emptiest drawers first, they are most likely to carry new files. There have been six murders since September 16th and the files will all be under the names of the girls."
"Do you know the names of the girls?" Sam asked.
"That is the weird thing about these murders," Luke replied. "No one actually knows who was taken, just the families and the police and they aren't talking. We can't even figure it out by who we haven't seen lately because every family with daughters has locked them away. I have no idea how it could be a secret in a small town like Hazzard, but it has become the only successfully kept secret since Jedediah Higgard passed away in 1932 and his widow kept collecting his pension until she died three years later."
After that, they worked in silence flipping through the files, occasionally pulling one out to rifle through it before placing it back in. In this way they worked through all three cabinets and they had nothing to show for it.
"This isn't right. Enos' system sucks, but he wouldn't leave something like this out. So where are the files?" Luke scratched his head as he and Sam stared at the drawer they had just finished going through. It was full to the bursting, but contained no mention of the murdered girls. Suddenly Sam caught sight of single sheet of paper, crumpled and shoved down the side of the drawer. He carefully pulled it out. It was stuck pretty tight so it took a lot of wiggling and short tugs, but he finally got it out in one piece. All it contained was a list of six names, all girls and all in the right age range.
"That has to be it. Let's go back to your car and signal Bo to come back in."
.~o()o~.
Dean was just about ready to shoot himself in the head. They had been driving all over the county for about half an hour but it felt like days. The cop cars had been just behind them the entire time, and usually Dean would have relaxed and allowed himself to enjoy the speed, but he was getting a little sick of Bo's running commentary on the high speed chase.
"Alright, we're going to take Maple Creek Lane and then pull a quick right toward the mill pond," Bo chattered on.
If I cared, I would ask, Dean thought to himself as Bo, with a big grin and a laugh, proceeded to do exactly what he had said.
"YAHOO!" Bo let out another ear-splitting yell. Dean cringed and wished it was all over.
Finally, a voice crackled over the CB. "Breaker, breaker, Black Sheep to Lost Sheep. We have all we are going to get. Lose the Big Bad Wolf and head back to the farm. Over."
"Right Luke, losing Rosco now! Ha ha! Over!" Bo looked over at Dean and the look in his eye sent a shiver right through Dean's core. "Time to fly!"
Dean gulped as they turned directly toward the creek bed and Bo let loose with a shout that outshone them all. Dean felt an uncomfortable lurching sensation in the pit of his stomach and he made the mistake of looking out the window and seeing the ground much too far below them. Then he just closed his eyes and tried to breathe as the floating sensation continued. They hit with a jerk that rattled up his spine. He tasted blood in his mouth from when he had bitten his tongue. He kept his eyes closed long enough for his breathing to slow and then peeked at Bo.
Bo was still laughing and chattering away, all hyped up on adrenaline. Forget shooting himself in the head, it was time to give Bo a good old salt and burn!
They were pulling into the farmyard in less than ten minutes. Dean crawled out of the car as soon as it quit moving and walked on shaky legs over to Sam.
"Dude, I concede. I am not getting back in that car with him," he said as soon as he reached Sam's side.
"What changed your mind?" Sam laughed.
Dean scowled. "That boy is just way too happy. Everything's all, 'YAHOO' and 'Let's jump the friggin' creek.' I am not climbing into that death trap beside that maniac."
Sam grasped Dean's shoulder and looked square into his eyes, putting on his best psychiatrist face. "Was it because you were flying? Did it force you to face your fears?"
Dean shrugged his hand off angrily. "At least planes have wings. They are supposed to fly. Cars are meant to stay on the ground."
"And how does this make you feel?" Sam spoke calmly and quietly, barely holding back his grin.
"Shut up Sam!" Dean growled and turned to look at Luke. "Whatcha got?"
Luke handed him the torn piece of paper containing six names and a handwritten note that said, Still looking for connection to the Duke boys. Dean raised one eyebrow and looked at him.
"That's all you found?" Dean was incredulous.
"Unfortunately, yes. It seems that the police have buried this one and they want it to stay buried. And by the way, you two don't fool me one bit," Luke replied.
"Oh yeah?" Dean said.
"I know ya ain't FBI, so what are ya?"
"Let's just say my brother and I travel around, looking for criminals and we stop them." Sam jumped in.
"Brothers, huh? I would never have guessed. So are you bounty hunters then?"
"I guess that's as good a name as any," Dean said. "But if you don't mind, we really would like to keep moving."
"If it makes any difference, we trust you more knowin' that you're not the law," Bo chimed in, grinning again.
Dean laughed and clapped them on the shoulder. "Men after my own heart!"
"Hate to break up this moment of male bonding, but I really think we should decide where to go next," Sam said.
"Ok," Luke said. "We have the names of the victims now, so lets go pay their families a visit. Sam and I will go for the east side and talk to the families of Mary-Sue Jenkins, Bobby-Jo Mahoney and Bessie-Lou Payne. Bo, you and Dean will go west with Elisabeth-Anne Montgomery, Jennie-Lee Mitchell and Clementine Rogers."
"Ok, except for one small change. Sammy is going to go with Bo and I am going to be back behind the wheel of my baby where I belong. And don't you dare say another word, Sam." Sam stood there with his mouth open for a split second, then snickered. "And you still need to check in every hour, if not every half an hour."
Sam sighed. "Love you too, Mom. Let's go, Bo," he said as he walked away.
When they reached the car, Sam found the first flaw in this plan. "How the heck am I supposed to fit myself in there?" he complained.
"Just get your legs through and the rest will just slide right in," Bo chuckled. "Watch." He jumped feet first through the window and was sitting behind the wheel in a matter of moments. Sam stood looking at him jealously.
"It's the legs that are the problem." Sam grumbled. He picked up one foot and stepped inside but the other leg proved more problematic. "I don't think legs are supposed to bend this way," he mumbled to himself before finally, awkwardly sliding into the passenger seat.
They were mostly silent until they got out of town.
"Alright, so what is the closest one?" Sam asked.
"That would be Mary-Sue's." And with a loud 'YAHOO' they were turning right down a dirt road in a huge cloud of dust, going well over the speed limit.
Again they sat silently for a while. Bo was the first to speak up. "Brother's, huh?" At Sam's short nod, he continued. "How did you get into the bounty hunting business?"
"If you don't mind," Sam said. "I will wait until we are better acquainted before sharing my life story."
They lapsed back into an uncomfortable silence. The dirt road continued on before them, clear and straight for many miles, which is why it came as shock when the orange front end crumpled like tin foil and they flipped end over end exactly as if they had hit a low brick wall.
Sam reached up to protect his head as the roof rushed toward him and felt the agonizing pop and wrench of dislocation in both his elbow and his shoulder. His head met the roof of the General with a sharp crack and then everything became a blur of flashing white lights and crushing, tearing metal. He yelled aloud in fear and pain and thought he could hear an answering yell from the driver's seat. Then his world slowly shrank away to blackness.
.~o()o~.
A/N: Did I not promise you some more action? Read and review please!