Author's Note: I ate pudding to get in the zone, I'm totally ready for this chapter! The dance is so close, I'm buzzing with excitement! *flails!*

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

Chapter Fifteen

"You've reached Carl Wesson. I can't get to the phone right now, leave a message and I'll get back to you."

Hey, Dad. I made some calls. The best I can get is that Gordon finished a job in New Orleans a couple weeks back, some sort of possession or something. No one seems to know what he's up to now just that he's in a big stink to find the Winchesters. Martin Finley heard from Jo that Gordon was at the Roadhouse just after he finished the New Orleans job, said he was abnormally quiet yet charged up more than he usually is when he's Hunting. Whatever he's up to, Dad, be careful. I'll keep my phone with me during the practice SATs just in case. Love you, Dad.

…

Carl still hadn't called back when Nicole exited Mrs. Markle's classroom Saturday morning, practice test waiting to be graded among the others. Adam and Nathan followed close behind, backpacks swung over their shoulders.

"Man, I had that test in the bag!" Nathan punched the air as they walked down the hallway toward the front of the school.

Adam nodded, "Yeah, I was surprised at how easy it was. But then it's just the practice, maybe the real thing will be different."

"What's the point of practice test if the real one is nothing like it?" Nathan sauntered ahead of the others, his head lifted in pride.

"How do you think you did, Nicole?" Adam asked as he slipped his hand in hers.

Nicole nervously tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Well, you know it's just a practice test, so it doesn't really matter."

Nathan whirled around and began walking backwards as he talked, "Come on, you couldn't have done that bad, you're just as smart as Adam here. How'd you do?"

With as easy as the guys were making it sound, Nicole found it torture to choke out the words, "I told you I don't test well. I didn't even get to finish the math section and my essay was terrible. I probably bombed the whole thing."

"Hey, don't worry," Adam reassured, "If you did do really bad, we can help you improve for the real thing. It's not until the Spring, we'll have plenty of time."

"Yeah," Nathan bumped into door, not paying attention, but he covered it up by pushing the door open and holding it for the other two. "Why don't we go down the Oliver's and treat ourselves to a burger and fries? Will that cheer you up?"

"Sounds good," Adam grinned.

Nicole shook her head, "I can't."

"What?" Both boys exclaimed, "Why not?"

Nicole looked up apologetically, "I have to get ready for the dance."

Nathan glanced at his watch, "It's only noon, the dance isn't for another seven hours. What could you be doing that lasts seven hours?"

Nicole shrugged, "I don't know. Bethany just told me to pick her up when I was done here and she'd help me get ready. She said she could use all the time I could give her."

Adam ignored Nathan's baffled grunts as he was processing the information, "Don't worry about it. You have fun, I'll pick you up at quarter to seven."

Nicole nodded, hugging Adam before dashing off to her car and leaving the boys to their own designs. Bethany was waiting at the curb outside the salon, Melba in tow, when Nicole pulled up. Several large brown sacks were piled at their feet. Nicole climbed out to help them hoist the sacks into the truck bed before they all climbed into the cab and headed for Nicole's apartment.

"What's in the sacks?" Nicole asked.

Bethany tossed a cigarette to the curb before climbing in. "Just a few things we'll need to get you looking like a million bucks: a few curling irons, some hairspray, a pack of bobby pins, my make-up kit, a wax kit, a few other things I thought might come in handy."

"We need all that?" Nicole shot her a look of fear and amazement.

Melba patted her thigh, "Of course we do. It's a lot of work to look good for a man. In my sixty-five years, I've spent nearly ninety-five percent of my time just getting ready for a man. Half the time they don't notice, but if you don't do it, they complain like nobody's business. Take it from me."

"I hear you, girl," Bethany nodded, "Men want us to look good for them but damn if they can take a few seconds to compliment us. If I got a compliment from my ex-husband now and again, I wouldn't have divorced his lazy ass."

When they got to the apartment, they hauled the bags upstairs and soon the living room looked like a salon exploded in it. Bethany had come prepared with three different curling irons, each one bigger than the last, and they were all plugged in and heating up on the coffee table. Hair supplies, nail polish and make-up dotted every available surface. In the kitchen, Melba plugged in a pot full of wax that made Nicole nervous.

"What's the wax for?" She asked, peeking over Melba's shoulder.

"Honey, we gunna wax those legs of yours," Bethany called from the living room. "You're legs will be so smooth, they'll feel like silk. Now, go change into your robe and we'll get started."

"I don't-" Nicole began only to have Bethany thrust a fuzzy pink bathrobe into her hands.

"Get," She waved Nicole away as she busied around the room.

Nicole quickly changed, afraid to leave the two women alone for long. When she came back out, Bethany ushered her onto a bar stool and slid the other one across from her.

"Put your leg up here," She instructed as she stirred the wax.

"Are you sure about this?" Nicole asked even as Bethany and Melba tag teamed spreading wax on her leg.

In response, they plastered on the strips of paper and smoothed them out. Nicole didn't like the way this was going. She could only imagine what they were going to do next.

"Wait, what are you doing with-" Bethany seized the first strip and ripped it away. "Shit! Mothermmmmmm," Nicole took several breaths. It was worse than getting shot. "What the Hell did you do that for?"

"Watch your language," Melba covered her ears. "I'm too old to hear words like that."

Bethany laughed, "Oh, it's not that bad. You won't even feel the next one."

"Cause I'll be numb!" Nicole exclaimed.

Bethany seized another strip and ripped it away. Nicole bit her lip and clenched her fists, swallowing a whole string of nasty expletives. After ripping several more off, Bethany ran her hand over Nicole's leg.

"See, that's not so bad. And I bet you've never gotten such smoothness from shaving," She beamed.

Nicole held her tongue, only glared at Bethany.

"Don't give me that!" Bethany waved a finger at her, "You'll thank me tomorrow after you've had the time of your life with Mr. Lucky Man."

When they were finished with both legs, Nicole felt like she'd just spent all night in a cage with a demon. If they asked her to walk around, she would have pulled out her gun and shot them both. Luckily, she stayed on the stool and Bethany moved to her hair while Melba selected a nail polish. Bethany washed Nicole's hair in the kitchen sink before blow drying it and adding a touch of mousse. Then the curling began.

Melba and Bethany chattered away as they worked, talking about kids and grandkids, husbands, ex-husbands, old boyfriends. Nicole only half listened as her head was tugged one way, her hand the other. Bethany slipped a few times and the iron singed Nicole's scalp. Each time, she'd jerk and Melba would whack her hand, commanding her to be still so she didn't mess up her nails. For Nicole, it was hours of torture far beyond anything a spirit could work up.

At five o'clock, Bethany announced her work was complete while Melba declared the nails dry and ready for anything. Nicole sighed with relief, "I thought you'd never be done."

"Sugar, you gotta pamper yourself more," Bethany insisted. "If you did, it wouldn't be so bad."

"If I did, I would never feel my legs again," Nicole countered, jumping off the stool and opening the fridge. She pulled out more Chinese leftovers and tossed a carton in the microwave.

"What are you doing?" Melba gasped.

Pulling the heated food from the microwave, Nicole shrugged, "Eating. I'm hungry. You want some?"

"Of course I want some, but you shouldn't be eating," Melba rushed to her side and tried to take the container.

Nicole pulled it back defensively, "Excuse me? I'm hungry, why can't I eat?"

"You still need to fit into your dress," Melba said by way of explanation as she heated up her own container.

Nicole shoved a spoonful into her mouth and chewed obnoxiously, "I'll still fit."

Bethany joined them in the kitchen, selecting a container of Chinese for herself, "I wish I had your body, Sugar. If I was as young as you, I'd eat whatever I wanted anytime I wanted."

"That's right," Melba agreed, "Us older ladies have to watch ourselves. We don't want our hips to suddenly expand."