Chapter 3, Getting it Together

After a preliminary visual scan of the street below Cassie's apartment, Dean pulled into the parking lot of the hotel where Sam and Cassie were staying and found his way into the
building. Sam had rented two connected rooms on the third floor. As soon as he knocked, Ellie threw open the door and, seeing her dad, flung her arms around him.

"Daddy!" She grinned.

Sam, who was sitting at the desk with his laptop open in front of him, several pages of notes on his right, looked up startled.

"Ellie." Sam said, his voice disapproving. "What did I say about opening the door to suspicious looking drifters?" He cracked a smile when Dean threw him a look.

"Nice to see you too, Sam," Dean said dryly, scooping up his daughter and giving her a dark curls a kiss.

"But, it's Dad." Ellie protested, her uncle's sarcasm lost on her.

"But you didn't know that," Dean chided seriously. He set the six year old on the bed and looked her in the eyes. "From now on, only Uncle Sam, me or mom answers the door. Got it?"

Ellie nodded unhappily.

"Ellie," Dean's firm voice prompted.

"Yes, dad." Ellie conceded with a sigh, before flopping gustily onto the bedspread.

Dean looked ruefully at Sam, before dumping his bag in the closet. Sam responded with tacit sympathy (he had a five year old himself). Ellie had been cooped up all day in the hotel room and she was starting to bounce off the walls. The only thing she had to play with was the hotel stationary because when fleeing for your life, toys and puzzles were hardly on the top priority list.

"Where's Cassie?" Dean asked.

"Mom had to go to work." Ellie supplied, jumping up from the bed. "Look, Dad, I made you a picture!"

"That's great, sweetie." Dean replied with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He glanced over at Sam's notes and helped himself to some coffee. "So, where do we store the squirt while we do our thing?" Dean inquired.

"But Daaad" Ellie whined, apparently unaware that "Dad" was a one syllable word, "I wanna go with you." The brother's ignored the outburst.

"Well, as soon as you shave," Sam said pointedly, "we'll drop Ellie off at daycare and check out the apartment. You're looking a little shady there." Dean had obviously headed out without much regard for appearances, 'cause his shirt looked like he had slept in it and there was definitely stubble on his face. "I think Dad already has the disheveled, broody stranger with a past look covered, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, but swiped one of the disposable razors from his brother's toiletry kit and made fun of his shaving gel (helping himself to a healthy dollop) while he shaved.

"Oh, and I'm sure you usually just dry shave with your hunting knife" Sam teased back, going back to his research.

"That's roight, mate." Dean said in his best Crocodile Dundee impression. Dean winked at Ellie as she came in to watch. She giggled as he planted a glob of shaving cream on her nose with his thumb.

"So, I checked… or I should say Officer O'Reilly checked the local morgues for any corpses that may have gone MIA, but nobody's talking. We may want to check the one of 82nd tonight, if we don't pick up any leads. There have been a string of robberies in this neighborhood that may have something to do with whatever it was. Obviously, we'll know more once we actually check out the apartment," Sam called from the bedroom.

"Sounds good," Dean said with a grin as he emerged from the bathroom and threw on a clean shirt.