"Lory! Babe, we're back!" Dean called as he and Sam trudged in, loosening ties, carelessly tossing jackets on beds.

He gave the bathroom door a couple of thumps.

"We're back, babe," he repeated through the door.

But when there was no answer, he pushed open the unlocked door and stepped into the blackened bathroom.

"Lory?"

The panic rose in his voice as he flipped up the light switch, despite the unlikelihood that she could be sitting on the toilet, in the dark wearing headphones.

"Is she not here?" asked Sam, his voice hinting slight concern.

"No!"

Dean charged straight for the door.

"Wait," Sam said, stepping in front of him, "Don't panic. Maybe she's at the vending machine. Or getting some food. You did leave her some cash."

"We passed the vending machine on the way in here, Sam, and she wouldn't go anywhere without leaving a note."

"Maybe she didn't think it was a big enough deal to leave a note. She might be out for just a few minutes, getting some air."

"She doesn't have a room key!"

"Well, Lory's a smart girl. I mean, she could have timed us so we could get back first. She'll probably come walking in here any minute. There's no sign of a struggle."

Sam was more so soothing himself aloud than concerning himself with Dean's anxiety. He wasn't doing much comfort either of them at any rate. Still, Dean took just a brief moment to swish Sam's words around in his head.

"I'm going to look for her," he concluded finally.

"I'm coming with," Sam nodded, his feelings quickly overriding his own rationality

"You need to stay here in case she comes back."

Dean pointed at Sam and then the floor to reinforce his statement.

Sam shook his head adamantly.

"Nuh uh. I'm going."

"If you're right, then she's going to need someone to let her in."

"Wonderful, then you stay here and I'll go look for her," Sam challenged, crossing his arms.

Dean's arms folded in a similar manner.

"Except she's not your girlfriend… Like it or not."

Sam could feel the bile behind that last thought.

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that I have eyes."

Sam's mouth opened and closed and opened again. Had he been able to conjure a response, it would have been cut off by the knock on the door.

"Boys?" called the voice from outside.

With an acrid look at his brother, which told Sam that they had not yet reached the end of that particular conversation, Dean's hand shot for the doorknob.

Lory beamed.

"Hey."

She pecked Dean on the cheek and sashayed toward their bed.

"'Hey'?" Dean repeated with indignant incredulousness as he turned on his heels to face her, "Lory, where the hell were you? I was worried out my mind."

She scoffed, "Sorry, Dad. You weren't even here long to worry about me, I just saw you pull up."

"I was about to go looking for you!" he continued, crossing over to her, "You didn't leave a note or an…"

She reached under Dean's suit jacket and presented a folded piece of bright yellow paper, recognizably from Sam's legal pad.

"You were saying?"

Sam smirked at Lory and then at his brother, the gesture switching sentiments accordingly.

Dean cleared his throat.

"Okay…Well, where were you?"

His tone didn't wane severity.

"I was at the morgue. I thought we could save time if I helped you out by doing some digging while you were talking to the mortician. The hospital is just up the road, I thought 'why not?'"

Dean stilled his slight pang of guilt.

"They just let you walk right into the morgue?"

"I told the guy I was a reporter," she shrugged.

Sam's eyebrows arched toward his hairline.

"And they bought it?"

"No… Not exactly. The guy gave me a little trouble, but I appealed to his better nature," she smiled proudly.

"Oh?" Dean frowned, his voice gaining a slight rasp, "And how exactly did you do that?"

"I sucked his dick, Dean," Lory said smartly, "Is that what you want me to say so you can chew me out some more? I gave him the twenty you left me. I figured it was a more worthwhile cause than a hamburger."

Though he enjoyed watching Lory put his brother in his place, Sam dove for the meat of the conversation.

"Well, what did you find out?"

After a quick glare at Dean, Lory brought her eyes to Sam.

"Well, he says he didn't know anything about any missing body parts post-mortem."

"He could be lying, " Dean shrugged quickly.

"Yeah, except, no, he couldn't because I'm a psychic," she quipped, giving her head a smug toss to the side, "His vibes were all clear."

"So it's definitely Egar," Sam nodded, "Good. Now all that's left is the stake-out." He wet his lips and smiled at Lory, "Good work."

"Thank you, Sam, it's rather nice to be appreciated," said Lory sweetly, but finishing her last thought with a spiteful sneer at Dean, who returned it.

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"And for you, beautiful…"

Dean ruffled through the brown paper bag and pulled out a large burger, wrapped in thin foil. He presented it to Lory with a large, hopeful smile. She took it wryly.

"Thanks."

He leaned in for a kiss, but swiftly, Lory swung her legs around the other side of the bed and slid off it, and Dean ended up smooching the air.

"Oh, come on, baby… You're not still mad at me, are you?" he half-whined.

"Nope," she replied flatly.

"Then gimme a kiss…"

He crawled across the bed, poking out his bottom lip.

"Nope."

"Aw, come on! You are mad!"

"No shit, Sherlock."

Rising from the bed behind her, Dean encircled her in his arms.

"You know I love you…."

He took extra special care to make his breath beat on her earlobe and the side of the neck.

"Do I?"

Trailing his lips down the slope of her shoulder, Dean brought his hands to brace her upper arms.

He whispered softly, "Why do you think I was worried sick about you?"

"Because you have control issues..?" she trailed half-jokingly.

He spun her around and bent to her height with a serious glint in his eyes.

"Because everyone I love…."

Dean looked down and took a deep breath. Lory was instantly remorseful.

"Dean…I am so sorry…"

Her fingers gently brushed his jaw line, and Dean leaned into her touch, and then turned into her hand, kissing her palm.

"I mean, me and Sam- we're like roaches- cut off our heads and nuke us and we'll still be running around…But you…Something tells me that once you're gone, you're gone for good. Even if the angels could bring you back, I'm not about to take that chance."

"Dean, you don't have to hawk over me. I'm not going anywhere," she smiled sadly, a tear in her eye.

Neither of them were convinced.

"Lory, I made a vow that I would protect you no matter what, and that's what I'm going to do."

"But I was meant to help you guys!" she half-pleaded, "That's my purpose! How can I do that without getting my hands a little dirty?"

"There's plenty you can do to help without putting yourself in any sort of danger."

"Oh?" she deadpanned, "Like what?"

"Like, you could do my laundry- I'm terrible at sorting. And- and you could make the coffee for tonight's stake-out! Huh? Huhhh?"

"Oh, and while I'm at it, I can answer the phones, balance the checkbook and alphabetize the rolodex- all while in a pencil skirt and pumps!"

"See? There you go!" Dean smiled.

Lory rolled her eyes.

"You are insufferable, Dean Winchester…" she sighed.

Dean winked, "The thermoses are in the duffle bag,"

Lory jumped with the audible smack on her bottom.

Sam had been lying on his back, nibbling his chicken wrap with his headphones in. He had been staring at the ceiling, the entire time (why the feuding couple acted so candidly) but little did Dean and Lory know, no music was playing. He snuck a few periodic glances from his periphery, and quickly regretted his last as his brother's groping hand seemed to squeeze at Lory in slow motion.

"Dean!" she yelped.

"You love it…"

Sam's eyes rolled back to their place- fixed on the ceiling.

What a jackass.

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Dean's voice was stern but not severe.

"Lory, I'm telling you, if shit goes down and me and Sam gotta get out-"

"I stay in the car no matter what," she recited with a roll of her eyes.

"That's my girl."

Sam turned to her from the passenger's seat and smiled gently.

"You don't have to worry about staying up if you get tired. We'll wake you if something important happens."

Dean thought he saw him wink at her and he narrowed his eyes, flashing them between the road and his brother.

"How chivalrous," she smiled, "but I want to be one-hundred-percent up and at 'em for this one. This Egar guy sounds like a real creeper."

A bit more than two hours passed. There hadn't been much talking. There had, however, been several subtle glares and sidelong glances- between the brothers, that is; the occasional "Are you all right?" or "How you doing back there?" from either Winchester to Lory, usually followed by more glares and glances; and her perpetual puzzlement at the unspoken tension.

"Is he even home?" Lory sighed, having long lost her romanticized expectations.

"Car's in the driveway," Dean observed, "Don't look like you can do much of anything here without a car."

"Maybe he's 'round the other side of the house…" Lory suggested.

They hadn't been able to see very much from the window of the embalming room with the dim overhead work-lamp as the only source of light. But as dim as the light source was, it was the only in the entire house- that is, until the moment Sam pointed a long finger at the newly illuminated upper-level window.

"Wait, something's moving upstairs."

Two silhouettes- one, short, slumped and male; the other, long, elegant and female- stood front and center in the curtained window, just as plain as if they were on television. The slender hand touched the abnormally wide face, and the male hands gripped.

"What the hell is that?" Sam asked no one in particular.

"Looks like Old Ludo got himself a lady friend…" Dean trailed amusedly.

Sam scoffed, "From where? The red light district of Trevose, Maryland?"

"Whoa-ho!" Lory exclaimed when, out of nowhere, the two began to fervently caress each other and collapse on the bed.

Dean whipped around and winked.

"That doin' anything for you, baby?"

"How is this happening?" Sam asked with a slacked jaw.

"Right? I mean, judging from that body, she's gotta be younger than thirty," Dean exhaled, his head crooking to the side slightly.

"Or she's a sixty who did some nippin', tuckin'…" Lory added haughtily.

Dean cringed, saying under his breath, "I like the first one better."

"I'll bet," she said dangerously.

"B-b-but, I mean…" he began shakily, "but it's nothing compared to your hot, voluptuous, curvaceous-"

"Shush, Dean."

"Yes, ma'am."

.