We are now between Playthings and Nightshifter. There's gotta be a bridge of some sort between the two, right? Heehee.

After the events at Pierpont Inn with the Thompson family, Dean had driven to whatever hotel he could think of – which was probably one of the tackiest he and his brother had ever stayed in – and started looking for news articles that even remotely looked like a case, while Sam, on his laptop, used the Internet to his full advantage toward the same end.

Neither one was saying a word; it was honestly getting on Dean's nerves. Silence was no fun.

"We should go somewhere, Sammy," Dean finally said. "We're getting nowhere with the research right now."

"Why, Dean?" Sam asked, clicking a link on his computer.

"Because you're being moody and I don't like it," Dean replied.

"We're supposed to be doing research."

"Screw the research, Sammy! Let's have a little fun."

"Then go, Dean."

Ari turned into the motel parking lot, pulling out one of her ID cards and a credit card – both claimed her name was Aria Stevens.

"What's the local claim again, Pandora?" she said as she parked the car.

"Chalk-pale people kidnapping men and women who are never seen again," Pandora replied. "Latest victims are a newlywed couple named Diane and Victor Adams, leaving a movie theater. One witness – Lisa Anne Marshal."

"So we've got maybe three Strigoi in the area. Delightful," Ari said, opening the door and walking to the motel office, Jaime and Pandora close behind her. "Do we get two rooms or one with two beds and a couch?"

"One room, Ari, as usual," Jaime said, elbowing her in the ribs.

"All right, then."

The manager, a middle-aged man named Alan, greeted them with a smile. "Welcome to the Blue Tree. What can I do for you?"

"One room with two queen beds and a couch, if possible," Ari said.

"Okay," Alan said, clacking away at his keyboard. "What kind of car have you got?"

"1965 Ford Mustang convertible, Pennsylvania plates, 3MKR493, exterior color a very gorgeous Twilight Turquoise," Ari told him lightly.

The man's eyes bugged out at the description of the car. "Is there a car show in the area or something?"

"Why?"

"A couple guys with a black '67 Impala checked in about three hours ago," Alan said, glancing out the window before gesturing. "One of 'em's checking out your car right now."

Ari walked over to the window to observe a human male in a dark brown leather jacket staring at the turquoise Mustang reverently. Smirking, she turned to Pandora and Jaime and said, "Looks like Beauty's got a fan." She returned to the counter, signed the appropriate papers, and accepted one of two keys for the room they'd be in. "I'll meet you guys in the room after talking to this guy."

"Be careful, Ari, okay?" Pandora said, gripping her shoulder.

"As always."

The three left the office, the two dhampirs walking off toward their new motel room while Ari confidently approached the man in the leather jacket.

"Admiring my car?" she said, laughing as he spun, eyes bugging out just the same way the manager's had. "Before you ask, yes, she's mine. I've got every single bit of documentation I could require for her. Besides, the '67 Impala's on the same level."

The man gaped as she unlocked the trunk, pulling two suitcases from the depths – one containing six total charmed silver stakes and a heavy-duty silver chain, the other full of clothes – before he finally said, "She's an absolute beauty. Haven't seen one in Twilight Turquoise in a long time."

"Yeah, I'm finding it's a lot rarer than the typical red. Still, she's the best car I've ever had. Before her, I had a crap '02 Cavalier. White. Wrecked that thing within a month, it was so ugly," she said, laughing. "Wherever I go, she gains a fan club."

"Well, of course she does. I'm Dean."

"Ari."

Simple first name only introduction – must be a hunter himself, she thought, setting down the clothes suitcase and extending her hand. Dean shook it, grinning in a goofy way.

"What's your business in the area?" Ari asked, smirking.

"Just passin' through."

"No news articles to lead you here?"

"Should there be?"

Ari leaned close and winked. "I recognize a fellow hunter when I see one. Come see me, you and whoever you hunt with. Room 124. We're here on a case – we might need some assistance."

"Who's we?"

"Me and my two best friends. Be seeing you, Dean – sooner than later." And with that, Ari winked again and walked away.

The door of room 219 slammed quite noisily. "I thought you were going to a bar or something," Sam said, not looking up from the computer screen, even as Dean grabbed the copy of the local paper, reading the front page.

"Son of a bitch," he finally said, shoving the paper at Sam. "We just stumbled on a possible case, and we've got some help in store."

Sam, who set aside the laptop and read the article, a lower front page headline that read, COUPLE STILL MISSING – FRIENDS FRANTIC. The names of the missing couple, as well as the witness, were listed in the first paragraph, with a wedding photo of the couple to the right of the headline.

"Chalky pale?" Sam said, halfway to laughing. "Sounds like a bad makeup job to me."

"This chick says it's a case," Dean insisted.

"What chick?"

"Ari, just checked in, room 124, sweet car, red hair, really skinny, recognized me on sight as a hunter," he replied.

Sam shook his head. "We'll go see what she knows, Dean, but if it's a trap…"

"I know, I know, Sammy, but it's worth a look!"

Ten minutes after the encounter, Ari stuck a T.V. dinner in the motel room microwave just a second before a knock came to the door. Pandora snatched up one of the stakes from the couch, which was her bed, approaching the door and glancing through the peephole.

"Uh, Ari, did you invite that guy to our room?" she asked, looking at her charge.

"I did, him and whoever's working with him. His name's Dean. Why? Is he outside?" Ari replied, leaning against the wall beside the microwave.

"Yeah, with a guy who might be his younger brother."

"Let them in, then!" As she said this, she pressed play on a tape player she'd put on the television stand, unleashing the song Kashmir by Led Zeppelin, one of Ari's favorite songs.

Pandora opened the door, allowing Dean and his brother to enter. Dean's blue eyes lit up hearing the song and seeing Ari rather close to the tape player and the microwave.

"Not one of their best songs, but a pretty good one," he said, grinning. "What's this supposed case?"

"It's gonna take some explaining. Pandora, go get Jaime, please?" Ari said, just as the microwave beeped. She extracted the lasagna dish from the microwave, grabbed her fork, and sat down. As she did so, the brothers noticed the silver weapon in Pandora's hand, now held lax.

"You know that silver doesn't do crap to vampires, right?" the younger said.

"The average shark-vampire, maybe, but a charmed silver stake is the only way to deal with a Strigoi," she replied. "What's your name?"

"Sam."

"Nice to meet you, Sam."

"What the hell is a Strigoi? Is it anything like a Shtriga?"

"God, no. A Shtriga is a beast that exclusively preys on kids; a Strigoi doesn't give a damn who it kills. Human, dhampir, Moroi, werewolf, shark-vampire – no discrimination at all, just bloodlust. A Strigoi is one of the absolute worst creatures on Earth, just shy of an unleashed demon," Ari said, taking a bite and chewing before she continued. "This case has all the markers of at least three Strigoi – one who preys exclusively on couples and two who don't care. This latest couple? Both non-royal Moroi. They did not have guardians, and as such they were defenseless against the Strigoi who kidnapped them."

"We have reason to believe that the Strigoi may be working together, keeping these Moroi alive out of greed – Moroi blood makes them their strongest, which in turn makes them harder to kill," Pandora said, leading Jaime into the room, who was also armed with a silver stake.

"We can loan you each one stake, as long as we get them back, all right?" Jaime said, opening the suitcase and handing one stake to each brother. "Those things take a lot of cash to get."

Sam and Dean accepted the stakes, tucking them into their coats. "Now what?"

"We discuss bait," Ari said, following it with another bite as the song changed, from Led Zeppelin, to Metallica's Enter Sandman, probably Ari's favorite song in the world. As she chewed, she nodded her head to the beat. Dean did the same, even though he was engrossed in conversation with Jaime.

And I cut it. Again. Sorry. Couldn't resist the song references, guys!