"Bella Talbot, please. We've got a few questions for her." Dean said pleasantly, flashing a fake FBI ID at the redhead secretary. Sam smiled tightly at her. Always the nervous part for him. He didn't exude charm and confidence like Dean did.

"Just a minute." She said, wiggling her cute ass as she walked away. Normally, Dean would've been all over that. But now his charade slipped she he gave Sam an infuriated look. He still didn't want to do this.

The family of Rosen's had screamed the Winchesters out, saying they wouldn't fall for that again. No information, no demon in sight, and no choice. Seriously, there was no other way, except of course this one. Getting Bella bailed and asking her.

"Chill, Dean. Its because of her we're here anyway." Sam said.

The secretary returned before Dean could answer. She told them, "Just go down this aisle; she's been called into the conferencing room."

Dean and Sam headed down the hall. Yeah, Dean was feeling shitty, but not bad enough for ignoring this. He turned to Sam while walking. "That rack was nice. Think its real?"

Sam threw him a disbelieving look. "What?"

"Man, I'd tap that."

Sam continued to stare as he opened the door and went inside. Shaking his head, Sam followed. He nodded at the guard. "I think we need to talk to Miss Talbot in private, ma'am. We'd like you to leave." Sam told the female. Of course; women jail, women officers.

The guard shrugged and left, popping her gum. Bella stared at the Winchesters as Sam went to the window and thumped it shut. Dean grinned for the camera before disconnecting it.

"So I see you were stupid enough to let yourself get caught." Dean greeted her.

"Dean. Sam. Never would I have expected to see you." Bella said, her accent as crisp as ever. She was in those ugly, orange jail jumpsuit pants, but had taken the top off. It lay on the floor next to her chair. She was wearing a low cut tank-top under that. Guess the other women in the facility hadn't minded that.

"Yeah, well, we don't always do the expected." Dean replied, taking the time to notice she was still hot as before, haughty as before. Like sex in a prison outfit. Dean sat down, adjusting himself. He could not let Bella see she made him hard.

"Bella, tell us where the demon is." Sam got straight to the point. He hated to manner-talk. Just cut the crap.

"Sam, always as subtle as a bull in a china shop."

"We don't have time." Sam lied.

"And we don't like towns without bars." Dean admitted.

"Why should I tell you? I'm already in jail. Whats the worst you can do?" She asked calmly. Not teasing or mocking, but asking a question she wanted to know an answer to.

"We can increase your charges," Dean tried.

"Tough luck. I can rat you out." She retorted.

"We'll get you out of here. Go free. Get all your charges off." Sam said, again not bothering with the guessing game crap.

For just a small moment, Bella's façade slipped. She wanted her freedom so bad… "And the strings?"

"No strings attached. Give us the information, take your escape. After all, what's the worst we can do?" Sam said, gazing fiercely at her. "Help would be nice. But not mandatory."

"Hmm," She leaned back, crossing and uncrossing her legs. Dean looked away, down at the Formica table. "You know, I think I like it. Help included. Deal." She looked directly at Dean as she spoke, like she knew exactly what effect she had on him.

"Fine. Lets go free the cunt." Dean stood up quickly and paused at the door. "Sam?" He kept his back to Bella.

"Don't forget this. It's a deal." Sam warned her, leaving Dean.

"Ah- ah- Dean?" Bella's seductive purr made him stop. He didn't turn, but instead twisted his neck. "Next time you get a boner, try hiding your cock better." She turned smugly away. Dean gnashed his teeth together, and slipped out behind Sam. Shit.