With a soft moan, Dean wakes up. He doesn't open his eyes yet, but enjoys the peace and quiet for a moment. Although, quiet if a bit far fetched, considering Def Leppard'sLove And Affection echoesthrough the huge room. He sighs and smiles. He's relaxed, well rested and pain free; thank God for vicodin. Strange though, he didn't remember the radio playing when he fell asleep. Then he notices the sound of the shower running. It's only until now that Dean opens his eyes and sits up. He glares at the purple clock on the wall; it's almost 7 PM.
"Aren't you a bit late for you're playdate?", he says, loud enough for Sam to hear him, as he gets of the bed.
Still a bit sleepy he walks up to the bathroom entrance, the shower stopped running. He glances at the table, where he remembers Sam dumped most of his stuff. His laptop is set up on the table, buzzing like it's sawing down an entire forest. Next to the table he sees an half empty duffel bag. When he looks up at the hallstand, he detects that Sam's coat is missing. His alarm is going off by this time and when he quickly turns around to see that his car keys aren't on the little cabinet next to the bed where he left them, his presumption is confirmed; Sam's not here. But if he isn't, who is? He walks back to the bed and grabs the gun from under his pillow, then he sneaks up to the bathroom again. Although he was fast a sleep about a moment ago, he's wide awake now. Adrenaline rushes through his body, then he enters the bathroom with a cocked pistol. In stead of some supernatural creature which he was prepared for, he stumbles on Zoë, wearing nothing but a bathrobe.
"No, I'm right on time", she answers grinning.
"Zoë? You scared the crap out of me!", Dean lowers his gun and breaths out. "What are you doing here?"
She turns to him and crosses her arms in front of her chest with the usual attitude.
"Lets start over: "Hi Zo, nice to see you!"", she says, suggesting what he could also say.
"No, if I said that, I would actually be lying", Dean responds not amused and turns around.
"Oh, come on. You're not still mad, are ya? I'm not", she grins, drying her face.
He walks out with his hand in his side. It's just now that he notices the music is coming from Zoë's Macbook, which she has installed near the window.

"I am still mad, as a matter of fact. Second time; what are you doing here?", he asks again, irritated.
"There was a fuss at the motel, I got into a fight with the shapeshifter", she explains.
"The shapeshifter?", now she catches Dean's attention.
"Yeah, he followed me from the bar to the motel. Don't ask, long story", she says, apparently not finding it interesting enough to talk about.
"Wow, wait. He was at Beetles?", Dean follows her with his eyes.
"Yep, as Terry Cliffer, he almost got me fooled", she admits with a laugh.
"But you got him, right?", Dean hopes to get a confirm on his question.
She looks up and gives him an insulted look.
"Who do you think I am?", she huffs.
Dean takes a look at her. He might still be cross with her, he can't admit that she looks mighty awesome. Even wearing a peach-colored bathrobe she looks hot. Her hair is darkened by the water, which drips on her shoulders. Although she washed her make-up off her face, she still has these piercing warm eyes, smooth skin and a natural blush on her cheeks. Zoë is one of those girls who doesn't need anything to make her look more beautiful, her appearance just is.
"Do you really want me to answer that?", Dean smirks.
"Oh never mind", she shakes her head and turns to the window, which she stares through into the night. "I got him, but no thanks to your brother".
Dean looks up. Oops, now Zo might have a reason to be cross with them for a change.

"He messed up?", he asks careful.
"Just a little", she chuckles. "He chased the shapeshifter and apparently had an encounter with him in his hide out, that didn't go so well for Sam and he locked him up with the others. By the time I got there, the damn chameleon had shed already, guess who I was facing", she leaves it open for Dean.
Dean raises his eyebrows, Sam off course.
"When did you find out?", he grins.
"When he attacked me from behind", she admits, as she closes the purple curtains. "But hey, story short; the bastard is gone".
"What, the shapeshifter or Sam?", Dean questions smartly.
"Sam's fine, everyone's safe", she laughs about his remark.
"Where is he by the way?", Dean wonders.
"He volunteered to cover tracks, strangely enough. He mentioned something about you having a girl over for the night", she recalls.
Crap, Stacy! He almost forgot about her. She'll probably show up in two and a half hours or so, that gives him a lot of time. It would be the night of the century, two dates in one evening in a bridal suite. He pulls off an innocent face and looks her in the eye.
"Looks like he's right", a smile appears on his face.
She grins and looks down, then she walks towards him.
"You would love to see that happen, won't you?", she flirts.
Suddenly he sees a side of Zoë he hasn't quite seen before, right as the song in the background fades to Skin On Skin by Queens of the Stone Age. He can read the lust in her eyes as she comes closer and takes each side of the collar of his shirt in one hand and gently pulls him towards her. When she moves her lips towards his, he keeps a distance. He expected a lot from Zoë, but at this point, she completely overwhelms him. Even a womanizer as himself can't help to wonder where this is coming from.

"Oh, don't get all awkward with me, it's not like we made out or anything… yet", she pouts, referring to the talk they had when she patched him up last night.
"I normally don't do this until the second date", he allows her a bit closer.
"The second date? I think you never knew a girl this long before you headed for your homerun", she chuckles.
"You've got a point", he admits with a grin.
She folds her arms around his neck and looks deep into his eyes, challenging him.
"But then again, I bet you tell that to all the girls", she responds.
He glares back and can't help it to smile.
"What makes you think that?", he asks softly.
"You like to have fun", she answers obviously, moving her body closer. "And you know what, Dean?"
Her brown eyes sparkle. He has the feeling as if he is looking in those of Medusa, unable to move, he can barely answer. Their noses touch, he can feel her warm breath.
"What?", he asks with soft voice.
"I am fun", she whispers sensual.
Okay, that's it. There's no possible way that any straight guy in the universe could resist Zoë Sullivan at this moment, not even if you're Sam Winchester, definitely not if you're Dean Winchester. He gives in and kisses her. Without any hesitation she answers him in an unbelievably intense way Dean hasn't experienced much yet. The tension builds as he pressures her body against his. Her fingers fork his hair and he lets his hands move down her slender waistline. She shivers as he touches her, not because she's cold or nervous, but out of excitement. Then on her turn, she moves her hands down his perfect muscled body and lets go of him. He opens his eyes and looks up from her lips into her hypnotizing eyes. Without breaking eye contact, she lets the bathrobe slide off her shoulders. His jaw almost drops.

Before her stands a woman who could be on the cover of even the most exclusive skinmag. Her well curved hips, beautiful waist, everything. Slender yet muscled, she's the American Dream. Zoë walks back up to him and kisses him passionately. They fire it up while their respiration fastens. Not having much clothing to pull off her body, he helps her unbutton his shirt, still kissing. As she rips of his shirt, he can hear the stitching crack, but he doesn't give a damn. Again she folds her arms around his neck and he lifts her up. Here beautiful long legs clamp around his waist as he walks over to the waterbed to drop her on a moment later. He crawls on top of her and kisses her neck as she moans softly and tilts her head for him. They seem to collide, their bodies tanned and wet and their minds lascivious, as the heat turns up. She unbuckles his belt, but he stops her.
"Wait…"
"Don't pull back now", she begs.
"I'm not, I have a little something", he kisses her and gets off the bed.
He walks to the table, where he unravels the gift basket he received downstairs and takes out the handcuffs. Smirking he turns around and shows them to her, twirling them around his finger.
"You have a dirty mind, boy", she grins.
He jumps back on the bed which waves as a slight swell at sea and while he crawls back on top of her, he gently grabs her wrists and cuffs them behind the steel bars of the bed. Then he sits up and looks at her, as the expression on his face changes.
"No, I just have a very bright mind", he corrects.
"Whatever you want, what are you waiting for?", she whispers exited as she spreads her legs.
"Good question".
He takes out the gun from behind his waistband, which he had carried on him the whole time. Startled Zoë tries to sit up, unpleasantly surprised by the sudden change of character.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?", she asks concerned.
He gets of the bed and walks up to the duffel bag, where he pulls out a gun silencer. Then he slowly strolls back towards the bed.
"I'm hunting", he answers.
"What on earth are you talking about, it's me, God damn it!", she tries to convince desperately and irritated.
"Yeah, Zoë right? I have to say, good impression", he walks around the bed as he attaches the silencer to his gun. "But you missed a tiny little detail".
They stare each other in the eye, he self-confident, she desperate, waiting for the other to say something. When the silence remains, Dean takes the lead.
"You shot her", he informs.
It's just now that the woman in bed realizes what is going on, stammered she looks at Dean. There's not a scar on her body.
"Ah, you forgot about that, didn't ya? Right next to her bellybutton, you shot her", he feels the anger building.
"No. Wait, Dean. I can explain…", she begs, but he interrupts her by aiming the gun.
"I bet you can, bitch".
A dim shot followed by complete silence. He breaths out and stares at the bullet wound in its chest, right on the heart. Wow, that was intense. He puts his gun behind his belt and quickly puts on his shirt after which he checks his phone. The list of calls shows none unanswered; Sam didn't call. He has to get out fast, and even more important, he has to find Sam and Zoë. For all he knows they could be dead. Crap! Why did this go all wrong? He rubs his face as he worries sick about his brother. Now is the time to stay calm, think! Then his gaze stops at Sam's computer. Dean walks up to it and stares at the screen. Completed, it says.
"Completed what?", Dean asks out loud.

Damn it! Why did he get caught up in his anger. He should have tried to get the son of a butch to talk about it's hide out, now he has nothing. He looks back at the screen, the laptop asks him if he wants to open the downloaded file. He double clicks 'Yes'. A pdf-file opens and some kind of blue print of the entire area fills the screen. He reads the title and the marginal note and presumes it a map of the city's sewer system. Sam apparently was trying to find out from which house the shapeshifter was working. He remembers his brother saying his hide out must be some where on 110th Ave NW, but that's a damn long street. He sighs, how the hell is he gonna find them? Then he spots something unusual. There's a red sewer line drawn on the sheet, running from the main sewer all the way up to a house, far from the main road. When he reads the marginal note again, he learns that the particular sewer line was put in the ground this year. Suspicious? Could be, most houses so far off the main roads have their own tanks. And wait a minute, isn't this the same place they checked out last night? He was quite sure it was clear, apparently they missed 's not much, but it is the only lead he has right now. He closes the laptop, grabs his coat and walks to the cabinet to grab his keys.
"Crap!"
How could he forget. Sam has his keys, Sam has the car! He runs his fingers through his hair and curses. How the hell is he gonna get there? Then his eye capture the shifter in the form of Zoë, lying dead o the bed. Lets rephrase that question, how did that filthy bastard get here in the first place? Dean hastens to the window and shoves the curtains aside. Relieved he smiles, he wouldn't have thought this last night, but he's so glad to see that shiny black Harley Davidson waiting for him underneath the window. He opens it and climbs out. Off course it's easier to take the stairs, but he doesn't wanna be seen by the staff. In a blink of an eye he lands with both feet on the ground and walks up to the Harley. He has to admit, he has never been on a real motorcycle like this before. When he was sixteen he spend some time on a dirtbike, but that's nothing compared to this monster. He starts the engine and the headlight spreads a bright light. It almost feels like he got on the back of a horse for the first time, as if it might actually go in a different direction then he steers it towards. One thing is certain, he realizes as he gasses up and leaves the parking lot. He better not mess up this bike, because Zoë will kill him or haunt him, depending if she's still alive or not…