A Week Later
"Rise and shine, Dean!"
"Fuhhh fff"
"I'm sorry, what was that Dean?" Sam laughed, standing on the side of Dean's bed.
Dean was currently lying face down on the pillow, his right hand under the pillow grasping his knife, and his left thrown over the edge of the bed.
"I said fuck off," Dean said rolling over and swatting Sam in the stomach. "I'll teach you to wake me up in the fucking morning," he glared.
"Yeah, you do that. But of course…you'll have to get up…" he teased.
"Leave him alone Sam," came a feminine voice behind him.
Turning around, he saw Grace in the shorts and tank top she was in yesterday, coming towards him with a small smile on his face.
"You know Deanie doesn't liked to be teased," she joked, climbing onto the bed and straddling Dean's torso, running her fingers through his spiky, brown hair.
He pouted and looked at her like a kid who had just gotten his dog run over.
"Poor baby," she cooed, running her palm down his stubbled cheek.
This motivated Dean to look at her like a kid who had just gotten his dog run over…on purpose.
"Oh stop pouting sweetie, you'll get wrinkles. And you know once you get them and start looking old, I'll dump you," she teased.
Dean quickly sat up and threw her off the bed frowning.
"Old my ASS! I'll never get old. I'll always be the sexy fella I am today," he grinned triumphantly.
"Whatever." Grace stood up from the floor, rubbing her right butt cheek where she had landed. "Owww…you broke my ass Dean. My pretty, little ass," she pouted just like Dean had a few moments ago.
"Stop pouting babe, you'll get wrinkles," Dean mocked.
Dean's grin faded once a hard block of white engulfed his vision.
"Holy…" Dean cursed. "If you ever break my nose Gracie Lee Alexander, you better watch out!" He pointed at her accusingly and waggled his index finger around.
"Okie dokie." Grace was in a happy mood and wasn't going to let one very moody and egotistical Dean get in the way of that. "Hurry and get up, Dean. Remember the last time you were sleeping?"
Dean nodded slowly, memories flooding back to him. He didn't want to have another "accident". Not today. Not ever. It would have been okay as a little kid, but a fully grown and macho Dean Winchester wetting his pants? I don't think so!
"I'm going, I'm going. Don't get your g-string in a twist," Dean said, turning his body and letting his feet hit the carpeted floor.
Sam and Grace nodded thankfully and made their way back to Sam's room, him holding the door open for her as she walked in.
"Damn morning freaks," he mumbled to himself.
Grabbing random clothes from his duffel, Dean put on a pair of blue jeans, his biker boots and a navy blue t-shirt. It was quite a hot day so he was able to be free from the usual amount of layers, he and Sam wore.
Pushing the adjoining door open, he strode into the room and sat down directly on Grace's lap.
"Oww!" she yelped, jumping up at the sudden weight, therefore making Dean crash to the ground with a loud thud.
"Grace," he bit out angrily.
"Oh god, Dean, I'm so soo sorry!" she apologised quickly. "I didn't mean to make you fall, it's just…you were heavy."
"Oh that reminds me Dean, have you started losing weight yet? I remember carrying your ass out of that cave and boy, it was heavy," Sam deadpanned looking totally serious, although on the inside he wanted to burst out laughing at Dean's pathetic he's sure got his expressions down to a fine art.
"Hell no, I do not need to lose weight. Gracie still loves me," he pouted, looking down and rubbing his stomach through the material of his shirt.
"Yeah Sammy, Dean's body is awesome," she grinned. "And it's all mine."
Dean automatically wrapped his arms around his waist and began hugging himself. "Mine."
"Mine."
"No mine."
"Dean."
"What?"
"Mine."
"Mine!"
"If your body's yours…then that means my boby's mine, right?"
"Yours…" he sighed.
"What? I'm sorry I didn't catch that."
"My body…it's yours. But that means yours is mine."
"Wait so my body is yours. So when I talk about the body on me, I say it's yours? Like…I'm touching your body, even when…I'm touching mine…"
"Okay wait. Forget it. Our bodies are ours. You can have your body," Dean ended the argument, still hugging himself.
Grace snorted. "Fine. Guess you won't be handling this fine piece of work," she said, getting up and walking over to the table where Sam was, hugging him.
Dean's eyes widened at the comment. "Hey, whoa, whoa, whoa, no way. You expect us to go out without me touching you?" he scoffed. "Unbelievable."
"Well I'll let you touch me if you agree that your body is mine," she reasoned, lying back in the seat.
Dean looked away as if to ignore her, but who was he kidding. Definitely not her, Grace thought as she smiled.
"Fine…" he sighed. "But that doesn't mean it's yours 24/7. I wouldn't like to have control over my body at least sometimes."
To this, Grace rolled her eyes. Boys.
"Hmmm?" came a quiet voice.
All three turned to look at the bed Amanda was currently occupying. Grace and Dean had been so caught up in their conversation they had totally forgotten Amanda was still in the room and sleeping.
"Oops…" Dean whispered.
"Sorry." Grace smiled sheepishly.
"It's okay," Amanda replied while sitting up.
Sam smiled at the groggy expression on her face. Tearing his eyes from her face Sam laughed at her tussled hair. It was all fluffed up and was sticking up in every direction, as was Dean's.
"What? Do I have something on my face?" Amanda asked in horror, now suddenly very aware of herself.
She touched her face and begun feeling around for anything that could be out of place. This caused all three to laugh at her.
"What?!?! I'm freaking out. Do I have a pimple or something?" All shook their heads. "Have a turned purple? Grown an extra head?"
"Nope," Sam replied.
"What then? Why are you all looking at me strange?" she asked pouting.
Sam walked up to her and sat down on the bed sighing. "Nothing's wrong with you sweetie. You just have bed hair," he smiled, tangling his hand in it.
"Oh…" She smiled and leaned her head into the palm of his hand, closing her eyes. In the week they had stayed at the motel, Amanda's finger was all healed up and god as new like Sam had said it would be. Sam brought her closer and gave her a small kiss on the crown of her head.
"Hey!" Amanda opened her eyes and looked at Grace. "Don't fall asleep!"
Amanda laughed and shook her head at her new friend. She was a little nutty but she loved it. Made usually boring drives fun.
"You wanna go for a run?" Grace asked. "Anyone?" Dean and Amanda shook their heads while Sam nodded.
They always had unhealthy take out, so every once in a while they needed to get out to exercise in the fresh air. It would hopefully compensate for the lack of variety in their diet.
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"God, it's good to get out in the morning," Grace breathed out into the chilly air.
"Yeah, Dean's lazy. He never gets out," Sam replied, panting a little.
They had been running around the block for nearly half and hour now. Grace had changed into sports shorts and kept the tank top, while Sam put on a pair of sweats along with a grey shirt.
"I'm amazed that he can keep such a great body when he hardly exercises," she laughed.
"Oh don't let Dean hear you! His esteem will get damaged."
Grace laughed loudly, throwing her head back into the air.
Smack.
"Holy crap, are you okay Grace?" a soft voice asked.
"What?" Grace opened her eyes and squinted at the bright light she was met with. She didn't know how long she had been out but she knew she was cradled in Sam's arms. "What happened, Sam?"
Seeing her blinking her eyes up at him he replied scratching the back of his neck, "Uh…you ran into a pole?"
Grace's face changed from being puzzled, to confused, then to embarrassed when the information sunk in.
"I ran into a pole?" she asked in disbelief.
Sure, she used to be a little clumsy when she was around guys in high school, but running into a pole on her morning jog? What the hell?
"Yeah," Sam replied curtly. "Don't worry it's not like you attracted attention…" Grace looked around at the people standing around them. "…much."
Getting up from her position on the floor, Grace dusted herself off and adjusted her clothes.
"Let's go. We should head back," she said, face turning a nice shade of red.
"Yeah, but we should get some breakfast first. You know how Dean is." She nodded.
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"So Amanda…how you been?" Dean asked awkwardly, trying to break the silence.
"Uhh fine," she replied, just as awkwardly, twiddling her fingers.
"Okay then…that's…good."
Silence.
"Err okay, this is very awkward." Dean stated out loud.
"Yeah totally," she replied quickly.
"Sam and Grace better be getting breakfast," he grumbled.
"In the mean time…we're watching tv. None of this awkward silence crap," she responded quickly, and he nodded.
Crawling onto one bed, Dean and Grace situated themselves on it, heads at the foot of the bed.
Grabbing the remote from under the covers after a few minutes of searching, Dean clicked on the tv.
Click.
Documentary on baboons and their-
Click.
Barrack Obama winning presidential el-
Click.
Jimmy Grayes, basketball legend, dead after committing suicide.
"Hmm. Shame…he was awesome," Dean frowned.
Click.
Oh no…a pimple! A day before the party!
Click.
Some classic cars here today. An original blue '69 Chevelle with white stripes parked at the back there. A red '71 Mustang just to the side. And right here, a beautiful black '67 Chevy Impala.
…
"What, no click?" Amanda asked grinning.
"Hell no."
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Turning the corner, onto a street full of diners and food joints, Sam and Grace made their way inside Cal's Diner and walked up to the counter, still drenched in sweat from their workout.
"Hey," Sam said out of breath.
"What can I got ya?" a middle-aged lady asked them.
Grace stared at her, not sure she wanted to get any closer. She didn't want the lady's yellow teeth and bad breathe to bacterialise her.
"Can I get four coffees? Three with two sugars and milk, one black. Umm, and four stacks of waffles. Three syrup and one strawberry. Thanks."
"Dining in or eating out?" the woman asked, noisily chewing on what seemed to be gum.
Grace once again stared at her in disgust. The woman's untamed brown hair finally getting to her. It didn't help that the woman's face was covered in a layer of oil. It made Grace wonder whether the woman had dunked her head into the fryer for a second, there was so much.
"Take out," Sam replied upon seeing Grace's stance and expression.
"Comin' right up."
"Okay," Sam replied awkwardly, walking away from the counter and waiting on the side.
"That woman was creepy," Grace whispered in Sam's ear, causing his to laugh softly.
"I know Grace, don't worry, we'll be out of here before you know it," he smiled encouragingly, which she nodded to.
"Order's here," the woman from the counter shouted.
The two walked up to the counter, Grace holding the crate of coffees, and Sam holding the bags full of waffle-filled Styrofoam containers.
"Told you we'd be out of here soon."
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"Breakfast!" came a shout from behind the door.
Amanda got up in her jeans and small black t-shirt to open it, while Dean sat, engrossed in the television program.
"Err…Dean. You sure you don't want to marry one of those cars?" Grace asked sarcastically after seeing his eyes practically glued to the screen.
"I'll go find some other guys if you're into…machinery."
"Huh?" Dean's head whipped around. "No, no, it's just that these cars…are soo sexy…and they have such great bodies…so sleek and smooth…beautiful…"
Grace rolled her eyes at Dean's dazed out state. She knew if he carried on any longer he would be drooling.
"Anyways," Sam interrupted. "We got waffles and coffee."
"Yay," Amanda squealed, clapping her hands. "I love waffles!"
Sam chuckled at her and handed Amanda a cup of coffee and a container of strawberry syrup waffles. He then handed two syrup waffles to Dean and Grace, giving Grace a normal coffee and giving Dean black, which left him with a syrup waffle and coffee.
"Yum." Grace dug into her waffles like a wild animal that had gotten their first catch in a month.
"Whoa…" Dean pulled the waffles away from her, Grace still trying to stab at them with her plastic fork. "Slow down babe. You're gonna choke."
"Yeah, says the man who's shovelling them down his throat." Dean stopped mid swallow and looked up at Grace like a kid who had gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Grace rolled her eyes and grabbed the container back, once again eating like a mad woman.
Dean glared at her for a second but quickly returned his attention back to the beautiful waffles in front of him.
"So uh," Sam started in between mouthfuls. "Have we got a case yet? I think Amanda's ready. The only thing we haven't taught her is how to use a knife but she'll be fine. It's not like we use knives that much anyway," he finished, taking another bite.
"Well I haven't heard much. Jimmy Grayes died just to let you know," Dean told him. "Man he was awesome…"
"What?" Sam asked shocked. "He died?"
Amanda leaned into him when she saw the kid-like pout planted on his face and gave him a small peck on the lips. "Better?"
Sam shook his head no and continued pouting.
"Holy crap, what's with all the pouting today, guys?" Amanda asked looking at them strangely. "You're acting like children." She shook her head.
"No we're not," Dean glared playfully, slapping her half-heartedly in the arm.
"Oww…" she pouted.
"Yeah sweetie, look who's pouting now," Sam teased ruffling her hair.
"Shuddup. Leave me alone…" she whined softly leaning away from him.
Sam ignored her cute expression and turned back to Dean. "You know what else sucks?" he paused, leaning forward. "Steven Willcock died yesterday afternoon."
"Dude, you're kidding me. How'd he die?"
"Suicide," he answered sadly.
"First Jimmy, now Steven? What the hell?!" Dean yelled in frustration, throwing his arms into the air.
"Yeah, doesn't make sense. Two sporting legends all of a sudden dying? Something's not right."
"So…you guys wanna drive all the way up to these guys' home town just because some sports guys died?" the girls asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.
"They are not just 'sports guys'," Dean defended. "They're legends." Sam nodded quickly in agreement.
"While I love sports guys…don't you think driving up to Michigan is a bit far? You know…just because they died?" Grace asked. Both boys shook their head.
Amanda sighed. "Looks like we're going to Michigan."
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"Tsk tsk tsk, don't you even try touching my tape Amanda," Dean warned, slapping her hand away from the radio.
Amanda slunk back in her seat and frowned, crossing her arms.
"Aww…Dean. Turn off your damn mullet rock for a minute won't you?" Sam asked, laying his head on Amanda's jean clad lap facing forward.
Dean shook his head stubbornly. "No way. What else would you possibly want to listen to?"
"Something that can carry a tune…" Sam mumbled quietly so only Amanda, who stifled a laugh, could hear.
"Come on Dean. Turn it off. I'll make it up to you later, I promise," Grace reasoned.
Dean looked on forward for a few seconds before turning to look her in the eye. "Fine." He leant to the right and switched to another station that was playing country music.
The whole drive to Michigan, Dean sat pouting and looked at the radio while Grace kept having to lean over the seat to reassure him.
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"Ohhhhhhhh…" Dean moaned loudly. "Back to classic rock. Back to classic rock."
Sam and Amanda rolled their eyes and made their way inside the bar.
"Better now babe?" Grace asked as she stroked his hair.
"Mhm…" he nodded adorably, which Grace couldn't help but smile to.
"Let's go inside."
Locking the doors to the impala, Dean ran to catch up with Amanda who was already at the door.
He pulled the metal handles and let the black wooden doors open before letting Grace step inside, himself following closely.
"There they are," he pointed towards the direction of which Sam and Amanda were occupying a table.
"Four beers," Sam shouted across the room towards a dark-haired bartender who nodded and put down her rag. Dean watched as she filled up four mugs and walked over, placing them on their desk.
"A little early to be drinking isn't it?" she smiled.
"Nope." Dean held out his hand to pay her and she walked away as she took it.
"Dean," Grace shouted slapping him on the arm. He turned to look at her, confused as to why she hit him. "Stop undressing her with your mind."
"I'm not!" he defended.
"Yeah right Dean," Sam laughed.
"Oh shut up."
"Anyways…you guys," Amanda started, leaning forward onto her elbows. "What exactly are we planning on doing here? Try and gate crash their funerals?"
"Ha ha. No Amanda…" Sam said in a sing-song voice. "We're here because something strange is going on. Both sports legends were rich as. They had everything they wanted. They wouldn't have committed suicide. No way."
Amanda nodded. "So what do you suggest, geek boy?"
Sam glared at his nickname and turned to look at Grace. "We're going to go interview some of their close relatives. See if anything weird's been happening."
"Sounds good to me."
All four raised their beers and clinked them together before drinking.
A Few Hours Later
"Alright, I gotta take a leak. You guys go wait in the car," Dean said as he got up from his chair and stalked over to the men's bathroom.
"You heard him, let's go." The three walked outside while Dean did his business.
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Tut tut tut.
Dean clicked his tongue on the top of his palette as he got rid of everything he drank.
A man came up to the urinal beside him and started doing his business while Dean looked away at a far wall. Awkward. Of course, Dean wasn't embarrassed but he certainly didn't want to see another guy with his fly undone.
Hearing a zipper, Dean turned back to facing the wall in front of him while the other guy left.
Creak.
Dean turned around hearing a soft noise and was only met with a cubicle door swinging open.
It's just the wind Dean. Or maybe someone's using it.
He looked around the bathroom to see there were no windows at all. Or anyone else in the bathroom for that matter.
Hmm…
Dean ignored it, shaking his head, and went back to facing the wall.
Creak.
"Argh what the hell," he groaned, pissed off.
Zipping up his pants, he turned around and walked up to the cubicle which had been swinging open.
He held onto the door and pulled it closed then open to make sure nothing was behind it.
"Pshh…this is stupid." Shaking his head once more, he turned around and walked towards the door.
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"Man, how long does it take for Dean to empty himself?" Sam whined.
Grace coughed and smiled. "Eh…quite a while."
"Oh stop it you two, he's coming." Sam and Grace turned to look out the window in the direction Amanda was looking. True enough, Dean had just walked out of the bar, letting the door slam closed.
"Hey Dean," Grace smiled cheekily, sticking her head out of the window.
Dean laughed at her cuteness and gave her a soft and playful nudge on the back of her head, making her stick her head back inside.
Getting in the driver's seat, Dean turned to face the others.
"Alright so I'm thinking…Sam goes to interview Jimmy. Grace and Amanda interview Steven while I research on the laptop for anything that might help," Dean suggested.
All three nodded so he threw Sam the keys while he popped the trunk for Sam's laptop.
"Look after my baby!!!" Dean yelled while Sam drove away with the girls.
"Don't flirt with the bartender!" Grace yelled back playfully.
Dean smiled as he made his way back inside with the laptop.
Setting it down on the same table they were at before, he flipped the lip on and started the computer, waiting for it to load.
Opening the Google search engine, Dean typed in 'Jimmy Grayes death' and came up with hundreds of hits. Clicking on the first website, Dean began reading about what exactly happened.
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Sam drove himself to Jimmy's dad's house, and grabbed a fake ID from the glove box. Stepping outside and giving Amanda a quick hug and the car keys, Sam got into police mode before knocking on the door.
"Alright, let's go Amanda. Off to Steven's relatives.
Driving themselves away, they parked on the curb at the end of Mr. and Mrs. Willcock's street.
Each grabbing an ID for themselves, they made their way up to the front door of a big two-storey.
"These IDs are awesome," Amanda grinned happily.
"Sure are."
During the week Amanda was injured, Dean had made a couple of fake IDs for Amanda for when she would need them in the future.
"Just let me do the talking alright," Grace said. Amanda nodded.
They had taught Amanda the basics of lying about who she was but she still wasn't ready just yet.
Ringing the doorbell, the pair waited patiently for someone to answer the door.
"Hello may I help you?" The door swung open to reveal a man who appeared to be Mr. Willcock.
"Uh hi," Grace stepped forward. "We are federal agents and we just wanted to ask you a few questions about your son." She and Amanda held up their badges for him to see before the stepped aside and ushered them in.
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"Huh. Steven Willcock. Same thing. Absolutely nothing on these guys. Zip. Zilch. Nada." Dean picked up his beer and took another long sip.
Looking up from his beer, he was surprised to see the bartender from earlier come up to him.
"May I help you?" he asked, trying to divert his attention. Don't flirt with the bartender!
"Oh, I was just wondering why a handsome young man like you is sitting here all by himself drinking beer," she flirted.
"My friends are out busy, they'll be back soon," he answered.
The bartender leaned forward flirtatiously and Dean has to sit back to avoid getting her breasts in his face.
"My shift's over right now. Mind if I sit?"
Dean bit his lip. I do have nothing to do… "No, not at all, please."
She pulled out the chair across from him and sat down, once again leaning forward.
The attractive woman licked her lips and crossed one leg over the other, looking straight at Dean.
He knew what she was trying to do but he couldn't help but keep looking at her. At her soft, full lips.
The next thing he knew, she was sitting on the chair beside him, leaning closer.
"I, uh, think you should…" he started before she put a finger on his lips, shushing him, and he nodded.
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"Well that was a bust," Grace said, starting up the engine.
Amanda looked at her friend from the passenger seat and answered, "Let's hope Sammy's got something."
Grace nodded and peeled off onto the road, driving to where they had dropped off Sam.
Arriving at the Grayes' street, they spotted Sam sitting on a bench in the park across the road.
"Hey Grace?" Amanda asked.
"Yeah Amanda?" she answered looking at her.
"Could you just drop me off here? I feel like hanging out with Sam for a bit. Pick me up later on?"
Grace nodded in understanding and waited for Amanda's door to shut before driving back to the bar.
Killing the ignition, Grace stepped out and went inside the bar. What she saw shocked her.
Inside, at the table she was sitting at earlier, she saw Dean and the bartender. She saw her sitting on his lap. She saw him stroking his hand up and down her arm. She saw her face incredibly close to his, and both smiling. He saw her nibbling on the corner of Dean's mouth to which he did not oblige to. She saw red.
Anger and hurt welling up inside her, Grace stormed to the desk and threw the bartender to the floor after grabbing her collar.
"What the hell are you doing Dean?!" she shouted swiping the beers off the table and smashing them.
"What? Nothing. Just having a friendly conversation with uh, Emily here," he smirked.
"Oh you were, now were you?" she asked, rage boiling. "From where I was, she was all over you. And you did absolutely nothing to stop her. Do you remember what I said to you a week ago? Or hell, an hour ago?!?!"
"What? I didn't hear anything." Grace was furious as she kicked over his table and slapped him hard in the face, jerking it sidewards.
Readjusting the position of it, Dean looked at her dead-on.
"You said you wanted to give this…relationship a go," she yelled having trouble finding her words. "Just moments earlier I said, DON'T FLIRT WITH THE BARTENDER."
"Must've thought you had some competition if you thought you had to warn your boy," the bartender smirked, standing up from where she was on the ground.
Grace put her back down by kicking her in the face, subsequently knocking her out.
"What did you do that for Grace?!" Dean yelled.
"What?" she shrugged. "That girl was a bitch."
"What do you say we finish this in the motel room, huh? Where people won't hear us."
Grace looked around to see everyone in the bar staring at them. They had obviously attracted a crowd.
Walking off with Dean to the impala, they left the bar where overlooking drinkers were helping the slutty bartender off the floor.
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Grace slammed the motel room loudly.
"So Dean, tell me, what exactly do you think you were doing with her?" she asked as soon as she got through the door.
"I told you. We were just talking."
"And I don't suppose you call her kissing you talking, now do you?!" she screamed, throwing pillows at him of which he dodged.
"Why would I stop? She's beautiful. I mean did you see that rack?" he breathed out.
Grace stared on, shocked at Dean's behaviour.
"Well does that mean if I see a hot guy walking down the street, I'm allowed to kiss him?!"
Dean shrugged and lifted his eyebrows. Yes.
"Dean. You're an asshole you know that. A conniving, heartless and cruel assho-"
Grace was suddenly met with a stinging sensation and landed on the floor with a thud.
She looked up to see Dean standing before her, hand raised.
Dean had hit her. Her Dean had hit her.
Still sitting on the floor where Dean had left her, he walked over to the light switched and flipped it on.
For a second, Grace saw a flicker in his eyes when he turned to look at her sadistically.
"Shapeshifter…" she whispered ever so softly.
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