Vivian sighed and placed the bottle of whiskey onto the nightstand. As she was shucking her shoes, Sam sat down on the opposite bed. "Why do you hate Dean so much?"

"That's none ah yer business, Sam."

"Does he remind you of a past boyfriend that you resent, or something?"

Vivian scowled at Sam. "I said it was none ah yer business, but if you must know, I hate the type of guy he is."

"And what type of guy is that?"

"The kind of guy that knows he's gorgeous an' takes advantage of it. He's not humble about it, he just uses his pretty face to get what he wants and that sickens me."

"You think he's pretty?"

"Of course that was the one thing you took away from my speech."

"Are you sure you're not just jealous of all the other girls he's with? Maybe you're just upset that you're actually attracted to him?"

"Me?! Attracted to him?! You have got to be joking! Yeah, he looks like ah modern day Adonis, but that doesn't mean I'm attracted to him." Vivian watched as Sam smirked. "Oh, will you be quiet! I'm not attracted to Dean!"

"Denial! That's the first step!" Sam jumped from the bed and raced into the tiny kitchen, Vivian brandishing a pillow behind him. "See! I knew you liked him! Ha-ha! I'll leave you alone if you say that you do!" Sam narrowly avoided being hit in the face with the pillow before sliding behind the couch.

Vivian suddenly paused. She ran a hand over her face and said, "What are we? Twelve?" She sighed. "I'm going to bed." She tossed the pillow onto the bed, grabbed her toiletries, and went into the bathroom. Sighing again, Vivian looked at her reflection in the mirror. Grabbing the bottle of vodka she'd hidden in the cabinet under the sink, she climbed into the tub and prepared herself for a long night. Sam, meanwhile, was confused and frustrated. Vivian liked Dean but she kept denying it. Dean thought she was hot, but Sam could see why Vivian would be upset by that. Dean was looking at her body, but Vivian preferred when people looked at her personality as well. Sam also liked Vivian, but it was turning out to be more of a school-boy crush rather than an actual romantic attraction. If he was being honest with himself, Sam was angry that Dean always seemed to get the bigger end of the stick when it came to girls, but he was man enough to take it with a grain of salt. After all, he was more selective about things, unlike Dean, who wanted to taste the whole damn buffet.

Smiling slightly at the thought, Sam shucked his shoes and socks. Standing up from his seat on the bed, he changed into his pajamas and placed his gun under his pillow. After checking the salt lines and other protective bits and bobs placed around the motel, Sam turned back his sheets and went to bed. A fleeting thought of Vivian passed through his mind, but he assumed that she'd go to bed when she felt like it. Sam mentally shrugged and turned over, falling asleep almost immediately.

Dean lay in the back seat of the Impala, tossing and turning with a scowl on his face, trying his hardest to get comfortable. He tried pulling the blanket tighter around him. He tried not having a blanket at all. He attempted balling up his jacket for a pillow. He even tried curling up in a ball. Nothing was working, so he finally said 'screw it' and climbed out of the car. Digging in his pocket for the key, Dean made his way into the motel room and replaced the salt lines.

Sighing, he placed his coat onto the table and stripped off his shirt, shoes and socks. He sat down on the couch and contemplated grabbing a beer, but the light under the bathroom door caught his eye. Making his way over, he listened against the wood for any noise, but there was nothing. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Sam sleeping spread eagle on the bed closest to him. Dean peered into the dark but he couldn't make out from his distance if Vivian was in the other bed or not. Shrugging, he quietly opened the bathroom door, only to find Vivian passed out in the tub, fully clothed with a half empty bottle of vodka in her lap.

"Oh, Vivian…" Dean sighed and ran a hand over his face before going over to his brother. He gently shook Sam awake.

Sam started a little, but sat up when he saw who woke him. "Dean! W-what's wrong?" Sam blinked tiredly at him.

"Sorry to wake you Sammy, but nothing's wrong, I was just wondering if you knew that Vivian fell asleep in the bathroom."

"In the bathroom?"

"Yeah, it seems she had a bit too much to drink and she passed out in the tub."

"Oh… Huh… I remember she went in there to take a shower, but I guess I fell asleep before she got out…"

"She never took that shower, she's still completely dressed… In any case, I'm going to move her to her bed."

"Need any help?"

"No, I got it, thanks. Get some sleep; I'm sorry to wake you."

"Oh, it's ok… Night."

"Night." Dean walked into the bathroom and crouched in front of the tub. Vivian was lightly snoring, her mouth hanging wide open. Her shirt had ridden up, showing a toned stomach and the edge of a tattoo. Intrigued, Dean nudged the fabric aside until the entire mark was visible. To his surprise, it was an anti-demon possession tattoo, but then he remembered that Vivian had been fighting demons almost as long as he had. He pulled her shirt back into place and put the bottle of booze onto the tile floor.

Being careful not to wake her, Dean slid his arms under her knees and her shoulders and lifted her from the tub. Vivian's head tilted into Dean's chest, her warm breath fanning over his skin. Taking a deep breath, Dean walked over to the other unoccupied bed and laid her on top of it. He carefully removed her shoes and socks, unstrapping her boot-knife as he went. Next, he slid off her jacket and tossed it to the floor. Turning to her bag for a moment, he rummaged around until he found an over-sized tee and placed it on the pillow next to her.

Mentally preparing himself, Dean sighed and unbuttoned her jeans, gently tugging on them until they slid off of her ankles and onto the floor. He was surprised to see that she wasn't wearing sexy lingerie, but light blue boy-shorts with an adorable cloud that was smiling printed on them. Chuckling to himself, he carefully removed her shirt, only to find her wearing a simple black bra. Dean shook his head and lightly pulled the over-sized tee over her head and slid her arms into the sleeves. He then tugged back the covers and tucked her in before laying down on the couch and falling asleep, one arm hanging to the floor, fingers just brushing his pistol.