Chapter 12

The next morning, Stella made sure she sent the photos she took to Sam's phone and did a second description of Roast Beef Guy and his green pick-up truck. The boys were just going to have to do some straight-up observation. They were too well known in town to come up with a cover like working for the EPA or FBI. They spent the day going to some stores, browsing, doing a little shopping. On more than one occasion Dean commented on how he felt like a dork as they lingered in different stores. They strolled down Main Street after checking out a green truck which turned out to be the wrong one. Dean stopped in front of one store.

"I'm going in here." He disappeared inside.

Sam followed him in. "Dude, seriously? We don't really have time for this."

"There is always time for this, Sam. Always." Dean turned and smiled expansively at his brother. He was surrounded by racks of bras and teddies and other assorted pieces of lacy lingerie. Twenty minutes later, Dean paid for his purchase and walked out of the shop carrying a pink-and-black shopping bag. Sam kept his distance.

"What, do I have Cooties or something?"

"Seriously, Dean? Two dudes walking together down the street and one of them has a bag from the local lingerie shop? I'll pass on everyone on the street speculating about our sexual orientation."

"A guy can't buy a little gift for his woman? And I thought you were the modern man, Sammy."

"Like that gift is actually for Stella; 'fess up Dean, it is really for you."

"I'm not saying I won't get any enjoyment out of it. What's so wrong with that?" Dean tossed the bag into the Impala's back seat as he got in. He was still grinning; it was going to be a good night. A good, good night.

"Where to now?" asked Sam. "I think we're all shopped out."

"I don't know about you but I'm starving. Let's go to that burger place a couple blocks down," suggested Dean.

"Works for me." Sam was hungry, too.

The diner was one of those places that tried a little too hard to feel authentic and vintage. The images were all correct, but the feel was just a little too new, too modern. There were booths and tables, but also a long counter where patrons could sit on 1950s-style soda-counter stools to eat their meal. But a decent burger was a decent burger, and Sam and Dean were there for the meal not for the ambiance. They settled into a booth and perused the menu. The waitress brought some water and asked them what they wanted. Her tag said her name was Gail

"I'll have the white chicken chili," said Sam. "And a salad. Italian dressing."

"Gail, I'm gonna try the bacon cheeseburger," said Dean. "Medium. Fries… and I'll leave the salad to my health-conscious brother here."

"Cheddar, Swiss, or American on the burger?"

"Surprise me," said Dean with a charming smile. The waitress, who was probably in her early 60s smiled patiently at him like an aunt tolerating a prank from a youngster.

"Your lunch will be out shortly," she said. "If you need anything else, let me know."

Sam's salad came out first and while he ate, Dean flipped through the pages of a "Welcome to Steamboat" magazine that some tourist had left on the seat. Sam swirled a piece of cucumber in the dressing before he ate it, and let his eyes wander along the counter and over the backs of the people sitting there, observing without really looking. Then he stopped and his eyes went back to one particular person.

The counter waitress was looking at the man strangely, her pen poised just above her order pad. "I'm sorry," she said. "How did you say you wanted your cheeseburger cooked?"

"Extremely rare," he answered. "Extra rare. Whatever you call it. Just have the cook sear the outside and bring it to me like that."

"But sir, that would mean the burger would really be… practically raw."

"I realize that." He sounded annoyed. "And that's exactly the way I want the meat. Practically raw."

She wrote down the order. "Whatever you want, sir."

He wanted his cheeseburger practically raw? Sam used his foot to nudge Dean under the table. At first, Dean ignored him, thinking that Sam was just trying to pester him. Then Sam kicked him harder and gave Dean a look when his brother kicked him back, just as hard.

"What?"

"Dean, I'm not playing footsie with you. I think he's here. Isn't that the guy?"

"The one Stella saw? Where?" Dean sat up straighter but was careful not to start gawking all over the place.

"He's behind you. At the counter. About four seats from the door. He's got a polo shirt on. Yellow." Sam looked down at his phone, checking the photo Stella had sent both of them. "Sure looks like him, but his back is mostly to us. I can't quite tell."

Dean shifted in the booth, sliding over so his back was near the window and he put a leg up on the seat. The new angle gave him a good view of the diner and he casually looked in the direction that Sam had indicated while Sam pretended to be engrossed in a text message. The waitress came and put the nearly raw burger down in front of her customer. At practically the same time, Gail brought the chili and burger order for the Winchesters.

At the counter, Russell Roy savored the flavor of the burger juice as he bit into his almost completely raw lunch. The juice ran down his chin and wiped it with his fingers, sucking on each one so that not a drop went to waste. He'd been hungry for days and couldn't understand why his stomach always felt empty. He loved a good steak or cheeseburger but lately, that was all he thought about. It was almost an obsession and he didn't understand it. He took another bite of the cheeseburger and grunted with pleasure. The waitress, trying to not look disgusted, refilled his water.

"Order me another one of these, sweetheart," he said. She nodded and disappeared towards the kitchen.

Russell watched her go and his breath got quicker, harder. How he wanted to see that waitress with no clothes, to smell her skin, to bite in and taste the hot, salty… He shuddered, coming out of the fantasy abruptly. What the hell's wrong with me? Russell was shocked at himself. First of all, he didn't normally fantasize about random women like that, and to think about biting her? The idea repelled and fascinated him. The waitress put the new plate down in front of him and Russell tore into that cheeseburger as if he hadn't just finished one. The bun was so soaked with juice it was soggy. Dean actually felt his gorge rise slightly as he watched Russell eat it. Dean loved a good cheeseburger but that was really repulsive. He looked at the remaining few bites of his own burger and put it back on the plate. He wasn't all that hungry any more.

"Well, it sure looks like the early stages of a rugaru transformation. He's certainly got that raw meat thing going on." Dean gestured to Gail to get the check.

"If we can scope out his truck in the parking lot we can get his license and find out where he lives. I should be able to hack my way into the local RMV; they usually don't have the best security," said Sam.

"I got an easier way to do that," said Dean. "C'mon."

Out in the parking lot, Sam stared incredulously at his brother as Dean jimmied the passenger side door of Russell Roy's truck. "Dean, it's the middle of the day and you're breaking into someone's truck."

"His address will be on his registration. It's this or you can spend the next several hours on the computer looking for him. Plus no one will notice. Let me rephrase that. No one will notice unless you stop staring at me like I have three heads… Ah." The door clicked and opened. Dean leaned in and rummaged through the glove box.

"Did you get it?" Sam was looking around, trying to watch the street for passers-by, and for the police, while also keeping an eye on the diner. He didn't think Roast Beef Man would be ready to leave the diner for a while but it wasn't a guarantee.

"Yep, here we go. Russell Roy. He lives at 75 Uncochief Street in Steamboat."

"Okay, let's get out of here, Dean. I can see in the diner and it looks like he's wrapping up. C'mon, let's go."

Back at the house, Stella was staring intently at the computer. She'd been doing her own rugaru research since the boys left. Most of what she'd found confirmed what Sam and Dean had said. Rugarus were considered a variation of a werewolf, and once a transformation was complete, it would turn into a killing machine until it was stopped. And the only way to do that, it seemed, was to incinerate the creature. She also learned that rugarus possessed a higher level of strength than average humans, something Sam and Dean either didn't know or had left out. She guessed they'd left it out.

She heard the boys coming up the deck stairs and she finished up what she was doing on the computer. Stella felt a little guilty as she logged off of the computer, like she was keeping a secret from Dean. Knowing she was doing the research would just make him worry, especially since she was feeling better and had been making a lot more noise about going out on hunts again. And she wasn't going to do anything that might deliberately distract him from a hunt.

"Hey." Stella hurried down the stairs to meet them. She gave Dean a kiss. "Did you see anything?"

"We did," answered Sam. "We saw your guy at lunch. And yea, there is something freaky going on with him."

"His name is Russell Roy. He lives here in Steamboat. He hasn't changed, but we're going to need to get to him soon." Dean looked sideways at Sam. "And I won't set him on fire. Yet."

"That's all I'm asking," said Sam. "That we try."

"When are you going to go after him?" asked Stella. She glanced at Dean. He was sort of just standing in the kitchen with his hands behind his back.

"We should probably go this evening; see if we can find him at home," said Sam. "He was gorging at lunch. He'll probably keep eating for a few more hours before he'll need to go home and rest, to digest. We can talk to him then. When he's full. At least relatively speaking."

Stella nodded. Then she turned his attention towards Dean. "So, you. What are you up to? You're clearly up to something…"

"Me? Up to something?"

Sam just kind of smiled and walked into the other room. Stella turned her head, puzzled, and watched him go. When she turned back, Dean was holding out the pink bag.

"Got a little something for you," he said with a big grin.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: A little bit of a transition chapter, I guess. Not a ton of action, but I hope the observations of the proto-rugaru work. Thank you for taking the time to read Starlight. If you're so inclined, I would love to hear what you think: What is working well, and what might not be working so well. If the feedback is constructive, it is always welcome. Hopefully, I'll have another chapter up this weekend… so stay tuned for more!