We head back to Bobby's in Baby; Sam is passed out in the backseat and I'm sitting under Dean's arm that is slung across the front seat. We find him in the kitchen, working on the Colt. As we walk in Bobby picks up a magnifying glass and eyes the Colt; a diagram of parts laid out beside him.
Sam walks into the room first. "Hey Bobby."
"'Bout damn time you idjits showed up," Bobby grumbled, studying the diagram closer. "Get rid of that damned rabbit's foot?"
We all three nodded and Dean sit at the table, picking up the pieces of the Colt and examining it. "How's it going, Bobby?"
"Slow."
"Eh, I tell you, it's a little sad seeing the Colt like that," Dean says as he begins melting down metal to make bullets.
"Well, the only thing it's good for now is figuring out what makes it tick," Bobby says, frustrated.
"So what makes it tick?" Sam asks.
Bobby looks up at him, not the least bit amused. I backhand Sam across the chest and laugh as he throws his hands up in surrender, a big smile plastered on his face.
"Well, you boys have fun playing with your toys. I'm heading upstairs for a nice hot shower," I say, pulling my bag onto my shoulder and turning to leave the room. When I come back downstairs, Bobby still has the Colt in pieces and Dean has made quite a bit of progress on ammo. Sam enters the kitchen from the den at the same time I enter from the hallway.
"Hey baby," Dean says and smiles at me. I see Bobby quirk an eyebrow at the nickname. Dean looks at Sam and sees the worry in his face. "What's up?"
"Might've found some omens in Ohio. Dry lightning, barometric-pressure drop," Sam explains.
"Well, that's thrilling," Dean deadpans but I'm anxious to hear about the omens so I step closer and put my hand on Dean's shoulder.
"Plus, some guy blows his head off in a church and another goes postal in a hobby shop before the cops take him out."
"Might be demonic omens," I speculate.
"Or it could just be a suicide and a psycho scrapbooker," Dean offers nonchalantly.
"Yeah, but it's our best lead since Lincoln."
"Where in Ohio?" Dean asks and I listen intently.
"Elizabethville. It's a half-dead factory town in the rust belt."
Dean groans, "Why can't there be a demon or two in South Beach."
Sam winks at me and smirks at his brother. "Sorry, Hef. Maybe next time."
I roll my eyes at the jesting between the brothers.
Dean stands up as Sam turns to Bobby and says, "So, if we want to go check out these omens in Ohio…you think you can have that thing ready by this afternoon?"
I can't help but chuckle at Sam mocking the old hunter. Bobby just stares at the younger man incredulously.
"Well, it won't kill demons by then, (beat) but I can promise you it'll kill you," Bobby says, pointing the still dismantled gun toward Sam.
Dean smiles at me and then grabs his brother's arm. "All right, come on, we're wasting the daylight."
"See you, Bobby," I say as I follow the boys out of the room to go re-pack my bag.
"Hey! You guys run into anything, anything, you call me," Bobby says.
We nod and head out.
Since their bags were still downstairs, the boys grabbed them and walked outside while I ran upstairs to get mine. When I got to Baby, Dean still had the trunk open and took my bag, throwing it in beside his. "Thanks babe," I say and tiptoe to kiss him, keeping it purely chaste.
"Awww," Sam turns his teasing toward us.
"What's got you in such a good mood?" I ask him as I round the car to open the door and shift into the backseat.
"I dunno," Sam shrugs and slides into the passenger seat.
Dean pops in behind the wheel and turns the ignition, firing Baby's engine up. "Let's get this show on the road!"
We arrive in Elizabethville Ohio and the streets are packed with people. It reminds me of pictures I've seen of Mardi Gras. Men are wandering around with cocktails, scantily clad women are meandering between them. A lot of action for a no name town.
"I thought you said this was some boarded-up factory town," I ask Sam as we pass by a couple practically having sex right there on the street in broad daylight.
"It is," he answers and sees the same couple I do. "At least, it's supposed to be."
Dean parks the Impala in an alley off the street and grabs the door handle. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's do some research." I turn and walk alongside Dean toward the apex of the hustle and bustle of this supposed rundown town.
"You sound a little too excited to be talking about research," Sam mentions as he follows us onto the street. I can't help but nod in agreement. We pass a car with it's back door open and all I can see is long legs barely covered by a mini skirt. Dean stops in his tracks and looks in, I see the woman beckon him to join her so I step back and grab him by the hand. "Don't even think about it, mister!"
"I wasn't!" Dean proclaims and I cut my eyes toward him, not believing him for a second. "I swear, I wasn't."
I walk along the sidewalk, amazed at how blase the crowd is; it's like they don't think about nothing but themselves and what they desire in the heat of the moment. Definite sign of possession, I think to myself.
Two men begin bickering over a petite blonde as we get closer and about the time we go to step around them, the one guy punches the other, knocking him backwards and right toward me. Dean grabs me by the waist and pulls me out of the line of fire. "Thanks," I say as I keep an eye on the two fighting men. The blonde they were arguing over has already moved on to her next victim and is making out with him.
After our walk around, we get back into Baby and head to find a motel to change into our FBI duds. The Kitty Kat is the only motel in this one-horse town turned bustling hub of indecency. Dean gets us a room and we head toward it. As I open the door, the door to the room directly across from us opens and a girl, barely clothed and hardly of legal age steps into the corridor. I roll my eyes and walk into the room, surprised that both Sam and Dean follow me in. I once again have to roll my eyes when I see our room. Two decent sized beds with mirrors surrounding them, even on the ceiling. Geez, no one can want to see themselves that much! But then I glance at the mirrors on the ceiling again and get a wicked idea. Now, if I can just get Sam to leave the room for a few hours.
I hear Dean call someone's name so I turn to see a man dressed in a polyester tan and cream sweat suit and a fedora on his head. The gold chain wrapped around his neck oozes sleazeball. I shudder at the thought of how Dean knows this slimebag.
"Richie. I don't believe it," Dean exclaims, a smile on his face like he just found his long lost best friend.
"Hey, Dean... Winchester, right?" The guy, Richie, says seeming to be jumpy and fickle; like he wasn't expecting to see anyone he knew or knew him. Dean didn't seem to catch on to his eccentric behavior.
"Yeah," Dean answers smiling and the girl beside Richie whines something incomprehensible.
"This is my sister, uh, Cheryl," Richie offers and both guys nod their head. I just turn and begin going through my bag, not paying any attention to the encounter.
Richie hands his "sister" a wad of cash which she takes, slips it into her barely there halter top and sashays down the corridor. Richie watches her walk away and smiles approvingly and I notice Sam and Dean glance in the same direction. Richie breaks their concentration by explaining his lewd behavior, "Well, you know... stepsister."
"Come on in," Dean motions further into our room. "This is my brother, Sam. And my girlfriend, Nicole." Dean doesn't seem to notice the odd look Richie gives him when he introduces me as he walks over and sits his bag on the bed beside mine.
"Hey. How you doing?" Richie asks Sam as they shake hands then he turns to me. "So you got ole Dean here to settle down, huh? Must be hell of a--" His eyes wander to my crotch.
"Hey!" Dean cuts him off, knowing where Richie's mind is headed.
"How do you two know each other?" Sam aks, trying to alleviate the stress that envelops the room.
"You were in school," Dean explains to his brother, cutting his eyes at me in apology.
"It was that bitch of a succubus, in Canarsie right?" Richie pipes in.
"Yeah, yeah."
"Oh, man. You should have seen the rack on this broad. Fuckin' tragedy when I had to gank her," Richie begins his own account of the tale, disregarding the palpable tension
"Whoa, whoa. Wait. Who killed her? If I remember, your ass was toast until I showed up," Dean says.
"Oh, I forgot what a goddamn comedian this guy was," Richie laughs, clapping Dean on the shoulder.
"Richie, Richie, know what? I told you then and I'll tell you again," Dean says. "You're not cut out for this job. You're gonna get yourself fucking killed."
Richie's reply is cut off as his phone rings.
He pulls it out of a pocket and answers, "Talk to me." He pulls the mobile device away from his face and looks at Dean. "FYI, Winchester, words fucking hurt." He turns his attention back to the person on the phone, "Yeah? No, it's not a good time, babe. Later."
"So you find anything in this town, anyway?" Dean asks when Richie shut his phone and pockets it.
"Ah, no. I got shit," Richie says deflated. "Oh, wait a minute. You mean as in demons and whatnot?"
"Yeah," Dean answers curtly and I can tell he is getting fed up with the man.
"No, I got shit."
"Typical," Dean mumbles, shaking his head slightly. "What about your sister back there?"
"Oh, honestly?" Richie says, smiling lasciviously. "She definitely had the devil in her, but she wasn't no demon, you know what I'm saying?" Richie nods his head suggestively, smiling at both of the Winchesters. When neither of them respond he tries to get serious. "Right. Seriously. Church guy, hobby-shop guy? They were lunch meat by the time I got there. Hey maybe they were possessed, but I can't prove it."
"Yeah, that's where we are, too. You know, let's just say that demons are possessing people in this town. You know, raising hell--" Sam concurs with Richie's interpretation.
"Yeah, but why would a demon blow his brains out?" I ask, now that we are talking about the case and I want to get this one over and done with and out of this town of adultery and disloyalty.
"Well, for fun? You know he wrecks one body, moves to another." Richie answers. "You know, like taking a stolen car for a joyride."
"Anybody else left in the town that fits the profile? You know, nice guy turned douche, still breathing?"
"There's Trotter," RIchie says in an off hand comment.
"Who's that?" Sam asks, looking on his laptop and typing in what I can only assume is the name Richie just gave us.
"Well, he used to be head of the Rotary Club. And then people say he turned bastard all of a sudden?" Richie explains. "Brought in the gambling, the hookers. He practically owns this whole town."
"Know where we could find him?"
"Oh, he'll be at his bar in a few hours," Richie says, smiling.
'Oh great,' I think to myself. 'More people inhibited by copious amounts of liquor and a demon who possesses them to do whatever they desire.'
After Richie leaves, the boys and I decide to go to the church where the one guy shot himself and interview the witness, a Father Gil.
"There's not much left for the insurance company. It was a suicide, I saw it myself." Father Gil commented to the insurance adjusters that were there concerning the death of a man last week.
"Well,this shouldn't take long then," Dean says.
I watch from afar to see if this Father Gil was the real deal or was one of the possible demons in this so-called boarded up and forgotten industrial town.
Father Gil sighs and nods toward the balcony above. 'That's where Andy did it. It's the first time I'd seen him in weeks. He used to come every Sunday."
"When did he stop?" Sam asks, sounding highly interested and writing the information that they're given in his notepad.
"Probably about,uh two months ago?" Father Gil answers. "Right around the time everything else started to change."
"Change how?"
"Oh, let's just say this used to be a town you could be proud of. People cared about each other," Father Gil explained, nostalgic. "Andy sang in the choir. And then one day, he just... wasn't Andy anymore. It was like he was ..." Father Gil trails off.
"Possessed?" Sam asks, feigning perplexity.
"You could say that. Gambled away his money, cheated on his wife, destroyed his business. Yes, like a switch had flipped."
"Father, did you know the man who killed those folks in the hobby shop?" Dean speaks up.
"Sure, Tony Perkins."
"Tony Perkins," Sam repeats and writes he name down on his paper.
"He was a good man," Father Gil replied.
"Would you say that his personality suddenly changed one day, too?"
Father Gil leans his head to the side. "I never thought about it that way, but...yes. About the same time as Andy, about two months ago."
"Well, thank you, Father. Appreciate your time," Dean says as they both shake the man's hand and begins walking toward me.
We get into the Impala and I lean up, crossing my arms on the back of the seat. "Ya know, two months ago, we open up the devil's gate, all of a sudden this town turns into Margaritaville? It's no coincidence."
Sam and Dean both nod as Dean fires up the engine and we head back to the hotel to get dressed for a night at the bar.
The music is loud and the bar is packed when we get there. For so early in the evening, people are living it up drinking and having a good time. The crowd is shoulder to shoulder and no one seems to mind as we push our way through to the bar. The plan was for each of us to go our own separate ways and try to cozy up to one of the locals and see if we can get closer to figuring out what evil entity has taken over this small town.
Richie brushes past me and approaches Sam and Dean. I suppress a gag as his abundant overuse of cologne hits my nose. He's wearing a shiny orange short-sleeved shirt halfway unbuttoned to reveal a white t-shirt underneath; typical scumbag outfit.
"Oh, Richie. Look at you," Dean chuckles as he checks out the wild outfit.
"Hey," Richie says as they shake hands.
"Bringing satin back?" Dean asks.
"Oh, you like this?" Richie asks, running his hand down his chest. "Try Thai silk. Canal Street. You'd have to pay $300 for threads like these, easy. Cost to me, fuggedaboutit."
"How much is "forget about it"?" Sam asks, smiling at the ludicrous man.
Richie waves his hand through the air. "Ah, forget about it. That's Trotter over there. He sits there all night. Can't touch him." We each turn to see a balding man with beady eyes, scanning the main bar area constantly.
"So,what do we do now?" Sam asks.
"I don't know about you guys, but I'm gonna do a little investigating with that bartender," Dean says as he walks away. I contemplate rolling my eyes but I know he is just working the job.
Richie speaks up before Dean gets too far. "Easy. Me and her, we got a little ... somethin'-somethin' lined up for later."
"Yeah, right." Dean scoffs.
"Stings, don't it? All right. I got to hit the head, release the hostages. Be back in a few."
I look around the bar and notice two guys playing a game of pool with a small group of women watching. I saunter over and join them. I wink at the one guy as he leans down to take his turn and looks up at me. He smiles and aims, hitting the cue ball into another one, sinking it. He walks over to me and stands right in front. "Hello. Never seen you around before. You new to these parts?"
"Just traveling through," I answer him as provocative as I can muster. "Thought I'd check this place out. It seems...booming."
"Name's John," he says, leaning closer. I can smell the alcohol on his breath.
"Nicole."
"Well darling Nikki. Why don't I buy you a drink."
"Sure," I say, batting my lashes at him. "I'll take a Jack and Coke."
"Girl after my own heart you are," John says as he lays the pool stick against the wall and grabs my hand. We slide up to the bar to wait for the bartender. I can see her across from us, talking to Sam and Dean and a man who looks an awful lot like Father Gil. The man turns to smile at the bartender and I have to school my features to not show my shock. It is in fact Father Gil.
"Hey Casey," John calls out. "Can I get a Jack and Coke for my new lady friend?" I watch in pretend nonchalance as the three men glance our direction and see Dean's jaw clench. I give him a small smile, letting him know I'm okay.
The bartender, a medium build woman with long black hair and dark eyes to match, turns and fixes my drink and brings it over. I nod to her in thanks and take a sip. It doesn't taste like anything but Coke mixed with Jack Daniels so I smile and turn toward my new "friend" John.
"So, what else is there to do in this town?"
John and I make our way back over to the pool table and he gets pulled into another game. I stand and watch as he makes a big show of taking aim and hitting his mark almost every single time. He walks up to me, getting closer than I am comfortable with, but I shake it off and look at him. "Oh darlin, I think you're my good luck charm tonight." He bends toward me like he is going to kiss me when someone passing hits him in the shoulder, knocking him to the side. I look up and see a man who looks to have had a few too many drinks.
"Reg!" John scolds. "Hey man, watch where you're going."
"Hey," the man says, emotionless.
"Everything okay buddy?"
"I don't know. Just not feeling myself today," Reg says, shrugging and looking depressed.
Before I can register what is going on right in front of me, I hear John exclaim, "Reggie, what are you doing?"
The flash of the gun metal brings me to my senses and I scream as Reggie points the gun at John and pulls the trigger. John falls to the floor and I'm frozen in shock. I feel arms wrap around me and pull me away from the scene. I look over my shoulder and am relieved to see that it's Dean who has rescued me.
"Baby, you okay?" he whispers in my ear.
I nod, afraid to speak. I watch as Sam squats down to check John's pulse and calls for an ambulance. In my frozen state, I had missed Sam tackling Reggie to the ground and splashing him with holy water. When the holy water had no effect on Reggie he had pushed Sam off of him and claimed that John had slept with his wife.
Looking over toward Trotter, I notice he is alert and paying close attention to every movement in the place. We lock eyes and he turns to leave. I shudder and feel Dean's arm wrap tighter around me. "I got you baby," he whispers into my ear before kissing my temple.
Sam, Dean and I sit at the bar and watch as police cuff Reggie and lead him away. Well, they are sitting, Dean has me pulled up in between his legs, arm wrapped around my waist.
"Too many cops here. I say we roll," Sam suggest in a whisper.
"Just be cool. Poor jerk," Dean says, shaking his head slightly. "Only thing possessing him was a sixer of Pabst."
"So, what's the deal, then?" I ask, voice still trembling as I'm still shaken at what transpired not five feet in front of me. "People in this town getting possessed or not?"
"I don't know. Maybe it is just what it is, town full of scumbags," Dean says, pulling me even closer, trying to comfort and protect me.
"Yeah. Maybe," Sam says, as a uniformed officer walks up to us. I had already spoke to him and gave him my statement along with a false name, fake id to prove it.
"You ready for your mug shots?" We all must look nervous because the young officer quickly adds, "The photographer's gonna be here in a few to take your picture for the local paper."
Dean pretends to be enthused to be recognized. "Be an honor, Officer. What a thrill!" He adds in a fake laugh for the hell of it.
"Yep, time to go," Sam says, rising off his seat. I pull out of Dean's embrace and turned to wait for him.
"Wait a second. Wait a second."
"What?" Sam asks, confused.
"Where's Richie?"
"He probably hightailed it out of here as soon as the ruckus began," Sam says. Then turns and notices that the bartender, Casey is missing also. "Didn't he say that he and the bartender had plans later? Looks like later came sooner."
Dean nods his head and then throws his arm around my shoulders and we all three walk out of the bar unnoticed.
The next day we find a diner to grab a bite to eat. Dean and I sit down at a table and waitress comes to take our order. Sam joins us and I tell him I ordered him a veggie burger and water. He thanks me and the pulls out the local newspaper to scan for clues. The waitress brings our order and sits a large burger in front of Dean. He's hanging up a cell phone and looking at it speculatively as if he was just trying to reach someone. Dean seems to be in his own little world so I hit him in the shoulder with mine and cut my eyes toward his food.
"You do realize there's red meat within striking distance, right?"
"How many times I got to tell Richie, he's gonna get himself in trouble?" Dean mumbles, continuing to ignore the burger.
"Dean, you're assuming he's missing," Sam says. "I mean, maybe he just bailed."
"He's a moron. I mean, he's a sweet moron, but he's not a coward," Dean contends, nodding his head. "He wouldn't just bail. I got to go find him."
"All right," Sam says. "Meanwhile I think I'm gonna trail this Trotter guy."
"Yeah?" Dean asks, finally sinking his teeth into his burger.
"Yeah. I don't know. Something about the way he looked at me last night," Sam explains. "Maybe there is something going on here. What are you going to do Nic?"
"I'm not letting this lug out of my sight so I guess, I'll be looking for Richie."
Dean smiles at me and I chuckle. He has ketchup and mayonnaise stuck to the corners of his mouth so I grab a napkin and wipe it off. "Fanks," Dean says, his mouth still full of meat and bread.
Trotter's bar was dark inside, the lights turned off and no one anywhere around. Sam heads off to the left, down a hall that he had seen Trotter take off down last night during the scuffle. Dean and I make our way through, trying to not knock anything over and bring attention to ourselves. I hear something behind me but before I can turn, I feel something hit the back of my head and hear Dean screaming my name as my body hits the floor and everything goes black.
"Nic. Nic. Nicole!" I hear my name being chanted as if I'm underwater. I work to open my eyes and see Sam bent down beside me, his hand carding through my hair and his fingers lightly scratching my scalp.
"Sam? What happened?"
"I don't know. I got busted trying to spy on Trotter but got away. Came out and found you knocked out on the floor," Sam explains. "Where's Dean?"
"I. I don't know," I say, wincing at the pain in the back of my head as I sit up. "I was following him and someone or something hit me from behind. We have to find him Sam!"
"I know. We will," Sam says as he stands and then helps me to stand. I stumble a bit from being dizzy and light headed.
"I'm going to check behind the bar," Sam says. "See if we can catch a clue to what the hell is going on around here."
"Ok, I'll help you."
It looks like a normal bar setup behind there; bottles of different brands and colors of liquor sitting on low counters and an ice chest full of bottles of beer. I notice a drawer under the bar and I open it. What I see inside make my blood run cold and call Sam's name.
The drawer is full of papers and documents and pictures of the ones we have discovered missing; Richie, Andy, Tony, Dean. Sam picks up an older photo of a little girl standing with an older man and flips it over. The words "Casey and her Father" are written on there above an address, 1987 Piedmont. I look down and see a yellow powder substance under where the picture had lain. "Sam look," I say, reaching out and running a finger through it. I put it up to my nose and sniff. "Sulfur."
We place all the pictures back in the drawer and close it and rush outside. Sam quickly hotwires a vehicle and we head off toward Piedmont Street.
Pulling up, the first thing we notice is the Impala sitting in front of a stone wall covered with vines. Behind the wall, we can see the peaked roof of a dwelling. Sam grabs the bag we had stopped by the hotel to get and pulls out my gun and hands it to me. He pulls one out for himself along with a couple of other weapons. We exit the vehicle and walk stealthily toward the arbored gateway in the stone wall.
Sam walks in front of me to the door. He glances at me and then knocks. The door creaks open and I step in behind Sam. The inside looks like an ordinary house for this day and age, nothing out of place or looks to be from a different era. Sam steps forward and we hear a dejected pig squeal. I look down to see that Sam has stepped on a pair of pink piggie house shoes. I giggle and quickly put my hand over my mouth to stifle it. Sam looks at me and grins, "Shut up."
We check throughout the house and see no sign of Dean or anyone else. As we step back outside, Father Gil walks through the gate and looks surprised to see us. Upon closer inspection, I recognize him as the man in the picture back at the bar. 'So Father Gil is Casey's dad?' I wonder to myself.
"Uh, hey."
"Hey Father," Sam says, not connecting the dots as of yet. "We were just looking for our friend."
"Haven't seen him. But Casey does like to take her dates out back to the old treehouse," Father Gil provides.
I walk with Sam around the side of the house and realize that Father Gil is behind us. I look back but then I hear voices. I reach out and grab Sam's arm, nodding my head toward a grate in the side of the house's foundation.
"Dean?" Sam yells into the void.
"Sammy?" I am so fucking relieved to hear his voice.
"Sammy, down here! The basement caved in!"
Sam leans closer to the grate. "Dean. Hey, hold on, okay? We're coming."
"Who's we?" Dean asked, concern apparent in his tone.
"Me and Nic," Sam answers, stating the obvious.
"Nic? Nic, are you okay?" I hear Dean ask and I squat beside Sam to answer.
"Yea babe. I'm fine. We're here with Father Gil."
"Sammy." Dean pauses but I can hear the worry in his voice. "Be careful."
We both turn to see Father Gil going black-eyed. Before either of us can respond, a shot is fired just past the Father's head, destroying a small statute. Father Gil whips away from us and we see Bobby, standing there pointing the Colt at Father Gil. The padre uses his powers to fling Bobby aside. He then throws Sam into the windscreen of the Impala and me against the stone fence surrounding the house.
Sam rolls off the hood of the car and rushes to where I am lying on the ground. He helps me up and we rush to Bobby.
"Bobby, you all right?"
Bobby nods, "Yeah."
"How did you know where we..." Sam trails off as Bobby hands him the rebuilt Colt.
"GO!"
Ruby suddenly appears and enforces Bobby's demand. "You heard the man. Go."
Sam and I take off back around to the front of the house. The door is blown off its hinges and is lying in splintered pieces 20 feet inside. We step over the threshold and head toward the basement.
As we get closer we can see the stones that had fallen from the ceiling and blocked the entrance but there is a hole blasted through them. I can hear Casey the bartender telling someone to let someone go. Sam steps up to the hole in the stone blockade and points the Colt, pulling the trigger and shooting Father Gil in the back of the head. Lightning emits from and circles Father Gil, who twitches and dies. Sam then points the Colt at Casey and fires. Her body falls over that of Father GIl's, neither of them no longer possessed.
I run over to Dean and wrap my arms around him. I look up to see he has a splattering of blood on his forehead but upon further examination, no other visible wounds. I kiss his lips and he pulls me tight to himself. "You know, I wasn't going to do anything with her," he confesses in a whisper. "I was just trying to get intel."
"I know. Don't worry about it," I say smiling our eyes meeting. "I trust you."
We pack up and head back to Sioux Falls to Singer Automotive and begin to search for the next case. For the next three days, nothing. Not a single omen, sudden deaths or a case of any kind. When Sam informs Dean of the lull in hunts, it gives him an idea to show Nic how much she means to him. He keeps this information to himself because what he has planned, Sam would surely make fun of him about it.
Dean goes upstairs to find Nic laying on the bed, reading a book.
"Hey baby," Dean says, sitting on the end of the bed.
"Hey you."
"I wanna take you out tonight. Sam can't find a single hunt so we have some free time," Dean explains. "There's something I need to talk to you about."
"Okay," I say, quirking my eyebrow. What the hell could he want to talk to me about, I wonder.
"Be ready by 6 okay?"
"Yep, can do."
After contemplating all day over what Dean needs to talk to me about and quelling my fears that he is going to break up with me, or ask me to quit hunting with them, or something else equally moronic I begin to get ready.
After my shower, I dry off and apply lotion to my body mindful of all the areas I had shaved to be sure and moisturize them well. I fix my hair, pulling some of it up and into a small bun on the back of my head the rest falls in spiral curls down my back and over my shoulders. I look in my closet and pick out a black skirt that hit me right above the knees and flared out a bit. The maroon top I choose has a scalloped neckline that dips low enough to show cleavage but still be modest. The only stockings I have is a pair of black fishnets that I had bought years ago and had actually never even worn so I pull them on and finish off the look with a pair of strappy black heels.
At precisely 6pm there is a knock on my door and I open it to find Dean standing there in his white button up shirt from his fed suit, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He has paired the shirt with a nice pair of black jeans and black loafers. To say he looks handsome is a major understatement. He smiles at me and his eyes linger down my body. "You look beautiful, Nic."
"You don't look bad yourself Winchester."
He puts his arm out and I slide mine through and we walk down the stairs and out of the house. He opens the passenger door of the Impala, which is looking especially sharp. He must have washed and waxed her today. Even the leather seats are shiny and clean. I watch as Dean shuts the door behind me and walks around to get in behind the wheel.
"So, what do you need to talk to me about?" I ask, my curiosity getting away from me.
"Food first, then talking."
Dean takes me to an expensive restaurant in downtown Sioux Falls. The inside is immaculate.
Dark wood walls with coffered ceilings displaying fancy exquisite candelabras. The tables are covered with white linen cloths surrounded by leather clad seats; even the napkin are white linens. The maitre'd hands us our menus and as soon as I glance I can tell this date is going to set him back in the funds department, none of the dishes are priced. I look over my menu at Dean and he is staring at me. "What?" I say self conscious.
"Nothing," he smiles. "You're beautiful."
I can't help but blush. Here is this man; this handsome, strong man telling me he thinks I'm beautiful. I can feel my heart beat faster and the butterflies in my stomach take flight.
The maitre'd comes back and takes our order and menus and walks away.
Dean grabs my hand and laces his fingers with mine. "Nic, I know I don't show it much, but you mean the world to me. You have been through a lot and still are sitting here with me. I count my lucky stars that you haven't left yet."
"I'm not going anywhere Dean," I say low. "I'm here for the long haul."
We get our food and begin eating, joking and laughing as we let each other sample the other's cuisine. When the plates are cleared away Dean declines dessert and opts to pay the bill so we can get to the rest of the date.
Dean has been driving for a while now, leaving the city lights behind us. He pulls up a gravel road and parks beside a large oak tree, with a lake beyond. He gets out and comes around and opens my door. I step out into the night and stare at the scene before me. The stars in the sky are perfectly reflected in the calm lake water. Dean wraps his arms around my waist from behind and kiss the back of my neck.
I turn in his arms and loop mine around his neck. "This date has been perfect."
He leans down and kisses me, swiping his tongue across the crease in my lips. I open and let him in, deepening it.
When the need for air becomes apparent, Dean pulls away and settles his forehead against mine. He pulls away and sits down in the passenger seat, opening the glove box and pulling out a cassette. Before he inserts it in the player, he looks at me and smirks. "You tell anyone I have this and I'll deny it to the day I die. Even Sam."
"Okay I promise," I say, anxious to see what he has up his sleeve. The first few notes of the song starts and I recognize it immediately. Dean gets out of the car and holds his hand out. "Dance with me?"
I don't hesitate to take his hand and let him pull me close. He wraps his arms around my body and we sway back and forth to the melody and I listen to the words and wonder if he is trying to tell me something.
Watching every motion
In my foolish lover's game
On this endless ocean
Finally lovers know no shame
Turning and returning
To some secret place inside
Watching in slow motion
As you turn around and say
Take my breath away
Take my breath away
Watching I keep waiting
Still anticipating love
Never hesitating
To become the fated ones
Turning and returning
To some secret place to hide
Watching in slow motion as you turn to me and say
Take my breath away
Dean must be a mind reader because no sooner as I had the thought that he was trying to tell me something he looks down at me and says, "Nicole Barker, I love you so fucking much!"
My breath gets caught in my throat. I look in his eyes and see nothing but the love and adoration he just proclaimed. Dean Winchester just told me he loved me!
"I love you too Dean Winchester."
He leans in and captures my lips again. I feel his one hand cup the back of my neck and the other squeezing my hip. We kiss until the need for air makes us break apart. The music is still playing behind us and I look up at him and whisper, "Make love to me Dean."
He leads me to the front of Baby and lifts me up, sitting me on the hood, still warm from the engine. He presses his lips to mine again and places his hands on my knees. I can feel the heat of them through the hosiery. I begin unbuttoning my shirt and slip it off my shoulder, leaving me in a black lace bra. I quickly unclasp it and pull my arms out, dropping the garment on the ground beside the wheel. Dean's hands leave my knees and cover my breasts, slowly and methodically kneading them, rubbing his thumbs over my erect nipples.
I let my legs fall open and he steps in between them. I wrap my arms around his neck and scoot back onto the hood, bringing him with me. He growls as one of his hands travel down my stomach and under my skirt. He palms my sex and flexes his fingers, the muscles in the heel of his hand rubbing deliciously against my covered clit.
My lips travel over his jaw and to his ear where I whisper, "Rip 'em. I'm not wearing panties." as I tug on his earlobe with my teeth. Dean growls and then I feel pressure on my thighs right before I hear fabric being ripped and his fingers on my folds.
"God, Nic. You're soaking wet already!"
"Mmhmm," I murmur as he continues playing with my lips and clit. I whine and he slides a finger inside, causing my hips to involuntarily buck. Dean adds another finger and begins a slow and steady pump as I work on unbuttoning his shirt. Once the material is open, he jerks it down his arms and flings it out into the night sky somewhere.
Dean works his belt and jeans open and pulls them down just enough for his fully erect dick to pop out. He climbs on to Baby's hood and places himself between my legs. His length slides in easily and he groans as he bottoms out. He sets the same pace as before, slow and steady with a grinding motion when he is fully inside me, causing his pelvic bone to stroke my clit.
He keeps the same pace and motions the whole time until I can feel the coil in my stomach tighten and then he speeds up, bucking into me erratically. As soon as the coil snaps and my pussy flutters around him, I feel his dick swell and he shoots loads of his creamy seed deep inside.
I lay there on the hood of Baby with Dean panting on top of me. He lifts his weight and looks me in the face. "You take my breath away everyday, Nic. From being a badass hunter to a dynamic researcher to an amazingly, sexy as hell girlfriend." He kisses me quick and chastely. "I love you. I love you. I love you. I." kiss "Love." kiss "you." He kisses me one last time before rolling off of me and lying on his back beside me, both of u staring at the stars above us and trying to catch our breath.