He parked the rental car along side the single storey motel, by the beach. It should have been cooler, but the air shimmered above the ground and the air was wet and dry at the same time.

Outside the row of rooms, in the shade of a porch roof, were posted five women, each wearing less clothing, the further along the row he looked. He was greeted by a wink, a look and a call of "Want a good time sugar?" he smiled and waved them off.

She took a step forward and swung herself leisurely round a pole, which held the roof above the walkway. She closed her eyes for a moment and smiled at him.

She took a long look, foot to eyes and then down again to his crotch.

"Come in to my lair.." she crooked her finger, gesturing to follow.

"Said the spider to the fly?"

The sun beat down on the room, a lazy fan moved the heat inside. He took his leather jacket off, throwing it to a chair, pushed closed the door behind him with his foot.

She turned on her heels and punched him. Flooring him. When his hands went to his throbbing jaw, she kicked him in the ribs.

"Ow. " he held his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Foxy Debs. Loving the hooker suit"

She kicked him again, lower in the belly. Went over to the bed stand and pulled out her police issue radio. Gave the code word for a non-john. "Take a break Paul, be back on in 15"

"Give me some staying power, you are killing my rep." Dean picked himself up off the floor.

"I'm back on in ten, Paul. Going to come out hot and mad"

"Ten. Roger. Hot. Out."

"He sounds like a barrel of fun."

"No body likes to work in this heat."

"Let me guess, cooped up in a black beat up van? Did they give it a name? "

Deb nodded. "Lucy"

She sat on the bed. Dean took the chair.

"Why are you here?"

"Why did you hit me?"

"Seriously?"

He thought for a minute. "Ok. Fair play" he rubbed his jaw again."Got a gig in this part of town. Thought I should look you up."

"Quit the bullshit Dean. What do you want?"

"You to bounce up and down on the bed. And make it good. I'll tell you a story" he crossed his legs at the ankles.

"I'm getting sleepy already"

"Dexter!"

"Hey... you. Good to see you after so long. When was the last time?"

Sam Winchester. This was going to be a interesting day. Can't go blowing his cover now. The answer was small talk.

I don't usually understand the ordinary person's vailed colourful turn of phrase. Some times "Uncle Frank is still a lush", meant just that. Some times it meant his wife was trying to get him to drink drive and crash the station wagon, for the life insurance.

"The Milwaukee conference?"

Ghost then? Salt and burn.

"Wasn't Vermont after that?"

This was me asking if he was sure. There had been rumours on the hunting scene about a god going old school in the Everglades. Maybe even Maneto.

"Hey Dex. Who is your giant friend?"

You could rely on Vince to interrupt the important conversations.

"Masuka, this is..."

"Special Agent Richard Starkey." Sam offered his hand to shake

"What's the weather like up there?" Vince laughed.

Stormy. By the look on the giant's face.

"Very pleased to meet you. But I need to steal Dex here for a consult"

"Nice Fed suit."

"Thanks"

"You need to update the tie."

Sam touched and flattened his tie. Looked at Dexter "Oh?"

"Latest dress code was out two months ago. Fashion is thinner and tie bar is recommended. Matt. Not a sparkly target."

"Alway learning from you Dex."

"Richard Starkey? You haven't learned to stop letting Dean pick the names."

"I know. I know."

"So" Dexter looked, expectantly. "What do you want?"