Without A Trace >> Dean Winchester

27 | Remember the Titans [ Haywire ]

"Heh. I won't argue with that, but..."

Dean's head snapped to the side when he heard the swishing of water. Clarissa felt a wave of disappointment when he pulled away, walking towards the source of the sound when he looked back to see Clarissa still backed up on the wall with a visible blush on her cheeks, looking at him incredulously. With a wave of his hand, Dean gestured for her to follow him.

Stumbling in her steps, she casted her gaze on the floor, a blush creeping up her cheeks. She held her chin up in the air when she realised how stupid she must've looked.

It was hard for her to ignore the wants her body screamed. The satisfaction of having his fingers touch her skin, his lips near hers...holy damn.

Entering the library, Sam was leaning over the sink, swiftly washing a cup—gargling hastily as if he didn't want to be seen.

"What's up with you?" Dean asked.

Sam jerked up in surprise, clearly not expecting the two to enter. Shutting the faucet close, he faced the two who looked at him intensely. He brought a hand to his chin, and wiped off the dripping water. "Nothing. Why?"

Dean had a knowing look, but decided not to comment. He knew very well that the first trial was getting to him— constant nosebleeds, and sleepless nights. Setting down his coffee mug on the table, he tugged his robe closer to his body, "Heard anything from Kevin?"

"No, nothing yet."

"It's been like what— three weeks? What's taking that little brainiac long?" Dean retorted, "It's a book, read it."

Sam put both hands on his hips and said, "just a guess, but translating an ancient language with zero help might be more difficult than we think."

Sam glanced at Clarissa, who was downing a shot of whiskey. She let out a satisfied smack when the hot and bitter liquid slid down her throat. Licking her lips, she proceeded to pour herself another shot.

"Wha—Rissa! Stop!" Sam rushed over to her direction, yanking the whiskey bottle away from her grip, and she whined. "Rissa, it's noon! Why are you drinking again?"

Clarissa slumped in her seat, whining. "But Sammy~"

"Let the woman have her daily dose of whiskey, Sammy. You wouldn't wanna anger the tiger.".

She glowered at the snickering Dean, who was enjoying watching her reactions throughout the day a bit too much.

His face falling to a serious one, he clears his throat, "So, no word from Cas, Kevin's taking his sweet little time, and you're acting cagey. We need a lead before I start climbing these walls."

"In that case, I can give you zombies." Sam hands Dean a bundle of newspaper.

As if on cue, Clarissa and Dean simultaneously gave Sam a skeptical look.

"Guy gets hit by car, left for dead overnight, guts spilled out all over the road, then gets up and walks away."

"Nothing about brain-munching?" Clarissa asks.

"Remember Bobby's wife? She didn't...munch on any brains."

"Who's Bobby?" Clarissa piped up.