I leaned against the hood of the car when I saw Dean and Sam walking out. “Finally,” I declared.
“So what’d we miss?” Breanna asked curiously as Sam jumped in the car, stealing a pop from the back seat. Breanna squealed in protest, she was going to drink that.
I know what I missed, Dean in his suit. I grinned and took his tie, pulling him closer to me, giving him a light kiss on lips. I went to pull away, but he grabbed me and pulled me in closer.
“Eww…” Breanna cried, “I’d rather see the dead guy in the morgue than you two.”
Sam busted out laughing, “You know it’s not that bad.”
I laughed and half-heartedly pushed Dean away, “Okay, so where to next?”
“The brewery, and I need you to wear something nice this time too,” Dean said playfully.
***
We dressed up, or rather down depending on how you looked at it. I was forced to wear a skirt and a blouse, and most horrifically high heels. Breanna and I had to match, though honestly I think us matching just filled in some of Dean’s fantasies rather than having anything to do with the case.
He claimed we needed to look professional. I felt like I was in a costume though.
Breanna and I were supposed to be guidance counselors in case any of the workers needed it. “Agents” Sam, Dean , and Garth recommended us for the job.
We met Garth outside of the Brewery, and he looked at us in surprise. I did the same thing for him. He was this scrawny guy that resembled a bean stalk more than a man. I thought he’d be more…hunter-esk? You know, broad shouldered, handsome…I felt my eyes wander to Dean.
Dean caught me staring at him and grinned. I blushed, feeling like an idiot. I always thought blushing was a weakness, and was always annoyed when I found myself doing it.
“Hello ladies, I am Garth. You’re man on a white horse if you will.” He said and took Breanna’s hand. She began to giggle, suppressing a full blown laugh attack. I was not impressed.
“That’s okay,” I replied, “We really don’t need to be saved, we are perfectly capable of tending to ourselves.”
He clicked and wagged his finger at me. “Never say never.”
Dean glared, “She said never, besides…she’s taken.” He said and I grinned smugly, we heard footsteps coming to the door so we all quickly shut up. It was the manager of Thighslapper Ale, Marie.
The father—Mr. McAnn—and Randy Baxter owned the place, since their third partnership, Dale died. Dale committed suicide, unfortunately. The other owner Baxter seemed like a real peachy guy, we got to watch him snap at one of his workers for coming in late, though I guess the guy did come in late a lot.
We had begun to talk to Mr. McAnn when he had a mental breakdown. You couldn’t blame the guy, he did have two sons die.
Breanna and I were forced to go talk to him, but he didn’t want to be talked to, so we wandered back into the room with Sam. Dean was off gathering intel from Marie about the place. I stopped short of the doorway and Breanna walked through. “Going to see Dean?” She asked quietly so the man wouldn’t hear.
I grinned, “Not necessarily, divide and conquer you know.” I turned on my heel and left.
I walked down the aisle way filled with aluminum containers of liquor. The smell was overpowering to my daemon senses, and she drew back, not liking the place we were in. I tried focusing on the sounds, but all I could hear was the sound of a running fridge and indistinct voices. I recognized the one as Deans and followed.
*******
Dean’s Perspective
***
“I’m just worried about him, he blamed himself when Dale died, and now this.”
“Why did he blame himself?”
“Well, Dale was sensitive—but what do you do watch them 24-7?” It was more of a statement than question. “You can’t blame Dale’s friends,”
“But your dad still feels bad.”
“And it doesn’t help Dale’s wife is suing us.”
“Really, why?”
“She’s angry and grieving and this is America?”
*********
Sam’s Perspective
*********
Mr. Baxter leaned against the desk, “I knew Ray and Trevor. Hell, I’m godfather to all four of Jim’s kids.”
“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Breanna said meaningfully, “It must be just as hard for you as Mr. McAnn.”
He cleared his throat, “Yeah well, Ray and Trevor loved their fun, but they’d never do anything crazy.” He rambled.
Garth was sitting down, “No rugrats of you own?” he asked curiously.
“Just Jim’s,” He replied. “They’d borrow my car, raid my fridge.”
Sam felt bad, so he wanted to get this interview over. “Now you originally started this company with a 3 person partnership?”
“Yeah, Dale. He passed away a few months ago.”
Garth got to it, “Passed away in the woods or….”
“He took his own life,” He stated.
“Oh, sorry.” Garth replied.
“Yeah well, he’s had problems for a long time. Look this is just a nightmare. First Dale now this…”
Sam looked at him sympathetically, “This was going to be our year, we’re selling Thighslapper to one of the largest distributors in the U.S. its been in the works for months. News is gonna hit the public real soon.”
“Well, that’s good,” Breanna replied, “I bet you guys would have had to sell anyways with everything that’s happened, at least now you’re still making profit.”
“If we hadn’t been given these circumstances right now we’d be celebrating.” Mr. Baxter admitted.
Sam and Breanna exchanged glances and the interrogation continued.
***
Hope’s P.O.V.
***
Dean met up with me. I grinned when I saw him eyeing me from head to toe. “See something you like?”
He chuckled, “Yea, she’s wearing clothes though.”
I laughed, “Yeah well…so are you.” I stuck my tongue out. “So ha!”
“Ha to you...” He chuckled, “Why don’t you dress like this more often?”
“I feel like I’m wearing a costume!” I whined. “Unlike Garth, I’m not allergic to a suit.” He had told me about the incident at the morgue.
He laughed. “No, you’re just allergic to a dress.”
"And high heels," I grinned grabbing his hand and leading him to where Sam, Garth and Breanna were. “See, I knew you’d understand.”
***
I was glad to be back in a t-shirt and jeans. We went shopping and our outfits were a little too professional for my liking so I switched clothes. I hefted up the bag of groceries, we had rented a cabin for the night, split five ways that was only 15 bucks for each of us. So Breanna and me had a plan, to cook. Breanna was rather good at it, and so we were going to make up quesadillas and potato wedges. Both were rather simple meals, and I listened into Dean, Sam’s and Garths conversations, only piping in occasionally.
Garth was still going on an invisible werewolf theory, which was kind of ironic with me in the room. Granted I was not a werewolf, but my Interloper characteristics were so unique they took on a shape of their own.
I began sliding the knife down a package of “impossible to open silverware” as I heard Dean say, “There’s a million things with claws that go bump in the night.”
I chimed in…. “Yeah, no kidding. At least we know how to kill those things…oh shit,” I dropped the knife in
defeat as the corner of my finger began hissing in rebellion of the silver, blood seeping onto the floor.
I gripped it tightly, and I heard the click of a gun. I looked up to meet my eyes with Garth. He might be the weirdest Hunter I’ve ever met, but he was still a Hunter. My eyes narrowed as I grasped my hand tightly, blood falling onto the wooden floor.
If I had to kill him, I would.
“So you’re a werewolf then, that explains everything.” He said, thinking I was responsible for the deaths of Ray and Trevor McAnn.
“I was with Dean and Sam before these attacks started idiot,” I growled lowly at him, “plus I’m not a werewolf.” I spat. Dean got between me and Garth.
“Hey everyone calm down!” he ordered.
It was silent for a moment. I wrapped the edge of my black t-shirt around my finger, in attempts to stop the bleeding.
“no Dean,” Garth replied, keeping his eyes even with mine. “in case you didn’t notice humans don’t growl.”
This time I scoffed, “Really did you figure that out all by yourself?” He glared at me.
“She’s not human you idiot,” Dean snapped, “She’s an Interloper,”
“What’s that?” Garth asked.
Sam set his drink aside, “Interlopers are people with animal linked spirits. They roam a lot, that’s how Dean and I met her. They are also very susceptible to silver.”
Garth lowered the weapon then eyed Breanna, “So are you one too?”
“Nope,” She chirped, folding her hands innocently behind her back. “Just human,”
Once Dean was certain that Garth and I weren’t going to kill each other he turned towards me, taking my injured hand in his, wiping the blood off.
“Its not bad,” I replied, “I won’t need stitches, it just stings a lot.”
Garth stared at me now intrigued, “So, animal linked spirits huh? What’s yours?”
Dean ignored the conversation between Garth and me, eyed my hand once more until it met his approval, then he slowly let go of my hand.
“My soul is bound to a wolf’s.” I admitted.
“So what can you do, control it?”
“Something like that.” I said discreetly, not wanting to give myself up.
“Oh,” He said, upset that I did not tell him my whole life story.
“It’s a long story.” I pointed out. “Besides Dean and Sam know my story, and they still trust me, and Breanna’s been my friend since I was little. If you’re the only one kept in the dark about my personal life, it would not hurt my feelings in the least. All you need to know is not to underestimate me.”
(Yay two Issues in one night! :D I really enjoyed writing this chapter...hope you loved it too! :P )