Summary:  When Dean nixes all of Sam’s proposals for a new hunt, Sam challenges Dean to pick the next one. Dean’s case has Sam running for cover, thereby proving the old axiom, “Be Careful What You Wish For.”
A/N:  This story is in response to a writer’s challenge issued by my friend, Shar. I’ll post the parameters of the challenge at the end of the story. (c;
Jubilea and Shar for beta’ing, and Jen B for simply being an awesome sounding board.
Disclaimer:  The guys, the car, and the concept belong to the CW and Kripke.

Dean typed away at the laptop bemoaning his fate yet again. He and Sam had been stuck in one cheap motel after another for nearly four weeks. Dean had avoided taking on any new jobs until Sam had a chance to heal. Sam had been hurt during their last gig, and Dean was not taking any chances with his health. However, even brotherly concern had its limits, and Dean had reached his yesterday.

“Dude, give me the remote,” Sam demanded.

“Not on your life, Sammy-boy,” Dean replied shoving the remote under his leg. “I’ve watched enough of the History Channel to last me a lifetime. What was that we watched yesterday, ‘Modern Marvels: Coffee’? Coffee, Sam?”

“Hey, it was interesting,” Sam defended, making another pass at snagging the remote.

“It was coffee,” Dean insisted. He twisted, and easily grabbed the remote, shoving it further underneath his leg when Sam reached for it. “Leave it,” he demanded, his eyes twinkling in amusement. “We’re watching what I want to watch for awhile.”

Sam walked back over to his bed, and sat down with a huff. He could log on to the Internet, or read one of the books jammed in his duffle bag, but he did not want to. He wanted to get even with Dean for forcing him to watch, ‘Monster Garage.’ At least they both drank coffee.

“You can stop sulking,” Dean announced to the air in general. He did not turn around to look at Sam. He did not need to. He could feel Sam’s eyes boring into his back.

“I’m not sulking,” Sam replied.

“Are to,” Dean countered.

“Whatever,” Sam replied. He was not getting drawn into this game. He lay back on the bed trying to feign sleep, hoping he could actually fall asleep. At least that would be something. He sighed loudly. ‘Okay, maybe I am sulking,’ he thought.

“Are to,” Dean said again.

“That’s it,” Sam stated sitting up again. “We need to get out. If not for a new hunt, then let’s just hit a bar or something. We could have a couple of beers, maybe shoot some darts,” Sam suggested. A chance at beer, and beating him at darts was not something Sam thought Dean would be able to pass up.

“I’m good,” Dean replied simply. He was not taking Sam back to a bar until he was fully healed. There was always a potential for things to escalate out of control, and he did not want to risk it. Letting Sam know he would not go because he was concerned for him would only start another fight, and it would be less amusing than baiting Sam.

“Well, I’m not,” Sam said standing up. “I’m taking a walk.” He started looking for his jacket. He knew it had to be around here somewhere, but in the last three days, the motel room had been thrashed. He was not even sure where to start looking.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Dean said firmly. After several beats of stone cold silence, he turned to look at Sam. Sam was standing stiffly, his jaw held tight, and with his eyebrow raised. ‘Wrong strategy,’ Dean thought. He stood up, and walked over to Sam. “What I meant to say, is we are going to dinner. I thought we could start discussing our next job.”

Sam smirked. He knew that was not what Dean had been intending to say, but it worked to his advantage all the same. “Sounds like a plan,” Sam replied.

Dinner consisted of burgers at the greasy spoon on the corner, but it was a welcome change of scenery. Sam felt he would go completely insane if he had to stare at the brown paneling and red shag carpet of their motel room any longer. “There’s a beheading in Monterey, Virginia, the police don’t have any leads. Could be vampires again,” Sam speculated.

“Nah,” Dean replied. He was still hoping to avoid other hunters for awhile. “One beheading isn’t vampires. I’ve never heard of one vampire, they always live in nests.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Sam conceded. His eyes flicked over the monitor screen for several minutes. “Here’s one that sounds like our kind of gig. A large, hairy, ape-like animal was spotted in rural Nebraska.”

“Nope, I’m not chasing after a possible chupacabra when it is probably just somebody’s dog,” Dean replied. He took a large bite of his hamburger, and looked over at Sam. Sam was scowling, and Dean knew he was getting frustrated.

“Look, if you are going to reject all of my suggestions, why don’t you come up with our next case?” Sam asked. He looked up from the computer, and turned the laptop towards Dean. “Have at it,” he said.

“You want me to find our next gig? You won’t complain about what I pick, or question it?” Dean asked with a grin.

“That’s more consideration than you’ve ever shown me,” Sam groused. “But yeah, I wish you would do the research on this one. At least then, you’ll stop fighting me on all of my suggestions.”

“Deal,” Dean replied quickly, a little too quickly for Sam’s liking.

“The only catch is you have to decide within twenty-four hours. I’m not letting you use this as an excuse to sit around here for another week,” Sam added.

“Not a problem,” Dean replied.

That was yesterday, and he was no closer to finding a suitable gig than he was when he first started. Dean was just about to give up, when an article caught his eye. He scanned the story briefly, and a slow, wide smile spread across his face. It was perfect.

“What’s with all the secrecy?” Sam asked. He turned slightly in his seat to look at Dean. “I already agreed to go wherever you decided.” Sam rolled his window down. The morning air was quite warm, and the further south they headed the warmer it would become.

“It’s not a secret,” Dean argued. “I just don’t want to listen to you complain the whole way to Florida.”

“Dean, at least tell me what it is we’re going after,” Sam insisted. “You know it works best when we research fully before-hand. If we go in there blind, it’s a crap shoot.”

“Who says I didn’t do the research?” Dean asked flippantly.

“Did you?” Sam asked, genuinely surprised at the possibility.

“No, but I could have,” Dean replied. He glanced over at Sam, and was secretly amused by his obvious frustration at being left in the dark.

“Dean,” Sam started, thumping his hand down on the door.

“It’s a poltergeist,” Dean said letting Sam off the hook. “Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” Sam replied sarcastically. “Any leads on the origin?”

“Nope, that’s what I have my little brother for,” Dean replied without missing a beat. “We’ll be there in seven and a half hours. Before you ask, I already checked, and the resort does have free wireless Internet.”

“A resort?” Sam verified. He knew it. Dean was attempting to sequester him away yet again. At least a resort sounded interesting.

“Hey, don’t be so suspicious, Sam,” Dean defended. “There really is a job there.”

“I didn’t say anything,” Sam protested.

“You were thinking it,” Dean replied knowingly. He switched lanes to pass an old Chevy Nova. It hurt the Impala’s pride to be stuck behind a car like that.

Sam shook his head, but offered no ready response. He really did believe Dean was making up a hunt at a resort to pacify him, and yet keep him from actually doing anything strenuous. Truth be told, he was not a hundred percent yet, but he was almost there. “What’s the name of the resort?” Sam asked finally.

“The Sunnyvale Naturalist Spirit Renewal and Spa,” Dean replied with a grin.

Sam barely contained his look of shock. Dean would not consider going to a place like that whether he was trying to force Sam to rest or not unless there was a hunt involved. “Well, you convinced me,” Sam replied. “There really is a hunt.”

“You should trust me more often,” Dean replied. His expression turned from amusement to confusion, “But, what convinced you?” he asked.

“The Dean Winchester I know would not subject himself to a new age, spiritualistic, spa experience simply to keep me under wraps for another week,” Sam replied with a smile. “You’re altruistic, not unbreakable. If there was nothing there to hunt, it would kill you in two days.”

“Hey, that’s not true. There’s bound to be plenty of free-spirited women there,” Dean protested. “It would take at least three days.”

Dean made up some time along the Interstate, and as promised, the Sunnyvale resort loomed in the distance in less than seven hours. The resort was situated on a lake, with miles of sunny beaches. Dean could not wait until they had this wrapped up, so he could enjoy one of the perks of finally landing a job in the middle of somewhere nice for a change.

As Sam watched the perfectly manicured landscape go by, he realized this was a high end resort. “Dean, how are we going to be able to afford to stay here?” Sam asked. “If we use one of your bogus credit cards, they’ll catch us right away. Places like this check card validity. I doubt we’ll be able to get in anyway, we probably need a reservation.” Sam paused and looked over at Dean. “What?”

“You finished?” Dean asked, with a head nod to emphasize his question.

“Yeah,” Sam replied furrowing his brow.

“We have a reservation, and don’t worry about the how we’ll pay for it. It’s covered,” Dean reassured him. Dean slipped the Impala into a parking spot, and turned off the car. Sam was still sitting in his seat staring at the resort. “Come on, Sam,” Dean said. “Let go check in.”

Sam shook his head as if trying to clear the cobwebs and replied, “Yeah, sure,” he said, opening the door and sliding out of the car. He met Dean back at the trunk, and took his duffel bag from Dean’s grasp. “I’ll carry my bag,” Sam stated giving the duffel a tug.

Dean released his grip and allowed Sam to have the bag. “I’m not stopping you,” Dean replied.

Sam smiled and followed Dean into the resort lobby. His period of enforced rest seemed to be over. It was time to get back in the game.

The lobby was furnished with soft, muted fabrics. The stonework on the floor and fireplace added to the earthy feel. The walls were painted an Italian yellow, and large green plants accented the room. The stone fountain in the corner of the sitting area trickled in harmony to pipe music.

Sam glanced over at Dean expecting to see him scowling, but he was not. Dean was smiling. Sam followed Dean’s line of sight over to the attractive, brunette behind the counter. Okay, well that makes sense, Sam thought.

“Dean!” the brunette shouted. She ran out from behind the counter, and enveloped Dean in a large bear hug.

“Hi, Laurie,” Dean replied. He gently extricated himself from Laurie’s choking grip, and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. “How’s your dad?”

“He’s getting better,” Laurie replied, her matching green eyes flashing. “After the stroke, he was pretty depressed, but being back at home has improved his spirits.” Laurie’s eyes caught sight of Sam. “You must be Sam,” she said.

Before Sam could respond, Laurie slight frame was wrapped around his middle. He shot Dean a questioning look as he returned the hug. Dean only shrugged his shoulders in response.

Laurie released Sam and said, “Dean told me so much about you. I feel as if I know you already.”

“Really, my brother is not usually so talkative,” Sam replied with a half chuckle. He raised his eyebrows at Dean, who responded with another shoulder shrug.

“It must be because he’s so proud of you,” Laurie said.

“Laurie,” Dean interrupted. “Maybe Sam and I could check in first and then meet you for dinner to discuss what is going on here.”

“Oh, sure absolutely,” Laurie replied. “And Dean, as I told you over the phone, you are doing us a huge favor. Room and board is the very least we can do.”

“It’s more than enough and much more than we normally get,” Dean replied resting his hand on Laurie’s shoulder. “Usually, we get a police escort out of town.”

Laurie laughed and walked back behind the counter. “I saved you a suite. You’ll each have your own bedroom and there’s a living room, kitchen, and dining room as well. If you need anything, just call. Here are your keys,” Laurie said, handing one electronic key to Dean and one to Sam. “If you want a tour of the resort, I’ll be happy to have someone show you around.”

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Dean replied starting to walk down the hall. “We’re pretty good at finding our way around.”

“If you change your mind, don’t hesitate to ask,” Laurie replied with a small wave. “Oh, and Dean?” she called.

“Yeah?” Dean asked turning back around to face Laurie.

“You’ll be sure to explain the guidelines to Sam, won’t you?” she asked.

“I’ll be sure to fill him in,” Dean replied with a smile.

Sam tilted his head fractionally at Dean’s smile. There was a catch here somewhere and Dean knew what it was. He was not worried before, but he was now. “Dean,” Sam asked trailing slightly behind his brother. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I don’t tell you a lot of things, Sam,” Dean replied, not turning around to face Sam, but instead continuing down the hallway. “You’re going to have to narrow that down for me a bit.”

“I think you know what I mean,” Sam retorted. “What guidelines? That sounded vaguely ominous.”

“Lighten up, Sam,” Dean replied. “It’s a naturalistic spa and spirit renewal resort. Of course there are membership guidelines.”

“And that’s it?” Sam asked.

“That’s it,” Dean replied. He stopped in front of Suite 11. Dean swiped his card key and entered the room. He remembered the resort was posh, but he had forgotten just how much effort Laurie put into the aesthetics of every room.

Dean felt Sam stop behind him. Neither of them said anything for several moments until Sam broke the silence. “How in the world did you ever meet a woman as classy as Laurie?” Sam asked. “Our line of work doesn’t usually have us rubbing elbows with people like her.”

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Dean intoned. “While you were in college, I expanded my horizons.”

“You stumbled into it,” Sam said. It was a statement, not a question.

“That too,” Dean replied. He walked into the closest bedroom and threw his bag onto the bed staking claim to it. Strategically, it was a good spot. Close to the kitchen, close to the bathroom and between the door and Sam. He would have an entire full size bed to himself and it was a rare luxury.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam asked his head appearing in Dean’s doorway.

“Yeah?” Dean responded, unzipping his bag.

“Are you sure you want this room? I’m willing to flip for the other one,” Sam offered.

“Nope, I’m good,” Dean replied. “You’re stuck.”

“But, Dean,” Sam protested.

“Nope, suck it up, Sammy,” Dean insisted pulling his toiletries out of the bag.

“Okay, if you insist,” Sam replied, disappearing once again.

Dean grabbed his razor, toothbrush, and shampoo and dropped them off in the bathroom. The bathroom was huge, with a large oversized shower. He noticed the spray had several settings. He could feel the massage on his knotted back muscles already. He toyed with the idea of taking a shower when a knock sounded at the door.

Dean’s hand twitched spasmodically towards the gun tucked in the small of his back. He looked out the peep hole to find Laurie standing there with a small cart. Dean swung the door open and graced Laurie with one of his best megawatt smiles. “You didn’t have to bring us anything,” he said.

“It’s not a problem. I need to eat too, you know,” Laurie replied giving him a gentle swat on the chest. “Mind if I set it out? I’m starved.” She knelt down to pull out the silver domed platter on the bottom rack of the cart.

“I’m up for anything you are,” Dean replied suggestively.

Laurie’s bobbed hair bounced when she stood back up quickly. “No need to be subtle,” Laurie said. “If you’re looking to rekindle our physical relationship while you are staying here, I’m definitely interested.” She placed the domed platter on the table and leaned in closer to Dean. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she placed a passionate kiss upon his lips.

“Am I interrupting something?” Sam asked from the doorway to the back end of the room.

“Yes,” Laurie replied sweetly, turning to face Sam.

“No,” Dean replied simultaneously, his head jerking back up.

Laurie picked up another platter and placed it on the table, followed by a crystal pitcher of iced water with lemon. “Your brother, hinted he was up for something physical tonight, but it doesn’t appear that’s actually the case,” she supplied.

“I never said I wasn’t up for it,” Dean protested. “We’re here to do a job, and Sam…”

“Don’t use me as an excuse, Dean,” Sam replied, throwing Dean under the bus. “I’m a big boy now and perfectly capable of conducting research while you are out doing…whatever.”

Dean threw Sam an angry scowl. “All I’m saying is we have a job to do first,” Dean replied, sitting down at the table.

“I don’t remember you being so bashful last time,” Laurie said leaning in towards Dean again.

“I’m not bash, It’s just we,” Dean stuttered out, losing focus as Laurie wrapped her arms around his neck. “I’m all yours,” he finished.

Laurie laughed as she sat down at the table, and Sam rolled his eyes. “That certainly wasn’t hard,” Sam stated.

“Not yet, at any rate,” Laurie dead-panned, passing the steamed broccoli to Sam. Sam coughed sharply and chuckled at the bug-eyed expression Dean wore and the blush climbing his neck. Dinner was going to be fun after all.

“So, Dean tells me we’re after a poltergeist,” Sam said. “How long have you noticed something unusual going on, and what makes you think it is a poltergeist?”

Laurie scooped a mound of raisin-apple orzo unto her plate and said, “It’s been going on ever since my father returned from the hospital. I think it is a poltergeist, because it seems a lot like the problem Dean solved for us before.”

“Has anyone been hurt?” Dean asked, his eyes flashing concern.

“Thank goodness, no one yet, anyway,” Laurie replied. “It started with missing personal items, staff members getting locked in storage closets or in the walk-in freezer. However, it has been escalating and last week, dishes and food went flying around the kitchen.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” Dean asked.

This time, it was Laurie who blushed. “I couldn’t find your number anymore. I knew you and I would probably never run into each other again and what were the chances I’d need another ghost buster? I was so happy when you called. Dad is certain you’ll be able to help. He’s offering to pay you a fee.”

“You don’t have to pay us, Laurie,” Dean replied. He bypassed the orzo and stabbed a piece of chicken with his fork. “You know, we do what we do to help people.”

“Afraid of being an honest man for a couple of weeks? Credit card scamming is the only way you can live comfortably with your conscience?” Laurie asked sarcastically. At Dean’s head shake she softened her tone and added, “Do it for Sam.”

“That’s playing dirty pool,” Dean protested.

“That makes two of us,” Laurie smirked, her green eyes twinkling.

“Hey, still here,” Sam said, suddenly feeling like the unwelcome third wheel on a date.

Dean broke eye contact with Laurie and actually gave Sam an apologetic glance. “We’ll need a list of staff members who experienced any of these events so we can interview them.”

Laurie nodded. “I already told them you were from the insurance company. They’re expecting you to be poking around and asking odd questions.”

“Perfect,” Sam replied with a small smile.

The meal continued in silence while each one watched the other for some sort of signal as to what was going to happen next. It was an odd game of cops and robbers without the beers. “I’m going to head back to my room. I need to make sure the aide helped dad to bed before giving the night shift crew report. Just leave the dishes and the cart in the hall. The cleaning service will pick it up,” Laurie announced standing up to leave. “I hope to see you in an hour or so,” she said to Dean.

“G’night, Laurie,” Dean said shutting the door behind her. When he turned around, Sam was clearing off the table.

“You’re not going?” Sam asked.

“No, we have a case to work. I’m going to head down to the kitchen and interview the staff before they go home for the day,” Dean replied.

“I’m thinking about taking a nice long shower and then hitting the sack early. If you don’t get back right away, I probably won’t even notice,” Sam stated, rolling the cart into the hall. Dean was shaking his head at Sam when he turned around.

“Smooth, Sam, very smooth,” Dean said. “I changed my mind; I may be gone for awhile. You know Laurie can do some amazing things with…”

“Dean, I don’t want to know. I really, really, don’t want to know,” Sam protested. “Go. Just go.”

“I’ll be back…later,” Dean said with a grin before shutting the door.

“Yeah-huh,” Sam muttered to no one. “I’m not waiting up, that’s for sure.”

Sam went back to his bedroom to retrieve the laptop and brought it back out to the dining room table. While he was waiting for it to boot up, he went into the kitchen and searched through the mini-bar. He felt a little guilty for imposing on Laurie’s hospitality as he cracked open a beer.

The computer chimed as the WLAN on the laptop found the resort’s WiFi connection. Sam logged into the Internet and decided to check out information on the resort. He had barely scanned the first two lines before he slammed the beer bottle down with such force a stream of beer shot out the top narrowly avoiding the laptop on its decent.

“I’m going to kill him,” Sam muttered through gritted teeth.

“Laurie, I have to go,” Dean said, pulling on his jeans. “I still have to fill Sam in on the whole scoop.”

“You didn’t tell him?” Laurie asked. She sat up in the bed, and pulled the sheet up to her neck holding it in place with her hand. She reached towards Dean with her other hand as he stood up, and started to walk away. “Wait, Dean,” Laurie began. “I’m sure Sam is already asleep. It’s two in the morning.”

“You don’t know Sam,” Dean replied. “He’s probably up right now, trying to research what is really happening here at the resort.”

“If that’s the case, he already knows the big secret,” Laurie replied. “We do have our own website.”

Dean’s face shot from horrified to panic. “I gotta go,” he said quickly as he beat a hasty retreat out the door.

Moments later, Dean stood outside the door to Suite 11 with his hand on the doorknob. He dropped his hand, and paced several times in front of the door, before grabbing the handle again. Dean weighed his options.

One, Sam already knew about the resort. Go in, blow it off as no big deal, ignore Sam’s protests, and go to bed. Dean released the handle, and paced down the hall once before returning to the door.

Two, Sam didn’t already know, and he was off the hook for the night. No, he was not that lucky. Dean walked down the hall in the other direction, and came back again.

Three, Sam already knew, and Sam lets him have it with both barrels before he can get a word in edgewise. Yep, that was the one. Dean dropped the doorknob again, and was about to pace the hall one more time, when the door suddenly swung open.

“Get in here,” Sam hissed in a hushed voice. “If you pace down the hall one more time, someone is going to complain.” He turned his back on Dean and walked further into the room before turning around to face Dean again, who was hovering in the doorway.

Dean saw the laptop was on the dining room table, and it was open and fired up. That meant Sam had indeed been conducting research. “How’s the research coming along?” Dean asked casually. He headed for the mini-bar to check on the possibility of beer.

Sam did not answer him, and Dean saw three beer bottles sitting in the small garbage can near the sink. He knew then, he really was in trouble. He opened the small refrigerator, but did not find any beer. “Sam, did you drink all the beer?” he asked without turning around to face his brother.

The lack of response from his normally verbose sibling had Dean mentally squirming. Sam was not going to make this easy for him. “What are you still doing up, anyway?” Dean tried again. When that too failed to elicit a response from his brother, Dean closed the refrigerator, and turned back towards Sam.

Dean was surprised to find Sam standing in the same spot, and staring at him through hooded eyes. To Dean’s, well versed in all things Sam, eyes his little brother was a combination of angry and drunk. “I think you should go to bed, Sam,” Dean said at last. “You look pretty tired.”

“When were you planning on telling me?” Sam asked.

Dean blinked in startled confusion. Sam neither sounded angry or accusatory. When in doubt, play ignorant. “Tell you what?” Dean asked walking closer to Sam, leaving only the table between them.

“Dean, don’t. I’m tired, and frankly, I’m at a loss to explain how or why you thought this would be a good idea. I just want to go to bed with some way of reconciling this in my head,” Sam replied wearily, leaning forward and resting his hands on the table. “Why here, and why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, obviously I chose here because I know Laurie, and she’s having problems. Our sort of problems,” Dean explained patiently. He was using his, I’m the big brother voice, and Sam shot him a warning glare. Dean did not bother to change his tone, but continued, “As to why I didn’t tell you? That should also be pretty clear based on the way you are reacting. Which, for the record, is a breach of our agreement.” Dean sat down in the chair, and smiled.

“Our agreement?” Sam asked. He flopped down into the chair opposite Dean with a sigh. “What agreement?”

“When I agreed to pick the next job, you said you wouldn’t complain or question my choice,” Dean replied. “You’ve done both.”

“When I agreed to that, I figured it was going to be angry spirits, zombies, or rawheads, not - well, not this,” Sam stated. He ran a hand through his hair, and returned it to the table where he beat out a nervous rhythm before catching himself and stopping.

Dean laughed. “Come on, Sammy,” he chuckled. “You’re trying to tell me this is harder to face than those things?”

“I know and understand those things,” Sam defended. “This is…”

“Natural,” Dean interrupted. “And Spiritual.”

“Funny,” Sam shot back sarcastically.

“You know, I don’t remember you putting any stipulations on our agreement when we made it other than I needed to choose a hunt within twenty-four hours, and I did,” Dean volleyed. “I think the only question left here is whether I explain the rules to you tonight or in the morning.”

“In the morning,” Sam replied. “I’m too tired tonight, and I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“That’s a first,” Dean muttered quietly.

“You’re a riot,” Sam responded standing up from the table. He narrowed his eyes and added, “We’ll talk in the morning.”

Dean bit back a sarcastic reply. Sometimes it really was better if you did not poke the bear with a stick. “Good night, Sam,” he said instead.

Sam nodded and stumbled down the hall towards his room. Dean decided to grab a couple hours of sleep, and headed for his room as well. Soon it was dark and quiet in the suite save for the occasional rustle of sheets.

Dean entered the bathroom, and turned on the hot water for the shower. He was mildly surprised to discover Sam had not already showered. It was rare for Sam to sleep in longer than he did. He caught sight of Sam through the bathroom mirror as he walked past the doorway. “Sam?” Dean called.

“Yeah?” Sam asked, reappearing in the mirror.

“How long will it take you to get ready?” Dean asked.

Sam frowned and replied, “I’m showered, dressed and ready to talk when you are.”

It was Dean’s turn to frown. “Talk, right. I’ll be out in ten,” Dean replied shutting the bathroom door. He was not looking forward to this discussion.

Dean emerged from the bathroom eight minutes later, clad only in his boxers. The steam from his too hot shower billowed behind him. He crossed into the living room, and flopped down on the sofa opposite Sam. “Whatcha reading?” he asked.

Sam looked up from his laptop, and noticed Dean’s attire, or lack thereof. Despite the fact they had essentially lived in the close quarters of motel rooms their whole lives, they typically did not wander around partially dressed. “Practicing?” Sam quipped as he raised an eyebrow.

“You might say that,” Dean responded with a grin. He nodded towards the laptop indicating he was still waiting for an answer to his question.

“It was the one article the local press did on the attack in the kitchen,” Sam replied shutting down the computer.

“That’s the one that caught my attention,” Dean replied. “Notice the part where the head chef suggests the attack is unexplainable by any normal means?”

“Did you notice the chef’s name?” Sam asked with a hint of condensation lacing his tone.

“No, why?” Dean asked.

“It’s Paul Chambers,” Sam replied.

“Well, that clears everything up,” Dean replied sarcastically.

“Paul Chambers is Laurie’s paternal cousin. He could be causing trouble in an attempt to gain some sort of control over the resort, and James’ estate,” Sam explained.

“Jim,” Dean corrected. “Did you order breakfast? I’m starving,” Dean added abruptly changing topics.

“Not yet, Scooby,” Sam replied with a grin. “I thought maybe we could start out by interviewing some of the kitchen staff. We could pick up a sandwich or something while we are there.”

“You just want to start somewhere you won’t have to lose your shirt,” Dean smirked.

“Dean,” Sam replied exasperatedly. He shook his head and ran his hand through his hair. “What were you thinking?”

“Hey, I landed us a gig in a nice place for a change. We never get to stay in places like this, and certainly not free,” Dean protested.

“Yeah, but Dean, it’s essentially a nudist colony,” Sam countered. He reached behind the couch, and grabbed the laptop case.

“I’m surprised at you,” Dean replied. “I would have thought the whole college experience meant you kept your mind open to new possibilities.”

Sam looked up at Dean as he slid the laptop into its case. “I went to school to study law,” Sam deadpanned. “As a group, we’re a fairly conservative bunch.”

A slow grin spread across Dean’s face. “Was that a joke, Sammy?” Dean asked, standing up and slapping Sam on the shoulder as he passed by on his way to the kitchen. “I’m impressed.”

Sam stood up and joined Dean in the kitchen. “Dean would you stop rummaging around in the fridge, I think it’s time you filled me in on the etiquette at the resort.”

“First of all, I only got one piece of chicken last night and I’m hungry,” Dean defended, pulling his head out from behind the refrigerator door. “Secondly, there aren’t too many rules. Essentially, you don’t wear anything.”

“You know the website was actually more helpful. You can wear as little or as many clothes as you feel comfortable in until you adjust to the resort. The only exceptions are the pool and spa,” Sam stated, sitting down at the table.

“I gotta tell ya, you’re not going to get anywhere with the people here, if you’re going to be a grandma about this,” Dean quipped.

“If it means I get to keep my pants on for awhile,” Sam replied. “I can live with it.”

Dean rolled his eyes, and joined Sam at the table. “Fine. While you play Ms. Junior Detective with the kitchen staff, I’ll talk to some of the crew and guests at the pool and spa so you don’t have to get your feet wet,” Dean said smiling at his own joke. “Don’t say I never did anything for you.”

“Never would,” Sam replied, standing up and heading for the back bedroom. “I’ll meet you here in a couple of hours.”

“No, meet me in the café,” Dean corrected. “I’m hungry remember?”

Sam turned back around to face Dean who was still sitting at the table, but now had his feet up on the chair Sam had recently vacated. He was leaning back, his arms behind his head, with his eyes closed. Sam walked back towards Dean and asked, “You are planning to actually move from this room, right?”

Dean opened one eye to look up at his towering brother. “Yeah?” he replied.

“Looks like you’re falling asleep on the job,” Sam observed gesturing towards Dean’s reclining form.

“Nah, I’m giving you a chance to get out of here first,” Dean replied closing his eye again. “Unless you’d prefer to have an awkward brotherly moment before you go.”

“Sa’alright,” Sam replied quickly. He opted not to stow his laptop after all, but instead exited the room with all due haste.

Dean chuckled and remarked to the room at large, “You’re too easy sometimes, Sam.”

Sam stood near the staff door entrance to the kitchen. He was hoping he was right about Paul, it would certainly make for a quick and painless job, and they could leave that much sooner. As soon as the thought entered his head Sam realized how wrong he was. If it would make the job quicker, easier and he’d be able to leave sooner, it could not possibly be the right answer. Things were never that easy.

Sam sighed and entered the kitchen. It was immense and immersed in organized chaos, with gleaming stainless steel appliances. The kitchen staff scurried between each other, each one busy in a task at hand that benefited another. Each one was dependent on another to finish on time, so they could assemble or complete a dish. The food was funneled to the front where the wait staff could easily enter from the dining room to pick it up. Sam was reminded instantly of an ant colony.

“I’m Sam. Laurie said I could talk to you,” Sam called out to no one in particular. Not a soul raised their head, and the only sounds in response were chopping, and banging. “Is Paul Chambers here?” Sam asked trying another tack.

“Chef Chambers is not here until lunch,” an unidentified voice replied. No one moved, and Sam could not tell who answered.

“Is there anyone here now who witnessed the kitchen incident last week?” Sam asked.

Three hands shot into the air briefly, before returning to their work. Sam moved closer to the owner of the first set. “You were in the kitchen the night in question?” he asked. A head bobbed in response. This was not going to be easy. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, sorry, it’s Allie,” the woman responded. She huffed and blew the bangs away from her forehead. “I don’t know what to tell you exactly. I’ve never seen anything like that before.”

“It’s okay, just think back. What’s the first thing you noticed?” Sam replied softening his voice. He leaned in closer to Allie and she seemed to relax slightly.

Allie stopped chopping carrots, and tilted her head marginally in thought. “The first thing I noticed was the hanging utensils.” She noticed Sam’s questioning gaze and added, “Over there, the hanging utensils were shaking and then they flew in different directions.”

“They didn’t just fall?” Sam asked.

Allie squinted and gave him the, you’ve got to be kidding me, face. “No, not unless the pull of the gravitational force shifted to the walls.” Allie replied sardonically.

“I think we can safely rule out that possibility,” Sam replied with a small smile. “Did you notice anything else?”

“Only complete and utter destruction,” Allie said. “Plates, food, pans, flying around the kitchen. It took us hours to get it all cleaned up. It was the middle of the dinner rush too.” Allie made a noise of disgust, and started chopping again in earnest.

Sam took that as his cue to leave and said, “Thank you, Allie.” Allie waggled her knife at him, but did not look up again. Sam hoped the next employee he interviewed had more information to offer than Allie.

Dean stopped in the men’s locker room briefly to slip out of his boxers before heading to the pool. Whether he knew it or not, Sam owed him for this. Dean remembered his last sojourn into the land of the underdressed, and not everyone who frequented a naturalist resort was young or in shape. The pool and the spa would be the two most likely places to run into the older clientele who were more comfortable with low impact, low visibility activities. Now the beach volleyball, that, he was looking forward to.

He was lost in his thoughts and almost ran smack into a paunchy man in his late fifties. “Sorry,” Dean mumbled not making eye contact. His eyes were already focused on a younger woman near the pool. She was reading a book poolside seemingly lost in her own world. However, whenever there was a loud noise or increased activity she would look up, and glance around furtively over the top of her book. She definitely was not as relaxed as she tried to pretend.

“Hey there,” Dean said giving her one of his best charming smiles. “Poetry?”

Gretchen looked up from her book at the handsome, well-built man in front of her. She swallowed back her disdainful reply. It was not the first time an attractive man had come on to her, and he certainly had not said anything original, but there was something about him that made him seem genuine, caring. She met his green eyes, and realized what it was. It was his eyes. She smiled back at him. “Care to have a seat?” she asked, gesturing to the chair beside her.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Dean replied with a smirk. He laid down his towel, sat down on the chair, and decided maybe Sam was off the hook after all. “Are you enjoying the resort?” Dean asked.

“Absolutely,” Gretchen replied with a smile. “My friends and I come here every year.” Gretchen frowned slightly.

“But…” Dean prompted.

“But, there has been some strange stuff happening this year,” Gretchen responded. She had no idea why she was confessing her stupid, paranoid thoughts to a complete stranger.

“Things you can’t quite explain?” Dean asked. He leaned forward resting his forearms on his legs. “Things you don’t think anyone will believe?”

“Yeah,” Gretchen said quietly. “I mean it isn’t anything I can put my finger on exactly. My earrings disappeared off the dresser in my room, and I found them later in my suitcase. I know I wore them the night before, and left them on my dresser. And sometimes, sometimes, I just get the feeling I’m being watched.” Gretchen laughed and added, “Well, that sounded egotistical and paranoid.”

“No, no it didn’t,” Dean replied. “It sounded reasonable to me.”

“Now, you are just being nice, or you’re a little egotistical and paranoid as well,” Gretchen replied with a smile. She caught the smirk on Dean’s face and remarked, “It’s the latter, isn’t it?”

“Hey, I’m nice too,” Dean mock protested.

Gretchen laughed, bookmarked the page, and set down her book. “You know, there is one other thing,” Gretchen said thoughtfully. “When I feel like I’m being watched, I get a chill, and sometimes the lights flicker.” Gretchen laughed lightly, dipped her head and whispered, “Why’d I tell him that?”

Dean leaned forward and replied, “It’s okay, I believe you.”

Gretchen turned her head towards Dean and smiled. “You’re just a little crazy on top of everything else, aren’t you?”

Dean cracked a wide grin. “Not for the reasons you think,” he replied. “What room are you staying in?”

Gretchen’s smile disappeared and she gave Dean an appraising look. “Why?”

“Ah, hey, hey, no,” Dean replied. “I’m just trying to figure out where this thing is appearing. It appeared in the kitchen, and now in your room, and…”

“It?” Gretchen interrupted with a frown.

“Something is causing these things to happen,” Dean explained. “I’m just trying to find out what, so I can stop it.”

Gretchen narrowed her eyes briefly and replied, “I guess now it’s my turn to believe you.” She paused and added, “Room seventy-two.”

“Thanks,” Dean replied moving to stand. Gretchen rested her hand on his knee in an unspoken request to stay. Dean glanced at his watch, and decided he could stay for a few minutes. He leaned back into the chair, and gave Gretchen a smile. She smiled back at Dean and waved down the wait-person at the poolside bar. It was almost noon, and time for a drink.

Sam hurried back to the room to change before he was supposed to meet Dean in the café. He placed the laptop on his bed, and stood there for a moment debating about what he should do. He had noticed the disapproving looks from the other resort guests at his appearance. One woman had even gone so far as to make a rude comment, and guide her husband to the opposite side of the hall. So help him, Dean was right and he was not going to be able to communicate with the others guests unless he attempted to fit in with the group.

Sam peeled off his t-shirt, kicked off his shoes, and slid out of his blue jeans. He sat down on the end of the bed, and hung his head. He did not know if he could take the final step. He knew for certain he would be unable to walk down the hall, and out to the poolside café without any clothes on, or at least something to hide behind. Sam played with the strap on the laptop bag, lost in thought. He sat there for another moment before the obvious answer came to him.

Dean was on his second glass of iced tea when he spotted Sam approaching the table. He chuckled to himself when he noticed the strategic manner in which Sam carried the laptop bag. He had lengthened the strap so the bag hung directly in front of him at waist level. Dean could not tell from this distance if Sam had gone the entire way, but it did not matter. Seeing his kid brother so far out of his comfort zone was amusing enough.

“Hey,” Sam greeted Dean. He spread out a towel and had a seat. Dean noticed he did not remove the laptop before sitting down.

“Do you plan to hold that thing for the entire lunch?” Dean asked with a smirk.

“As a matter of fact, yes I do,” Sam replied good-naturedly. “Did you see they have a large Zen garden out by the shuffleboard court?” he asked abruptly changing topics.

“I didn’t make it past the pool,” Dean admitted. “I met this girl…”

“Why am I not surprised?” Sam interjected.

“What?” Dean asked leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Play nice, Sammy, I was interviewing her about the poltergeist.”

Sam held up his arms in surrender. “Sorry,” Sam replied with a smile. “Continue.”

“I met this girl, Gretchen,” Dean repeated. “She is staying in room seventy-two, and she mentioned mysteriously moving jewelry. She also complained of the feeling of being watched and said that when it happened the room was cold and the lights flickered.”

Sam raised his eyebrows and nodded his head in understanding of the implication. “I spoke with three members of the kitchen staff, and all they really had to offer was what was already in the article. However, I did wait until Paul showed up in the kitchen to speak with him.”

“Yeah?” Dean prompted, flagging down the waitress. “Did he shed any light on it for you?”

“No,” Sam replied. “And, I don’t believe he is trying to cause any trouble at the resort. He’s surly, cantankerous and pompous, but all he’s concerned about is the kitchen.”

“May I help you gentlemen?” the waitress asked, setting two menus down on the table.

Sam looked up at the waitress, and immediately turned his head back towards the menu. He could feel the red climbing up his neck, and the heat in his face. He glanced over at Dean who was smiling at the waitress.

“I’ll have the tri-tip sandwich with garlic fries,” Dean answered as he jiggled his empty glass. “And more ice tea when you get a chance.”

“I’ll uh, I’ll have,” Sam stumbled. Truth was he could not even read the menu; his eyes were blurry with tears of embarrassment. He blinked a couple of times to clear his vision. “I’ll have what he’s having,” Sam finished quickly.

“Right away,” the waitress replied.

“Sam,” Dean said leaning closer on the table. Sam looked up at Dean with a questioning gaze. Dean nodded his head towards the waitress. “She’s waiting for your menu.”

“Oh, right,” Sam replied, handing the waitress the menu without looking at her.

Dean laughed lightly. “It’s okay, the scary waitress is gone now,” he remarked after a beat.

Sam scowled and narrowed his eyes. “Let’s just focus on the job right now, okay?”

“Sure thing,” Dean replied. He leaned back in his chair, and held up his glass when the waitress returned with a pitcher of iced tea.

Sam did not even look up when the waitress set a glass down in front of him. He waited until Dean finished with the sugar, and then started to add sugar to his own glass. He poured the sugar without paying attention to how much he was adding, as he tried to refocus.

“Do you have enough sugar there, Sam?” Dean asked.

“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Sam replied setting down the sugar.

“Dude, you’re going to have to get your head back in the game,” Dean observed. “You can’t let the distractions here cause you to lose focus.”

Sam looked at Dean guiltily. Were they really having this reversal of roles? “Sorry, I’m just not comfortable here. I…I’ll try.”

“Do or do not, there is no try,” Dean intoned.

Sam shook his head at the Star War’s quote. “Whatever, Dean,” he replied.

“I think it’s pretty straight forward,” Dean replied snapping back to business. “We simply have to find out what’s causing the poltergeist to attack, and where it originated from, then salt, burn and we’re done.” He smiled at the waitress when she set their plates of food on the table. He completely ignored the strange look on her face at over-hearing their conversation.

“I’m still not convinced,” Sam replied. “Events appearing as poltergeists can also be caused by telekinetic individuals. There is a theory that sometimes these events are caused by those individuals, typically woman between the ages of nineteen and twenty-five, who are suffering from emotional stress. Laurie definitely fits the profile. She’s recently dealt with her father’s stroke, and she is now managing the entire resort. That has to be stressful.”

“Why are you trying to debunk our case after everything we’ve seen, Scully?” Dean queried. “You and I both know there are such things as ghosts.”

“We can’t rule out a theory simply because it isn’t supernatural enough,” Sam defended. He took another bite of his sandwich. It was delicious.

“You’re right,” Dean agreed. He shoved several french fries into his mouth, and washed it down with a swig of iced tea.

“I am?” Sam asked, genuinely surprised Dean had capitulated so easily.

“Yeah, you are. I say we go back to the room, try to figure out who this angry spirit was, and why the attacks are escalating. Or, we figure out who or what else may be causing this to happen,” Dean suggested.

“I agree,” Sam replied quickly. “If it gets us back to the privacy of the suite, I’m all for it.”

Dean shook his head. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s go,” he said. He held out the electronic key when the waitress walked by, and she snagged it from his hand.

When the waitress returned the key, Dean stood up and grabbed his towel. Sam was already walking ahead of him, and Dean snickered. Despite the way Sam carried the laptop in front of him, he did not have anything to hide. Sam’s boxers were still on.

Dean entered the suite right behind Sam, and headed straight for his bedroom. He tore into his duffel bag, and slipped on a pair of boxers and a t-shirt. He thought about it briefly, and put on a pair of jeans as well. Belatedly, he remembered he had left a pair of boxers down in the locker room, but he was not about to go back for it right now. Dean padded on the plush cream-colored carpet in his bare feet back out into the dining room area.

A few minutes later, a nearly fully dressed Sam joined Dean in the dining room. He set the laptop down on the dining room table, and booted it up. Sam sat down on one of the wooden chairs, and wiggled his toes while he waited for the computer.

Sam looked over at Dean, and noticed he had pulled out the weapons stash and was taking inventory of their arsenal. He realized it was not only necessary, but busy work. Sam knew Dean had already done this very job several times during their four weeks of down time. While he appreciated the fact Dean was doing something to keep him occupied, Sam could not help but wonder if it was a habit born from years of waiting for their dad to return from a hunt.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

Sam waited for Dean to make eye contact with him, and when it did not happen, he tried again. “I’m going to research the deaths in this area, but I’m also going to pursue the other possibility.”

Dean did look up this time. “Sam, Laurie is handling the stress just fine. She seems exactly like she did three years ago. In fact, if anything, she’s a little surer of herself, a little more outgoing. Which is really saying something, because Laurie is not one I would ever call shy,” Dean argued.

“It doesn’t have to be Laurie. It could even be Jim, or someone who works here,” Sam replied. “I’ll start with the deaths though, because it does seem like the most logical explanation.”

“You do that,” Dean agreed. He watched Sam as he started researching the poltergeist. Sam always wore such a look of intense concentration when his brain was busy analyzing every aspect of a situation. It made Dean want to tease him, just to make him react. Deciding better of it, Dean went back to the weapons stash. He was certain something needed cleaning.

“Huh,” Sam puffed. His eyes scanned the computer monitor for several moments until finally Dean’s patience ran out.

“What?” Dean asked. Sam looked up at him expectantly. Realizing Sam was not aware he had spoken out loud, Dean prompted, “You said, ‘huh.’’’

“Oh, it’s Blues Weekend at the resort,” Sam explained. “They are going to have a live Blues band here tomorrow.”

Dean enjoyed Blues music, but he could only feign interest in cleaning the weapons for so long, then he would have to find something else to occupy his attention, and that rarely ended well. “Sounds like you’re getting pretty far on that research,” Dean observed.

“I can switch places with you, if you like,” Sam offered. He waited for a response from Dean, and dared him with a look, to cross the line again.

“Nah, I’ll leave it for you,” Dean replied in a seemingly magnanimous gesture. “I wouldn’t want to deprive you of something you enjoy.”

“You’re all heart,” Sam responded, his face already back in the laptop.

“That’s me,” Dean agreed. “In fact, if you play your cards right, I’ll let you interview the pretty girls down by the pool next time.”

“Yeah, sure,” Sam replied by rote. He was not really listening to Dean anymore, and Dean knew it.

“Remember the time we played tiddlywinks with the Thundercats?” Dean joked.

“Uh-huh,” Sam replied without looking up.

“Cheetara was a real hottie, wasn’t she?” Dean asked with a grin.

“Yeah, she really kind of was, wasn’t she?” Sam responded frowning at the laptop screen.

Dean chuckled lightly and decided to really have some fun with his brother, “I think you should be my personal slave for a week.”

Sam looked up at Dean from behind the computer. “Nice try,” he replied with a grin.

Dean laughed and moved back to the weapons’ bag. He would have to find something else to amuse himself with for awhile. Unfortunately, the time spent cooped up in motels while Sam recovered had left Dean with an even shorter tolerance level for boredom.

Deciding to give Sam a little space, Dean dragged the bag over to the living room sofa. He would be close enough to offer input, but far enough away that his relentless fidgeting would not distract Sam. He spread out a cleaning rag on the coffee table in front of him. Disassembling his gun, Dean took out the magazine, and removed the slide and the barrel.

Dean grabbed the soiled toothbrush from inside the bag. It was one of Sam’s old toothbrushes that Dean had absconded as a joke. He dipped the toothbrush in cleaning solvent, picked up the barrel, and started to scrub it. While Dean worked, his mind took him back to their previous hunt.

Dean pulled himself out of the freshly dug grave. Rain pelted him from above with a vengeance. He wiped rain water out of his eyes, and searched for the salt. Spying it quickly, he sprinkled it generously on the body, and reached the kerosene. He could see Sam in the distance, returning from the Impala with what Dean assumed was the amulet dangling from his fingers. That’s when he saw it, the lightening fast shadow that morphed into a flesh-eating, ghoul-like creature the moment before it hit Sam. Teeth gnashing, and claws ripping, it had Sam on the ground before Dean could offer a warning shout.

“Sammy!”

Dean was pushed forcibly from the memory with a small gasp. He looked over at his brother, and reassured himself that Sam was fine. The clacking of the keyboard had started again in earnest. Dean knew Sam was okay, that things had worked themselves out despite the fact they had almost gone very, very wrong.

Attaching a cleaning patch to the correct rod, and applying more cleaning solvent, Dean slid the rod slowly through the barrel. He concentrated on the task at hand, willing himself to stay in the present time. He was focused so intently that when Sam did call out to him, he did not hear it.

“Dean,” Sam said. “I found a record of one death at the resort.” When the news of a find that would validate Dean’s belief was not commented upon, Sam looked up from the laptop. “Dean!” Sam called a little more loudly.

Dean startled almost imperceptibly. “What?” he asked.

“I found a record of one death at the resort,” Sam repeated.

Dean placed the barrel on the table and walked over to Sam. Standing behind him, and leaning forward, Dean read the article over Sam’s shoulder.

Local Man Dies in Freak Accident

Patrick Lancaster, aged thirty-seven died in a freakish accident at the Sunnyvale Naturalist Spirit Renewal and Spa off Edgewood Highway. Patrick was a resort member for fifteen years, and according to his family, had never experienced any difficulties at the resort.

Last Wednesday, Mr. Lancaster was on the 16th hole on the spa’s extensive golf course, when his cart presumably hit a rock, and he was ejected from the golf cart. Dr. Michael Stewart reported Mr. Lancaster died when his head impacted with the railing on the decorative bridge crossing the water hazard.

Mr. Lancaster was pronounced dead on the scene and taken to Filbercast Mortuary on Highland Street. Memorial Services will be held at St. Mary’s Catholic Church on Saturday at 3 p.m.

Patrick Lancaster is survived by his son, Charles (Chuck) Lancaster, and his daughter, Jane Strong. See pictures on page 7.

Dean looked up at Sam and said, “Looks like we need to pay a visit to the Lancaster’s.”

The telltale squeak of the Impala’s doors announced the arrival of the Winchester brothers at 424 Hibbard Street, home of Charles Lancaster. The small white cottage was neat and tidy, save for a rambling wildflower garden out front.

Two garden gnomes were hiding among the flowers. One wore a red hat, with blue suspenders and carried a shovel. The other wore a red hat, with green suspenders and pushed a wheelbarrow also filled with wildflowers. Dean eyed them warily as he approached the cottage door. The door sported a large, brass knocker and Dean could not help but wonder when he had slipped back in time without realizing it.

Sam banged the brass knocker several times on the heavy wooden door. He listened carefully for footsteps on the inside indicating someone was coming to the door, but he could not hear anything.

“Can I help you boys?” a man called. Dean recognized him from the obituary article as Charles Lancaster. He appeared at the side of the house wearing grass-stained jeans and carrying a nasty pair of garden shears.

“Yeah, I’m Dean. Sam here and I work at the Filbercast Mortuary. I hate to bug you, but there’s a chance there was a mix-up and your father’s remains were exchanged with a twenty-seven year old teacher from Monterey. If we could get your permission to exhume the body, we could clear this up,” Dean fabricated.

Sam tried to keep the look of shock off his face. Where did Dean come up with these cover stories, anyway? At the look of surprised anger on Charles’ face, Sam quickly added, “It’s just a small chance. Our computer system was hacked into and we can’t verify our records. If you can give us the location of your father’s burial site, we can take a DNA sample with minimal disturbance of the actual grave.”

Charles was still frowning, but he no longer looked angry. “Your records have serious information holes,” he stated.

“We understand,” Sam agreed. “That’s why we are trying to clear this up as soon as possible.”

“No, I mean, my father was cremated,” Charles replied. “Half of his ashes were interred at the Westdale Cemetery.”

“What happened to the other half?” Dean asked, flicking his eyes to Sam and only partially hiding his half-smirk.

“We scattered them in his flower garden,” Charles replied, gesturing towards the wildflowers. Dean’s eyes once again strayed to the ceramic garden gnomes whose red hats were visible even from this distance.

“Thank you, Mr. Lancaster,” Sam replied. “We’re sorry to have disturbed you.” Sam turned to leave and looked back at Dean when he did not follow behind him. Dean was still gazing out into the garden at something. “Dean!” Sam whispered harshly, emphasizing his words with a head jerk. “Let’s go.”

Dean snapped himself from his stupor and followed Sam back to the waiting Impala. Both brothers slipped into their traditional seats, and shut the doors nearly simultaneously. Sam looked over at Dean questioningly when he did not start the car for several long moments, but instead stared out at the wildflower garden. Dean shook his head, started the Impala and eased her out onto the road.

“What?” he asked when he finally noticed Sam staring at him.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Sam replied. “What’s with the thousand yard stare?”

“Seeping farting homes,” Dean mumbled under his breath.

Sam wrinkled his face, and rubbed his hand along his forehead in confusion. “What?”

“What, what?” Dean asked not taking his eyes off the road.

“I didn’t catch what you said,” Sam explained. “Why were you staring at the Lancaster’s flower garden?”

“I wasn’t,” Dean denied. At Sam’s look of disbelief he added, “I said I was looking at the creepy garden gnomes.”

“Dean,” Sam started in his patient, teaching tone. “Some people believe garden gnomes are a representation of mythical beings of a legendary race endowed with exceptional vision and heightened human sensitivities. Their task is to provide assistance to all living things. In fact, gnomes symbolize integrity, honesty, and hard work. It is said they bring good luck.”

Dean refrained from rolling his eyes. Sam’s ability to pull obscure, odd facts out of the thin air was a constant source of amazement to him. “I told you, you’d watched enough of the History Channel,” Dean snarked. “And I think Patrick may disagree with you on the luck thing. I guess we struck out on the Lancaster theory.”

“Not necessarily,” Sam disagreed. “We’ve seen spirits return even after cremation of the body.”

“That was a replay haunting,” Dean explained. “Not a poltergeist. No way, I’m not buying it.”

“Okay,” Sam conceded. Dean was the consummate hunter of the supernatural, and Sam yielded to his expertise. “Where do we go from here?”

“Back to your other theory?” Dean asked.

“It may not be easy to figure out who is causing it,” Sam replied. “And that’s only if it is the reason. We should keep a look out for anything unusual.”

“That kind of goes without saying, Sam,” Dean replied with a small laugh. “Odd is your middle name.”

“My name? Why isn’t it your middle name?” Sam asked.

“Because mine is Handsome,” Dean quipped.

“It certainly isn’t Humble,” Sam grumbled turning away from Dean. He rolled down the window and enjoyed the warm spring air despite the teasing laugh of his older brother.

Dean led the way into the suite followed closely by Sam. He stopped short of opening the door when he heard faint sounds coming from inside the room. Pulling out his gun, Dean slowly opened the door, and found Laurie inside dancing to a quietly playing pop song he did not recognize. She was once again unloading a cart, and placing food plates on the table. Dean frowned in disapproval. He liked Laurie, he really did. But, she was being presumptuous of his space, and more importantly the space he shared with Sam. It did not matter who they were, Dean did not like anyone intruding on the circle of safety, that despite everything, he tried to keep around his brother.

Sam was grinning when Dean glanced over at him. Dean was not certain if Laurie’s behavior or his amused Sam. Deciding it did not matter either way he slapped Sam on the chest and gave him a look that expertly communicated, ‘What the hell?’

Sam shrugged his shoulders in response, and mouthed something that looked suspiciously like, ‘She’s your girlfriend.”

Dean scowled, and without giving it another thought snapped, “Laurie, what the hell are you doing in here?” It did not occur to Dean for a moment that they were staying here due to her hospitality.

Laurie looked up from her task, her face contorted in confusion. “What’s wrong?” she asked nonplused.

“What are you doing in here?” Dean asked slowly, gesturing with his gun around the room. “You can’t just pop in here whenever you get the urge,” he said.

“Dean,” Sam interjected softly.

“As a matter of fact, I can,” Laurie replied. “This is my father’s resort, and you are staying here for free. That means I can enter this room if I feel I need to.” Laurie’s voice continued to rise, and she moved closer to Dean as she spoke.

Dean’s eyes hardened and he retorted, “That can be fixed. Sam, get your gear, we’re leaving.”

“Dean,” Sam tried again, a little more loudly this time.

“What’s the matter with you?” Laurie asked her green eyes sparking. “This was supposed to be a surprise dinner, and you’re making a Federal case out of it. I don’t remember you being this touchy before.”

Laurie’s eyes flicked from Dean to Sam, and she put the pieces together in an instant. She smiled slightly. Dean really was protective of Sam. “Look, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “You’re right, and I’ll catch you later tonight.” She made quick work of pushing the cart out into the hall. “I really am sorry,” she said again with a small smile. Laurie stood in the doorway for several moments in anticipation.

“Dean,” Sam prompted giving his brother the evil eye.

Dean did not utter a word, but he did give Laurie a small wave of his gun before shutting the door. Dean jammed his gun back into the waistband of his jeans, and walked over to the table. He dished up a plate of food without really paying a lot of attention to the presentation or the product, and flopped down on the sofa in the living room area.

Resting his feet on the coffee table, and balancing his plate of food on his lap, Dean grabbed the remote, and turned on the television. When Sam did not join him, he looked over and found Sam standing by the table staring at him. “What?” Dean asked.

“Dude, that was rude,” Sam replied, scooping up a heaping spoonful of red potatoes. “Why’d you get so angry, anyway?”

“She was in our room,” Dean said as if that explained it all.

“Dean, she knows what we do,” Sam said. “It’s not as if she found the salt and wondered if we were trying to cure meat in here. What’s the big deal?”

“Sam, what if she is the cause of the attacks? We can’t let our guard down simply because we know her. It could put the case at risk,” Dean insisted.

And in between Dean’s words, Sam read the message. “Maybe later, while I’m doing some more research, you should explain that to her,” Sam suggested taking a seat next to Dean.

Dean shrugged his shoulders noncommittally, and turned back to the television. Sometimes Sam’s perceptiveness took him places he really did not want to go. Flipping quickly through the stations, Dean came across the opening sequence for the ‘Rockford Files.’ He turned up the volume, and leaned back into the sofa cushions. He was in for the long-haul.

“Hi, Jim, it’s Jaime at the police impound. They picked up your car again. Lately, they’ve been driving it more than you have.”

Sam heard the distinctive opening riff for the ‘Rockford Files’ and smiled. He remembered sitting with Dean, just like this, and watching reruns of the show while the waited for their dad to return from a hunt. Dean used to do an impersonation of Jim Rockford that was hilarious, at least to an eight-year old, Sammy.

Sammy was snuggled up close to Dean in the one large armchair of the motel room. Playing on a grainy black and white television was the ever-popular, ‘Rockford Files.’ Sammy knew he should be in bed, but Dean could not resist the gritty detective show.

Jim pulled out his investigator’s license and the sheriff said, “L.A. city limits are back there about 400 miles.”

“Uh, this license was issued in Sacramento, it’s good all over the state,” Jim retorted.

Sammy looked up at his brother. Dean was very respectful to the adults he felt deserved respect, but he could see why his brother liked Jim Rockford. He was a smart aleck too. Sammy snuggled in closer to Dean, and before the show was over, he was asleep.

“Come on, Sammy, time for bed,” Dean said, rousting his younger sibling. “Show’s over.”

“Dean, do it Rockford-style,” Sammy requested, rubbing his sleepy eyes.

“Nah, just get to bed,” Dean argued. “It’s late.”

“Come on, Dean, please,” Sammy begged.

Dean rolled his eyes, but obliged his little brother. “Rocky, this is an original Nelson, he’s a primitive,” Dean quoted, reaching over and tickling Sammy. When the laughter died down, Dean stated. “Okay, kiddo, it really is time for bed.”

“Okay, Dean.”

Sam was snapped from his reverie when Dean shouted, “Oh come on, that’s so obvious!”

Sam shook his head, and smiled. Dean had the right combination of charm, bullshit detector, and analytical skills to be a police officer or private detective. It did not surprise Sam in the least that he gravitated towards shows like this, or pieced together the clues long before the protagonist. What did surprise him at times was how emotionally involved his, no-chick-flick-moments, brother seemed to get with the fictional characters.

As the closing credits ran on the show, Dean turned off the television and looked over at Sam. Sam was still looking towards the television and smiling. “What are you smiling about?” Dean asked. “You’re creeping me out.”

“Have you noticed lately, how easily you are freaked out?” Sam asked. “First, harmless garden gnomes, and then your innocent little brother. It’s kind of sad really.”

Dean gave Sam a gentle shove. “It’s not my little brother that creeps me out,” Dean mildly protested. “It’s the grinning. Makes me think you are plotting over there.”

“Who says I’m not?” Sam asked, his face the picture of innocence. “I’m sure I owe you for something.”

“Me?” Dean asked, leaning further into the sofa. “I’m a great big brother.”

“That doesn’t preclude you from being a jerk sometimes,” Sam teased, turning to face Dean. “In fact, I do believe I still owe you for the time you put hot sauce in my soda.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, that was awesome,” he said reminiscing. He sat there for a moment, and then slapped Sam lightly on the leg before standing. “Okay, back to work.”

“Now would be a good time for you to go and talk to Laurie,” Sam suggested, standing up. He walked over to the table, and started to gather the left-over food. There was definitely enough food for three people. Laurie must have been planning on joining them. Sam hoped she had been able to eat something.

“I think I will,” Dean replied. He was starting to feel a little guilty for throwing Laurie out of the room. “I’ll be back in an hour.”

“You sure?” Sam asked. He gathered up the plates, and stopped at the door trying to juggle the dishes and open the door.

Dean opened the door for Sam. “I’m sure,” he replied. “I’m going talk to her, smooth out the ruffled feathers, and try to figure out where her head is. I may be able to tell if anything about her is different. I was, uh, a little distracted before.”

“I’ll bet,” Sam responded. “I’ll be here. I’m going to dig a little deeper, see if I can find anything unusual that may have happened here in the past.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Dean replied. “Stay out of trouble,” he admonished, tongue in cheek.

“Because I’m the one who finds trouble,” Sam replied sarcastically. “Go.”

“Going,” Dean replied ducking out the door.

Sam returned to the table, and pulled out the laptop for the third time today. He knew the answer was here, it had to be. The question was where exactly was it?

Dean rapped on the door to Laurie’s apartment. He could hear her moving around in the apartment before she opened the door. “Dean,” Laurie said with smile. “I was hoping you’d come around.” She moved closer to Dean.

“Laurie,” Dean replied slightly exasperated. “I’m here to explain what happened.”

“Come on in,” Laurie replied stepping to the side and gesturing Dean inside. She followed Dean back into the apartment and stopped at the wet bar. “Do you want a drink?”

“No, Sam and I will be out hunting later,” Dean replied taking a seat on the cream-colored leather sofa. “Laurie, about earlier…” Dean began.

“You don’t like surprises. You don’t like someone in your personal space. You aren’t comfortable with intimacy, and most importantly, you don’t like someone surprising you in your personal space…because you don’t like anyone putting Sam in danger. I’m not a danger to Sam,” Laurie interrupted. She joined Dean on the sofa, and put her hand on his knee. “Why would you think I am?”

“It’s not that exactly,” Dean replied meeting her eyes. “We are in the middle of a hunt, and I don’t like surprises when all I’m concerned about right now is watching Sam’s back and getting through this hunt with minimal risk.”

“I understand,” Laurie replied. “After all, saving Sam is very important to you, isn’t it?”

“It is the most important thing to me,” Dean replied turning away from Laurie. He felt Laurie get up from the sofa, and he heard ice cubes clinking into a glass. Listening to liquid pouring into the glass, Dean connected the dots. “Why would you say, ‘saving Sam?’” Dean asked turning towards Laurie. She was standing at the wet bar, her back to Dean. “Why not, protecting Sam, or keeping Sam safe? Why would you choose the word, ‘saving?’”

Laurie took a drink of the whiskey, her eyes growing dark. “You know something, Dean?” she asked sweetly, turning around to face him. “You and your brother really are a pain in the ass.”

Dean was up and off the sofa in a fraction of a second. He knew the gun in his waistband was loaded with silver, but it would be completely ineffectual against the present threat. “Dean, Dean, Dean,” Laurie scolded. “When are you going to learn?”

With a sweeping gesture of her arm, Dean was thrown up against the wall. The force of the impact knocked several pictures off the wall, and a vase off the nearby table. Dean landed on the ground amidst a sea of broken glass.

“Son of a…” Dean groaned, attempting to stand. Without warning he was once again flung into the air. With flailing arms and legs Dean hit another wall falling in a boneless heap on the ground accompanied by several more pictures and an oil painting.

Glass crunched under Laurie’s shoes as she walked over and stood next to Dean. She smiled broadly and said, “I told you, I’m not a danger to Sam - at least not yet.” With demon increased strength, Laurie hefted Dean off the ground, and over her shoulder into a fireman’s carry. She steadied herself under his additional weight, and swatted his butt for good measure. “Somebody’s been keeping himself in good shape. It’s going to be fun being you, Dean.”

Laurie staggered as she maneuvered Dean into the master bedroom. Releasing her hold on Dean, he fell to the bed, arms, legs and neck flopping about like an Andy Rag Doll. “You have been a fun toy,” Laurie remarked running a finger down Dean’s cheek. “I’m almost sorry to see this end.”

Dean’s eyes fluttered open, and he groaned. Looking up into Laurie’s now dark, black eyes Dean said, “Ah man, talk about a chick that can’t take no for an answer.” Laurie leaned onto Dean’s chest, and he moaned as the added pressure on his chest forced air out of his lungs. His head was throbbing, and he could feel the bruises forming already. “Look, whoever you are, as fun as all this has been, I think I’m going to get going now,” Dean said struggling to sit up.

Laurie pushed harder on his chest. “Uh, uh, uh,” Laurie chirped. “We’re going to play for awhile first. I figured the best way to get to you, would be through Sam, and you’ve proven that twice over since you’ve been here.”

“Meg?” Dean asked narrowing his eyes.

“Not quite, big guy,” Laurie replied with a smile. “But, we’re keeping it in the family, just like you.” Laurie cocked her head to the side as if she was listening to something. “I’m going to have to ask you to stay here for just a little bit,” she apologized. “I’ll be back soon.”

Without further adieu, Laurie pulled back her fist and connected with Dean’s head. He was once more rendered unconscious, and Laurie stood up to find something to secure him to the bed. She searched through her dresser drawers and came up empty save several scarves and two belts. “When in Rome,” she remarked with a shrug.

Sam sat on a bamboo bench in the Zen garden. He looked around the garden, waiting. The sky was dark, and the crescent moon offered very little light. Sam shivered in the cold, night air. He jiggled his leg in anticipation, and stood up for a better look.

He spotted Laurie walking towards him with a blind-folded Dean in front of her. Sam saw Dean stumble as she pushed him roughly forward. Laurie caught Dean by the scruff of his collar, and jerked him backwards.

“Hey!” Sam shouted. “What is it you want?”

“Retribution,” Laurie replied her eyes turning black. She pulled Dean’s gun out from behind Dean.

Sam felt the white-hot heat of the bullet as it entered his chest. Bright white flashes of light appeared in his vision, and he fell to his knees.

Laurie loomed closer, her dark eyes conveying anger, as the white flashes increased, and then they were gone.

Sam lifted his head from the table with a gasp. “Dean,” Sam whispered grabbing his head. “God,” he moaned. He breathed deeply for several minutes trying to manage the pain. Finally, he lifted his head, and asked of the empty room, “What the hell?”

“No, I won’t,” Laurie said as she swirled the blood in the silver chalice. “Yes, I understand.” Laurie’s face contorted in dismay. She would obey the letter of the law set forth, but not necessarily the intent. She picked up Dean’s cell phone when the words, ‘Sam’s cell’ scrolled across the caller ID.

“Dean?! Where are you?”

“This isn’t Dean,” Laurie replied. “But I do know where he is.”

“Oh, ah Laurie, so he’s there? I thought, well, I’m not interrupting anything, am I?”

“No, not yet anyway,” Laurie said with a small laugh. “Say, we’ll be done here in about an hour. Do you want to meet up with us, and we can grab a couple drinks?”

“Sure. I’m out on a walk right now. How about you guys meet me at the Zen garden?”

“Sounds perfect,” Laurie replied. “See you in an hour.”

“Bye.”

“Good bye, Sam,” Laurie replied hitting the end button. She strode back into the master bedroom, only to find Dean was awake once again. He had one hand free, and was working on the other.

“You know, I grow tired of this game,” Laurie remarked. Dean froze, his head snapping around towards her voice despite the blindfold across his eyes.

“That’s funny, considering how much you seem to like to play,” Dean quipped. He was wriggling his left hand, trying to free it from the scarf. The soft material was deceptively strong, and it cut into his wrist. “That’s what you’ve been doing this whole time, isn’t it? Playing a game, toying with us?”

“I haven’t been here the whole time,” Laurie admitted with a smirk. “But, long enough.” She grabbed Dean’s free hand, and bent his hand back until joints cracked. She held his hand there, bent at the awkward angle, leaned in closer, and kissed him on the lips.

“I’m not really into the whole bondage thing,” Dean said gritting his teeth. “Well, that and the demon possession are a real turn off.”

Laurie sat back again, debating on the best course of action. She decided Dean did not need to be untied when she possessed him. The soul inhabiting the meat-sack Laurie would let Dean free when she was released from her internal prison. Without another word, Laurie placed her hand on Dean’s chest and prepared to enter his body.

“Aaaagggghhhh!” Dean yelled. It felt as if a thousand pinpricks of electricity were pressing into his skin trying to push through. His head exploded in a cataclysmic chain of events. His hearing failed him first, as blood rushed to his ears, his heart pounding in his head. His sight was next, no longer able to see even the pink flowers on the silk scarf covering his eyes. Blood pumped through his veins sending a loud, echoing chorus rushing through his head, and then the world went blissfully silent.

Laurie screamed in unison, and sat back as Dean’s body relaxed in unconsciousness. That was odd. She had never failed to gain possession of a body before. “Well isn’t this a nasty little dilemma,” she remarked patting Dean on the cheek. “Stay here and gain possession, or meet our dear Sammy at the Zen garden? He called you know. I plan to kill your brother, Dean, despite what HE says.”

Sam sat on the bamboo bench waiting for Dean and Laurie to appear. He looked around the garden, waiting. The sky was dark and the crescent moon offered very little light. Sam squinted into the darkness. He needed to wait until Laurie and Dean appeared along the path. It was imperative to draw Laurie’s attention to him and away from Dean for his plan to work. He would have only one shot at changing the events in his vision.

Sam jiggled his leg in nervous anticipation and stood up for a closer look. He spotted Laurie walking along the path with a blindfolded Dean in front of her. Sam saw Dean stumble as she pushed him roughly forward. Laurie caught Dean by the scruff of the collar, and jerked him backwards. Sam waited until he was certain Laurie had seen him before he ducked quickly behind a low growing Japanese lace leaf maple tree.

Laurie whirled towards the movement and moved Dean in between the tree and her as a shield. “Sam, come out, come out, wherever you are,” Laurie called.

Dean remained quiet. It was not the gun shoved into the small of his back that held his tongue. It was the knowledge that any words spoken by him would only serve to distract Sam from the threat that Laurie posed.

“Sam, Dean is going to lose this game you are playing,” Laurie remarked. To emphasize her point, Laurie jammed the gun harder into Dean’s back as she pulled him backwards by the collar.

Dean suppressed a groan as the gun dug into his spine. He listened closely for any indication of action, but he did not hear any movement from his little brother. Dean smiled. Sam was a well-trained hunter and it was times like this that drove that point home.

“Sam!” Laurie shouted, anger rising in her voice. “Sam, I swear I’m going to shoot your brother if you don’t show yourself now!”

And that was the moment Dean had been waiting for. He felt, before he heard, movement to his left. As Laurie turned to face the unknown assailant, her grip on Dean loosened. Dean twisted sharply and fell to the ground, his bound hands trapped beneath him. He scissored his feet hoping to swipe Laurie’s legs. He heard Sam impact with Laurie, knocking them both to the ground.

Dean remained silent as the scuffle ensued, while he struggled to remove the scarf around his wrists. He had successfully loosened the bindings when he was hauled abruptly to his feet by two hands on the front of his shirt. The blindfold was ripped from his eyes, and Dean blinked to clear his vision.

“Dean, come on,” Sam urged, gripping Dean firmly by one arm and pulling him along the path.

Dean stumbled, but maintained his footing as he attempted to navigate the narrow pathway with blurry eyes and under the cover of darkness. “Sam, Laurie’s possessed,” Dean said finally.

“I know,” Sam replied not stopping, but pulling Dean faster. “That’s why we have to get Laurie to the…” Sam started. He was stopped short by the sight of Laurie on the path in front of them.

Dean managed to undo the knots in the scarf binding his wrists. He started forward towards Laurie, but Sam’s hand on his arm stopped him. He glanced at Sam, who shook his head almost imperceptibly.

Laurie edged closer to the brothers. “Sam, she has my gun,” Dean murmured.

“Not anymore,” Sam replied quietly out of the corner of his mouth. Laurie took four more steps towards the brothers, and Sam visibly relaxed his posture. Dean chanced a small, side-long glance at Sam. He noticed Sam was slowly reaching into his jacket.

“What did you hope to accomplish, Sam?” Laurie asked with a smile. “I may not have a gun anymore, but you aren’t going anywhere.”

“Neither are you,” Sam replied nodding his head towards the ground.

Dean looked down at the sand. It was difficult to tell in the dark, but there appeared to be a design etched in the sand. He bent down closer and peered into the darkness. It was a devil’s trap.

Laurie tilted her head and glared at the Winchesters. “Saaam,” she chastised. “What did you do?”

Sam pulled the book out from his jacket and began to recite in Latin. Laurie’s head twisted to one side, and then violently back to the other. Sam continued to recite the exorcism in a steady cadence as he fingered a string of rosary beads.

Laurie’s head twisted to the side once more, and then snapped forward to face Sam. “I can tell you what the demon has in store for you. If you send me back, you’ll never find out until it is too late.”

Sam continued to recite the exorcism rite without breaking the rhythm. Dean shifted next to Sam. He rubbed his wrists absent-mindedly, and continued to watch Sam out of the corner of his eye. “If you know what it is HE has planned for you, you may be able to save Dean,” Laurie tried again.

Sam faltered in his recitation, and Dean glanced over at him. “Don’t listen to her, Sammy,” Dean stated firmly. “You finish this.”

“Yeah, Sammy,” Laurie mocked. “Dean doesn’t care what happens to him as long as you stay safe.” Sam paused.

“Sam, demons lie,” Dean reminded him needlessly.

“They can also tell the truth,” Sam replied quietly, “If the truth works to their advantage.”

“If it were the truth,” Dean countered.

“It is the truth,” Laurie asserted.

“She’s just messing with your head,” Dean protested. “You have to trust me a little, kiddo.” Sam looked over at Dean, his hazel eyes filled with an emotion Dean could not quite read. Sam turned his attention back to the book and finished the exorcism rite.

Laurie threw back her head in a roaring yell as a dark, black cloud erupted from her open mouth. She collapsed to the ground. Sam and Dean ran to Laurie’s side, and Dean knelt down beside her in the sand. Laurie’s green eyes snapped open, and she looked at Sam and then back to Dean. “Dean, what happened?” she asked as Dean helped her stand.

“You had a little run in with a demon,” Dean replied steadying her.

“What?” she asked glancing from Dean to Sam.

Sam placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You were possessed by a demon,” he said simply. Laurie bowed her head, darting her eyes back and forth, trying to make sense of the ghost memories running wild through her mind.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Dean asked.

Laurie gripped Dean’s arm, turned to look at him, and replied, “You were leaving to tell Sam the truth about the resort.”

“That was almost twenty-four hours ago,” Dean said. He covered Laurie’s hand with his own.

“I, I feel…” Laurie stuttered.

“Confused? Ashamed? Weak?” Sam asked. He lowered his eyes and dropped his voice. “Violated?”

“Yeah,” Laurie affirmed giving Sam an appraising look.

Dean’s attention snapped from Laurie to Sam. They had never really explored how Sam felt after his possession. Dean felt a rush of guilt, but quickly brushed it to the side. First, take care of Laurie and Sam. He could examine his own feelings later if he chose to. “For the record, Sam, Bobby’s little charm worked,” Dean said offering his brother what peace of mind he could.

Sam raised his eyebrow. He understood the implication of Dean’s statement. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Dean reassured him. “Let’s get out of here.” Dean gently steering Laurie down the path knowing Sam would follow.

As the trio entered the main hallway, crashing and banging sounds could be heard emanating from the kitchen. Laurie pulled out the master key, and opened the door. Pots, pans, cutlery and food were flying projectiles in the immense kitchen. Sam narrowly avoided a fast moving pineapple that hit the wall beside him with a resounding thud.

“Any ideas?” Dean asked turning to Sam.

“As a matter of fact, I think I did find the answer,” Sam replied.

Dean shot him an incredulous look. “You’re kidding, right? Two mysteries in one night? You are shooting for an extra Scooby snack, aren’t you?”

Sam snorted, and turned to Laurie. “Does Paul have an office close to the kitchen, or a locking cabinet in here?”

“I thought you didn’t believe Paul was behind this?” Dean asked.

“I don’t,” Sam replied. “Well, not exactly anyway.”

Laurie sighed. “Sam, Dean may be able to follow the carrot, but I’m lost. What exactly do you think is going on here?”

“Cursed object,” Sam and Dean replied simultaneously.

Laurie cocked her head to the side. “You really can follow the carrot,” she remarked.

“I can follow Sam,” Dean replied with a smile.

“Laurie?” Sam asked, prodding her to remember he was waiting for an answer to his original question.

“Oh yeah, right,” Laurie replied. “Paul has an office attached to the kitchen. Follow me.”

Sam followed directly behind Laurie, and Dean slowly brought up the rear, favoring his right side. Apparently, the double slam up against a wall had not done him any favors. Laurie opened Paul’s office with the master key, and Sam pushed past her into the room. “Wait here,” Dean said as he followed Sam inside.

Sam scanned the office, looking for any sign of the cursed object. Paul had told Sam he had been in Europe recently on a sabbatical. Sam theorized Paul had picked up a souvenir on his trip, not realizing he had picked up a curse along the way.

“Sam,” Dean said. Sam lifted his head, and turned towards Dean. “I think I found it.” Dean held up a letter opener with a carved wooden handle. He turned it so Sam could see the carvings. “Looks like you were right.”

“You doubted me?” Sam asked in mock offense, channeling his older brother.

Dean tossed him a grin, and carefully wrapped the letter opener in the scarf that had been tied around his wrists earlier. “We’ll need to burn this as soon as possible,” he said to Sam. Sam nodded his head in agreement.

“I, uh, I think I’m going to turn in for the night. This has all been a walk just a little too far on the wild side for me,” Laurie stated.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” Sam asked, his eyes conveying concern.

“Yeah, in fact, I think I’d prefer it,” Laurie replied. “Lock up when you’re done in here. I’m going to call the cleaning crew and ask them to attend to the kitchen. That gives you about ten minutes.”

“Speaking of cleaning, you have a mess in your living room. Quite a bit of broken glass, so be careful,” Dean said, waving her out. Laurie gave Dean an odd look, but waved back as she left.

“Broken glass?” Sam asked. “Something you want to tell me?”

“No,” Dean replied shaking his head slightly.

“You got your butt kicked by a demon possessed girl, didn’t you?” Sam asked with a smile in his voice.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Dean replied slapping Sam on the chest. “Let’s go.” Sam nodded, and pulled the office door shut behind them.

Fifteen minutes later, the boys stood around a large open pit fire in the common area. No one else was outside, but that did not surprise Sam. Not too many people would be out wandering around at three in the morning. That seemed to be the norm only for the Winchester family.

As the fire consumed the cursed letter opener, Sam recited yet another passage from the ancient text. When he finished, both brothers stood for several moments watching the fire dance and flicker. “Dean,” Sam said finally.

“Yeah?” Dean replied not moving his gaze from the flame.

“Next time you want to get laid, try to pick a girl who’s not so buckets o’ crazy,” Sam quipped throwing Dean’s own words back at him.

Dean’s eyes flicked to Sam, and he slugged him lightly in the arm. The brothers stood watching the flame for several more long moments until the flames died down, and the sky started to lighten before heading back to their suite.

“Got it!” Dean called. He dove for the ball, and slid several feet in the sand on his torso. He connected solidly with the ball, and it shot back over the net. Dean jumped to his feet and tried to wipe the sand off his sweaty chest, but most of it stayed firmly in place.

“Don’t even bother,” Gretchen laughed. “It’s not coming off.”

Dean shot her a grin. “Guess maybe you’ll have to help me,” he replied.

“That could be arranged,” Gretchen replied with a mischievous glint in her eye.

“Heads up!” a shapely blonde in the back shouted. “Ball!”

“Got it!” Dean called again, as he spiked the ball over the net.

“Game!” the blonde announced. “Woo hoo!”

Gretchen placed her hand on Dean’s arm. “After that – man, I need a drink.”

“I’ll get us one,” Dean replied with a smile. “Meet me up by the poolside café.”

“I will. Just give me a minute to let Gail know,” Gretchen replied. She smiled at Dean’s retreating form.

“Did you just say after that man – you need a drink?” the blonde asked with a smirk.

“Shut up, Gail,” Gretchen snapped without any real heat. “Not that I would mind having a piece of that man,” she added with a smile.

Gail wrapped her arm around Gretchen’s neck and said, “I have a feeling, that’s not a problem.”

“Sam, thank you for helping me clean up,” Laurie said. “I just couldn’t face it last night.”

“It isn’t a problem. I’m happy to help,” Sam replied setting the broom and dust pan back into the utility closet.

“And, it kept you in your clothes,” Laurie replied knowingly.

Sam blushed and replied, “That too.” He took a seat on the sofa, and stretched his long legs out in front of him. When Laurie entered his field of vision holding out a cold bottle of beer, Sam snagged it from her grasp. “Thanks,” he said taking a swig.

Laurie sat down next to Sam on the sofa, and curled her legs up underneath her. “I can’t tell you how much it means to me to have someone with whom I can talk out my feelings surrounding the possession,” Laurie said.

Sam peeled the wrapper from around the neck of his bottle. “Same here,” he replied.

“You seem very introspective,” Laurie observed. “Any particular reason?”

“Just wondering how, or if, this fits in with the demon’s plans for me, for my destiny,” Sam replied.

“Your destiny?” Laurie asked with a frown.

Sam nodded and replied, “For me, and others like me. The demon has plans for us.”

“No offense, Sam,” Laurie replied. “But that’s a bit of bullshit, isn’t it?”

“Why would you say that?” Sam asked tightly. “You don’t know anything about it.”

“You’re right, I don’t,” Laurie admitted. “But I do know something about destiny.” When Sam did not respond, she continued. “Destiny is not a matter of chance; it is a matter of choice.”

“I’m not sure that I’ll have a choice,” Sam replied returning her gaze.

“Don’t turn those puppy dog eyes on me,” Laurie said playfully. “I’m not Dean.” Sam did not respond other than a soft huffing noise. He returned to peeling the label off the neck of his beer bottle in small, thin strips. Laurie softened her tone further, “Sam, you always have a choice.”

“I sure hope so,” Sam replied. A comfortable silence hung in the air for several moments.

“To kicking their butts back to hell,” Laurie announced, holding up her bottle.

Sam looked up at her, surprised by her enthusiastic tone. He held up his bottle, and clinked it against hers. “To kicking their butts back to hell,” he repeated with a small smile. Sam tilted the bottle, and drank deeply.

“Are you and Dean leaving soon?” Laurie asked.

Sam gave a small laugh, but did not look up at Laurie. “If Dean had his way, we’d probably live here, but I think we’ll be leaving tomorrow,” Sam replied.

Laurie nodded and remarked, “I thought as much. Last time he left within a couple of hours after getting rid of our poltergeist problem. I’m actually a little surprised you’re still here.”

Sam met Laurie’s gaze and replied, “He’s staying for us. Making sure we’re both okay, hoping we’ll talk to each other instead of him about our feelings,” Sam laughed softly. “Hoping he’ll get lucky again.”

Laurie’s melodic laugh joined Sam’s. “He probably will,” she remarked. “If he doesn’t find someone down at the beach, I won’t turn him down.”

Sam winced and shook his head. “You know, I really don’t need to hear things like that,” he admitted painfully. Laurie simply smiled and took a drink of her beer.

“Oh, did I tell you,” Gretchen said enthusiastically. “We figured out what was going on in our room.”

“Yeah?” Dean asked over the top of his beer.

Gretchen nodded. “It’s kind of embarrassing actually,” she admitted. “Gail borrowed my earrings and put them away in the wrong spot.”

“That happens,” Dean replied although he had no real idea. He and Sam didn’t borrow things from each other. What little personal space they had, they clung to.

“It does,” Gretchen agreed. “The strange part is the feeling of being watched. We caught a peeping Tom outside our window last night!”

Dean’s look of consternation caused Gretchen to chuckle. “Why would anyone peep through a window to see things he could see any time around here?” he asked.

“Don’t ask me why he has voyeuristic tendencies,” Gretchen replied. “But he admitted he was doing it.”

Dean shook his head. “Okay, that I would not have guessed,” he said.

Gretchen rubbed at the bruises on Dean’s wrists. “Dare I ask how you got these, and the ones on your back?” she asked.

“Not the way you are thinking,” Dean replied setting down his beer. He stared at Gretchen, hoping she would drop it.

“So ah, Dean,” Gretchen fumbled, releasing Dean’s wrist. “What are your plans for this evening?”

“I don’t have any yet,” Dean smirked. “Think you can do something about that?”

“Definitely,” Gretchen replied leaning forward and resting her chin in her hands.

Sam relaxed into the tub; the foaming lavender scented bubbles tickled his nose, as he lowered himself deeper into the spa to take full advantage of the jet spray. This was the first time he had been able to relax, and he was hoping no one would interrupt him.

Bracing his feet on the far side of the tub, Sam bent his knees slightly and slid further into the water. The water felt fantastic, and Sam’s muscles turned gelatinous as he slipped into a light doze.

“Sam!” Dean called as he entered the suite. “Sammy!” When he received no response from his little brother, Dean pulled out his cell phone and dialed. One ring. Two. Three. Dean tilted his head, listening. He thought he could hear the ring in his phone, and a quieter, muffled echo coming from Sam’s bedroom.

Dean walked closer to the back bedroom that Sam inhabited. Four rings. Five. Dean cautiously opened the door, and poked his head inside. Six rings. “You’ve reached the voicemail of Sam Winchester. If you need help, leave a message.”

Dean disconnected the call and entered Sam’s bedroom. “What the hell?” he muttered taking in his surroundings. The king size bed in the center of the room was dwarfed by the sheer size of the room. There was a small sitting area, where Sam’s laptop rested on top of a marble table. The French doors on the far side led to an outdoor patio with lounge chairs and a view of the lake. Sam had been holding out on him.

Sam’s jeans, shirt, and cell phone were lying on the bed in a rumpled pile. Dean assumed his socks and boxers were lying around as well, but he was not about to search for them. “Sam!” Dean shouted loudly, his voice echoing in the large room.

Sounds of water splashing could be heard coming from the bathroom. Dean opened the bathroom door and walked in. Sam was lounging in the tub, but he looked up when he heard the door open. “Dude, personal space,” Sam protested reaching for a nearby towel.

Dean spun around, and faced the door. “Sam, was that bubble bath?” Dean asked.

“What do you want, Dean?” Sam asked exasperatedly with a sigh.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Sammy,” Dean answered. “Huge bed, a tub…”

“A king-sized bed and a Jacuzzi tub,” Sam corrected. “The shower has nearly 360 degrees of lateral spray too.”

“Oh man, are you in for it,” Dean replied.

“Hey, I offered to flip you for it, remember?” Sam replied. “You didn’t figure it out when I never used your shower?”

“It’s not my problem if you want to go around smelling like dirty socks,” Dean defended.

“Did you need something?” Sam prompted.

“Oh, yeah, I was going to let you know I may not be back until late tonight,” Dean replied.

“Laurie?” Sam asked.

“Laurie? No, the pool girl, Gretchen,” Dean replied. “You think Laurie would want to…”

“She indicated as much,” Sam interrupted.

“Now I do have a problem,” Dean moaned. “Who do you think I should…”

“I don’t,” Sam interrupted again. “I don’t think anything about it, nor do I want to. What I want is for you to leave and do whatever it is you are going to do. I don’t care who, where or when.”

“Okay, little brother,” Dean replied with an amused laugh. He knocked once on the frame of the door on his way out. “I’m outta here.”

“See ya later,” Sam replied sinking back down into the tub.

Dean stood at the reception desk talking to Laurie while Sam loaded the duffel bags into the Impala. Sam took a small amount of satisfaction in knowing he was now in better physical health than Dean was, and the coddling was officially at an end. He returned to the reception area just in time to hear the tail end of Dean and Laurie’s conversation.

“Just take it,” Laurie insisted holding out a wad of bills to Dean. “It’s only a couple thousand dollars.”

“You and I have a different opinion of the word, only,” Dean countered. “Again, I’ll remind you, we do what we do to help people.”

“And again, I’ll remind you, it isn’t much and you can use it to help people,” Laurie replied. “Besides, you are willing to hustle pool, use credit card scams, and charm your way through life. You may as well accept money for your work when you can.”

"Well, there's two things, I uh, won’t do for money,” Dean quoted in his best Rockford voice.

“Oh yeah?” Laurie replied. “What’s that?”

I won't kill for it, and I won't marry for it. Other than that, I'm open to about anything," Dean finished with a smirk.

“Get out of here, Winchester,” Laurie laughed. “And take the puppy with you.”

Sam put on his best offended face at Laurie’s comment. “Don’t encourage him,” Sam moaned.

“You remember what I told you,” Laurie replied, pointing her finger at Sam.

“I will,” Sam replied.

Dean looked from Laurie and Sam. He had missed something important here; he was just not sure what it was. “Come on, Sam. Let’s go,” he said.

“I’m right behind you,” Sam assured him.

“And you,” Dean said giving Laurie a quick peck on the lips. “You hang on to our numbers this time.”

“I will,” Laurie replied giving the brothers a small wave. “I guess you never know when you will need ghost busters.”

Dean returned Laurie’s wave, and the brothers left the Sunnyvale Naturalist Spirit Renewal and Spa.

A/N:  The challenge issued:
While my friend Shar was reading the first chapter of, ‘An Old Haunt for a New Hunt,’ she said, “Dean’s guilt is my guilt.” “What?” I asked, busily typing away.
“I suggested that Dean needed to hustle some pool, and because of that, Sam got hurt. Now, Dean’s guilt is my guilt,” Shar complained.
I laughed and replied, “Well, if you feel that badly about it, you can pick their next hunt.”
“Really?”
“Sure,” I replied. “Whatever you want. You name it, and I’ll write around it.”
At this point Shar giggled evilly (evilly I tell you!). “A poltergeist,” she said.
“Okay,” I replied only half listening.
“At a nudist colony,” she added.
“What?!” I exclaimed.
And thus, Sam and I learned the same valuable lesson. Be careful what you wish (ask) for.
Thanks for coming along on the ride!