Title: Call Me Sam
Summary: Sam had never seen Dean run from a girl like that before.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Kripke owns all.
AN: Just some stupid little ficlette that popped into my head.
Sam sat at a table in the back of the bar, sipping on something that the waitress had sworn was a beer, but he wasn’t so sure. He had a few folders full of information that would probably prove to be important for the hunt that he and his brother were currently on, but was useless at the moment. Why? Because about fifteen minutes ago, Dean had abandoned him to go chat up some leggy brunette at the bar.
This wasn’t something new. Dean took his job seriously, but he could be easily distracted by girls who bust size was considerably larger than her I.Q.
Sam glanced up at his brother and the young woman he was speaking to. Well, if you could consider him whispering in her ear and her giggling talking. She nodded lightly. Dean then grabbed her hand and the disappeared into a more poorly lit part of the bar.
Thinking he had quiet some time before Dean would pry himself away from his ‘new friend’, Sam began reading through the police reports of the missing couples himself. He had just made it through the second file when he heard the wooden chair across from his scrap. Looking up, Sam was surprised to see Dean sitting across from him, pale-faced and with an interesting shade of pink lipstick smeared across his lips. Sam thought that maybe he should tell Dean about it.
Instead he asked, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Dean said, ducking his head as he grabbed a file. “So, what do we you think we got here? Ghosts? Curses? Ritual sacrifice?”
“I’m not sure yet,” Sam said. “None of the cases have much in common other than the couples all go missing within the same two week period every few years up around the bed and breakfast.”
“Come for the bed, stay and be the breakfast,” Dean said, flipping through a few pages.
The woman Dean had disappeared with a few minutes ago walked past their table. The look she gave Dean would have caused anyone else to vaporize into a small pile dust. Not Dean though. He didn’t even seem to notice her.
Sam watched her leave and caught the nearly inaudible ‘humph’ sound that she made.
Glancing back at his brother, Sam raised an eyebrow. Sure, he had seen plenty of girls pissed-off at his brother - sometimes he wondered if Dean had ever had a conversation with a woman that didn’t end up with a pissed-off female plotting his brother’s demise - but this time seemed a little different. The woman appeared annoyed and frustrated instead of just the regular angry. And Dean, well, he almost seemed…freaked.
“What?” Dean asked.
“Um…nothing,” Sam said. “It’s just…What happened?”
Sam nodded his head towards the leggy brunette who had resumed her position at the bar. She was already smiling at another guy a few stoles over. Yup, just Dean’s type.
“Nothing,” Dean said.
Sam blinked. “That’s what I mean. You both seem to be…you know. And you’re you, so it’s just weird to that you left her like that.”
“Dude, what? I'm some kind of man-whore? I can’t just decided that I’m not into some girl I meet at a bar?”
Sam stared at his brother. “No.”
Dean shrugged in that way that said ‘yeah, you’re right, but so what?’
“So what happened?” Sam asked.
Putting the file back onto the table, Dean took another sip from his beer. “Since when have you been interested in my love life?”
“I’m not,” Sam said. “I’m interested in the fact that my brother isn’t acting like himself and I want to know why?”
Dean sat there for a moment, twisting the bottle in his hands. “Your going to keep bitching at me about this until I tell you, aren’t you?”
Sam raised his eyebrows.
“Fine.” Drawing in a deep breath, Dean broke eye contact and suddenly seemed to find the beer bottle interesting. “She said…she said - caleam,” he said the last part in an unintelligible mutter.
“What?” Sam asked.
Dean pressed his lips. “She said…call me…Sam.”
A moment passed. Then two.
“So, missing couples?” Dean said, forcing a grin.