Status: More interesting than it sounds...

What Can We Say, We're Classy Girls

004: Aoife ~ The Winchester Brothers

Five years later.

Aoife fiddled with her favorite curved knife, her fingers gently sliding over the blade as she rode next to Riley in her vintage Mustang GT. They had caught wind of a freaky yellow-eyed demon that had been wreaking havoc in areas nearby. Riley glanced over, her eyebrow raised with a skeptical expression on her face. "What?" Aoife muttered, reaching for her small makeup kit concealed in the dash.
Riley sighed, shaking her head, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know how you feel about the makeup." Aoife rolled her eyes, "'I don't understand why you wear it.' I wear it because...well...I can." She shrugged it off.

Riley let out a sigh that shook from a soft chuckle. Aoife painted her lips with her regular devil red, and her eyelids black and a soft violet, highlighted with black liner. "So," She started, as she applied the eye shadow, "How do we nail this sucker?"
"Psh, you act like I even know." Riley's lips pursed in a playfully snarky way as her eyes turned to her friend for a brief moment.
Aoife rolled her eyes, laughing softly as she glanced out the front window. "Rilez, do you see this?" She pointed at another vintage muscle car, a Chevy Impala sitting in the drive way of the house that just so happened to be their destination.
"Yeah." Riley's face hardened over into the hard mask she used whenever they were hunting.
"You don't think-"
"I don't know, Ef, but I'm not taking the chance." Riley's eyes hardened to a stony blue as she glared out the windshield.
"Do you really think a demon would drive an impala?"
"It'd be a waste of such a gorgeous car." There were hints of longing in her voice as she eyed the car. Aoife chuckled softly as Riley pulled the car up to the curb. Both of them stepped of the car once Aoife was done fluffing her perfect hair.

Aoife glided forward, the seemingly empty house left a resonating feeling in the pits of her stomach that told her that something was about to change their lives. She and Riley glided forward silently, keeping their eyes peeled for anything out of the ordinary. The house seemed as though it had been recently been evacuated. Signs of life littered the short walk up the gravel walkway. Riley strut ahead of her quietly, allowing Aoife to watch her back as they approached the door.
The generically white front door was wide open. The half-screened door was slightly ajar, making Aoife's stomach churn uncomfortably. Riley gently pushed open the screen door, sending a wave of nausea over Aoife. She knew that something evil—a demon—had touched this house. Aoife shivered as her sister stepped through the door frame, giving her the feeling that they weren't alone.
"We aren't alone." Aoife's soft voice floated forward, but her breath caught in her throat when she heard the sharp creak of a floor board across the house.
"Split up?" Riley's deep blue eyes held hers long enough for a brief nod.

Aoife walked through the door, her fist gripping the handle of her glock. She stood at Riley's side for a mere second before her sister left her side. Aoife's eyes scanned the room looking for any sort of shift in atmosphere or movement. Her feet felt forward across the creaky wooden floors cautiously, her heart pounding softly. Her toes caught an uneven floor board as she reached a door frame at the opposite end of the foyer. She stumbled forward, managing to grip onto a table. This action dislodged a cheap flower vase and sent it hurtling to the floor.
"Shit—sisto!" Aoife's hand flew forward, only just stopping the vase before it hit the floor. "Crap." Her heart stuttered painfully as she reached for the vase suspended in the air.
"How did you do that?" A tiny scream-like squeak slipped through her lips and the vase crashed to the floor. Aoife jumped backwards, unable to stop a shard of glass from cutting her palm deeply. She glanced up, her eyes meeting a pair of hazel green orbs. A relatively, tall attractive man with auburn hair and pout lips stared down at her suspiciously.

"Ef! Ef! Where are you!?" Riley's voice echoed from the other side of the house, her footsteps sounding in the opposite direction.
Aoife stared into the man's eyes, her heart pounding nervously. She didn't dare answer her friend. Her right hand tightly gripped the hilt of her trusty glock, and her left hand tightly clenched into a ball trying to stop the flow of blood from the gash on her hand. She grit her teeth and did her best to keep her head cleared and her thoughts away from the stinging pain in her hand. Her stomach churned, forcing the nausea forward.
"EF!" Riley's assertive voice was now layered with worry.

"I said, how did you do that?" The man put emphasis on every word. He pulled out a vintage colt pistol and aimed it at her.
"Dean—" An even taller man with long, dark brown hair froze beside the other. His green eyes were on Aoife after brushing over the colt. His eyes weren't nearly as untrusting as his partner's, but they were filled with deep caution.
"Where's the friend?" Dean's eyes didn't leave Aoife's.
"Across the house—is the colt really necessary?" Skepticism lightly powdered the taller one's tone.

"Ef!!!" Aoife's eyes flickered up as the tall, white-blonde haired girl slid into the room and stopped, her eyes on the vase. They traced her sister's frame, lightly lingering on her bleeding hand, only stopping once they reached the colt. Her glare was then aimed at Dean. "I suggest you aim that gun away from my sister."
"Is that a threat?" Dean's voice was layered with a hard edge as his glare moved to Riley.
"Easy Riley—" Aoife's heart thrummed hard as she awaited the inevitable fight awaiting them.
"No. Not until he drops the gun..." Riley's tone was just as stiff as Dean's.

Dean slowly moved forward his gun still held high. Riley stepped in front of Aoife, pulling her black-stained sickle from her belt. She held the knife to Dean's neck in the time that it took him to hold the gun to her forehead.
"Whoa, whoa now! Come on, Dean. Let's just talk this out." The taller one put his hands up in an attempt to soothe the situation. Aoife sighed, she knew her sister wouldn't give up that easily. She was stubborn and didn't trust very easily.
"Rilez, come on. It's not worth it." Aoife muttered softly, taking a quick step forward over the shattered vase on the ground.
"Yeah, why don't you put down your gun, Dean?" Riley sneered, her eyes narrowing.
"Why don't you drop the knife 'Riley'?" Dean barked sarcastically.
"What!? Don't believe that that's my name?" Riley's eyebrows shot up and her lips pursed.
"No I don't—" Aoife sighed.

"Damn it..." She muttered under her breath. She knew that there was only one way to end this. She turned to the taller man, pulling her Glock from its holster.
"Come on now, not us too." He put his hands out in front of him as she aimed her Glock up at his forehead. Her aim was at a much less of an advantage than Riley's. She was at least several heads shorter than him; therefore, she did not pose much of a threat.
"You'll be alright, Sammy. She's too short to shoot you in the head." A smirk was plastered on Dean's face, his eyes flickering to Sam's face. "At least defend yourself. Pull a gun or something, brother."
Aoife shot a glare at Dean and then decided that he was right. For a brief second, relief washed across Sam's face as it seemed that Aoife was dropping her gun, but it was short-lived as her aim pointed below the belt. "Tell your brother to drop his gun." She ordered softly.

"D-Dean, drop your gun." His eyes flickered to his brother nervously, almost as if they were afraid to lose sight on the Glock that was aimed at a very vital region.
"Back off it, Sam." Dean's eyes didn't leave the white-blonde haired girl's gaze. Aoife's hand didn't move, her aim unwavering.
"Dean. Drop your gun." His tone was slightly more urgent than before.
"Back off, Sam."
"Dean! Drop your gun!" Sam's voice was slightly raised, his mouth a nervous, thin line.
"Back off, Sam!" Dean raised his voice to match his brothers.
"Dean! Drop the damn gun!" Sam was now shouting, his eyes still nervously darting between his brother and the Glock in the short woman's hand.

"Sam—son of a—" He stopped the instant his eyes caught where Aoife was aiming. "Okay, okay..." His colt pulled away from Riley's forehead and raised it over his head in a surrendering position, "Come on now! He needs that."
"Put the gun away." Aoife ordered, her voice soft and polite.
"Alright, alright..." He placed the gun back into its place in his belt, "There, you happy? Now call off your she-witch over here." Riley's glare pierced Dean as her fist tightened around her knife.
"Rilez..." Aoife cautioned softly. A curt grunt was her only reply. "Put away your knife." Riley let out a protesting growl, but Aoife stood firm. "Riley..." This time, she obliged, placing it in its respective place in her belt.
"Well, now that that's over..." Dean sighed, looking at the two girls in front of him. "I'm Dean Winchester. This is my brother, Sam." He motioned to Sam, who was now standing beside him.
"I'm Aoife—" She ignored her sister's protests, "This is my soul sister, Riley. Nice to meet you." She smiled a dazzling smile. The kind that Riley always said made the boys swoon.

"Hi. Now that the introductions are out-of-the-way, I just want to know one thing." Riley nodded curtly, "How did you do that?" He pointed to the vase that still lay in shards on the floor. Riley's eyes held Aoife's with critical questions in her eyes. Aoife turned away from her sister, unable to tell her that she'd accidentally let Dean witness her magical ability.
♠ ♠ ♠
Heheh, this chapter took a bit. I was at a block, but it started flowing when Randa and I came up with the way they meet. We thought it was ingenious when we came up with it.
Sisto is Latin for "Stop". It is one of many spells that the girls—well mostly Aoife—will be using. They are both advanced enough in magic that they could say basic commands in English, but Aoife prefers to use Latin commands.