Crossroad Blues

Dean placed his bags on one of the old beds amid the screech of metal springs. He could have brought in just his clothes and left the weapons in the trunk of the impala – in fact, Sam said something along the same lines. But, just as he told Sam, there was no way in Hell he was going to sleep in the same house as a voodoo queen and her overactive guard dog without at least one gun.

Dean didn’t know who he should be more wary of – Isadora or Rascal. Sure Isadora could sick some sort of beastie on the brothers, but they knew how to combat just about everything supernatural. And if they didn’t know, Bobby did. Rascal would be more apt to slit their throats as soon as he, Dean, lets his guard down. Dean didn’t like the feeling he got in his gut when he thought of the women, especially Isadora, so he decided to sleep with one eye open. After all, the brothers have stayed mostly whole this long by trusting their instincts.

There was a knock on the door, jarring Dean from his thoughts in an ugly way. Sparing a glance at the closed bathroom door behind which Sam was showering, he slid his glock from the bag to the small of his back. Another impatient knock and he was crossing the room to the door. He opened it to see Rascal leaning against door frame. Her face was inches from his chest, and he stepped back a little before Little Dean decided to get happy. She certainly was sexy as hell.

“Yeah?” He asked, voice a little hoarse. She smirked as if she knew the inappropriate thoughts running through his head. Like she knew he was thinking he wanted to pin her against the wall and take her right there, in front of God and everyone.

“The madam wanted to know how you like your room.” She shrugged, shaking those voluptuous breasts. He tore his eyes from her chest to her lips, and finally, her eyes.

“It’s fine.” He said, causing her to nod.

“Great,” She pushed herself off the door frame and took a step back. “I’m taking a job, I should be back tomorrow. Do everything Isadora says, okay? She’s trying to help you.”

“Right.” He said noncommittally. He didn’t think it wise to tell her his suspicions about the voodoo queen – why would she take him seriously? It really went without saying that he was taking Isadora’s help with a grain of salt, so he didn’t say it.

“Okay.” There was a moment where Rascal stared up at Dean and he stared right back. She opened her mouth like she wanted to say more, then thought better of it. Instead, she turned and started to take a step forward when Dean spoke.

“Does she have any clue what to do about my problem?” Rascal wanted to lie, to say that everything would be alright and Isadora would save the day yet again. Truth was, she, Rascal, didn’t know how much Isadora could do. And Dean seemed to be the kind of guy who appreciated truth.

“I don’t know. She doesn’t tell me everything.” Dean’s face fell slightly but he covered it up well. Just a moment of the raw emotion and his expression took up the familiar lines of his scandalous smirk. Rascal had the shocking revelation that the smile, while dropping panties no doubt, may just be a mask.

She wondered what had happened in his life to make the man before her so cautious. She wasn’t as schooled at hiding her emotions, because while she suffered tragedy at a young age, she had a great childhood. Her Maw had seen to that. This man had the air of a boy who had been hurt often at the hands of someone he trusted.

Dean watched the emotions flow over Rascal’s face as she stared at him, apparently lost in thought. Her features twisted from each feeling as they passed; a soft sadness, harsh pity, and fierce consideration. He realized with a shock that she wasn’t just sexy – she was incredibly beautiful. He didn’t want to have sex with her. He wanted to take her in his arms and let her kisses warm the icy part that resided in his heart since his father died. No matter what he told Sam – he wasn’t over it. He would never be over it.

“Do you want to come with me?” Rascal’s question took him by surprise, and he let it show on his face. She looked down sheepishly and continued, “I was just thinking, Isadora will need some time to talk to people, and you don’t strike me as the type of guy who likes to sit around and wait for stuff to happen.” She was babbling now and she hated it. She forced her shoulders to square and looked him in the eye as she waited for his answer.

“Uh, yeah. Let me get my stuff.” He said quickly.

“I’ll meet you in the living room in fifteen minutes.” She said, not hiding the smile blossoming on her face.

“Sounds good.” He shut the door and walked back to the bed where his weapons lie. He didn’t know why he was suddenly interested in spending time with Rascal. Wasn’t he just thinking that she’d slit his throat without a second thought? But he couldn’t make himself believe it now. Maybe he was tired of not trusting anybody. Maybe he wanted more than this live was going to give him. It was a little too late for the latter, but he was going to try to make the final year of his life mean something more. And the first step was to try to trust Rascal and her friend Isadora.

Now, how is he going to tell Sammy?