WARNING: Author Notes include rant about most recent episode so please be careful if you haven't seen the episode and you're not one of those naughty cheaters. I'm looking at YOU, Blueeyesgreen.

Part 2: Unexpected Encounters

Stopping at Sasha's other storage place just outside of Hershey, Pennsylvania was far less of an ordeal. Aside from Dean's incessant teasing upon learning that the name of the place was Red Top Self Storage, Dean also insisted that they stop in Hershey before leaving, if only because being anywhere near the town wafted the sweet smell of baking chocolate all around them.

Arriving in Sturbridge, Massachusetts was interesting, however, since their lead consisted mainly of demonic signs deciphered from Ash's old system—which they hadn't entirely figured out yet—and Sam's newfound demonic intuition.

"So these women are friends, live in the same neighborhood, and just happen to all be experiencing especially good luck lately, and you think they're witches." Dean droned all of that out while they were settling into their room. Just one. Dean had a feeling they might be getting an extra one come his birthday though.

"Three out of four have been having good luck," Sam corrected, immediately pulling out his laptop but leaving his duffle otherwise untouched on the floor, "Makes you wonder about the fourth one, doesn't it?"

Dean looked over at Sasha, who was scavenging for a change of clothes after having sported a stain since lunch when Dean made him laugh so hard he dropped a BBQ sauce covered fry onto his shirt.

But Sasha just shrugged in response to Dean's look, more willing to go along with Sam than Dean was.

"Actually, it doesn't make me wonder," Dean said, regardless of lack of backup, "It makes me think, oh what a nice coincidence, and seriously, Sammy, you better have more to go on than just that."

Sam settled himself back on his bed, flipping open his laptop and not even bothering to glance up at Dean as he spoke. "We know there's at least one demon in town and the only paranormal activity going on seems to center around these women. One of them is a demon and the others made some kind of deal to tap into its powers and cast those spells."

Ignoring any of his own unpacking, Dean walked the few steps to Sam's bed and leaned over the laptop. "Yeah," he said, skimming through Sam's notes, "Spells to do better at bake sales and give their husbands promotions. Whatever will we do? Evil soccer moms are taking over the world!"

A snort sounded from Sasha but Sam merely brushed Dean's satire away. "The severity of their spells could change at any time," he said, pulling his laptop unconsciously closer as if Dean's proximity might contaminate it, "And it's still a demon. I know it. I can…feel it."

"Like how you knew how to fix the Colt?" Sasha questioned.

"Yes," Sam answered without hesitation, "I just need to meet these women and I'll know which one is the demon. It's gotta be the one not benefitting from the perks. What would she need perks for if she's getting three souls out of the deal?"

Everything clicked into place with resounding resonance when Sam said that. It was often believed that witches acquired their powers by making pacts with devils. Natural witches weren't very common anymore. No wonder Sam was so obstinate and focused on this case. One demon trafficking in souls might know the identity of another, and if not then at least they could try out Dean's suggestion of mojoing the demon downstairs to look for the contract holder on their behalf.

That ought to get someone's attention.

"Alright," Dean conceded, sitting down on his and Sasha's bed facing Sam, "If all you need is to see these women then there's no point in pretending to be cops. So what's the plan, Samantha? Traveling salesmen?"

Sam paused a moment in his typing and glanced hesitantly over at Dean from beneath his lashes. "Actually…"

Dean plastered on his biggest, brightest smile, internally reminding himself to kill Sam for this later as a blonde woman answered the door. "Good evening, Ma'am," Dean said, "I'm Elder Markelli and this is Elder Davis. I don't suppose we could trouble you for just a few moments to discuss the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-say Saints?" Yeah, Dean was definitely going to kill Sam for this one.

"We're only asking your time for a few minutes, if that's all right," Sasha added beside him, smiling just as blindingly.

They were both in dress pants, button down shirts, and ties. Sam had even insisted they wear their non-leather jackets which had Dean freezing. When Dean had asked why Sam wouldn't be forced to experience the same embarrassment, his brother—failing miserably at hiding a grin—said, "Because Mormons usually only travel in pairs going door to door. Besides, this way we can check to make sure they're all together first."

Right.

"Oh," the woman at the door said, clearly startled as most people were when confronted with Mormons, Jehovah's Witnesses, and Avon ladies, "I'm sorry," she said with the fakest smile Dean had ever seen, "I'm entertaining right now." Almost immediately she started closing the door.

"We wouldn't want to bother you, of course," Sasha said quickly, stepping slightly ahead of Dean and batting his pretty blue eyes shamelessly, "But perhaps you could just let us speak briefly. Is your entertaining business or…" Sasha swept his eyes over the woman's body, "Pleasure?"

Dean tried not to groan. Personally, he thought Sasha was being too pushy, but the woman blushed a little under the heat of Sasha's gaze and faltered.

The incubus better not be wasting pheromones on this broad, Dean thought.

"Well," the woman said, "It's some neighbor friends of mine for our weekly book club."

"Wonderful," Sasha said, glancing back at Dean.

Inside Dean's coat pocket his cell phone was on speaker so Sam could hear them. Book Club sure sounded like 'coven meeting' to Dean.

Sasha looked back at the woman at the door and once again flashed his brilliant smile. He leaned in very close to her, speaking conspiratorially. "Please, Miss, you'd save us several trips around the neighborhood, and save your friends from having to deal with us again if you'd only let us speak to you women briefly. We sort of have to do this, you know. You'd really be helping us out." Sasha leaned back to smile at her again.

Show off. Dean really needed to learn how Sasha managed that kind of effortless seduction, because the woman blushed even deeper and stepped back to admit them into the house. "I suppose a few minutes wouldn't hurt anyone. Are you from a more liberal branch then?" she asked as she led them into the house.

"Why do you ask?" Sasha said.

"Well I'm no expert," the woman said, "But I didn't think your people allowed any drastic…changes to your appearances." Her eyes moved up to Sasha's too red hair.

"Oh…uhh…" Sasha's smile became strained. They should have planned for that.

Luckily, Dean was always quick on the uptake with things like this. "Just a bit of a prank gone wrong," he said, slapping Sasha on the back, "Elder Davis here teaches Sunday school back home. Kids will be kids, right?"

The woman laughed politely, nodding, and walked on ahead, leading them into the living room.

Sasha stopped Dean with a firm hand on his arm, whispering to him before they could follow after her.

"Do Mormons even have Sunday school?"

"How the hell should I know," Dean shrugged, "Worked, didn't it." He spoke down towards his jacket pocket then. "Show time, Sammy."

A few minutes later, Dean and Sasha had finished the polite pleasantries and small talk portion of their con, and Dean was starting to get anxious for Sammy to do his thing. Dean credited their success of not overstaying their welcome entirely to Sasha's charm. The incubus had a way of combining Dean's blatant flirting with Sam's genuine good-boy nature, and it had all four women wrapped around his finger.

Dean would resent that if he didn't kind of enjoy watching Sasha in his element.

Suddenly—and finally if Dean had any say in the matter—Sam came charging into the room playing the part of a burglar, wearing a ski mask and armed with the Colt. The women had already hidden away any evidence of their 'book club', so the only thing left was to wait and see if Sam actually spotted a demon. Dean and Sasha both had holy water if there were doubts, but if there was a demon then Sam would confront it. If there wasn't then the handsome Mormon boys got to play hero—the one part of the plan Dean kind of liked—ensuring the women would never be the wiser.

Dean felt no shame in secretly wishing this hunt would turn out to be a bust. Tackling Sammy to the ground would be so gratifying.

Then, like many unpredictable hunts, everything quickly moved into high-geared panic as Sam repositioned the Colt and shouted, "It's her!" indicating the woman with short black hair who Dean actually thought was kind of hot.

There was chaos and a lot of screaming—mainly because the other women were terrified of the strange man with a gun pointed at them—but the whole scene became a blur for Dean about the time the demon revealed her black eyes. She shot out a hand soon after and everyone other than her and Sam flew back towards the nearest walls, pinned.

This was a step above the other demons they had faced, but Dean took some comfort in Sam's powers for a change seeing as how Sammy was the only one capable of defending them right now.

Sam pulled off his ski mask, immediately demanding answers from the she-demon. She, unlike any of the other demons so far, was able to resist him at first, but not for long. This seemed to make her very irritated with Sam, but she admitted to having made deals with the other women, deals they seemed unaware of. That didn't make Dean feel all that much sympathy for them, but when Sam started ordering the demon further, he included their release in the terms.

"Let these women free from their deals and I will let you live."

The demon's black eyes shimmered in anger. She even looked scornfully at the Colt like it hardly concerned her, but she still backed down in the face of Sam's threats.

Everyone fell from being trapped against the wall and Dean's chest ached from the recent constriction. He was surprised the other women didn't immediately run for it.

"They're free," the she-demon snarled.

"Are you the keeper of the contracts?" Sam asked immediately, the Colt still squared at her head.

The demon laughed. "You think your powers would even slightly work on me if I were? I'm a private contractor. The demon you speak of may hold all of the contracts, and I do mean all, but they allow us underlings some autonomy. Unless of course it's a…" She cast her eyes over Dean, "Special case. Who knows, maybe I should thank you. I might be promoted now that the second in command is dead."

"But you know the demon that holds the contracts?" Sam pressed.

This time the demon frowned. "You seek something far more powerful than Azazel could have ever hoped to be and you think I know its true identity? Only one demon ever knew. It's chosen emissary—"

"The demon at the crossroads," Dean finished snidely, stepping forward and shaking off the aftereffects of being force pushed like a god damn pussy, "Yeah. We've heard that one. Send this bitch back to Hell, Sammy." Dean crossed to Sam and pat him on the back. Sasha came up beside them too. The women remained silently gaping.

A slow smirk pulled across Sam's face as he looked at the demon, showing true satisfaction in how the power was no longer only in the hands of the bad guys. "Well, if you don't know the answer," Sam said to her, "Maybe you can find out. Return to Hell and seek out the keeper of the contracts until you find them. Discover everything you can and report back to me. If you're found out…then tell the bastard we're looking for him. Them. Whatever. Understood?"

The demon said nothing, clearly too horrified by Sam's command.

"Go," Sam said with finality, and although reluctant, the demon obeyed and black smoke shot out of the host like they had seen so many times before.

"Think it'll work?" Dean asked as Sam lowered the Colt from being pointed at the frightened and disoriented woman left behind.

Sam shrugged. "I guess we'll find out."

"That was frickin' awesome," Sasha added, squeezing Sam's shoulder with a warm smile, "And the legions of Hell tremble in your wake!" he said in a mockingly deep and rumbling voice.

Dean had to give Sasha credit; the incubus had a much easier time making light of Sam's powers. Then again, Dean had to remind himself that Sasha had powers too. His ability to get Sam to smile, for example, even after the most horrific of events almost rivaled Dean's.

Almost.

When the trio had collected themselves a bit better, they noticed that the three spooked women had gathered around their recently possessed fourth member and were still gaping. Explaining the supernatural to civvies was one of Dean's most hated past times. Although, these were women were witches, so they deserved at least a stern talking to.

"Hey," Dean said, grabbing his brother's shoulder with one hand and patting Sam's chest with the other, "You ladies just got your asses saved. From a real live demon. Any of you feel like practicing this shit anymore?"

The woman that had been the demon's host still looked confused, but the others all fearfully shook their heads.

"Good. Coz if we catch any wind of witchcraft in this area again, you can bet we'll be back." Dean nodded in satisfaction and gave a gesture back towards the door to his companions. He was so ready to be out of here.

"Thank you," called the blonde woman meekly, "I had no idea the Mormon Church took care of things like this."

Sam and Sasha exchanged barely contained smiles but Dean just couldn't resist. He looked back at the women with the most serious expression possible and said, "All in a day's work, Ma'am."

They were less than a week to Dean's birthday and decided that they would hold up in Sturbridge at least until the day of, using the extra time to keep an eye on their supposedly reformed witches, research possible new hunts, and await the return of the she-demon. It made for a very anxious few days.

"I think I have something," Sasha said from the motel room table, staring expectantly at his laptop. There were still a couple days left until they planned to leave with no sign of any demons or witchcraft. "Might be some kind of demonic or cursed spot," Sasha explained as Sam and Dean gathered around him.

"Like a cold spot?" Dean questioned.

Sasha thought that over. "Maybe. Look," he said, pointing to the article on the screen, "After the curator of this historical building died, it was shut down. Closed up completely. There were reports of squatters after awhile but when the police caught them outside the building they were…" Sasha frowned, "It's hard to say what really happened to them. But they were incapable of speech, basic motor functions, everything. Almost like vegetables but they were all alert, awake…and pretty much hysterical. Sounds like more than a simple haunting."

Leaning closer to the screen, Sam's eyes swept over the article. "Maine, huh?" he finally said, "We're not too far really. Sounds worth checking out."

"After Dean's birthday though," Sasha said firmly, "The building is pretty well locked up now. It can wait a couple days. Besides, still no word from our contact downstairs," he said with a tap of his foot.

Well that was settled. Dean always liked knowing they had things lined up. He got too restless without a new hunt on the horizon.

Before heading out to grab some dinner that night, Sasha suddenly asked if he could give Dean one of his presents early, to which Sam said, "Do I need to leave the room?"

Sasha laughed and pulled out a small package from his duffle wrapped in newspaper. Sam smiled and nodded then, apparently knowing about this particular gift.

No dissention rose from Dean. It was rare that his birthday passed where he got even one present, let alone getting one with the promise of more later.

"It's from both of us," Sasha said, handing Dean the gift.

Dean grinned at his package and tore into it immediately. He was a simple man really, and wouldn't normally ask for or have need of many things, but when he revealed his present beneath the newspaper, his grin stretched wider. "It's one of those adaptor things, right?" he said, looking at the white cassette tape attached to a cord.

"Whatever ways we can continue moving you into the 21st century, Dean," Sam teased, "You can hook it up to your phone, pop the tape into the Impala's player, and play any of your MP3s."

"You know," Sasha chimed in, "For when you feel like some variety instead of going all the way through one band's tape. Wouldn't want to mar the original stereo by putting in a new one with a CD player, though, right? Couldn't call her a '67 Impala then." Sasha grinned.

Oh yeah. Dean knew he loved Sasha for a reason. "Sweet."

Of course Dean had to try the adaptor out on their way to dinner. He had a lot of Aerosmith on his phone ever since their jukebox prank on Jo and he had to admit that he enjoyed being able to jump to whatever song he wanted and hear it play instantly over his baby's speakers. "What's your favorite Aerosmith song, Sammy?" Dean smirked, clicking a selection on his phone, "Bet I can guess."

(That, that)

Dude looks like a lady

Dean mouthed along with exaggerated bobs of his head, grinning cheekily in response to Sam's eye roll. He looked up at the mirror to see Sasha in the back. "Sasha?"

The incubus raised a red eyebrow and said, "Do I actually get to say my answer or are you just going to start playing Pink?"

That got Dean laughing. "How'd you know?" he said, clicking the next song his thumb had been hovering over.

Pink

It's my new obsession

Pink

It's not even a question

"Dean," Sam said in exasperation, "Could you watch the road maybe? I knew giving you a new toy was a bad idea."

"Here," Sasha reached up between the seats to grab Dean's phone from him, smartly hesitating before actually completing the act, "If I may, oh king of the stereo."

Well Dean couldn't exactly say no to that. He allowed Sasha to take his phone and then watched out of the corner of his eye as Sasha searched through his meager playlist. A phone didn't hold as much as an actual Ipod after all.

"You do have it," Sasha said triumphantly, and as he clicked his song of choice it began to play throughout the Impala, "This is my favorite Aerosmith song."

Dean smiled to himself as he listened to the opening. He had always liked this song too.

Beside him, however, Sam had a very concerned look on his face.

"Why do I know this?" he said warily.

Gotta find a way
Yeah I can't wait another day
Ain't nothin' gonna change
if we stay 'round here

And then Sam just looked panicked. "No. Please no."

"You don't like this song?" Sasha asked, hurt.

Dean had to laugh. He remembered.

And apparently Sam did too.

"This song came out my senior year of high school and I swear Dean played it every time I rode with him just to drive me crazy."

"That's not true," Dean said, smiling over at his brother, "I also like the song."

Sam wasn't amused. "You thought it was an old song of theirs you'd never heard before and insisted on extolling the merits of classic rock to me for months."

"So? That's a good lesson."

After a few more minutes of bickering, Dean pulled into a nice, quiet looking diner, pleased with his choice even more when they stepped out of the car and the smell of non-fast food burgers and fries filled the air.

"So, just out of curiosity…" Dean said as they made for the door, bucking Sasha with his elbow and giving Sam a long glance, "What else have ya got planned for me come Thursday?" If Dean had a normal nine to five job then Thursday might be a bad day for a birthday, but thankfully a hunter's schedule left a lot of room for flexibility.

Sasha just grinned while Sam looked far too pleased with himself. "Wouldn't you like to know?" he said, stealing the favored line for his own.

Great, Dean thought. Even he would readily admit that that made him worry.

The next couple days went by smoothly and a little boring really, centering mainly around where they got their food, random checks of the Sturbridge witches, and trying to pass the time as they waited for some sign of the she-demon. They played cards, fooled around on the internet—sometimes for other possible cases besides Maine and sometimes for fun—and even watched a few movies. One thing Dean had to say about Super 8 motels were that at least he didn't have to look at quite the usual horrific décor.

Come Thursday Dean was done, whether the other two idiots were ready to go or not. They were leaving for Maine Friday morning and that was that. If the demon Sam sent to Hell finally came back with some kind of report then she would just have to go looking for them. Dean was starting to wonder if his idea had been for naught anyway. Surely, the demon would have found out something by now.

"What time did Sam say?" Sasha asked, stepping out of the bathroom, damp and barely covered by the motel towel.

Dean was stealing songs off Sasha's laptop and putting them onto his phone. He looked up, unable to keep his eyes from wandering over all that visible, wet, and frankly lickable skin. "Huh? Uhh…five-thirty, I think. Said if we waited any later I'd complain about starving to death. Just how far is this place we're going?"

"Nice try," Sasha grinned, "But you're not getting any hints from me." Sasha walked over to the bed and started searching out something to wear for the night. Dean had to bite his tongue to keep from suggesting that Sasha wear that long sleeved black T-shirt the incubus looked so damn good in. Sasha must have read his mind though, because that was exactly the shirt Sasha grabbed along with one of his more presentable looking pairs of jeans.

"Aw, baby, you getting all pretty for me?" Dean said over his shoulder, batting his lashes with extreme exaggeration.

Sasha merely smirked back at Dean, still gathering his change of clothes, before suddenly starting to look around the room as if he had just realized something. "How long has Sam been gone?" he asked.

"Ten minutes," Dean said with a shrug, "Said he wanted to go over some more things about Maine before we headed out, so he went down to the little coffee lounge place for some alone time. My guess is he's plotting something."

A very naughty expression creeped onto Sasha's face and he plopped his clothing back onto the bed. "Maybe he is…" Sasha said, casting his gaze once more around the room, "We are alone, after all." There wasn't even the slightest hesitation in Sasha's strides as he sauntered up to Dean and turned the entire chair towards him with one firm pull.

"Whoa. Dude," Dean said with his hands held up defensively and his back pressing into the chair, "You are not suggesting Sammy set things up for us to have sex. That's just creepy."

"Maybe he did. Maybe he didn't. Doesn't mean we shouldn't take the opportunity when it's given to us." Sasha crawled forward onto Dean's lap without invitation, the towel hitching enough to leave very little to the imagination as he settled in. He was still a little damp, enough that Dean could feel wetness seeping into his clothing.

Sasha took Dean's held up hands and pushed them out of the way, giving him more access to scoot forward and for the very naked parts of him beneath the towel to press firmly against Dean through his jeans.

Dean couldn't help gasping. That was hot. Especially with how the towel stayed on Sasha's hips, hiding their intimate connection now like a tease.

"Damn you're heavy," Dean breathed through a smile, gasping again when Sasha bucked his hips forward.

"Shut up," the incubus smirked back. Then he was leaning in, his legs wrapping around the chair, his chest slick and smooth as Dean pressed his palms there and slid his hands along Sasha's skin to his back, pulling them tightly together. It made Dean so thankful his wounds were healed enough now for them to do that again.

Whenever Dean heard people talking crap about how love makes every kiss feel like the first time, Dean just thought they were nuts. Five months since his and Sasha's first kiss, and over one month since their first fuck, Dean was certain there had to be some truth to that. Not that he was ready to turn in his balls for a Hopeless Romantic plaque any time soon.

Maybe it was the way Sasha made Dean's whole mouth tingle, that skilled tongue caressing so deeply, lips soft and so demanding but somehow giving too. No one kissed this good, so completely and in need that Dean felt himself drawn right into the incubus like a willing victim. Dean almost laughed to think that he kind of was. Offering his friend a ready meal every time the mood struck.

Dean's hands moved up to Sasha's shoulder blades and down again, feeling the dip of Sasha's lower back, and then straying lower right into the folds of the towel to caress down the smooth bare skin of Sasha's backside. Dean stayed only long enough to tug Sasha close before sliding his hands back up again, to which the incubus whined against Dean's lips.

"You're getting me all wet," Dean said breathily, their lips hovering so close when they finally pulled apart that even the barest movement from either of them bumped their lips together again.

Staring hazy and heated into Dean's eyes, Sasha's true blue glowed, honestly glowed with all that bright color, and the incubus licked his lips. Dean felt his lips get a taste of that tongue too, they were still so close. "Wet, huh?" Sasha prompted, "Let me be the judge of that."

Dean's brain was moving in slow motion with having a pretty much naked incubus in his lap, so it took him a moment to realize what Sasha was implying. The nimble fingers that slid down Dean's T-shirt to the button of his jeans made it pretty clear though. Sasha scooted back to give his hands more room, pulling the button free and drawing down the zipper. Even that small favor was a great relief for Dean after being trapped by denim. He had grown hard almost the instant Sasha started crawling onto his lap.

Covered so beautifully in that soft skin, Sasha's hand reached into Dean's jeans, beneath the elastic of his new shorts—replaced shortly after leaving the Roadhouse since Dean could only handle going commando for so long—and wrapped his long fingers around flesh. Dean instinctively shifted into the touch, both their eyes staring deeply into each others like they didn't dare look away. Then Sasha was pulling Dean out and the cool air made him hiss.

"Mmmm…" Dean hummed low in his throat, almost mimicking Sasha's usual purrs.

Sasha licked his lips again and this time he allowed for no error of feeling as he struck out with his tongue again, teasing a wet circle around Dean's lips in turn. At the same time Sasha's thumb passed over the found wetness at Dean's tip, making Dean harden even further. Sasha was heavy sitting on Dean's thighs, but Dean kind of liked it, the weight of it, the firm, eminent presence.

"Gotta be illegal…somewhere…for a man to have hands that soft," Dean managed to say within Sasha's hold, his head wishing it could fall back against something but the chair was too short.

Sasha pressed his forehead against Dean's and he grinned, their eyes so close together Dean could only see blue. "Bet I can think of something better." Fiercely, Sasha stole a kiss in a single lunge, almost causing the chair to tip backwards in his urgency. Suddenly, Sasha's hand was wonderfully wet and coating Dean's length with firm strokes. That feeling of all over wetness made Dean shiver.

Sasha's legs were on either side of Dean, curled back around his waist and the chair, but Sasha brought them back down so his feet could touch the floor for a minute, and he lifted himself up just enough to hover over Dean's hips. When Sasha was this urgent, the incubus never seemed to notice how much he put Dean into a daze, so it was very surprising to Dean when Sasha stretched himself only the tiniest bit before guiding Dean with a gentle hand and sitting back down to draw Dean in deep.

Dean felt a moment of panic. It was too tight at first with Sasha being so unprepared, and Dean couldn't help feeling anxious seeing the grimace that crossed Sasha's face.

"Hey…" Dean tried, his hands moving to Sasha's hips, touching the skin just beneath the towel and rubbing his thumbs gently, "I don't wanna…I don't want…to…"

"You don't want to hurt me," Sasha said evenly, the very words Dean couldn't quite get out, "Newsflash, Winchester. It's pretty hard to hurt me." As Sasha spoke, Dean raked his eyes over that pale, pretty face and the grimace he had seen was long gone, barely passing. "In fact, you could be rougher with me than you've ever been with anyone, and I'm pretty sure you'd still come out the most worse for the wear."

"Well..." Dean sputtered, giving the hips beneath his hands a good squeeze, "Incubus."

Sasha just laughed and leaned in closer to Dean's lips. "Exactly…" Sasha pulled on Dean's lower lip, then his upper lip, and then he pressed forward, and pressed again, and finally plunged his tongue to dance with Dean's, the hunger for Dean building a growl in his throat. After assuring that Dean was dazed and horny again, Sasha wrapped his legs back around the chair, completely in Dean's lap, and rocked slowly forward.

Dean broke away with a sharper gasp this time. His hands moved at once to Sasha's back, holding onto the incubus for support, because he was certain they would eventually end up flipping the chair if they weren't careful. The larger person was not supposed to be the one in that position for lap sex. Not that Dean had any intention of complaining considering how incredible it felt with Sasha moving so damn slow like that.

Every roll of Sasha's hips pulled Dean in deep enough to elicit ready moans, and with Dean pinned as he was beneath Sasha's weight, there was nothing Dean could do but take it, wantonly captive.

Little by little as they rocked Dean started to feel that extra heat building—the signs that Sasha was connecting him to the circuit. Dean waited for the moment it would be too much and he would lose himself to the sensation as he had before, but Sasha held back just a little so that it felt like a cross between the first time and when Sasha merely gave Dean the smallest taste.

"Perfect…" Dean breathed into Sasha's neck without meaning to.

Sasha had pulled Dean's head against him, giving Dean leave to lick long lines up his neck and tease and kiss his collarbone. Now Sasha pulled back, holding Dean's face as he stared at Dean in bemused questioning.

There was no going back now. "Perfect," Dean said again, taking Sasha's hands and pulling them down so he could draw their faces together again, "Just like this. Perfect," Dean grinned, wanting only to devour those damp and reddened lips again. So he did. Diving up to capture Sasha heatedly, Dean felt a surge of energy rush through him that he knew was Sasha's response, Sasha's pure incubus echoed joy.

The slow rolls of Sasha's hips became more hurried after that, and with the force behind them Dean once again felt the chair tip. He couldn't begin to care though. His hands found Sasha's waist and slid around to Sasha's rear again, gliding down inside the towel and pulling Sasha closer in time with their thrusts. Sasha's hands had moved up to Dean's face, feathering fingers back into Dean's hair and just holding his head right there so he could kiss him all the deeper.

That balance of sexual energy bouncing between then stayed constant, not overpowering but enough to send shivers up Dean's spine and make him feel close to climax already. Not a chance, Dean though. He was going to make this last.

Dean felt overheated with Sasha so wholly surrounding him that he wanted his shirt off desperately. He had just managed to get his hands down to the hem where he gripped and started lifting when a knock followed by a voice sounded from the door and made both of them freeze.

"You guys decent in there?" called Sam, already turning the knob and pushing the door open.

"No!" Sasha and Dean shouted in loud unison, enough to even startle themselves.

The door thankfully stopped its movement and quickly pulled closed again. "Okay. Good thing I asked first," Sam said, sounding amused, "Uhhh…I was thinking we should be getting ourselves ready to go, but…I can wait downstairs a few more minutes. If it gets passed five-thirty though, I'm coming in to get you no matter how indecent you're being. Fifteen minutes!" Sam called as he left.

There were some days Dean just really loved his brother. He waggled an eyebrow at Sasha when the incubus chuckled and looked down at him. "Think we can last fifteen more minutes? No one's ever undone me like you, ya know. It's almost embarrassing."

"Is that a challenge? Because I can certainly make it one," Sasha purred, lunging down at Dean's neck to bite just firmly enough and bucking so far forward that Dean felt completely taken in, devoured.

"Fuck," Dean all but growled in reply, "Is this…nggnnn…one of my other presents, by chance?"

"Just wait till we get home."

Dean moaned in response to that as Sasha started shifting his hips at a glorious angle, those hands Dean loved lifting and removing Dean's shirt for him and then returning to stroke up Dean's chest. Dean no longer had to wear bandages but not all of the stitches had dissolved yet. Dean might have felt flawed by those ugly welts that would surely leave several scars, but Sasha looked at him, all of him, like there was nothing he would rather touch than what his hands were touching now and Dean felt beautiful.

"Do you love me more than your car, Dean?" Sasha asked teasingly.

Half of Dean was lost in Sasha's renewed rocking and the way his hands kept tracing over Dean's naked upper body, but he definitely heard that and had to reply. "If I could sleep with her, you might have some competition. But as it stands…"

Sasha playfully grabbed Dean by the back of the neck and jerked him close. "Oh really?"

"Well if we could get you in more leather some time…" Dean suggested with a leer.

"I'm sure that can be arranged."

"Do we have to go to dinner?"

Sasha laughed. "Yes."

"Really?"

"Yes, Dean."

"Damn."

"Don't worry," Sasha said, their movements back to where they had been before Sam's interruption so that Dean's eyes half rolled into the back of his head, "We can make these fifteen minutes last. I'll make sure of it."

Dean knew never to doubt the incubus, and certainly didn't now, though how Sasha was going to pull this off with Dean being so close to the edge already, Dean had no idea.

After thirty minutes in the car and much bitching from Dean at how long it was taking, the three boys arrived at their intended destination, driven by Sam with Dean forced to sit in the back. Dean would have kicked both their asses if they had tried blindfolding him or something, but thankfully they hadn't. They did insist that he close his eyes when they got close to the restaurant though. Apparently, something about the sign would give too much away.

Once inside, Dean had to admit that the place looked like a fun time. It was more of a bar than a restaurant but still served food, something Dean could always appreciate. They grabbed a booth and started looking through the menu. Dean really needed a drink. He wasn't on any medication anymore so he could get as drunk as he wanted. His chest still ached from time to time, but not enough that he needed any Vicodin.

"I'm getting a Cap n Coke. Gotta start off on a good note," Dean said before even looking at what he wanted to eat. He knew he wanted the ribs anyway, having passed a table on their way in where a guy already had some and it just made Dean's mouth water. He took a once over of the whole place, noticing a lot of music memorabilia on the walls and that the little stage in the corner had a pretty crazy sound system. "I got it," he said, nudging Sam beside him and pointing a finger across at Sasha, "Live music right? Some guys doing metal covers or something. That's the surprise."

Sasha choked on a chuckle, shaking his head, and Sam was smiling way too wide.

"No? Then what? Come on, you're driving me crazy here! I know there's a catch to all this. We wouldn't have come all this way for the atmosphere and the food."

"You're right there," Sasha admitted, "But we've still got some time. By the time we're done eating…you'll know."

Dean didn't like those terms one bit but he knew he couldn't get either of them to crack. He just glared at both of them and returned to the menu.

Almost an hour later they had all pretty well cleaned their plates, Dean had downed two Cap n Cokes and only went that slow because Sam insisted he hold off a bit. Dean still had no idea what the angst twins had planned for him. It was really getting on his nerves. It was rounding seven o'clock! Dean opened his mouth to demand an answer when a microphone screech resounded throughout the room first.

"Attention ladies and gentlemen," came a voice that Dean saw came from a man not much older than Dean up on the little stage, "It's that time again here on Thursday nights, and as the tradition goes…first song falls to any birthday boys and girls." Dean felt panic creeping into his body as the man looked down at a card in his hand and said, "Can I have Sasha and Dean up here please?"

Oh hell know. "You brought me to a karaoke bar!" Dean hissed at his companions. Upon seeing the overly pleased looks on Sam and Sasha's faces, Dean tried to make a break for it out of the booth, but Sam's larger form easily blocked him. Dean realized then why they had insisted on that particular seating; he was completely boxed in.

"That's Sasha and Dean," the host said into the microphone again, casting his eyes over the various people enjoying their food or sitting up at the bar. It was actually pretty packed, which made Dean feel even more homicidal right now.

Suddenly, Sasha was waving at the man to make sure he didn't skip over their turn and then Sasha was out of the booth and Sam was making room for Dean to get out too.

Dean could totally break for it. He was smaller than both of them. He bet he was faster too. Sasha's couldn't exactly unfurl his wings in a crowded place. Regardless, Dean opted for glowers instead and his arms crossed firmly over his chest.

"I do not sing in public. No way."

"Dean, you have to," Sasha said, hands on his hips, "You made me get up and perform in front of a crowded place on my birthday, remember? Well…paybacks a bitch."

Ha frickin' ha. "You have talent. You like being in the spotlight. I am not even close to drunk enough to do this."

"I think we need a little encouragement, folks!" called the host suddenly, "Seems our birthday boy of the evening is shy. Let's hear it for Dean, huh! See if we can't coax him on out here!"

A round of applause erupted from the eaters and drinkers, and Sam joined right in, whistling long and loud with a pat on Dean's back.

Dean was going to kill them both. That was certain. But he was no pussy, damn it, and he knew they would never let him live this down if he didn't get up there. Kicking Sam in the shin, Dean pushed his brother the rest of the way out of the booth and got out after him. As soon as it was clear that he was up and both he and Sasha were heading for the stage, the applause and hollers grew louder. Some people may think Dean was the center of attention type, but he just played the part well. He would never choose to be put in the spotlight like this. Especially when it was singing.

"Dude, what song are we doing?" he asked Sasha angrily, throwing fake smiles and nods at the people cheering him on as he walked across the restaurant, "And if you say Stairway to Heaven you're sleeping with Sam tonight."

Of course, Sasha merely laughed. He leaned over to Dean then and whispered, "Don't worry, Dean. You know it. And I expect harmony or I'm making you sing Mariah Carrie by yourself."

Dean had no doubts now—Sasha was the devil in disguise. There always were those sayings about how the devil appeared in pleasing guises.

They reached the stage and the host, who smiled bright but genuinely as far as Dean could tell, and indicated the mics they were supposed to use. The problem was, Dean didn't see any screens, so he didn't know where he was supposed to look for lyrics. This couldn't be some kind of fly by your pants karaoke bar, could it?

Just as Dean thought that, a screen dropped down just off to the side. It went to that little title screen as the music started to play and Dean couldn't help smiling a little as he recognized the song. He had so walked right into this. He should have known he wouldn't be able to maintain his surly disposition either, but if this turned out to be the most embarrassing moment of Dean's life, there would definitely be consequences.

"Let's hear it for Sasha and Dean!" the host called before stepping off the stage. Dean distinctly heard Sam's voice rising above the others in the crowd to cheer them on.

Dean nodded to Sasha to make sure the incubus was taking the lead, and as the words started popping up on the screen, Sasha's smooth baritone poured loud and wonderful into the mic.

Gotta find a way
Yeah, I can't wait another day
Aint nothin' gonna change
If we stay 'round here

Dean swallowed thickly, held the mic up to his mouth and tried to pretend that a restaurant full of people wasn't listening as he joined in to add the harmony.

Gotta do what it takes
Cause all in our hands
We all make mistakes

Then Dean stopped again. He planned to drop out at every spot he remembered Steven Tyler singing alone, because there was no way he was going to try and make up harmony he didn't know. Besides, Dean preferred hearing Sasha anyway.

Yeah
But it's never too late

Even when he joined back in, he listened to Sasha not the music, not his own voice certainly, just Sasha and how somehow what was coming out of him made Sasha sound that much more amazing.

To start again
Take another breath

Sasha smiled over at Dean as he sang another line alone and there was no taunt, no superiority in the look, just genuine pleasure.

And say another prayer

Dean still might kill them both later, but if he was going to be forced into this, then he was going to own it. They hit the chorus and their voices rang out loudly together. Dean didn't think he was anything special, but together it was something else, and one thing he could be sure of was that they were definitely giving these folks a better show than they probably ever got on a Thursday night.

Then fly away from here
Anywhere
Yeah, I don't care
We'll just fly away from here
Our hopes and dreams

Sasha winked and gave a nod to Dean who reluctantly but as assuredly as he could sang the last of the chorus alone.

Are out there somewhere
Won't let time pass us by
We'll just fly

By the time the song ended, Dean couldn't deny having enjoyed himself and they earned a good many applause. Dean was still quick to return to their seats though, and he had a feeling his face was flush when he finally sat back down.

"You are buying me so much liquor to counter that," Dean said with as much of a glare directed at Sasha and Sam as he could manage through his adrenaline created smile, "And you," he said, smacking Sam hard upside the head with no sympathy for his brother's cry, "Better sure as hell know you're getting your jumbo ass up there too."

"Wh-What?" Sam stammered, eyes wide with fear in the face of Dean's smirk and Sasha laughing at him, "No, no, no. I don't sing. You can't make me go up there."

"Sure I can," Dean grinned evilly, "And I get to pick the song too."

Well that sure knocked Sam down off his damn pedestal. A Whiskey Sour and two beers later, Dean was feeling just fine, and he nearly fell over laughing when Sam was finally called up to take his turn and sang so stiffly Dean teased him the rest of the night about having a stick lodged up his ass. That at least would have explained the pitch problems. Dean would never be able to think of Barry Manilow again without breaking into guffaws at the expense of his brother.

Well you came and you gave without taking
but I sent you away, oh Mandy
well you kissed me and stopped me from shaking
And I need you today, oh Mandy

Eventually, Dean was halfway to wasted, Sam was right behind him with all the beer he downed when he got back to the table after singing, and Sasha was at least buzzed if the flush to his cheeks were any indication. Dean couldn't say a thing against them now, but even though he couldn't imagine really being upset with them anymore, that didn't mean he wasn't already cooking up plans to make them pay. The worst rendition of Mandy—probably ever—just wasn't good enough.

The evening would have continued without a hitch after that, aside from a few really awful singings, if not for the surprise none of them could have expected.

Sasha was getting up to grab another round of something—they hadn't decided what yet—when the incubus' face suddenly went pale. Slowly, he slid back into the booth, staring over at the brothers and remaining very still.

"Dude, if you're gonna hurl, make for the bathroom, don't aim it at us," Dean chuckled.

But Sasha didn't look sick or amused by Dean's joke. He just looked very, very worried. That made Sam worried too, and Dean couldn't help but fall in line.

"What is it?" Dean asked after a whole minute of Sasha just sitting there.

It was easy to see the large lump that formed in Sasha's throat and he had trouble swallowing it down. Finally, he spoke, but his voice was shaking. "I can sense another incubus in the restaurant."

At first Dean felt his trigger finger itch for the small blade he carried on his ankle, but then Dean came back to his senses and he had to pause. "But…you're good guys." Wasn't that now universally accepted among them, proven only too obviously by Sasha's presence in their lives, and even more notably in Dean's bed?

Sasha still looked troubled though and he didn't say anything. Dean looked over at Sam for some kind of encouragement or help here but all he saw was the puppy eyes working both ways. Dean had to wonder if being set across from each other like that would create some kind of vortex of angsty doom.

Then Dean realized. Sasha wasn't exactly on friendly terms with…any of his kind. Only his aunt. All the others thought of him as an outcast. He was an outcast. Dean felt so stupid for not getting that right away. Sasha was scared to face another of his kind because they would undoubtedly look at him with scorn.

And then it was too late to say anything because Sasha's eyes lifted, wide and unreadable to the side of their table. Dean followed that frightened gaze and his eyes landed on what appeared to be a beautiful young woman with copper hair and eyes like a thunderstorm. She clearly wasn't an incubus, but Dean was pretty sure her and Sasha were still on the same wavelength.

What he couldn't have expected though was the way she said, "Sasha?" with perfect recognition.

tbc...

A/N: Any guesses?

Man do I have notes on this one. Okay, so we got a little redo of the witches episode. See this timing is before that episode happened so I'm going with the one girl not having committed murder or dying herself quite yet. I like to save extra lives where I can, and this just happened to work out. But will we see that demon again? You'll have to wait and see.

The Mormon names Davis and Markelli are taken from the movie "Latter Days" which I recommend to all slash lovers. Elder Davis is one of the characters, but Markelli is the last name of the guy who becomes his gay lover. Hee.

Lots of Aerosmith, the duet needing a big thank you to go out to Winterheart who helped me choose it. It came out in 2001 but just seemed so fitting. YouTube it. It's Fly Away From Here and has a very...interesting video.

Find any good plot bunnies, Lisa? ;-)

And please review people! I feel neglected... ;-)

And onto the rant. OMFG! I am so disappointed. Lilith is SO the easy way out with this. I remember thinking, ooo, I wonder who holds the contract. I'm sure it will be cool. Well, as long as it isn't LILITH since that's too obvious. You LOSE Kripke. I'm sorry, but that's how I feel. We'll see how things go in the season finale. At any rate, though I may throw my own version of Lilith in at some point, she does NOT hold the contract in MY version.

On the other hand, I LOVE Bela and I thought it was interesting that she sold her soul too. I know she's a bitch, but I'm sad to see her go, because I think she is a very well-rounded and interesting character. Unlike certain blonde demons.

And finally...I'm so scared for Dean. Oh I don't plan on being nice to him in my version-apparently I like torturing my characters-but part of me is wary of next week. Regardless of what happens, boys, we're with you.

Crim