The Strange Ways That We Meet
Sam stepped into the club and immediately threw his hands over his eyes. He had driven straight through the night, jacked up on a case of energy drinks and anxiety, and his fingers still shook as he tried to block out the strobe lights. A DJ spun a remix of Lady Gaga's "Bad Romance" as a brunette strutted onto stage, and Sam lowered his fingers, moving closer to the stage.
The woman expertly pulled her ponytail out, revealing tumbling dark waves, exposing a miniscule plaid skirt and belly-baring white dress shirt. To the catcalls of the business-suited clientele, she shimmied down the winding stairs, and suddenly she was right in front of Sam. Her scarlet-tipped fingers shoved him down into the nearest chair before she climbed into his lap, writhing her hips as her mouth lowered to his ear and whispered "Bitch".
Sam's eyes widened and he made to stand up, but she quickly pushed him back down, sliding her hands under his shirt as she slipped a piece of paper into his pocket. As she grabbed the silver pole and swung around, Sam glanced around, assuring he was alone before opening the note. When the woman headed off stage, Sam waited a moment, then followed, letting the memorized directions from the note lead him to an oak door off a long hallway.
The scarlet fingernails reached out and pulled him in, and Sam found himself in a ridiculously opulent dressing room, makeup scattered over counters, mirrors completely covering one wall, and a massive bed sheathed in satin sheets. And then he turned, and found himself face-to-face with a gun.
"You're Sammy Winchester, right?"
"I am, I-Sammy?" Sam stepped forward, ignoring the gun, eyes lighting up. "You've seen Dean, you've talked to Dean. He's alive?"
"First words out of your mouth are about Dean, you're definitely Sam," she said with a smile, holstering the gun. "First words out of his mouth were about you. He's alive," she added quickly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I've only gotten to talk to him a little, but I know he's alive. He thought you'd come after him, told me to call you bitch so you'd know you could trust me. You two have some strange code words for trust."
With a soft laugh, she perched on the bed, and Sam sat beside her. "I'm Aurora Sinclair," she said, and shook the hand Sam offered before handing him her badge. "I've been undercover at this club for about a month, trying to get a handle on this kidnapping ring."
"So...a human took Dean?" The words were out of Sam's mouth before he could stop them, and he stood up quickly. "I mean, just a normal guy, not some, um…some mafia guy or something?"
"Yeah, this guy is new to the game," Aurora said, eyes still studying him as she shrugged. "But that doesn't mean he's not good. He's very good. And as soon as finds out Dean's not rich like he thought he was…"
"Shit, yeah, we were at that mansion party when he disappeared." Hands rubbing at his strained eyes, Sam sighed deeply. "We've got four bucks to our name right now. And unless there's a pool hall within two feet of here, I can't get anymore in time."
"Then we'll get him out ourselves," Aurora said softly, and when Sam turned his head, he was staring right into her eyes. A loud banging suddenly sounded at the door, immediately followed by a man's deep voice yelling "Bethany!"
"Shit," Aurora muttered, and pulled Sam onto the bed, ripping his shirt open before pinning him onto the sheets and burying her face in his neck. The next second, the door was flung open, and Aurora spun around. "Boss, c'mon!" she said coyly, running a hand down Sam's chest. "We're kinda busy here."
"Sorry babe," the burly man said with a leer. "Some boys were asking for you, but I'll tell you're occupied. Good to see you're finally embracing the full lifestyle." As soon as the door shut, Aurora rolled off Sam.
"I'm really sorry," she said, a deep blush staining her cheeks as she stared at the floor. "I couldn't have him suspecting anything…I'm not that kind of girl, you know, I…he's been on me since the first day I walked in here to bring clients back to my room and I never have, I just…want you to know that."
"Don't worry," Sam said, and he lay a hand on her chin, tilting her face up. "I don't think that about you."
"I know where they're keeping your brother," she said quickly, fingers lacing at the top of her gun, Sam doing the same.
Sam had been planning to stay close to Aurora, protect her, but he found he once again had the wrong idea. She threw the first punch, nailed her first kick, and Sam would swear for years after that he had seen her land a perfect backflip after running up the wall. They advanced back to back down the hallway, gaining some bruises and cuts, but gaining more ground.
At a nod from Aurora, Sam kicked a large door down, and there was Dean, cheek bruised, wrists chafed from steel handcuffs, but fine enough to flash a grin Sam's way and mock-whine "Did you bring me pie, Sammy?" Sam rolled his eyes, then grinned, a deep laugh of relief escaping his lips and almost doubling him over.
Kneeling next to Dean, Sam quickly glanced around, before a bobby pin was placed in his hand. Looking up at Aurora, she flashed him a smile. "Being the sexy schoolteacher at least has one advantage."
Sam blushed deeply, and Dean laughed. "What Sammy's trying to say," Dean said, rotating his now-freed wrists with a wince, "is that he feels there are more advantages than just you having bobby pins."
Sam reached over and whapped Dean across the back of the head, and Dean cried out. "Shit Dean, are you ok?"
"You are so sweet and gullible, Sammy," Dean smirked, and Sam shook his head.
"It's Sam," he glared, but couldn't stop the smile. "Jerk."
"Bitch," Dean responded, staggering slightly as he tried to stand up. Sam slipped his shoulder under Dean's arm, guiding him towards the door.
"You guys get out of here," Aurora said, cocking her gun as she peered around the doorframe. "I'll cover you."
"We are not leaving you here with your cover blown," Sam said insistently, and Dean nodded, leaning against the wall and catching the gun Sam tossed his way.
"Hello baby." Dean paused long enough to stroke the Impala's hood before curling up in the passenger seat, allowing Sam to tuck his legs into the driver's side.
"Can we drive you somewhere?" Sam asked, head out the window as Aurora leaned against the side of the car.
"My ride's here," she grinned, as five cars, sirens screaming, careened into the parking lot. The grin slowly slid off her face as she looked back at Sam. "So…bye Sam. Bye Dean. Take care of yourselves, ok?"
"Wait!" Sam grabbed her phone out of her pocket and punched a few keys. "Call me when this is over, let me know you're alright." As the CIA agents and cops began to eye the car, Sam leaned out the window, kissing Aurora's cheek before stomping on the gas.
"That's my boy," Dean said with a smile, as his eyes drifted closed.