On a lonely desert highway in Eastern Nevada a black '67 Impala streaked down the hot two-lane blacktop perhaps doing a tad more than the seventy-mile an hour speed limit. Inside the brothers Dean and Sam Winchester were researching their latest case, or at least Sam was. Rather than being productive, Dean was singing (if you could call it that) along with his Ozzy Osbourne tape while Sam perused Police Reports on his laptop.

The younger Winchester looked over at his brother, currently in full head-banging mode, and decided that his developing headache meant that he was done waiting for the metal-fest to end. That, and their car was beginning to weave on the road.

"Dean, turn the music down!"

Dean glanced at his brother, faux innocence on his face, "Sorry, can't hear you!" he gestured uselessly at his ear.

Sam pursed his lips, then reached down and stabbed the eject button, "I've finished going through the reports. Over the last week or so, five comatose people have been found with their eyes burned out. None of them have woken up yet, I'm betting their souls are gone."

"Demon?" Dean discretely reached over and popped his tape back in.

"Maybe," Sam gave his brother a look and Dean meekly turned the volume down, "Demons don't usually just burn someone's eyes out and leave."

"An angel then?" Dean suggested, "Cas's 'visage' burned out Pamela's eyes."

"Only Pam isn't in a coma." Sam quickly shot the theory down.

"What's more powerful that an angel? God?" Dean scoffed. Angels were walking around for the first time in two thousand years, and they seemed to believe he was important enough to drag out of Hell. But, come on, some all-powerful dude looking out him? Sure, and Sam was all unicorns and rainbows.

Dean shook the thought away and looked over at his brother, who was leaning against the window watching the desert landscape fly by, "So… Hollywood again." He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"Dean," Sam stretched out the name warningly, "You are not going after any actresses."

"Come on Sammy! Tara was hot, and that other chick, uh, Cindy. She was very smooth."

"Wasn't her name Sandy?" Sam asked without looking at his brother.

"No, it was Cindy. Cindy. Sandy's the other one, lives up on the coast." A pleased look drifted over Dean's face as he reminisced.

Sam made a disgusted sound and went back to his laptop. He had better things to do than discuss the multitudes of women his brother had *cough* relations *cough* with.

The interior of the Impala was free of chatter while Sam switched his search from police reports to Hollywood tabloids. A little Men In Black maybe, but the tabloids tend to catch things that other news sources didn't. After a few minutes, he found an interesting article. "Well, that's odd."

"What's up?"

"Something happened on the set of that doctor show you like."

"Dr. Sexy MD?" Suddenly, Dean was all ears, "What happened?"

"They were filming a scene about performing a heart surgery, when one of the actresses had a heart attack," Sam skimmed the article for anything else, then looked up as at his brother, "That is way too coincidental."

Dean smirked, "I think it's time for us to sneak onto the movie sets again."

"Oh, no."

Meanwhile, in Hollywood, Johnny Blaze was whistling as he weaved in and out of traffic on his way to work. It was rare for him to be in such a good mood, but out in the bright daylight his problems seemed far away. Finding a job had been more difficult than he had anticipated, even in the big city. Johnny had never attended school and didn't have a resume of any kind, or even any decent job skills besides motorcycle riding. It also didn't help that he was supposed to be dead. He had finally managed to cut a lucky break, though. Some movie studio had decided it was time to remake the old Stunt Master TV show into a movie, and jumped at the chance to have the famous motorcycle daredevil come back to do the stunts for the new movie. No questions asked.

Stopping at the gate, Johnny was waved through with barely a glance from the guard. A far cry from the old days when the studio guards would give him as much grief as possible and sometimes refused outright to let him in. It seemed like an entire lifetime ago, and in a way it was. The years before he had learned what he really was, before he had been sent to hell and enslaved by heaven.

Stunt riding was a great way to banish the dark thoughts from the forefronts of his mind. That was always one of the things Johnny loved about it, the total concentration that let him force all other thoughts from his head. At least for a few moments, there was no worrying about Zadkiel, Lucifer, or any of the other things currently trying to make his life hell.

Several hours later, Johnny had finished his stunts for the day and was leaning back in his chair idly watching several other stunt men play poker when he spotted something unusual. He had gotten to know all of the actors and costumes used on Stunt Master, and so could tell quite easily that the two plainclothes men walking by the set did not belong. Wandering idly if they were lost extras from another movie, Johnny keyed into their conversation.

"I heard they were remaking Stunt Master, but I didn't think it was true." The taller one whispered to his companion.

"Whatever it is, it's not the set we're looking for," his friend hissed back.

"Oh, right."

Okay, so not extras but civilians who had snuck in. Johnny's eyes narrowed as they grew closer, close enough for him to feel that something was not right with the two. It wasn't necessarily evil, but there was a definite feel of hell around them. So much for a peaceful day at work.

"Hey, boys, y'all lost?" Johnny forced a smile onto his face as he walked over to the two men.

"No." Dean denied smoothly, "I'm a PA, just had to go pick up some stuff, you know."

"Then who's he?" Johnny looked at Sam, "PA to the PA?"

"Uh…"

This close, and Johnny still couldn't make out anything definite about the two. But in the back of his mind, the Rider was growling uncomfortably. He didn't want to go all hellfire and chain in the middle of the backlot, but also didn't want to leave them alone. "It's cool, I'm not gonna call security on y' or anything. Fact, how 'bout I give you boys a tour?"

Now Dean was suspicious, "And why would you do that?"

Johnny shrugged, "Because I'm finished for the day and have nothing better to do. Besides, if you're with me, you don't have to worry about getting kicked out."

Sam scrutinized Johnny, then nodded, "Alright. I'm Sam, this is my brother Dean."

"Johnny Blaze."

At this statement, Dean's eyes widened almost comically, "The motorcycle daredevil?" He had been wondering why the man seemed so familiar.

Johnny grinned, "That's me." They started walking away towards the hub of the studio.

"So, you're one of the stunt guys for the new stunt master show?" Dean asked idly as they walked.

"Yep," Johnny turned to head for the rather impressive Universal Back Lot, "Real funny how that works; I was a stuntman on the original too."

"I think I remember that."

Sam sighed and decided to try and shift the conversation back to the brother's original mission, "So, do you know where the set for, uh, Dr. Sexy MD is?"

"Isn't that that doctor show?" Johnny frowned as he looked around, "I think I know where the set is. This way."

"Did you hear about what happened on the set last week?" Sam asked casually as they wound their way through a group of rowdy cowboys.

"The whole heart attack thing?" The entire studio was still a-twitter about it. Dr. Sexy MD, from what he had gleaned from the rumor rill, was a cheesy soap opera that relied more on the actor's attractiveness than any kind of plot and was populated mostly by performers whose offstage personality wasn't necessarily as sparkly as their onstage one. There wasn't a lot of mourning from the other shows on the lot. "Pretty funny, huh?"

"Funny?" Dean sounded rather offended, "My favorite actress had to be rushed to the hospital."

The biker shrugged, "I don' really like that show or any o' the actors. Besides, I heard she survived." He fished around in his pocket for a moment before producing a bag of jellybeans, snagged from a food truck hours previous in case he needed a snack between takes. "Jellies?"

"Sweet!" Dean grabbed a couple and munched contentedly as they continued their private tour.