The Pursuit for Happiness

*~The Pursuit for Happiness*~

Chapter One: A New Beginning

The sun was peeking over the clouds, slowly making it's ascent into the mass of an orange and gold morning sky, casting soft rays of light through the trees that were whizzing past at a steady speed. Sam Winchester had been dozing off in the front seat of the car, his head leaning against the cool glass of the passenger-side window, cheekbone-length locks falling into his sleep-induced eyes. He felt the warm light of the sunrise cast over his face and blinked a few times sitting up in the seat and yawning. Sam rubbed the sleep out of his blue eyes and glanced over at his older brother who sat cheerfully behind the wheel, his usual smug smirk playing on his face. At least Sam hadn't woken up with a plastic spork shoved in his mouth, one of the many practical jokes his brother loved to play on him when Sam would fall asleep in the car. There was music emanating softly from the radio, Metallica, as far as Sam could tell. He studied his older brother's face momentarily as his eyes drifted towards the waking younger brother. "So I see you finally decided to wake up," came Dean's playful voice as his eyes made their way back to the road. "You should really buy some of that throat spray for your snoring," he added, the smirk never leaving his handsome face, green eyes dancing.

"Oh would you shut up," complained Sam, an exasperated groan resounded, and he stretched his long arms back over the seat as far as he could. "It's not like you don't snore either. I can't tell you how many nights I've woken up because you snore so loud, Dean." He chuckled softly to himself as he could recall a night he actually threw a pillow at his older brother for snoring so loudly he couldn't even focus on the current research he'd been working on. It was a few years back when it happened, but the memory was still fresh and hilarious in his mind. Dean had sat up sputtering a string of nonsense and curse words before falling right back down onto the bed, sound asleep and snoring loudly, mouth wide open, once more. Sam sat up more in his seat, fully awake now, and gazed at the country surroundings that continued to fly past as Dean drove the '67 Impala to their newest destination. The younger brother couldn't help but let a small smile stay on his face causing the dimple on the side of his face to indent.

Sam had been back on earth for a few months now, and he couldn't have been happier. He was currently living with his brother, his brother's girlfriend Lisa and her son Ben, but the younger Winchester couldn't complain. They'd welcomed him into their home with open arms. Not only that, but it made it easier for Bobby to contact them if he'd gotten wind on a new case for them to investigate. It felt great being back in the saddle again. Though if there was one thing Sam would never forget and that's what it felt like having the Devil trapped in his body. His experience in the pit had been completely unlike his older brother's, but it still didn't make the visit to Hell anymore pleasant.

Honestly though, it was because the archangel Michael and the Devil's older brother had wanted to kill him considering he was Lucifer. This was why he'd opened a portal to Hell with the Horsemen's rings and thrown himself in. He had hoped to trap Lucifer back into his cage and free himself from Lucifer's grasp. Sam had also been prepared to spend an eternity in Hell. By doing this, Sam had ended the apocalypse and saved the world from Lucifer's reign, chaos and destruction. However, it was all thanks to Michael that Sam, as well as his and Dean's younger brother Adam who'd been under Michael's possession at that point, were back on earth and living a normal life again. Well, maybe not so normal, but as normal as it could get for a son of John Winchester.

Dean had fallen into a serious relationship with Lisa during Sam's absence and even looked at her boy Ben as if he were his own son as well as helped Lisa raise him. Adam, on the other hand, he decided to go his own way. He wanted to go and find himself a job and live a normal life away from anything paranormal. The boy had wanted as far away from the supernatural as he could get. He still kept in touch with his brothers as often as he could, sending them e-mails, a phone call now and then. Adam was currently attending college and working a part-time job. To be honest, Sam and Dean didn't blame him really, but as for them this was all the two brothers had really known all their life, and that was how to be hunters, to fight and exorcise demons, lay vengeful spirits to rest, chase and kill wendigos, slaughter vampires and werewolves and any other manner of vile creatures needing exterminated. Sam truthfully couldn't be more grateful to be back to his version of normal once more. No more worries of being the vessel of Satan hanging over his head, no more apocalyptic threats on the brothers, no more weight of the world on their shoulders, and Sam could say that non-metaphorically. They literally had the weight of the entire world resting on their shoulders at that point in time. It was up to them to save the entire world from death and destruction, and save it Sam did.

"The hell are you laughing about?" Dean questioned tearing Sam from his thoughts, one hand resting loosely over the steering wheel in a relaxed manner as he turned his head towards his brother, one eyebrow lifted in obvious curiosity.

"Nothing, it's nothing. I was just remembering something is all," Sam suppressed his chuckles, not realizing he'd still been softly laughing, and gazed ahead out the windshield. Since he'd been back on earth all the memories of his past, the hunting trips with his brother, even insignificant, silly things such as Sam super gluing his brother's hand to a beer bottle, to the hard times in his life when he had to kill Madison because she was a werewolf and the only possible cure hadn't worked for her, to the demon manipulation by Ruby and Lilith were all so fresh in his mind as if they all had happened days earlier. Sam tried not to think of those times and if memories began haunting him, he tried to focus on the good ones. Sam ran a large hand through his dark hair, brushing back the few strands that had fallen into his one of his eyes and looked at Dean. "So, are we getting close?" he questioned his brother, changing the subject.

"Yep! About 5 more miles to go 'til we get to Whitehall, Michigan," Dean replied. "We passed a sign while you were still in dreamland. There should be a motel there where we can stay at too," he added, eyes not leaving the road. "I'm glad this place we're going to be checking out is a bar. I could seriously use a drink, and you could use some serious female attention, Sammy."

Sam groaned again and averted his gaze from the car window back towards Dean once more, one thin eyebrow raised, an aggravated expression crossing his attractive features. "Dean, c'mon now. Be serious," Sam remarked, his tone deep and serious.

"I AM being serious!" the older brother stated. "You could really stand to get laid, Sammy. I mean c'mon! How long has it been now? One year? Two years? Maybe even longer? I can't see how you last that long. It's just not possible." Dean shook his head in disbelief before looking over at his younger brother now, who was staring pointedly out the windshield once more. Obvious agitation was radiating from the younger hunter's body, but Sam knew Dean didn't pay it any mind. He also knew his older brother was just looking out for his best interest, but it didn't help matters much.

"Dean, we've been through this before, and you can forget it," Sam sighed, folding his arms across his chest in an almost childish, stubborn, younger brother way. "I'm not going there...not again." How Sam wished Dean hadn't brought this up, because there it was fresh in his memory. Jessica burning to death on his ceiling, dripping blood onto his forehead, a complete look of horror plastered to her face. He could remember the pain of her death and how it affected him and how he had missed her and still continued to. He had even bought a ring and was going to ask Jessica to marry him, but it never happened. It took him a long time before he could allow himself to feel something for another girl which was Madison. Madison...

He could vividly remember her changing from a beautiful woman into a terrifying creature of the moonlight right before his eyes, her claws slashing the side of his face, her begging him to save her, and by saving her she meant him killing her. He remembered her placing the pistol in his hands tears on her face, the sound of her pleading, how Sam had walked away, how Dean had taken the pistol from him and offered to do it himself, how Sam told him he had to be the one to do it because Madison had asked him to, the coolness of the handle of the gun loaded with silver bullets, and through his tears he shot her. No, not again. Every girl he'd tried to pursue anything with had always ended up dead or was a monster. Sam shook his head, forcing the painful thoughts from his mind. "Forget it," the young hunter reiterated. No more innocent girls were going to die because of him. It wasn't happening ever again.

"Sammy,' Dean began and then hesitated for a moment before continuing, his playful exterior diminishing into a more serious one. "Just because of what's happened in the past, what happened to you, the decisions you made doesn't mean you aren't allowed happiness. I mean look at me. I was in Hell. I mean, I know you were too, but you didn't torture souls repeatedly for years on end like I did and enjoy it, and now look at where I am. I'm with Lisa, we're raising Ben together. I love her, Sam. So why can't something like that happen for you too?"

Sam laughed humourlessly. "No, I didn't torture souls. I was only Lucifer, the Devil, Satan, you name it and yeah, maybe it would be nice if something like that could happen for me, but it's not going to, Dean. So just forget it. Besides, what's with you and the chick flick moments? I thought you hated them?"

Dean shrugged and chuckled. "Well, I guess I can't help it sometimes." The older hunter thrust his chest out. "I'm turning into a family man, Sammy! I guess it's changing me or some shit like that anyway," he shrugged and continued to watch the road ahead of him.

Sam had to admit that he was happy for his brother. He was grateful that Lisa took such good care of him while Sam was...away. The younger Winchester was also happy to see his older brother so content with life for the first time. They had family dinners together every night, cheerfully chatting about the day at the dinner table with one another. There had even been nights that Dean and Lisa had gone out while Sam stayed home and kept an eye on Ben for them. The brothers didn't hunt nearly as much as they used to. They weren't constantly on the open road, constantly on the go like they had been in the past, but when duty called, the brothers would head to where they were most needed, always willing to lend a hand where anything paranormal may be taking place. Lisa didn't mind it much. Sure she and Dean missed each other a great deal while he was out on a job, but he always called, always kept in touch with her, promised her he'd be home as soon as he could, and his promises were always kept. For that Lisa was grateful, and Sam could tell that she loved Dean with all her heart.

Dean was a lucky man, and Sam couldn't help but feel envious at times, except for when he reminded himself of what he did in his past. Because of this, Sam didn't feel he deserved true happiness like his older brother had. The younger Winchester was always good at bluffing, hiding the way he truly felt. Even though he was overjoyed to be back on earth, back with his brother, Bobby and growing close to Dean's family, he still couldn't help but feel constant remorse for what he'd done in his past, for everything he'd gone through. Dean had even offered to take Sam to see Sarah, a girl he'd began taking a deep liking for years ago, but they ended up having to leave to head to yet another job so he was never able to further pursue anything more serious with her.

Sam had declined the offer, reminding Dean it had been over 4 years since he'd last seen her. She was probably with somebody else and had a family of her own. Sam was interrupted in his thoughts by his brother drumming on his steering wheel, singing obnoxiously. The car began slowing as street lights came into sight, along with buildings and businesses lined up along the street. It was obvious the town wasn't very big or overly occupied, but it looked cozy enough. A motel began coming into view just ahead and Sam pointed it out. "Let's go to the motel first before heading to the bar," Sam stated. "I could really use a shower and I need to brush my teeth."

"Yeah you could use a shower," Dean agreed, nodding his head and wrinkling his nose. "Dude, you smell like ass."

Sam rolled his eyes and gave an annoyed sigh. "Not much better than you, brother. I'm not the only one who's spent hours on end in the car with no shower to be had."

"Touche', Sammy. You got me there," Dean laughed as the Impala rumbled her way up to the small parking lot in front of the motel. "Grab the bags from the trunk would you, and I'll go book the room for us," Dean stated as he opened up the door and got out of the car. Sam nodded, following suit, and he swung his long legs out of the car stretching them out. He stood up outside of the Impala and shut the door, stretching his tall body up as high as it would go. Man, it felt good to be out of that car and stretching his long legs. Dean tossed Sam the car keys and stalked his way up to the motel office to book the room for him and his brother. Sam caught the keys with swift coordination and popped open the trunk grabbing both his and Dean's bags, slinging them both over his shoulder ease. He closed the trunk and waited outside for the older Winchester.

Moments later, Dean reappeared with the motel keys and took them to room 17. "Hopefully the beds are comfortable this time around. Man, the last time we stayed in one of these I had back problems for a week. Damn springs," Dean complained as the brothers reached the motel room. Dean popped the key into the slot and opened up the door. There were two full sized beds with soft, blue and white striped comforters, two pillows on each and a night stand in between both beds with a lamp sitting on top and a telephone. Across from the beds was a long, oak wood dresser with a 27 inch colored TV sitting on top. There was a small, cardboard pamphlet sitting on top of the TV as well, which Sam could see Dean eyeing curiously. Most likely his brother was wondering if porn was present and Sam just rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"I'm going to grab a shower," Sam told his brother who had already grabbed the pamphlet off the TV and was studying it.

"WOO! ALRIGHT!" Dean whooped, thrusting a fist in the air. "24 hour erotica and it's free!"

"Yeah...that's real nice," Sam remarked sarcastically rolling his blue eyes and shaking his head. Dean had already thrown himself back on his bed, one arm behind his head and his other clutching the TV remote. "You had better not be...watching erotica when I get out of the shower. That's a sight I do not want to witness, thanks," he added, mustering up his bitchface at his older brother.

Dean sat up, feigning being startled by Sam's words. "But, Sammy! Lisa's not here! How am I supposed to, you know, rectify that...missing-," Sam cut Dean off by holding up a large hand.

"You know what, Dean? Duly noted, and I reeeeeeally don't need to be hearing about this right now, thanks. I'm going to shower and you're next because you really do stink," he added pinching the bridge of his nose and heading into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind him and secretly hoping that his older brother had enough respect not to...take care of his little problem while Sam was still in the room. The younger Winchester tossed his travel case up on top of the sink, dug out his toothbrush and brushed away the morning breath, grateful at this point for toothpaste and water. There were some white, freshly washed towels and washcloths stacked up in the small set of shelves on the wall behind him,and he grabbed one down, placing it on the back of the toilet. Sam stepped over to the shower and turned the knob, popping up the shower nozzle and sticking his hand underneath to feel the temperature.

He toyed with the water temperature before he was satisfied, slipped out of his jeans and t-shirt and stepped under the warm, cascading water. Sam closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of the water running through his hair and down his skin. He quickly shampooed and conditioned his hair and washed himself clean, stepped out of the shower and towel-dried himself off. He grabbed another towel and towel-dried his hair before stepping out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his slender waist, the steam from the hot shower billowing out and hoping against hope that Dean wasn't doing anything he didn't want to particularly see. Thankfully he wasn't. He'd just clicked the TV off as Sam made his way over to his bed and grabbed one of the bags that he carried his suits in for whenever he and Dean were going to impersonate FBI agents. The younger brother looked towards Dean with an eyebrow raised while Dean stared back with a goofy grin. He rose up off his bed and grabbed his bags.

"Well, I suppose it's my turn," the older Winchester stated matter-of-factly and practically skipped off into the bathroom. Sam just shook his head, confused at Dean's odd chipperness, and then decided that he really didn't want to know. Instead, he turned towards his clothes and started pulling them out, deciding on what tie to wear and wondering what this hunt was going to bring them.

~~~~~~~~~

A couple of hours later, Sam and Dean had sorted out their fake FBI ID badges and were seated comfortably in Dean's Impala as they pulled up to their destination, the bar where the disappearances had occurred with no witnesses, only that this was the last place the victims had been seen. Dean parked the vehicle and shut it off, looking towards his brother. "You ready?" he asked and Sam nodded. "Yep, let's go find out what the hell is going on here," he replied, opening up his car door.

Sam chuckled at the irony name of the bar named Angel Tavern and he shook his head. Dean laughed along with him. "Yeah, the name of the bar...it's just-,"

"Funny," both of the brothers stated in unison and set them off in another fit of laughs, both shaking their head. "It's so ironic, isn't it?" Sam had to admit he really did miss this a great deal and was truly glad to be back out on another hunt with his older brother.

"I'm still gonna try and get you laid," Dean tried to mumble to himself but failed. Sam shot him a look of provocation, or as Dean liked to refer to it as 'Sam's bitchface'. "I'm sorry, Dean. Could you speak up? I don't think I heard you properly," the younger hunter growled at his older brother and glared.

"Hey man, I'm just saying. We're not talking a lifetime romance here. Just some Sammy and girl action is all, but if you don't want it then it's your funeral I guess," Dean put both hands up in defeat. "Well, let's head inside then and see if we can get some information from the locals before talking to the police."

Sam nodded in agreement, as both brothers straightened up in their attempt to look like professionals and slowly made their way to the entrance of Angel Tavern.

Chapter Two: All Work and No Play

Sam drew in an apprehensive breath as he followed his older brother up to the entrance of tavern. It wasn't very large and looked almost old-fashioned, yet new and very well kept up on the outside. There was a cement sidewalk that led to the entrance of the bar with a small flight of about three cement steps. Sam guessed that each step was probably three feet long and a foot wide. There were wooden banisters on either sides of the steps, carved on the ends into a curly, delicate pattern. On both sides of the steps were two regular, wooden park benches, but that's not what brightened the place up, because it certainly didn't appear worse for wear or gloomy. It was vivid with greens of the grass and the bright colors of flower bushes on either side of each park bench. Sam couldn't tell what kind of flowers they were, but they were of the most vivid red and yellow hues, reminding him of a bright, warm, sunny day to maybe even the extravagance of a spring sunrise. The closer to the building they came, Sam could tell it was made of brick. Lovely, palladian, tinted windows hung in a distinguished configuration on each side of the door.

The sign that rested over the top of the bar was obviously handmade and wooden but painted so intricately and beautiful, and it too was well kept. The lettering across the sign reading Angel Tavern had been hand-painted in a white, scripted text. The flow of the paint at the end of each lettering tapered off thinner and thinner until it had disappeared and moved on to the next letter only to do the same thing. Along with the wording across the sign there was a painting of an angel. Sam couldn't help but snort over how wrong the world perceived angels. How completely inaccurate these people were! There was nothing heavenly about these creatures at all, especially the archangels. Castiel was possibly the one exception to that. However the others were only interested in battle. He'd even grown to learn that some angels were just downright nasty and manipulative. In some ways, they could be as bad as demons.

No angel could actually look as beautiful as the one painted in this sign, with long, flowing, golden-blonde hair, the skin tone perfect, the angel nude and no discernable gender with it's hands clasped together. She was painted in a fashion as if a bright light had engulfed her torso. Large, white, feathered wings were spread out in decent wingspan and a golden halo floated above the angel's hair. The sun's rays hit the sign, and it almost looked as if it were glittering. Maybe it was just a trick of the vibrant sunlight . Dean and Sam exchanged not so amused glances as the two had both been gazing upward at the sign. Dean chuckled to himself and shook his head at the bitter irony that was swinging back and forth gently from the light wind that rustled through the air.

"Ahh if only they knew, Sammy," the older brother stated, an obvious sigh could be heard mixed in his tone. "If only they knew."

The younger Winchester nodded his head in agreement. "I was pretty much thinking the exact same thing," Sam added.

The two brothers made their way up the steps and pulled open the simple, thick glass door and stepped into the bar. It was not at all what Sam had invisioned by looking at the outside of the building, and it seemed a lot bigger on the inside than it did on the outside. Shiny, polished, wooden floors could be seen underneath the black rug that laid across the floor at the entrance, or exit, of the bar. Sam figured it was probably put there for the more polite people to at least wipe their feet off when they came in. Not only that, but the place wasn't just a bar. It was also a little restaurant. The restaurant side of the tavern was covered in deep red carpeting with an almost oriental-looking pattern scattered across it in different designs with many contrasting shades of green and gold. There were about six booths up against the wood paneling walls all the same color as the hardwood floors.

Scattered about neatly in the center of the restaurant were a few round tables with four chairs at each, and in the center of it all was a long table with ten chairs. There were four chairs on either side of the table and two on each end. The backs and seat cushions of the booths and chairs were the same gold as the main pattern on the carpeting. On the tabletops were small, crystal vases with the same red and yellow flowers Sam had seen outside of the bar. Pretty, floral designed light fixtures hung above the tables with dim light glowing down onto the tabletops.

There were a couple of waitresses wearing white, collared shirts, black skirts, black tights with their hair pulled back into buns and tied around their waists were little black aprons that Sam assumed was where they kept the tickets for taking orders as well as their tips, pens and anything else a waitress might need to carry. On the other side of the tavern was the bar. It was done up just as nicely as the restaurant side was, not too fancy but not too shabby either. To Sam, it was just right. It seemed like a really comfy little place and a nice hangout for people when they wanted to come in for a drink after work or take a friend or significant other out for a casual lunch or dinner date.

The bar itself was just as polished and shiny as the wooden floors, however the wood on this bar was lighter in color and had a more soft look to it than actual floors themselves, but the contrast of the floor and the bar made it work. The bar was a half square-shaped wrap-around. Sam wagered a guess at the front of the bar being about twelve feet long and each side of the bar to be about six feet long. There were eight barstools at the front of the bar, the cushions on the stool being the same gold as the cushions of the booths and seats in the restaurant area of the tavern. Leading up to the bar and wrapping around just like the bar itself did were a couple of steps, wooden just like the flooring. Above the bar hung the same attractive light fixtures There were a few pool tables which a man was currently shooting, some dart boards hanging up on the wall across the room and a foosball table in the center of it. There was a modern-day jukebox playing music. The bar was filled with the sound of billiard balls clanging against one another along with the music. Off to the side, Sam and Dean had spotted the doors to behind the actual bar itself. They reminded the brothers of some of those old-fashioned, wooden, double swing doors you'd see in the old western movies.

Behind the bar were tall shelves filled with all different sorts of alcoholic beverages ranging from bottles of wine, bottles of beer and bottles of hard liquour. There was also another shelf that held highball glasses, lowball glasses, wine glasses, slim champagne glasses, martini glasses, beer mugs, port and sherry glasses. There were two gentlemen sitting up at the bar chatting amongst one another, enjoying a beer, but what caught Sam's eye wasn't the men sitting at the bar, but the figure behind the bar. Long, layered cascades of dark hair fell down to the middle of her back in loose curls. Sam could tell she was most likely the bartender, otherwise she wouldn't be behind the bar.

His breath caught in his throat as she turned towards the two men conversing with one another, two more icy beer mugs clasped in her small, well manicured hands. She was smiling, her lips painted in a light color. The contrast of her teeth against her lips made them look almost stunningly white. He had honestly not seen such a beautiful girl in a very long time. No, Sam! No. Don't even go there. You know what'll happen if you do. The young hunter mentally slapped himself and tried to force his thoughts elsewhere, but as soon as he heard the sound of her voice it was hard trying to tear his eyes off of her. In a short span of time, he eventually managed to do it. My God was she attractive. The way she looked, the way she moved and the way she smiled.

"Here you go, guys. Just don't go drinking too much this early. I doubt you're going to want to get drunk on your lunch hour. The boss may have something to say about that when you head back to work," the girl laughed and brushed back some of the relaxed curls that had fallen into her eyes. She stood maybe 5'5 or 5'6, very slender, decently endowed with soft, pale green eyes. They seemed to twinkle as the two customers laughed along with her.

"Don't know what we'd do without you, darlin'," one of them chuckled as he patted her hand.

"You'd go back to work at 2pm in the afternoon drunk," the girl giggled once more before turning in Sam and Dean's direction who were now slowly approaching the bar. Dean stopped and nudged Sam playfully in the ribs with his elbow, also seeing that the girl had turned toward them, but hadn't yet noticed them. The could certainly see her better now, and Dean had also noticed how Sam couldn't take his eyes off of her there for a moment.

"What, Dean?" Sam whispered forcefully, teeth clenched and slightly inclined his head to look at his older brother. Dean had that look on his face. Oh god, how Sam despised that look. He knew what was coming and attempted to brace himself.

"I saw you," Dean began teasingly.

"You saw nothing," Sam responded coldly, turning away from his brother.

"Oh yes I did. Dude, you were checking her out and you know it," the older Winchester stated playfully.

"Dean, I wasn't checking her out. Let's just go and question these people about the disappearances and leave. We're here to work and not dick around," Sam reminded him, voice still cold.

"Good grief, maybe you need a drink. Might lighten you up some, Grinch," Dean grumbled at his younger brother. He sighed before continuing. "Sammy, how long have we been brothers for now, huh? I know you better than anybody, and I can also tell that you're attracted to her. That's not a bad thing, you know. Just because we're here on a job doesn't mean you can't have some fun in your life. I think after everything you've done you deserve at least that much. Have fun, Sam! Indulge yourself for once! Even if it's just a one night, one week or even a one month stand, at least you can say you had fun while you were working! C'mon Sammy, it'll be like the old times!" Dean insisted, but Sam would hear none of it.

'The younger Winchester just shook his head, brushing back some of the hair that had fallen into his eyes. "Look, Dean, we're not here for me to sit and hook up with some random chick and party. We're here to work and get to the bottom of this and find out exactly what is paranormal about these disappearances. So, let's get to work. Just forget it, brother. It's not happening, so just drop it, okay?" Sam stated with a finality in his low tones, trying to be as discreet as possible. The last thing he wanted was for anybody to notice him arguing with his brother.

"Alright, fine. Whatever. Have it your way then," Dean replied shrugging his shoulders in defeat. "All work and no play sure does make Sammy a very dull and pissy boy," he muttered as he began making his way to the front of the bar, closer to the men on the stools and the enticing bartender working behind it. Sam pretended not to hear Dean, straightening up his strong shoulders and reminding himself that he was here to do a job. Time to get professional.

The curly-haired beauty had grabbed a mug, a cloth and was drying off the inside of it, about to replace it onto the shelf as the Winchester brothers approached, postures straightened and looking austere. The two brothers stopped just at the set of stairs and looked straight towards the bartender. "Hmmm, we don't see many like you around here," the dark-haired girl observed, eyeing the brothers, her slender, lightly-tanned arms folded across her chest. They probably did look strangely out of place in their suits, but the brothers paid it no mind. Sam and Dean were used to this.

Dean was the first to speak, clearing his throat and taking out his fake FBI badge showing it to the girl, doing his best to act professional. "Yes, we're here on official business. We've recently been assigned to the missing persons' case. My name is Agent Henderson and this is my partner, Agent Thompson."

"We understand that the people who have gone missing were last seen here," Sam spoke up, his badge out and showing it to the attractive girl. Focus, Sam. Focus... "Might there be anything you can tell us about what happened?" he used his soft, gentle-like tones with her, unlike Dean's hardened and more serious ones. Sam found that if he kept it as un-intimidating as possible it was easier for the people they were questioning to answer them.

"FBI agents, huh? So the cops decided they couldn't do the job themselves and called in the FBI?" the girl replied imperatively, placing the mug back onto the shelf. She turned back towards the brothers, her hands on her hips. "So, what do you want to know then?"

Sam and Dean exchanged shocked glances. This one was going to be a feisty one. Sam could already tell just by her posture that she was stubborn and to him, that only made her all the more attractive and even in that bartender's outfit, sexy. Once more, he mentally smacked himself and continued to get back down to business, which Dean was already doing. "Well, as my partner has stated, from what we understand the people who've gone missing were last seen here in this bar. Maybe we can start with that?" Dean remarked a little more severely than usual, which of course Sam felt was completely unnecessary. He mentally rolled his eyes at his brother's attempt to be discreet and sarcastic at the same time.

"Well, the people you're referring to are all females. There were six of them and they were regulars that came around here mostly during the weekend nights with their boyfriends or husbands," the girl told them, hands still on her hips. "They've all been missing for about a week now and they disappeared within hours of each other. We're not sure where they've gone or what's happened to them. It was in the middle of the week so the place wasn't very busy. It was just like one moment they were here and then the next they weren't. Nobody even remembers them leaving, but they were here by themselves, I assume just having a girl's night out. Who knows," the girl shrugged her delicate shoulders.

"Hmm, interesting. And is that all you know then?" Dean questioned her, his eyes down on a small tablet of paper he'd pulled from his suit jacket, writing down what she'd said presumably.

The girl placed her hands on the bar and leaned towards Dean, a look of obvious distrust, or perhaps it was dislike, across her pretty features. "Yes, that's all I know," she told him, eyes piercing Dean's. She stood back up and folded her arms across her chest. "Is that it then, Agents? Because if it is, I really have to get back to work now. So, either sit down and have a drink or go to the local police station and question them. They're going to have a lot more answers than I will." The sarcasm was obvious and the two men at the bar were doing the best they could to suppress their laughter. She was definitely a fiery one.

"Alright then, we will, but just to let you know since those women were last seen here, everybody who works here and was in here that night is suspected, and so that my dear makes you a suspect. Get it?" the older Winchester replied darkly, a brusque smile on his face. He turned toward Sam, stuffing his little tablet back in his jacket pocket. "Let's go then," Dean beckoned Sam as he turned his back toward the girl and began strutting toward the exit.

Sam had stood for a moment and observed the girl silently as she spoke with his brother as well as after she'd finished, but something didn't seem placed quite right. She seemed to be hiding something. He didn't get the guilty vibe from her, but something just seemed...wrong. However, Sam didn't want to further pursue the matter with her since she was on the clock and working her shift. She was already irritated by Dean's attitude, and Sam made a mental note to slap his brother upside the head when he got back out to the car. The younger Winchester turned toward her and gave her one of his famous half-smiles, nodding his head politely. "Well, thank you for your time. We appreciate you filling us in. Hopefully we'll be able to find the missing women and bring them back safe and sound," Sam added with a reassuring tone.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," the girl told him, her voice softer now that Dean had left. "You know, you may want to consider telling your partner not to be so harsh and attempt at being intimidating when questioning people about his cases. He comes across as rather arrogant."

Sam made little effort to suppress a chuckle, his blue eyes meeting the girl's striking green ones. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that," he apologized, half laughing, on behalf of Dean's attitude. "Sometimes my partner gets a little too serious when we're on the job. I'm constantly reminding him to go a little easier on the people he questions, even if they're suspects or not. I planned on reeming him for the way he talked to you, anyway," Sam added. Dammit, Sam! No! Don't give her the wrong idea!

"Thanks," the girl laughed, and it sounded like music to Sam's ears.

"By the way, I didn't catch your name," the hunter asked her, the smile still on his face. He felt his heart flutter excitedly in his chest. This was definitely not a good sign. He needed to stop while he was ahead. Why on earth did he have to ask her name? Was it necessary?

She politely extended her small hand out toward Sam, flashed him a shy, toothy smile. "It's Hayley," she told him. He reached his own hand out, clasping it gently. Her hand felt warm and soft in his own. His heart did that familiar leap again at the touch of her skin against his. Oh no no no...not good. This is not good. I need to stop. I can't let this go any further. I'm not allowing myself to do this. "You can call me Sam," he told her, completely not meaning to, but for some reason he just couldn't control himself. Much to Sam Winchester's own disappointment, they released hands. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Sam," Hayley stated, still smiling. "Nicer meeting you than your partner anyway. You're a lot more kind than he is."

Sam let slip an amused chuckle once more before dipping his hand into his suit jacket pocket. "Oh, before I forget," he pulled out a business card. "Keep this with you. It has my number on it. If you need anything at all, just call and you'll reach me, not my partner. I promise."

"Thanks, Sam," Hayley replied sweetly, flashing him another one of her dynamic smiles. "I really hope to see you around more," she added before tossing her loose curls over her shoulder and turning back towards the glasses needing put back where they usually belong.

"I'm sure I'll be back," the younger Winchester told her assuringly. Hayley looked back over her shoulder, and they locked eyes for another moment before he casually waved a hand, turned and headed towards the exit, his heart pounding wildly in his chest. It's been a long time since a girl had affected him like this. Sam pulled open the door, somewhat in a daze until he spotted Dean sitting impatiently in the driver's seat of the Impala, his wrist sloped over the steering wheel. Sam immediately felt composure return to him and he marched his way to the car, opened up the passenger-side door and seated himself, slamming the door behind him. The man turned to glare at his older brother. Dean started to open his mouth, but Sam raised a large hand, stopping Dean before he could say anything, and smacked his older brother in the back of the head, thin eyebrows furrowed in irritation.

"What the hell was that for!?" Dean shouted at his younger brother, rubbing the back of his head, his green eyes wide.

"Why do you always have to be such a douchebag?" Sam demanded in a disgusted voice. "I mean was there some reason why you were trying to be an intimidating jerk to her?" Emphasis could be heard in Sam's voice.

"Haha, well, I guess I just didn't like the chick's attitude with me," Dean replied, folding his arms over his chest looking haughty. "What's with you being all defensive of her all of a sudden? I thought you weren't interested," Dean mimicked his younger brother.

"No more than she appreciated you being sarcastic with her, Dean," Sam retorted in clipped tones, ignoring Dean's last question. "Next time we go in there, how about being a little more casual instead of trying to act like you're an actual agent, huh?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean shot back, eyebrows lifted in distinct curiosity.

"You're not even a real FBI agent, Dean! You can't just sit there and accuse her of being a suspect. I know she didn't do it. I could tell by the look in her eyes. She doesn't even seem the type. I've been around the bend and back when it comes to people like this. I can't see how a small girl like Hayley could suddenly make six women mysteriously disappear just because they happen to hang out in the same bar she works at," Sam articulated, not pausing to notice the now smug expression on his brother's face.

"Hayley huh?" Dean inquired, giving off a half-smile and sliding his eyes towards his brother. He turned the key in the ignition and started up the Impala. "Pretty name for a pretty girl. And here I thought you weren't interested."

"Oh hell, so I got her name. It's not like I threw her down on the bar and started making out with her, Dean," the younger Winchester retaliated verbally.

"Yeah, and I'm sure you fantasized about that too," the older brother spoke under his breath, hopefully quiet enough that Sam couldn't hear him, but it was obvious he did.

Sam just sighed and rolled his eyes, lightly shaking his head. "Just shut up and drive."

Sam watched as Dean just laughed at him, and he too shook his head in what could only be apparent disbelief, putting the car into drive. "Next stop, Whitehall Police Station. We'll discuss this Hayley girl later."

Sam could feel the annoyance with his older brother rolling off of him in waves, but he had to admit Dean did have a point. Try as he might to deny to himself that he didn't like this girl, he did. If he didn't want to get her hurt, then Sam was going to have to do everything in his power not to let anything get further with her than just a handshake. He decided right then and there that that's what he was going to do. No way in hell was Sam Winchester going to allow himself to fall in love again. He wasn't going to risk the innocent girl getting hurt or worse...Not this time.

Chapter Three: Missing Pieces to the Puzzle

The smug smirking never left Dean Winchester's face as he effortlessly cruised the black '67 Impala down the jagged, potholed asphalt of the street. "You know, they could really stand to fix this road. It's killing her tires," Dean openly complained, eyes not leaving the street. "I'm sorry, baby. I know you hate it when I have to drive you down these kinds of roads," the older brother cooed to his car as if it were a living thing. Usually Sam would have a sarcastic comeback, but instead he averted his gaze from his brother's face, really not even wanting to bother because he knew exactly what was on the older Winchester's mind anyway. Dean was just using his car as an excuse to get Sam to talk. Truthfully the last thing Sam wanted to do was even remotely discuss Hayley with his older brother because Sam knew that Dean was just going to goad him, tease him and poke fun about it. No matter what he said or did, Sam wasn't about to let Dean get to him, but try as he might his older brother was getting to him, and he could feel aggravation slowly building up in small waves.

Hayley wasn't anybody special anyway, right? She was just a regular, pretty girl. No, she was more than pretty. She was gorgeous, but Sam had seen a lot of good-looking girls over the years, and he'd never pursued anything with them. He was allowed to be attracted to girls, right? It didn't have to mean anything, did it? I mean it's not like he was getting down on one knee and proposing to the girl. Hell, all they did was shake hands anyway, so why did Dean have to be so damned obnoxious about the whole situation? He always got like this when it came to a girl liking Sam or vice versa. Sam could feel himself getting irritated all over again, and so he tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck and rolled his large shoulders, but that didn't seem to help compose the young hunter. He clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to do something to relax himself because he could feel the disdainful haughtiness just flowing off of Dean. Sam sighed and leaned his head back against the seat and closed his sea-blue eyes against the brilliance of the sun shining through the windshield, attempting to clear his overburdened mind.

Dean casually glanced over at his younger brother, one eyebrow raised. "Okay, what is your problem, Sam? You've not been able to sit still for the last five minutes. You keep fidgiting and moving around. Do you need me to pull over so you can take a piss break or something?"

The young Winchester sat up in his seat now, clenching his teeth and trying not to explode, but the irritation was escalating into anger now, and he could feel his clenched fists beginning to tremble. Truthfully, Sam didn't have a clue as to why he was feeling so angry. Maybe it was just because he knew Dean was going to start prodding him about Hayley any moment now, and that was the last thing he wanted, or his older brother may just end up finding a fist in his face. Sam sighed hard, lowering his head and running both of his large hands through his lengthy, dark locks. He lifted his head, brushing back the annoying bits of hair that had bad habits of falling into his eyes.

"Dude, no. I don't need to take a piss break. I need you to just get us to the damned police station," Sam snapped, turning his head and staring stonily out of his window. "I know what you're gonna say, Dean, and I don't even want to hear it. We've got a lot of other stuff to worry about here anyway, so just don't, okay?" Sam paused for a moment, waiting to see if his brother was going to respond. Dean sat quietly in the driver's seat, driving his car with ease and seemed to be listening.

When he didn't speak up, Sam just continued spilling out everything that had all of a sudden decided to build up in his chest like a ton of bricks. The younger Winchester didn't understand why he was feeling this, and quite frankly it was frustrating albiet disturbing. Truthfully, if Sam had his way about it, they'd leave. However he knew his brother and he knew there was no getting out of this one. That didn't matter, though. He was still going to spill his guts, because if he didn't, Sam wasn't sure what his pent up rage might do. He still scared himself after everything he'd been through, and so the younger Winchester brother found it better to get stuff off of his chest right then and there, especially if he was feeling angry. Sam still never knew what he might be capable of. He didn't know if any of Lucifer's darkness may still continue to linger within him, and the mere thought that it might sickened him.

"We need to go talk to the police about these disappearances," Sam began, trying to stay calm, but it was obvious this wasn't going to happen. He could feel the animosity building up in him like a raging storm. "We need to find out if there's anything that even remotely links them and what it could be. Hell, Dean. We don't even know if any of this is even paranormal! I mean, this may be a completely pointless trip and a waste of gas and miles," the younger Winchester went off on a tangent, not able to control himself now. "I mean what evidence have we even seen so far that suggests this could even be paranormal? You know, maybe Bobby was wrong for once? So he tipped us off about a case, so what? He didn't even specify how it could even remotely be something supernatural. I mean what the hell is that? He just up and gives us an address and tells us to go check it out without any explanation, and we just hop into the car and go?" Sam huffed. "It's just like when Dad was alive," he added quietly under his breath.

Dean's green eyes widened ever so slightly in surprise at his younger brother's momentary diatribe. "Whoa, okay Sam. First of all? You need to calm the hell down," the older Winchester replied, his voice had lost it's playful edge. It was hardened and serious now. " Second of all, Bobby didn't give specifics because he felt we were more than capable of handling this ourselves. So, now are you saying that you're not able, Sammy? Huh? I mean c'mon now. Since when did we have to know every little detail of a hunt to find out what's going on? How does that make it any different from us helping and saving people's lives? There's a reason it's called 'hunting' or have you forgotten already? Tell me, Sam, because I'm dying to know," Dean snapped back, glancing back and forth swiftly from the road to his little brother.

Sam just stared at Dean looking a bit sheepish. Honestly, he didn't really think of that. Then again, this was only maybe the third hunt the brothers had been on since he'd been back from Hell. It was taking a little time to get back into the swing of things. The young hunter felt slightly guilty now for his outburst, but didn't voice it so.

"Seriously man, what has got you so worked up anyway?" Dean's eyebrows furrowed in thought as he studied Sam. "It can't be that Hayley girl, can't it? I mean re-," but Dean was cut off.

"DON'T even mention her, Dean. Alright? This has nothing to do with her, so...you know what? Nevermind. Just drop it," Sam sighed, clearly still somewhat miffed and shook his head.

"Yeah right, Sam," Dean retorted, rolling his eyes. "Seriously, get your head out of your ass for a moment and stop being in denial all the time. Besides that, you need to just take a deep breath and chill anyway. Put your game face on because we're here, and I'm sure the last thing the police are going to want to deal with is a pissy, 6'4 tall FBI Agent."

"Fine, whatever," Sam scowled in his deep tones, as Dean slowly pulled the Impala up in front of the small building. There was no point in arguing anyway. He might as well just focus on his work now.

The police department wasn't very big. It was a brick building, fading in color, and it seemed to be a bit old. There were some cracks in the bricks as if the building were slowly beginning to delapidate but nothing to the extreme as of yet. Above the door was a long slab of gray concrete with the words Police Station in black, dull lettering. Each black letter looked as though it were nailed on individually. There were two, square-shaped poles holding up the slab of concrete made of the same brick the building was. The poles also held a small porch-like roof over the entrance to the police station. It reminded Sam of the older buildings from maybe back in the '30s or so, but at the same time a tad more modern. The two brothers made their way inside of the building and came face to face with a female officer sitting at a thick, black, metal desk, filling paperwork and not looking happy about it, but in fact rather annoyed she was there.

"Good afternoon, ma'am," began Dean as he approached the desk, pulling out his FBI badge. "My name's Agent Henderson. My partner and I are here to discuss the six females who've just recently gone missing. Might there be any officers assigned to the case in at the moment?"

The female officer huffed an agitated sigh, brushing back a few strands of blonde hair, that had come loose from her bun, out her face and looked up at the Winchesters. "No, I'm sorry," she began in a not so polite tone. "But nobody is currently in at this time. I'm the only one here and as you can see, I'm not working any cases. No, I'm sitting here at a desk filing paperwork for the other officers and separating case files for them when I should be on the field," the woman spoke sharply.

"I take it you don't like your desk job?" Dean attempted slight humor by tossing a little laugh in with his words, but the blonde officer didn't find it amusing in the least.

She raised a thin, blonde eyebrow and glared upward at them. "What was your first guess, Sherlock?" she replied with non-discreet sarcasm.

"Ah, we are very sorry about your unfortunate working situation, ma'am," the younger Winchester began, folding his hands in front of him and doing his best to attempt being sympathetic towards her. "We are hoping that maybe you could help us yourself. Would you happen to know any information at all regarding this missing person's case that you can fill us in on? Perhaps you might know something about these women that have gone missing."

"I'm sorry, Agent," the woman told him, shaking her head and tone not changing. "I don't know a thing. All I know is that they have search warrants out on the case and that's it. I have their case files here, but I've not gone through them because that's not my place apparently. And why shouldn't it be? I'm the one who sits here on my ass filing this crap for them all day."

"Oh you do have them?" Sam asked, blue eyes wide, trying to ignore the officer's ranting. He pulled on his best puppy dog-eyed expression which usually got him what he wanted. "That's actually great! Do you think perhaps you could make us a quick copy of those, please? It'd be so much easier to work on this investigation if we can see those case files. Maybe it'll give us a better idea of where to begin. If you could help us with that, it'd be wonderful, and I'll be sure to put in a good word to your superior about you for the help you've provided us, Officer Casey" he added, flashing a toothy smile at her and eyeing the little name badge she had pinned to her uniform.

The female officer seemed taken aback by Sam's forwardness. "Well, I've never had an FBI Agent be so kind to me," she told him, her voice softer now, and she even sounded somewhat flattered. "Usually they're so haughty and rude. I apologize for my own rudeness. Certainly, Agents. I'll make copies of these right away." Casey slid her chair out from under her desk and opened up a filing cabinet, rummaging through one manilla folder after another. "Aha, here we go!" She tugged the folder out of the cabinet, made her way over to the copying machine and proceeded to make copies of all the paperwork, involving the case, for the brothers.

Dean nudged Sam gently with his elbow and gave him an approving grin. "Puppy eyes and compliments work everytime, Sammy," he whispered. Sam couldn't help but half-grin back and shake his head lightly, somewhat amused by himself. After a few minutes, Casey had finished copying the many papers, gathered up the files that were needed and put them into a new folder for the brothers.

"Here you go," she told Sam sweetly, handing him the folder. "I, uh, really hope this works for you, Agents. I also really hope it helps you solve the case." Sam accepted the folder from her, but he didn't miss the woman trying to lightly touch his hand as he took it from her.

Sam cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable by this lady's evident flirting, and he nodded politely. "Yeah, umm, thanks for this, Casey. I'll be sure to let your superior know about you," he reiterated confidently, before turning tail and heading out of the door as quick as he could and ahead of his brother. Dean just smiled his goofy smile, waved at her in thanks and followed Sam out of the police station. The Winchesters got back into the car, but Dean didn't miss a chance to tease his younger brother.

"Man, every since you got back from the pit you sure have been a chick magnet!" Sam, turned toward Dean and put on his best bitchface at his older brother. "Jealous?" Sam inquired, raising an eyebrow.

Dean snorted and tossed his head upward arrogantly. "Me? Jealous? Yeah right," he shot back.

"Yeah, whatever. You just keep telling yourself that, Dean," Sam scoffed as he clutched the folder in his hands, waiting anxiously to get back to the motel so he could get out of his uncomfortable suit, get out his laptop and start researching these missing women.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''

Before long, the brothers were back in their room. Sam was stretched out across his bed, back in his casual button-down shirt and jeans, with his laptop in front of him and the casework papers spread out across the bed in front of him as well. He was studying all the paperwork and had old newspapers pulled up on a local website, searching. He was reading down through about the third page of the paperwork, when he let out an inaudible gasp. "Hey Dean, c'mere for a second," he beckoned for his older brother who was immersed in something on TV. Sam didn't care to find out what it was. He'd just found, what he thought, was some pretty substantial evidence.

"I was reading through the paperwork and it says here that all six of these women all had significant others. Four of them are engaged and two of them are married. It says here that these women, along with their partners, are also regulars at Angel Tavern. They've been going there for quite a few years to just eat dinner or gave a drink at the bar. According to this file, it says that they're good friends with the bar owner, Keith Heidegger. What do you think? Do you think maybe this might have some significance?" Sam questioned, looking up at Dean who was standing above him, gazing down at the papers, hands shoved in his jean pockets, brows furrowed in thought.

"Hmm, well since your little girlfriend failed to leave out these tiny details, I'd say so. I mean, it could just be a coincidence, though," Dean replied thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "Maybe we should take a swing by the bar tonight and have a chat with some of the locals about them? Just learn some further information and stuff."

"I don't think it's the case that Hayley left out any details, Dean," Sam found himself defending her again, along with ignoring the girlfriend comment. "I think it's more that this is all overwhelming for her, and she really only mentioned what she felt was necessary. Dude, Hayley's a bartender. She's not an officer or anything like that. I doubt the last thing on her mind was any specific details about the women."

"Well, alright then. Let's wait until this evening, and we'll take a cruise out there. I'm not sure how busy it'll be tonight since it's in the middle of the week, but maybe there'll be a couple of people in there that might know something," Dean stated. "It's a start anyway, right?"

"Right," replied Sam, not exactly paying full attention. His eyes were focused on his laptop screen, and he was once more delved back into his research, hoping to possibly find more answers as to why these women have mysteriously disappeared without a trace and also hoping he'd be able to find them alive.

''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''''
Hayley was all alone at the bar. Customers had left for the afternoon and people were back at work. The only others that were there with her were the waitresses, the cook and the dishwasher, but they all worked in the restaurant side of the tavern. They weren't allowed near the bar or behind it unless getting a drink to serve to somebody that was dining. The dark haired girl sighed as she finished putting away all the clean mugs and glasses, and she wiped down the bar with her cloth for what seemed to be the upteenth time today. It couldn't possibly get anymore shiny. What an interesting day it had been so far. She'd only been on her shift for a few hours, but luck had had it in for her today. She was lucky enough to meet a very handsome and sweet FBI agent by the name of Sam Thompson. Every since he'd left the bar, Hayley hadn't been able to get him out of her mind. She tucked a hand into her apron and swept her fingers across the business card once more that Sam had given her, hoping that it wasn't a dream.

"I'm just being silly," she'd told herself for the third time today. "I mean, how can I have feelings for a man I just met?"

Hayley laughed at herself, brushing some of her loose, dark curls back over her shoulder and looked at the wine shelves. She really did need to go down to the wine cellar and grab a couple of bottles. They were in need of Riesling and Zinfandel, but the girl could feel dread slowly beginning to creep down her spine. She absolutely despised going down to the wine cellar, especially by herself. There was just something that was entirely creepy about going down those stairs and the room?

Sometimes Hayley swore that somebody was in there with her watching her or following her around. Once she was back upstairs though, she would laugh at herself and just assume it was her imagination or her mind playing tricks on her. The lovely bartender placed her hands on her hips and sighed, still gazing up at the empty wine shelves. "Keith would be pissed if I didn't go down there," she told herself sighing, running her fingertips over her forehead in defeat.

"HEY MIKE!" Hayley called out towards the kitchen area.

"YO!" a deep, male voice called back.

"I'M HEADING DOWN TO THE WINE CELLAR! COULD YOU SEND TERESA OUT TO KEEP AN EYE ON THE BAR?" Hayley yelled back, hands cupped around her mouth.

"SURE THING, HONEY!" Mike answered.

Within two minutes, a petite girl with white-blonde hair and protuberant brown eyes came running up to the bar area with a smile on her face. "Hey there, Hayley!" she panted as she approached the brunette. "What's up?"

"Hey, Terese. I just need you to keep an eye on the bar for me. In case any customers come in, just let them know I had to run down to the cellar and grab some wine. We're all out of Riesling and Zinfandel up front. I might need to grab a couple more bottles of Tequila and Jack," she added smiling at the blonde girl. "Let them know I'll be right back."

"Sure thing!" Teresa replied back enthusiastically and seated herself on one of the bar stools while Hayley began making her way to the back of the tavern towards a wooden door.

She pulled out a set of keys and unlocked it. If Hayley had her way about it, she would avoiding going down there at all costs, but unfortunately Keith or any of the other bartenders weren't here, and so she was on her own. Lacey wouldn't be in until later tonight anyway, and the last thing Hayley wanted was for Lacey to bitch at her for not having the shelves stocked. The girl drew in a deep breath and opened up the door. She was engulfed by extremely cold air, and she felt the goosebumps swiftly make their appearance across her skin. Hayley shivered, hugging herself as she flipped on the dim light and began slowly making her way down the narrow, rickety wooden staircase. The further down she got, the more unsettled Hayley began feeling. As she approached the bottom of the stairs and found herself in the wine cellar room, it only seemed to get colder.

Her light green eyes scanned the room, searching for the cases of wine and hard liquor. The bartender tried her best to stay focused, but that feeling was coming back. It felt like somebody was down there with her, watching her every movement. Her shoes clicked loudly echoing across the cold, stone floor of the cellar as she made her way to the cases of wine when she heard a strange noise come from behind her. It almost sounded like a whimpering groan. Hayley gasped, whirling around to see where the sound had come from, but there was nothing there she could see that might make that kind of noise.

The girl took a few deep breaths to calm herself, and she ran her fingers through her hair, lightly raking her nails against her scalp. Her heart was positively hammering against her ribcage. "Alright Hayley, calm down, girl," she told herself. "There's nothing down here. It's just your mind playing tricks on you. That's all." Hayley sucked in a tremulous breath, and when she released it she could see it. Wait, what? How on earth was that possible? The temperature had dropped down to almost freezing, like cold, icy, winter temperatures and she shivered all over, but the girl couldn't tell if it were from fear or being cold. Maybe it was a mixture of both. Then out of nowhere, she felt something freezing, grasp her shoulder. It felt almost like a hand and like her entire shoulder had been doused with ice-cold water and once more, she heard a strange sound, only this time it sounded like a gurgling discord. Hayley froze with fear, not being able to move and let out a blood-curdling scream.

Though her screams, she heard the door that lead to the wine cellar burst open and slam against the wall, followed by the sounds of heavy footsteps thundering down the stairs at break-neck speed, but she still couldn't move. The coldness vanished from her shoulder and the gurgling sound dissapated, which was replaced with two warm hands grabbing her shoulders and turning her around.

"Hayley!?" cried out Sam, who large hands were gripping the girl's frail shoulders. "Are you alright!? What just happened!?"

Dean thundered in behind him, gun out and pointing it in every direction he could execute. Whatever was down here, it would either be Sam or Dean to waste it. No way were they about to let another innocent girl be taken, hurt or possibly even worse than that.

"Sam!" cried Hayley, relief flowing through her tones. She unexpectedly threw her arms around him and began clinging to him for dear life. Sam felt his face burn from blushing, but he tried to ignore it and wrapped his arms back around the girl, just for comfort. Nothing else. Though he couldn't ignore the fluttering sensation in his chest.

"Hey, are you alright? Let's get you out of here. You can tell me what happened once we get back upstairs, okay?" Sam told her softly, gently prying the girl from his body.

It was Hayley's turn to blush as she realized what she'd done. She'd just grabbed him, completely unaware of what she was doing. She was just grateful that somebody had come down here. Hayley knew she wasn't imagining that cold feeling. There was no way her mind could play on tricks on her to such an extent, could it? However, she chose not to tell the brothers what happened. Instead, she faked it all. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" She quickly let go of Sam and turned away from him, completely embarrassed by herself. "I just, got really scared!" Hayley laughed nervously. "I thought I heard something. It was probably just a rat or something totally insignificant. I'm perfectly fine!"

"It's obvious you're not perfectly fine," Dean stated as he lowered his gun, eyes narrowed and darting all over the room. "What were you doing down here by yourself anyway?"

"Oh, I...well, I had to come down here and get a few bottles of wine and some liquor that we're running short on," Hayley attempted to explain. "There wasn't anybody else here that works in the bar area. Only the bartenders are allowed to come down here or be behind the bar, and I really don't want Lacey to bitch at me, and...," she paused when she realized she was rambling. Hayley buried her face in her palm. "I'm so sorry. I just got freaked out over nothing. I didn't mean for you guys to come down here. I wasn't in any danger or anything," Hayley laughed at herself again, and turned towards a case of wine. She grabbed two bottles of Riesling and two of Zinfandel. She walked towards the hard liquor and went to grab a bottle of Tequila and Jack, when Sam placed his hand over hers gripping the bottle.

"Here, let me help," Sam offered softly, taking the bottles of Tequila and Jack for her. "You don't want to carry too much. You might drop them." What was he doing? Things weren't supposed to go like this.

"Look, I really do appreciate you guys coming down here, but I'm fine. Really. I promise," the girl insisted as she began walking back up the stairs, clutching the wine bottles in her arms. Though the truth was she really wasn't fine, but she didn't want to make herself look like a complete fool in front of Sam. What if he thought she were crazy? That'd go over well. Sam! A cold hand grabbed my shoulder and I heard a gurgly noise! I'm scared! Yeah...that'd go over extremely well. Hayley sighed, rolling her eyes at her own stupidity and shook back her dark curls as she found herself back up at the top of the stairs. Sam was close behind her and Dean not too far behind.

Sam and Dean exchanged worried glances knowing that something was definitely not right, and Hayley was definitely keeping something from them. The two followed her back up the stairs and back out to the bar area. Hopefully tonight, they would find some answers, but it just seemed like more and more pieces of the puzzles were missing.