Post by silent.lullaby on Oct 24, 2009 15:12:09 GMT -5
Sweeter Than Heaven [Supernatural] Hotter Than Hell (4) Unsafe Safe
Dressed in a silver halter top and a pair of black skinny jeans and my favourite pair of brown leather knee highs with a two inch heal, I tousled my hair. I typically kept it straight, usually in a low pony tail to keep it from getting in my eyes, but tonight it was in waves and curls and gave me more of a party girl look. I quickly applied mascara and heard Gabriel shouting at me to hurry up. I quickly ran a clear gloss over my lips and exited the attached bathroom.
“About time,” Gabriel muttered. He was dressed in a white collared top, a pair of black slacks and sensible shoes, his dark hair was messy and stuck up in random directions.
“Moving your hair around and taking off your jacket and tie just make you look like you’re a fed that had a hard day.” Gabriel shrugged and I sighed. “Seriously Gabriel, you can’t eavesdrop if you don’t blend into your surroundings.”
“You said the waitress said it was a quiet bar. Not a dance club.” Gabriel stared at me with hardened eyes and I threw up my hands giving up the argument. “You have your weapons?” I nodded, I had my glittering blue broken butterfly knife tucked into my right boot just out of sight, and a small vile of holy water tucked in the middle of my bra. I didn’t expect trouble, and there weren’t a lot of places I could hide any of my guns. I watched as Gabriel shoved one of his switchblades into his pant pocket and a small vile of salt into the other. “Got the keys?” I grabbed them from the stand and shook them, the keys tinkling as they collided with each other. “Lets head out.”
As it turned out, there were two quiet bars on the east side on opposite corners. “I’ll take Hair of the Dog, and you take Margaritaville,” Gabriel said as he stepped onto the sidewalk. I nodded and headed to the right while he went left.
When I got to the door of Margaritaville I peered in the window, but the dark, smoky atmosphere made it to difficult to see who, if anyone, was inside. I bent down and pretended to scratch my leg while I was actually assuring myself my knife was still in place. Happy to see it hadn’t budged one bit I took the last few steps and pushed the door open.
Country music was playing softly, there were a few macho men playing pool who immediately turned to me when they heard the tinkling bell above the door. I heard a soft wolf whistle and I stepped toward the bar. I didn’t see the blonde waitress, nor the two men she had been talking to.
“What can I getcha?” The bartender asked as he dried a margarita glass before hanging it up above the bar.
“A Jack and Coke please,” I responded and he nodded. I pulled out my bulky black phone and used speed dial to contact my brother, he answered on the second ring. “Ain’t here,” was all I said.
“Here neither, did we miss one?”
The bartender put the Jack and Coke in front of me and I pushed a ten in front of him. “How many bars are there on this side of town?” I asked him covering the speaker at the bottom of my phone.
“Why? You lookin’ to put one here?”
I raised an eyebrow, “no, I’m just suppose to meet with a couple of friends,” I responded, “I’m wondering if they went to the wrong bar.”
“Oh,” he responded, “there is just me here and the Hair of the Dog down the street. It’ll be quiet tonight there...”
“Why is that?”
“Oh, tonight is Fight Night here. We get most of our customers here around nine thirty, just missing the rush.” I nodded and thanked him and when he turned around I uncovered the speaker.
“I’ll be there in a few,” I hung up the phone and shoved it back in my pocket before quickly swigging back my Jack and Coke.
I hopped off the barstool and bumped into one of the macho men who’d been playing pool. He dressed poorly, jeans stained with oil and a worn grey shirt. He reeked of Gin, he reached for me and I quickly sidestepped, the stumbling fool caught his balance on the barstool and I stepped out into the cool air. October was nearing an end. I didn’t know wether to dread Halloween or look forward to it at this point. Colourful leaves whirled in the wind as I walked down the street.
Stepping into the Hair of the Dog I immediately looked around for my brother. I didn’t see him. In fact, I didn’t see anyone and a shiver went down my spine the hairs prickled at the back of my neck. I reached down and grabbed my broken butterfly knife clicking the end the two ‘wings’ flipping apart I whirled it and the two wings became the handle and the silver blade stuck out five inches. It was my largest knife and since I didn’t have a gun, I was grateful to have it.
My heals clicked on the checkered linoleum. My curls bounced and I felt silly with them now, a sensible bun or ponytail would be more beneficiary in a fight, I pushed a curl out of my eye and ground my teeth together. If anything happened to Gabriel... I shook my head, I couldn’t think about that right now. I peered over the bar, no one, nothing but booze and cigars. “Son of a bitch,” I muttered. It was damn unsettling to be in the empty establishment. “Gabe?” I whispered as loud as I dared. I wanted Gabriel to hear me, not a demon. “Gabe?” I tried again looking around in the booths. I soothed my fears with the knowledge that Gabriel was the best hunter I knew. Better than... I shook my head again, I needed to find my brother, not think about the past. I heard a click of a gun and whirled around.
“What did you do with Sam?” The man was taller than me by at least four inches, spiky milk chocolate coloured hair, intense hazel eyes, brown leather jacket over a grew t-shirt, and dark washed blue jeans. He was undoubtedly the man from the diner.
I stared down the gun, he was far enough back that if I charged him, I would probably be shot. I put my hands up slightly holding my knife between my index finger and thumb just dangling it, I was skilled enough to have it back in my palm in a fraction of a second yet I didn’t want to seem like any kind of threat. “I don’t know a Sam,” I responded, “I’m here looking for my brother, Gabriel.”
He stared me down, “oh really?”
“Uh, yeah, really.” I responded biting my tongue after. Sometimes I couldn’t help but be sarcastic at the worst possible time.
“And what are you going to do with that?” He waved the gun pointing at my knife. “Bringing a knife to a gun fight?”
“Nothing wrong with a girl protecting herself,” I responded.
He huffed, and slowly put his weapon to his side. “Have you seen anyone here?”
I shook my head also lowering my hands and whirling the knife back into my grip. “I was just talking to him not more than ten minutes ago on the phone.” I felt my jaw tightening as my teeth clamped together.
“Yeah, I went out to get something from my car, came back in, everyone just gone. Not that there were many people to begin with, just a few of my friends, my brother, and well... I assume the one ordering Canadian beer was your brother?”
“He only drinks Canadian,” I responded quietly.
“We’ll find them, I’m Dean Winchester by the way,” he stuck out his hand to me.
I looked at it for a second before tossing my knife to my opposite hand so I could shake his hand. “Audrey Lutrelli,” I responded. “Who were your friends?”
“Jo and her mother Ellen Harvelle who was workin’ the bar. They needed our help on a...” Dean froze and looked away.
“A hunt?”
He whirled back on me and pointed the gun at my head, “how’d you know?”
I threw up my hands with a slight grin. “I’m a hunter too, doesn’t take me long to put two and two together,” I responded. “I’ve got all the fake ID’s to prove it.” He gave a slight grin, it dropped from his face quickly when we heard a gunshot in the back alleyway.
“Stay back,” he told me, “you ain’t going to do much damage with that little knife.”
As much as I hated admitting it, he was right and I knew it. I kept a few steps back and he paused at the door, hand on the knob, he looked to me and counted to three before we busted out.
Dressed in a silver halter top and a pair of black skinny jeans and my favourite pair of brown leather knee highs with a two inch heal, I tousled my hair. I typically kept it straight, usually in a low pony tail to keep it from getting in my eyes, but tonight it was in waves and curls and gave me more of a party girl look. I quickly applied mascara and heard Gabriel shouting at me to hurry up. I quickly ran a clear gloss over my lips and exited the attached bathroom.
“About time,” Gabriel muttered. He was dressed in a white collared top, a pair of black slacks and sensible shoes, his dark hair was messy and stuck up in random directions.
“Moving your hair around and taking off your jacket and tie just make you look like you’re a fed that had a hard day.” Gabriel shrugged and I sighed. “Seriously Gabriel, you can’t eavesdrop if you don’t blend into your surroundings.”
“You said the waitress said it was a quiet bar. Not a dance club.” Gabriel stared at me with hardened eyes and I threw up my hands giving up the argument. “You have your weapons?” I nodded, I had my glittering blue broken butterfly knife tucked into my right boot just out of sight, and a small vile of holy water tucked in the middle of my bra. I didn’t expect trouble, and there weren’t a lot of places I could hide any of my guns. I watched as Gabriel shoved one of his switchblades into his pant pocket and a small vile of salt into the other. “Got the keys?” I grabbed them from the stand and shook them, the keys tinkling as they collided with each other. “Lets head out.”
As it turned out, there were two quiet bars on the east side on opposite corners. “I’ll take Hair of the Dog, and you take Margaritaville,” Gabriel said as he stepped onto the sidewalk. I nodded and headed to the right while he went left.
When I got to the door of Margaritaville I peered in the window, but the dark, smoky atmosphere made it to difficult to see who, if anyone, was inside. I bent down and pretended to scratch my leg while I was actually assuring myself my knife was still in place. Happy to see it hadn’t budged one bit I took the last few steps and pushed the door open.
Country music was playing softly, there were a few macho men playing pool who immediately turned to me when they heard the tinkling bell above the door. I heard a soft wolf whistle and I stepped toward the bar. I didn’t see the blonde waitress, nor the two men she had been talking to.
“What can I getcha?” The bartender asked as he dried a margarita glass before hanging it up above the bar.
“A Jack and Coke please,” I responded and he nodded. I pulled out my bulky black phone and used speed dial to contact my brother, he answered on the second ring. “Ain’t here,” was all I said.
“Here neither, did we miss one?”
The bartender put the Jack and Coke in front of me and I pushed a ten in front of him. “How many bars are there on this side of town?” I asked him covering the speaker at the bottom of my phone.
“Why? You lookin’ to put one here?”
I raised an eyebrow, “no, I’m just suppose to meet with a couple of friends,” I responded, “I’m wondering if they went to the wrong bar.”
“Oh,” he responded, “there is just me here and the Hair of the Dog down the street. It’ll be quiet tonight there...”
“Why is that?”
“Oh, tonight is Fight Night here. We get most of our customers here around nine thirty, just missing the rush.” I nodded and thanked him and when he turned around I uncovered the speaker.
“I’ll be there in a few,” I hung up the phone and shoved it back in my pocket before quickly swigging back my Jack and Coke.
I hopped off the barstool and bumped into one of the macho men who’d been playing pool. He dressed poorly, jeans stained with oil and a worn grey shirt. He reeked of Gin, he reached for me and I quickly sidestepped, the stumbling fool caught his balance on the barstool and I stepped out into the cool air. October was nearing an end. I didn’t know wether to dread Halloween or look forward to it at this point. Colourful leaves whirled in the wind as I walked down the street.
Stepping into the Hair of the Dog I immediately looked around for my brother. I didn’t see him. In fact, I didn’t see anyone and a shiver went down my spine the hairs prickled at the back of my neck. I reached down and grabbed my broken butterfly knife clicking the end the two ‘wings’ flipping apart I whirled it and the two wings became the handle and the silver blade stuck out five inches. It was my largest knife and since I didn’t have a gun, I was grateful to have it.
My heals clicked on the checkered linoleum. My curls bounced and I felt silly with them now, a sensible bun or ponytail would be more beneficiary in a fight, I pushed a curl out of my eye and ground my teeth together. If anything happened to Gabriel... I shook my head, I couldn’t think about that right now. I peered over the bar, no one, nothing but booze and cigars. “Son of a bitch,” I muttered. It was damn unsettling to be in the empty establishment. “Gabe?” I whispered as loud as I dared. I wanted Gabriel to hear me, not a demon. “Gabe?” I tried again looking around in the booths. I soothed my fears with the knowledge that Gabriel was the best hunter I knew. Better than... I shook my head again, I needed to find my brother, not think about the past. I heard a click of a gun and whirled around.
“What did you do with Sam?” The man was taller than me by at least four inches, spiky milk chocolate coloured hair, intense hazel eyes, brown leather jacket over a grew t-shirt, and dark washed blue jeans. He was undoubtedly the man from the diner.
I stared down the gun, he was far enough back that if I charged him, I would probably be shot. I put my hands up slightly holding my knife between my index finger and thumb just dangling it, I was skilled enough to have it back in my palm in a fraction of a second yet I didn’t want to seem like any kind of threat. “I don’t know a Sam,” I responded, “I’m here looking for my brother, Gabriel.”
He stared me down, “oh really?”
“Uh, yeah, really.” I responded biting my tongue after. Sometimes I couldn’t help but be sarcastic at the worst possible time.
“And what are you going to do with that?” He waved the gun pointing at my knife. “Bringing a knife to a gun fight?”
“Nothing wrong with a girl protecting herself,” I responded.
He huffed, and slowly put his weapon to his side. “Have you seen anyone here?”
I shook my head also lowering my hands and whirling the knife back into my grip. “I was just talking to him not more than ten minutes ago on the phone.” I felt my jaw tightening as my teeth clamped together.
“Yeah, I went out to get something from my car, came back in, everyone just gone. Not that there were many people to begin with, just a few of my friends, my brother, and well... I assume the one ordering Canadian beer was your brother?”
“He only drinks Canadian,” I responded quietly.
“We’ll find them, I’m Dean Winchester by the way,” he stuck out his hand to me.
I looked at it for a second before tossing my knife to my opposite hand so I could shake his hand. “Audrey Lutrelli,” I responded. “Who were your friends?”
“Jo and her mother Ellen Harvelle who was workin’ the bar. They needed our help on a...” Dean froze and looked away.
“A hunt?”
He whirled back on me and pointed the gun at my head, “how’d you know?”
I threw up my hands with a slight grin. “I’m a hunter too, doesn’t take me long to put two and two together,” I responded. “I’ve got all the fake ID’s to prove it.” He gave a slight grin, it dropped from his face quickly when we heard a gunshot in the back alleyway.
“Stay back,” he told me, “you ain’t going to do much damage with that little knife.”
As much as I hated admitting it, he was right and I knew it. I kept a few steps back and he paused at the door, hand on the knob, he looked to me and counted to three before we busted out.