Sam didn’t care if he scratched the paint on the Impala’s trunk as he diligently worked to jimmy the lock so he could pop it open. He wanted his stuff, and he wanted it now. He didn’t care why the hell Dad had sent them to Fuckedupville, Idaho, or wherever they were. He’d had enough. Enough time on the road, enough researching, enough hunting, and more than enough Dean.

“Sammy,” he heard Dean call out as his brother stumbled out of the diner. He could hear the apologetic tone in his brother’s voice, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even want to hear it.  “Sam, come on, hold up,” Dean tried again, jogging over to the car.

Sam turned to face him, only the small trickle of blood on Dean’s lip stilled the urge to punch him again, though it only slightly tamed his fury. “What?” he spat angrily.

“Sam, just calm down…” Dean started, ready to try and placate his brother.

“Calm down?” Sam repeated back, in disbelief. “Calm down, Dean? What the…” He was so flustered that he couldn’t even complete whatever question he was going to ask. “I wake up this morning and, hello, I’m in this body. As if that weren’t bad enough, I just got…felt up and dry humped by Bruno and Bluto Bumpkin in there. Do you have any idea how many years of therapy this is going to take to get past?”

Dean did his best to hide his smile, but he couldn’t quite. He saw Sam’s jaw go slightly slack and a new surge of hatred reached his brother’s eyes. Immediately the smile vanished. “Sam, look. I’m sorry. I had no idea that something like that would happen.”

Sam blinked. So Dean admitted it. This was his fault. “You son of a bitch.” His eyes blazed.

Dean held up his hands in surrender. “Sam, I swear I thought it would be funny. Oh man, I wish I could have seen your face when you…” For a change, he seemed to realize that this was not the thing to say to get his brother to calm down enough to forgive him, and quickly changed tactics. “It’s only for a day or so. Then you’ll be back to normal.”

Sam eyed him suspiciously. “Swear?”

“Swear. You’ll be back to being Boring Boy by morning.”

Sam glared at him, but nodded slowly, feeling a slight bit better. One day. He could deal with this for one day. Half the population lived like this daily and didn’t have problems; he could do it for one day.

“Or possibly by tomorrow afternoon.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, his jaw growing tense again.

“I’m sure by morning, though,” Dean amended again.

Right.

Sam shook his head, still angry, but calming slightly more. “So what am I supposed to do in the meantime?” he asked in a barely controlled voice.

Dean glanced at him and shrugged a little. “We still don’t know why Dad sent us here, so I’m thinking that we should do a little bit of poking around today.” Sam started to nod, but stopped when Dean couldn’t help but add with a smirk, “Who knows, maybe your new assets will--”

That was it. Sam went back to jimmying the lock on the trunk. Sure he could just ask for the keys, but he wasn’t about to ask Dean for anything. Not today.

“Sammy…”

“My name is Sam,” he grit out between clenched teeth. Dean slapped his brother’s hands away from the trunk’s lock. Sam glared at him. “I want my stuff.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take it all back up to the room.”

Sam shook his head. “No. I want my stuff. Until this,” he motioned down at his body, “is fixed, I’m not staying here with you.”

Dean let out a long suffering sigh and rolled his eyes. “Don’t be such a gir…” he stopped mid-sentence and bit his lip lightly with amusement as Sam stared at him incredulously. Oops. “Oh come on, Sam. You’re not really going to leave.” It wasn’t a question.

Sam looked at him, his jaw set with determination. “No, Dean. I’m going to stay and finish this job. Just not with you. I think it’s best if we just split up for a while.”

Dean cocked an eyebrow. “You sure that’s a good idea?”

“I’m a big boy--"

“Actually--" Dean’s lips curved into a smirk.

“Not a word!” Sam snapped, begrudging his poor choice of defense. “I can handle myself for a day. I’ll go to the library and do some asking around. But I’m not spending the day with you gloating about this.”

Dean nodded, “I promise, no more gloating.” Sam snorted in disbelief. Dean held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, fine. We go our separate ways for today, but you’re still coming back here tonight. We don’t know what’s out there, and I don’t think you should be--”

“No,” Sam countered firmly. “I’m going to find myself someplace else to stay until I’m ready to talk to you again.”

Dean rolled his eyes again. “Sammy…”

“No. You don’t get to call this one. I trusted you, Dean. And you what? Did you drug me last night? Is that why I can’t remember anything? Why would you do something like this to me? How did…how did you even…?”

Dean shrugged and looked slightly uncomfortable. “Well see there was this voodoo chick down in Orleans who was into some really weird kinky shit. And this one time--”

Sam closed his eyes tight and shook his head holding up his hand to stop Dean. “No. I don’t think I even want to know this.” Dean only smiled slightly and waved his hands in a gesture that seemed to say ‘don’t say I didn’t try to tell you.’  “Just open the trunk. Please.”

Reluctantly, Dean did just that. He frowned as he watched Sam pull his suitcase from the trunk. Sam was actually serious. He wasn’t even going to stay at the same freaking hotel. Overdramatic much? “Okay, but you’re calling me when you find a place and you’re checking in with me every couple hours.”

It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes. “Yes, Mom,” he replied sarcastically.

“Uh…”

“Not a word.”

Dean decided that it would be prudent to heed his brother’s warning and stop teasing. For now, at least, if he was to have any luck persuading his brother to if not forgive him, to at least start trusting him again and playing things safe. “I’m serious, Sam. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here. So you learn anything, you call me. You don’t check in every few hours, I will hunt you down.” Sam wanted to say something sarcastic, but he stopped himself when he saw the truly concerned look on his brother’s face. He let out a deep breath and nodded. “And if you need help or anything…” Dean’s head turned as he heard someone else coming out of the diner. The aforementioned Bruno and Bluto. Perhaps he really should have waited for this prank until they weren’t in some backwater hillbilly infested town. His eyes narrowed as he saw the way the pair was looking at his brother. Yeah, he definitely should have waited. He’d figured it’d be a safe time to do it since today was going to be all about figuring out why they were there and researching, no actual hunting. But he’d failed to consider the possibility that the local rednecks weren’t housebroken. “Uh, Sam? Maybe we really should stay together.”

But Sam had already pulled his suitcase and was stalking away.

Dean thought about going after him, but decided better of it. He was certain that Sam would get over it as soon as they got back to work and figured out what it was they were up against. He was also sure that Sam would be dragging that bag back to their hotel room at some point. Hell, he wasn’t even sure there was another inn anywhere nearby anyway. It was a tiny town, and he couldn’t imagine there being need for more than one hotel. His brother wanted to be stubborn and drag it all over town with him all day, fine. He grabbed his own bag and slammed the trunk shut. He looked back at the Bumpkins, but it appeared that they were back to being just two dumb rednecks, hanging out in a diner parking lot shooting the shit. He glanced at Sam’s retreating form one more time, then collected his bag and headed back to the room.

Sam knew he was probably overreacting a little bit considering that he now knew that this was only a temporary situation, but he still couldn’t stand the idea of spending the day suffering through the countless digs he was certain Dean would be able to come up with. Besides, he needed some time to come up with his revenge. Maiming him, though tempting, was probably going too far. But he still was going to have to pay for this one. Somehow. Not for the first time in his life, he wished he had more of his brother’s creativity. And perhaps a bit more of Dean’s borderline evil plotting capability.

The inn was about six blocks from the bulk of the little town, and Sam made it about two of them before he realized that he heard footsteps following him. Assuming it was Dean, he stepped up his pace just a little bit. He noted that his follower did not speed up along with him. “Go away, Dean,” he called back over his shoulder even as he slowed his pace again. He knew if his brother wanted to catch him, he would do exactly that. He may be taller, but was fairly certain that Dean was faster. Besides, he wasn’t exactly wearing great running attire.

He became aware of the sound of an approaching car and moved farther to the side of the road. He tensed slightly as he realized the car was slowing down as it approached him. Without looking, he was certain that it wasn’t the Impala; the engine didn’t sound right, plus there was no tell-tale sound of mullet rock blaring from within. He ventured a glance over his shoulder and winced as he recognized The Bumpkins. Just great. He started to walk faster again, but a few moments later it drew up alongside him.

“Hey, Girlie,” one of them greeted as the car passed him only to turn sharply in front of him and rolled to a stop. Crap.

Sam stopped walking for a moment, contemplating his best move. He’d had a female body for less than two waking hours, and already he’d been assaulted once. It was definitely not an experience he wanted to relive. Especially not without Dean’s backup. Maybe he’d been too hasty about splitting up, after all.

He dropped his bag and got into ready stance as Bumpkin One got out of the passenger seat. The man laughed. “What you going to do? You ain’t got your boyfriend here to protect you.”

Sam scowled and crouched slightly, readying for battle. The two had gotten the drop on him the first time, but only because his focus had been on Dean. This time he didn’t have that interference. He also happened to remember dropping one of these guys with only two real moves. He was a well-trained fighter. These guys had no idea what they were in for. He glanced sideways, scouting the ground for a stick or anything that he could use for a weapon.

“Someone needs to teach you a lesson,” the approaching Bumpkin sneered.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “That right? Just what is it I need to learn?” he ground out angrily. Just how backwater was this place? Were they still living in the 50s or what?

“You need to mind your manners.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Okay. I’m sorry I kicked your ass back there,” he replied sarcastically. He almost grinned as he saw the man’s eyes widen with indignity.

“Watch your mouth, Bitch.” The man reached out to grab Sam’s arm, but Sam was quicker, leaping and swinging his leg up and out in a powerful kick to the man’s jaw. The man stumbled back a step before falling to the ground, clutching his mouth.

“I’d say you better watch yours,” Sam spat back, his eyes darting to the second Bumpkin, who was heading toward him as well. He took a few steps back, out of reach of the first one and readied himself for further attack. What was it with these creeps? Were girls like totally foreign here or something? Surely they didn’t treat the local women this way. Right? He didn’t have time to contemplate that as the man lunged at him. He stopped the guy with a quick jab to the throat followed by a knee to the groin. He grinned ferally as the man dropped into the gravel beside his friend. Hesitating for a few moments to see if either was going to try again, he heard the person behind him running toward them. He whirled, ready to defend himself against a third attacker if necessary.

A young man rushing up behind him immediately skidded to a stop, his arms raised in surrender. “Whoa, it’s okay. I’m not one of them,” the guy assured quickly. “I was too far back or I would have…” he motioned to the two on the ground. “Not that it appears you needed my assistance.” Sam turned so that his back was to neither the two on the ground or the new arrival. He looked at the newcomer appraisingly, and slowly relaxed a notch, taking a chance that the guy was sincere. “Well, since I was too late to help with them, can I help you with that?”

Sam raised an eyebrow and looked back at the guy. Help him with what? The guy smiled brightly and motioned toward Sam’s bag. “Oh. No. That’s okay, I’ve got it.” Sam glanced back at his would-be assailants and determined that they were not currently a threat. Though he certainly wouldn’t be surprised if they came back to haunt him again when there wouldn’t be a witness to their ineptitude. Sam grabbed his bag and turned back to the guy awkwardly. “Thanks, though.”  

“No, I insist,” the guy replied, reaching out to take Sam’s bag from him. “Sorry I didn’t catch up before Brady and Kyle…” the guy motioned to the idiots on the ground. “They’re…” he just shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Well, most of us aren’t like them.”

Sam didn’t relinquish his hold on his bag. It would just be too weird to let this guy carry it when he was perfectly capable of doing so himself. “Thanks, but I’ve got it…uh…”

“Ben,” the guy introduced himself and extended his hand.

Sam took the hand and shook it amicably. “Sam…antha,” he had to concentrate not to wince as he added the last. “I just go by Sam.”

“Samantha’s a pretty name,” Ben said softly and Sam felt his face heating up a little bit. This was just about as weird as it could get. Dean was still going to have to die.  “Here, let me take that for you. It’s still a little ways to town.”

Sam forced himself to smile politely. “Really, I’ve got it, but if you could point me in the direction of the nearest…uh…next nearest inn?”

Ben nodded. “Sure. I’ll walk you there. I’m headed into town anyway.”

Sam had to concentrate to not roll his eyes. He really didn’t need or want an escort, but it really wasn’t worth making another scene over. So, fine. At least this guy seemed nice. “Thanks.” As he started walking toward town, Ben fell into step beside him.

For the first block or so they walked in an awkward silence before Ben finally attempted to break the ice. “So, Samantha, what brings you to Prairieville?”

“Oh. Um,” his mind raced, seeking a good explanation for why he and Dean were not just passing through the tiny town but likely staying for a few days. The oldest standby really seemed the best choice. It gave license for asking questions, and fishing for stories. “Actually, I’m a reporter.”

“You must be here about those girls,” Ben acknowledged quietly.

Sam nodded, hoping that Ben would elaborate without too much prodding. Even if he didn’t he maybe now had a starting point for his search.

“I wondered how long it would be before someone showed up here.”

Sam glanced at him curiously.

“Six girls disappearing without a trace and every single one of them stopped here in Prairieville before going missing?” Ben continued. Oh yes, this was definitely why they were sent here. “Well, let’s just say I’m really surprised you’re the first one to actually come to check it out. Did you know the state police haven’t even questioned anyone here?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “So how do you know about it?”

“It’s a small town. I take care of the town landscape. Maintain the streetlights, mow town property, all that sort of thing. Since I’m usually out on the street, I see pretty much everyone who comes and goes.”

“So, did you talk to any of these girls? When they were passing through?”

“Yeah. I talked to most of them. And well Annabeth lived here, you know. She was the first. Well the first I know of anyway. It wasn’t until she disappeared that I started taking notice of these things. For all I know there might be more than six of them. I just wasn’t paying attention until she--” Ben stopped talking and he took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly.

Sam nodded with sudden understanding. “Annabeth. She was your…?”

“Fiancé,” Ben supplied, looking away from Sam.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks. It’s been almost six months but I…I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

Sam smiled sadly, feeling a new sort of camaraderie with the guy. “Yeah my,” he almost slipped and said girlfriend, but caught himself at the last moment. “My best friend was killed about nine months ago. It’s hard to get over that sort of thing.”

Ben stopped walking, and Sam stopped along side him. “I don’t think you really can get over it,” Ben admitted, looking ahead the final block to where the bulk of the town loomed. “I know I should just leave here. Try to start over somewhere, but I just feel like I can’t even do that until I find out what happened to her.”

Oh yeah, Sam knew that feeling, too. He set his bag down suspecting that this wasn’t going to be a brief stop. “Yeah, that’s kind of why I do this,” he replied, nodding down toward his bag. Ben looked over at him curiously.  “It won’t bring her back but…”

“But maybe it will help you make sense of it.”

Sam shrugged. That wasn’t really what he meant, but in a way it was true too. And it sounded a whole lot better than admitting that he was out for vengeance. Justice. Whichever he could get.

Ben suddenly reached up and swept Sam’s hair back out of his eyes. Sam jerked back in surprise and Ben quickly moved away. “Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you. It’s just that you remind me of her in a way. Annabeth.”

Sam licked his lips nervously. “Oh?” he asked, unsure how to handle this kind of attention any better than he’d handled the unwanted attention of the two goons.

“Yeah. She was a fighter, too,” Ben smiled a little too brightly, his eyes remaining sad. “You really were impressive. I don’t think those guys knew what hit them,” he chuckled lightly, and Sam could feel himself blushing a little under the guy’s scrutiny.  

“Yeah, thanks,” he stammered, feeling extremely awkward.

“You think maybe…?”

Sam looked over at him when he stopped. “Hmm?”

“Would you have dinner with me tonight?” Sam’s eyes widened with surprise. “I know you don’t really know me, but,” Ben hesitated for a moment before continuing, “I’d really like to change that.” His hand brushed lightly against Sam’s.

Sam swallowed hard. Oh lord. “I don’t…”

“Please. Just dinner. It’s been a long time since I’ve even just talked to a woman. I just think it’d be really nice to get to know you.”

“Ben, I--”

Ben cut him off with a wave and a little smile. “You’ve got a boyfriend, right? Should have figured that. It’s okay, I understand. Still, you’re in town for a few days, right? Nothing wrong with a friendly dinner, right?”

Sam was completely tongue-tied for a moment as he tried to wrap his brain around the idea that this guy thought he had a boyfriend. Still, it was a pretty convenient excuse, so he decided not to correct it. “Yeah, no. Um. Sure. That’d be nice,” he managed to choke out.

“Great. I can maybe bring my notes. Maybe something there can help you with your story.”

Sam nodded, with a slight bit more enthusiasm. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

“I’ll swing by and pick you up at the inn around six-thirty?” Sam hesitated again, this sounding a bit too much like a date for his comfort. “Or you can meet me at the lodge?” Ben suggested, catching on to Sam’s uneasiness. “It’s just a couple blocks past the end of Main,” Ben motioned in the correct direction. “It’s the better of the two restaurants around here. Brady and Kyle were banned for life a couple years back,” he added with a charming smile.

Sam caught himself grinning back and nodded his approval. “Great. I’ll meet you there at six-thirty.”

Ben nodded. He picked up Sam’s bag and started walking again, a smile on his face. Sam cringed slightly at the new spring in the man’s step. He wondered guiltily if by agreeing to go tonight he was totally leading this guy on. No, it wouldn’t be his fault, he’d said no initially and agreed only when he suggested going as friends. He wasn’t leading Ben on. Still, he couldn’t help but feel awkward and guilty about it. He was pretty certain that if Ben knew that Sam wasn’t really a girl, he’d never have asked him out even as friends.

Oh Dean was going to pay for this.

“Well here we are,” Ben announced as they reached the first building on the edge of Main. He opened the door for Sam and motioned him on inside. “Shirl here will take good care of you. Morning, Shirl!” Ben greeted, waving to the elderly woman behind the counter.

“Good morning, Ben,” she returned, looking up. Her smile widened as she looked up at Sam in surprise. Sam could feel himself blushing a little again. “And who might you be, Darling?”

“This here is Samantha. She’s going to be in town a couple of days and needs a place to stay.”

Sam wasn’t sure whether he should be amused or a bit put off by the way Ben was talking for him. He imagined, though, that the guy was just trying to be polite. “Thanks for everything, Ben. I’ll see you tonight,” Sam dismissed him politely, reaching out to take his bag back.

“Looking forward to it,” Ben replied, his eye lingering a little too long on Sam before he handed the bag over. “You need anything while you’re here, you can usually find me pretty easy.” Sam nodded his appreciation. “See you tonight.”

Sam relaxed considerably as the young man finally left him alone.

“He’s taken quite a liking to you, Samantha,” Shirl commented, sounding quite giddy.

Sam forced himself to keep smiling. “Just Sam, please,” he asked of her, really not wanting Dean to overhear everyone calling him Samantha. He’d never hear the end of this regardless, but it’d be worse if Dean had ammunition.

“I haven’t seen him look that happy since…well in a long time.” Sam nodded uncomfortably. “Business is slow this time of year, so you’ve pretty much got pick of the rooms.”

“Whatever you have is fine,” Sam replied quickly, just wanting to get his key and get back to his room where he could call Dean and fill him in on what he’d already learned.

“I love this one,” Shirl commented as she lifted key # 4 off the last hook. All three of the other keys were still hanging. Business was definitely slow. “Follow me, it’s right this way.”

Sam forced himself to keep smiling when Shirl let him into his room. There was no way Dean was ever going to see it, he decided immediately as his eyes darted over the pink frilly curtains and the purple satin bedspread. He would absolutely never live down Dean’s teasing. “Thank you. It’s…great.”

“I can see why Ben likes you,” Shirl said quietly as she backed out of the room. “You look a lot like…”

“Annabeth?” Sam asked quietly.

Shirl nodded sadly. “You’re a lot taller, of course, but you have the same eyes. Oh, but he took it hard when she ran off.”

Sam’s head cocked to the side. “Ran off? I thought she disappeared.”

“A week before the wedding,” Shirl confirmed. “She didn’t even leave a note.”

“So you think she left on her own accord?”

“You don’t? Oh dear.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Do you know her last name?”

“Of course. It’s a small town. Everybody around here knows everybody. Rochester. That was her last name.”

“Do her parents still live around here?”

Shirl’s smile grew sadder. “Poor dear. She lost them both just a year before she left. Accident out on Route 10.”

Sam hid his disappointment. Of course it was too bad that the girl lost her parents, but beyond that it would have made his job a whole lot easier if he could verify with them that Annabeth hadn’t just left on her own.

“She stayed right here, you know.” That got Sam’s attention back. “In this room. She painted all of those,” she motioned toward the nightscape paintings that lined the walls. They weren’t the best he’d seen, but the girl had definitely had talent. “Then one night she just disappeared. Took all her things and vanished. I’d have thought that she’d at least take her paintings, she loved them so, but I guess she knew I liked them and left them for me.”

With that, Shirl handed Sam his key and left him alone.

As soon as she was gone, Sam dug into his bag and sought out his cell phone. There was work to do, so he set his anger with his brother aside and dialed his number.

“Dean? Meet me in town. I think I’ve got a lead on why we’re here,” he said as soon as his brother answered. He hung up, not even waiting for a response.