𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝙷𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛[𝙳.𝚆]

036

"I wanna make it 300." I slur, pretending to almost lose my balance to make sure I sell it. The big beefy guy with sleeve tattoos standing at the other end of the pool table smirks at me.

"Sure thing, princess." He says, lifting the rack off the pool table. I look over at Dean by the bar and wink at him. He smiles, tipping his beer to me before bringing it up to his lips.

"Your break, little miss." I saunter over towards the balls and slowly lean over the table, making sure to give them a good distraction. I line up my pool stick and with a slight curve up of my lips, I break perfectly, getting in two stripes.

"Aw! I wanted solids. Stripes are so gross." I whine stupidly, standing straight again. I hold back a smirk when I see the multiple guys standing around the table looking at me with shocked expressions.

"What?" I feign innocence. The game goes by quickly and I end up walking away with an extra 300 bucks in my pocket.

"How'd you learn to play pool so well?" Dean chuckles as I walk with him down the steps of the bar, his arm wrapped around my shoulders. It's become a normal occurrence at this point.

Nothing ever happened between us after the Hookman gig. I made sure to keep things strictly platonic between us, even with all of Dean's attempts to change my mind. He claims he'll be able to win me over someday, but I'd tell him it was never gonna happen.

We still flirt with each other and stay close together physically, but it was all just fun and games. Deep down, I knew I was playing with fire, but I just couldn't help myself. I guess I just wanted to get burned. I craved it.

I wave around the money I just earned and smirk up at him.

"I gotta get this money somehow." I tell him as I stuff the cash in my back pocket.

"We could get day jobs." Sam pipes up from where he rests on the hood of the Impala. We both look over to him and I tilt my head.

"Umm, not when we're busy hunting things that go bump in the night." I point out.

"Yeah, plus, the pay is crap." Dean adds.

"Yeah, but hustling pool, credit card scams? It's not the most honest thing in the world, guys."

"Well, let's see, honest, fun and easy." Dean visually weighs out with his hands. "It's no contest."

"Agreed." I nod.

"Besides, we're good at it. It's what we were raised to do." Dean shrugs.

"Yeah, well, how we were raised was jacked."

"Yeah, says you. Though, I gotta say, I don't know where you learned to hustle like that but it was a damn good view from where I was sitting." Dean smirks. I glare at him, stepping out from under his arm to point a finger at him.

"I hope, for your sake, Winchester, that you're talking about my pool skills." I turn to Sam. "But back onto the topic of hunting evil stuff, you find our next case?"

"Maybe." Sam answers, getting off the
hood to rest the newspaper on it instead.

"Oasis Plains, Oklahoma. Not far from here. Gas company employee, Dustin Burwash supposedly died from Creutzfeldt-Jakob."

"Huh?" Dean looks up from the newspaper, clearly confused.

"Human mad cow disease." Sam explains.

"Mad cow? Wasn't that on Oprah?"

"You watch Oprah?" Sam looks at him weirdly. I chuckle when I notice Dean shift, almost in embarrassment.