Saints or Sinners | {BOOK 3}

95| Colonel Scoop's

I looked down at Dean, dead asleep in our bed, and smirked. Reaching over, I pressed a button on the radio, blasting loud rock music. Dean shot up in bed, pulling a gun from beneath his pillow and pointing it at me.

"Nice reflexes," I smirked. "Better hair."

It was slightly mussed from sleep, only getting worse, or better, as he ran a hand through it.

"What's wrong with you? I could have shot you," he grumbled, still half asleep. "And you're going to wake up Maddie and Zep, too."

He glanced at his watch.

"Why aren't you sleeping? We got in like two hours ago."

"Not tired. And we got work to do, so put on your dancing shoes and let's boogie."

After peeking into Maddie and Zep's room to make sure I really hadn't woken them with the loud music, I headed into the main room of the Bunker. Sam and Dean both wandered in sleepily with cups of coffee in hand a few minutes later as I was packing a duffel.

"You didn't have to get up, Sam," I told him. "Dean and I can handle this. You stay here with the kids."

"I want to know what's going on, too," he insisted. "So what's up?"

"I called Cass. He said there's something going down in Missouri."

"What kind of something?" Dean asked.

"He said he couldn't talk on the phone."

"Why?"

"Because he's a weird guy, okay? He's a weird, dorky, little guy. But he happens to have an army of angels behind him, and even though I hate to say it, if we're gonna take a shot at Metatron, they might be useful."

I grabbed the First Blade with my left hand, moving to add it to the bag as well.

"Well, do you need the First Blade? Why don't we just leave it here?"

I glared over at the two brothers as Dean moved closer to me, eyes pleading.

"We talked about this, and we decided that-"

"No," he cut me off. "In all fairness, we didn't decide. You did."

"Okay," I relented, "I decided that a hockey stick that can kill anything might come in handy, so sue me."

"How many times have we been around this block? Magic that powerful comes at a price, and right now we don't know what that price is."

"I'm fine. I'm fan-friggin'-tastic."

"And I'm glad, honestly. I'm not saying we bury the thing. I'm saying let's save it for when we really need it. Crowley. Metatron. The big boss fights. You don't have to have it with you all the time, right? I mean, just leave it. Please."

I glanced away from Dean to where Sam had been standing to see he had disappeared- no doubt going back to bed and letting Dean handle me by himself. I looked back, meeting my husband's green eyes, and nodded.

"No problem," I agreed, setting the Blade back on the table.

"Thank you."

⁘

We met Cass at the crime scene he'd given me over the phone, an exploded Colonel Scoop's ice cream shop.

"Thank you for coming," Cass greeted us.

"Spears and Aguilera?" I raised an eyebrow in question.

"I noticed your aliases are usually names of popular musicians," the angel explained.