Organization is the deadliest weapon a person can wield. You always took the time to keep things scheduled and structured in everything you do. It made your life and your career much more efficient. Killing people was easy, but the only difference between a professional assassin and an amateur is that professionals know how to clean up their mess.
Now you thought this was just another regular job, eliminate the target and go. Nonetheless, you were so painfully wrong.
It all began at the Embassy Suites Hotel in Los Angeles. Your target was a very powerful politician with a tendency to end up in bed with anyone but his own wife. He was planning on running for re-election pretty soon which you guess was why the target was put on him. Normally, you don't go for killing people in such high statuses of government, due to how risky it was. However, you just couldn't turn down after seeing the reward you'd get for killing him. $500,000. Now how could you possibly turn that down?
You decided to disguise yourself as a housekeeper, giving you easy access to his room. After studying his schedule for the past week, you estimated that he wouldn't be in his room till 7:15 pm, which was about two hours from now.
As you rolled your cart out of the elevator, you checked your watch. You had approximately now 87 minutes and 33 seconds to replace his regular prescription with Ambien pills, a well known sedative. Plenty of time.
After glancing quickly over your shoulder down the hall, you quietly twisted open the knob of the door. As you entered, your eyes darted back and forth around to see if for some reason he might've been inside. To your luck, the room was empty.
With a sigh, you pushed the cart inside, using your foot to close the door behind you. This part of the job was the best part. Laying out your trap and waiting to see it all unfold. You slowly knelt down, reaching into the cart for the ambien.
Your ears perked up as you heard soft muffled steps on the carpet, causing you to stiffen. Suddenly, a man with short, dirty blond hair and apple green eyes appeared behind, dressed in a white button up with a black bow tie and slacks. A smirk arose on his face as he glanced at your figure from behind.
You clasped your hand around the pills and stood up slowly, feeling a strong prescence oddly close. You knew someone was behind you and you had to think fast and catch them by surprise. Looking down at the floor, you could see a slight shadow blocking the light from behind your feet. You slowly reached under the hem of your uniform shirt and gripped your hand over the blade you had strapped to your waist. The person seemed to catch on quickly and before you could even turn around and point the blade on him, he grabbed your wrist sharply, pulling the blade close to your neck.
"Who the hell are you?" The guy said gruffly, his breath softly grazing your neck as he spoke. He pressed the blade just softly enough to apply a slight pressure onto your skin. He was no amateur, that's for sure.
"I should be asking you the same thing," you replied with a smirk. Real recognizes real, as they say.
He shrugged, his hold never wavering as he spoke, "I'm just the room service guy, you?"
"For just a room service guy, you sure have some incredible reflexes," you scoffed. You glanced around the room, trying to find any other details that could tell you who this guy was. The room was completely spotless. Was he already here before?
"Well I've never met a maid who carries a whole arsenal under (her/his) uniform," the guy responded with a smirk as well.
"I'm just here to do my job," you tried to shrug, though his strong grip made it difficult to move.
"Is that what the ambien is for?" He asked, "Cause I prefer Lunesta."
You raised a brow at his comment, causing the pills to slip from your hand and fall into the carpet floor. "Look I don't know who you are, but this is my job. So stay the hell out of my way," you remarked angrily. There was nothing else you could do at this point.
"Too late hun, there's a dead body in the bathtub with my name written all over it. I'm getting that 500 grand," the guy said confidently. So you were right. You both were here for the same thing, but somehow he beat you to it. Who is this guy?
"But how did you- he left hours ago. I saw it in the cameras," you muttered in disbelief. You remembered checking the hotel cameras before you came in to make sure the politician had left his room.
"It's called hacking the camera system sweetheart. I just took some footage from yesterday and replayed it," he explained. "Look, I'll give you some time to run while I clean up this mess and collect my money."
As he slowly let go of your wrists, you took that chance to whip around and hold the blade up to his neck. He held his hand up in surrender, giving you a better view of his face. His green eyes glistened under the warm hotel lights, resembling leaves glowing under the sun. He had a smug toothy grin plastered on his face, giving off the feeling that he thought this was a game. "Where's your ID?" You asked, keeping your eyes locked on his and applying slightly more pressure on his throat.
"It's in my wallet. Back pocket," he said with a wink. You narrowed your eyes on suspicion. Still keeping the blade at his neck, you reached your hand down his back pocket, pulling out a wallet. For some reason, his breaths were more hitched, as if he had been holding his breath.
As you took the wallet, you searched for some form of identification. "Dean Winchester huh?" You smirked as you read his ID.
"That's my name. Don't wear it out," he shrugged.
"Well Dean, you cost me a good pay today. So the next time you try to steal a job from me," you placed the ID in your pocket, "I know who you are and could report you in a matter of seconds."
"Oh come on, you'd love to run into me again sometime sweetheart. How about I write up my number for ya?" He winked. You lowered the blade as he seemed to relax.
"I'll pass," you said as slowly backed away, taking your cart and pills along with you. As you made your way out, you kept an eye on Dean, who gave you another wink before you walked out.
Casually brushing yourself off, you rolled your kart into the supply closet, the perfect place to be alone and try to process what happened. In the spur of the moment, your phone suddenly vibrated in your shirt pocket, causing you to slightly jump up in shock.
You turned on your phone, seeing as you got a new message from an unknown number.
Unknown: You forgot your knife. Don't worry, I'll keep it safe till we meet again.
-D.W
YOU ARE READING
This is War(Supernatural AU)
Fanfiction(Y/N) was no force to be reckoned with. Being a professional assassin had its perks, those perks being the massive pay. So what happens when some cocky stranger named Dean Winchester steals one of her kills?
