Josie woke up to someone shaking her shoulder.
"Leave me alone, Myles..." she slurred sleepily.
Immediately the shaking stopped. That was odd. Myles never stopped when she asked him to.
Josie opened her eyes, and was shocked to see Sam leaning over her. Then, after she took in the motel room, Sam's sad expression, and Dean sitting on the floor loading a shotgun, it all came flooding back to her.
She forced down a sudden, abrupt sob, only a few tears leaking down her cheeks which she hastily wiped away.
"Morning, Sam," she managed.
"Hey," Sam said. "We were going to go talk to the sheriff. If you want to come, you need an FBI badge."
Josie frowned. "Impersonating a federal agent? Can't you go to jail for, liked, eighteen years for that?"
"Guess we've got a lot of eighteen-year sentences to serve, then," Dean said. He tossed her a hairbrush and a fresh set of clothes.
"I hope we got the right size," Sam said. "Everything's an extra small."
Josie held up a crimson blouse and a gray blazer and slacks. The slacks looked a little big, but hopefully they'd hide her Converse that way (the boys didn't appear to have accounted for her shoes).
"Wow," she said, "thanks."
Sam nodded and half-smiled.
Josie threw the covers off of her and strode into the bathroom, raking the brush through her hair, carrying the clothes under her arm. She did her best to cover up as much as possible, but in the end she just walked across the room with the pile of clothes covering her bra and the rest of her torso. It was the best she could manage.
She closed the bathroom door behind her and headed to the shower. She stripped, then turned on the water and stepped in.
She'd forgotten how truly crappy crappy motels were. It had been four years since she'd had to stay in a place like this--terrible water pressure, cockroaches under the bed, weird stains on the floor around the toilet...it made her terribly nostalgic, and only a teensy bit grossed out.
The shower turned cold after five minutes, so Josie just got out. The shampoo bottle had mold growing inside it, anyway. Josie hadn't even thought that was possible.
She dragged the brush though her wet hair, then wrapped it in a towel and started putting the clothes Sam and Dean had gotten for her on.
The shirt was too small for her bust, but with a little squishing it fit. The pants were too long and too loose on her waist, but they worked well enough. The blazer fit just fine.
Josie pulled her hair down and combed it out again, then stepped outside.
"How do I look?" she asked, posing.
Dean rolled his eyes, but Sam smiled and looked down. He was giggling--wait, did guys giggle? It seemed like that was what he was doing. He wasn't laughing, or chuckling. Giggling was definitely the right word.
Josie struck another pose, jutting her hip out and throwing her wet hair over her shoulder, and Sam's guy-giggles turned into real laughs.
"Please, disguise your amusement," she said, turning away and walking to the bed to hide her smile.
Sam laughed even louder, and then Josie laughed too. And that made Sam laugh harder, and then out of nowhere they were both clutching their stomachs and laughing their heads off.
"Good god, she's not Danny Devito," Dean muttered.
Sam and Josie kept laughing. Josie threw herself on her bed, gasping for breath, and a moment later Sam plopped down next to her.
YOU ARE READING
Pieces Of Me {Sam Winchester}
Fanfiction"They say there are two things in life that you can never truly escape. The first is death. The second is hunting." ••• Josie Moss was a hunter. Or, she used to be a hunter. Then she got out. For four years, she was nothing but a college student who...
