Damaged Goods

Bugs

Sam was reading his newspaper-more specifically the article about the first man killed by the bugs.

I was reading a book. It had been a boring week so I punished myself with an equally boring book. Since we left the college campus, not much had happened. I managed to save us two days. A great thing- except that meant two whole days of boredom while waiting for Bugs to start.

Ugh. Bugs.

After a quick talk I'd kept Dean close enough to the town so Sam would find the article. A lot of bars with college kids? Easy money for pool hustles. Plus, hot chicks. Dean was all for it. Sam was cursing his existence.

The book was boring. I tossed it away into my Bag. Instead I grabbed a notebook. The boring book had given me an idea before it went full boring. Finding a blank page I got to work on an upgrade for my Night Mistress rocket boots. They were great, but they could always be better.

Sam glanced up at me from the article. Swept up in the upgrade designs, I ignored him. "Hey I think I got-"

"Hush." I jotted down the formula, plus some math to back it up.

"What?"

"Said hush!" Finding a decent place to pause, I turned my head to him. "What?"

"I think I found a case." Sam moves the newspaper towards me.

Which I completely ignored, going back to the equations before I lost my train of thought. "Great. Tell Dean."

Sam scoffed, dry as the bitch face. "If he stopped hustling at pool long enough." He glared off in the direction of the bar.

"Hey would you rather he robbed a bank to get money?" I remarked.

"No. I'd like us to get honest jobs- real jobs."

I snorted. "Neither of you would last a day in a real job."

"I would." Sam argued. "I had to, when I left. Once I did it, I was proud."

"Yeah but I bet you were bored." I was swept up in calculations after that.

Before Sam could make an argument against it Dean walked out of the bar. He laughed with confidence as he came back to the Impala. He showed off the wad of cash he'd won.

"You know, we could get day jobs once in a while." Sam reminded him.

"Hunting's our day job. And the pay is crap." Dean countered, counting his winnings..

"Yeah, but hustling pool? Credit card scams?" Sam listed. "It's not the most honest thing in the world, Dean."

"Well, let's see honest. Fun and easy." Dean held up his two hands. The hand with the money dropped lower. He shrugged helplessly at Sam. "It's no contest. Besides, we're good at it. It's what we were raised to do."

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

"Yeah, says you." Dean snarked back. "Hey Raven?"

I glanced up. "Huh?"

Dean was giving me a 'come on don't leave me alone with this'. "We got a new gig or what?"

"Ask your brother." I pointing my thumb at Sam.

"So do we?" Dean asked Sam.

"Maybe." Sam hopped off the car. "Oasis Plains, Oklahoma- not far from here. A gas company employee, Dustin Burwash, supposedly died from Creutzfeldt-Jakob."

"Huh?" Dean asked.

"Human mad-cow disease." I supplied. While I was writing the calculations I ended up tilting the notebook sideways.