Winchesters (Supernatural Fanfiction/Genderswap)

Chapter XIX: Drinking and Sneaking

Sam and Deanna drove to the town of the asylum, ready to investigate and kill whatever had gotten to that cop. They first needed to talk to the partner, though. Sam tracked him down to a bar downtown and Deanna was all too eager to jump in and play pretend.

She sat down near the officer at the bar, playing dumb at first to get him talk easier. Never jump into asking questions, her father told her when she was younger. Jump in too soon, too rough, and with a cover? You'll never get anything out of them.

"You're Daniel Gunderson, right? The cop?" She flashed a pretty smile, hoping to keep his attention no matter her cover. Deanna had been pulling her shirt down, shorts up, and glossing her lips for witnesses like this guy since before she was eighteen. She liked to rough people up in back allies as much as her father, but buttering men up was much easier.

"Yeah," Gunderson replied, trying to look into her eyes instead of at her breasts. He was almost done with his beer and Deanna had been hovering long enough to know that was his second or third, so she knew he would be more willing to talk. Or hopefully he would be. He had sat silently at the bar for a long time before Deanna came over.

Now was definitely time to make her move--before he was too drunk or upset to give clear answers. "I'm Naomi Tufnel from the Chigaco Tribune," she introduced, still smiling. She wasn't dressed much like a reporter, but Gunderson hopefully wouldn't notice. "Do you mind if I ask you a couple questions about your partner?"

Gunderson sighed. "Yeah, I do actually," he replied but not rudely. "I'm just trying to have a couple beers here."

"Don't worry. It won't take long. I just wanna hear the story in your words, sir," Deanna replied, leaning forward toward him.

"A week ago, my partner was sittin' in that chair there, and now he's dead," Gunderson said, annoyed but mostly tired. "Are you really gonna ambush me here?"

Deanna made eye-contact with Sam a few tables away. Plan B it was. "I'm sorry but I need to know what happened-"

"Hey!" Sam said as she came up. "Back off, lady. The man's an officer of the law you need to learn respect."

Deanna scoffed at her. "I'm a reporter-"

"I don't care," Sam said. "Get out. Now."

"You want the old man to yourself, honey-bunches? Have him then. I've got bigger stories to cover." Deanna stomped out, glaring as she left.

The few men standing nearby shrugged and went back to their pool game, Sam wondering how she could spin this. Luckily, Gunderson was going to give her the in she needed on his own. "You didn't have to do that."

"No, I did. Reporters are nosy and don't know when to quit. I just broke up with one." She sighed then looked at him. "I couldn't help but overhear and it sounds like you need more to drink." Sam ordered two more bears and sat down with Gunderson. "Mind if I sit here?"

"No, it's fine. Thank you."

"No problem, sir."

Half an hour later, Sam walked out after hearing Gunderson rant about his dead partner and telling a fake story about her fake and horrible boyfriend, the reporter with sleazy hands. Dean huffed as she saw Sam, ready to finally go. "You took long enough."

"You're the one who told me that you have to ease into it. I wasn't gonna flash my boobs and get him talking, Deanna."

"Whatever," Deanna waved off. "What did you find out?"

"Walter Kelly was a good cop," Sam started. "He was head of his class, even-keeled. He had a bright future ahead of him."

"Well, what about home?" Deanna asked.

"He and his wife had a few fights--like everybody--but it was mostly smooth sailing. They were even talking about having kids."

"Alright so either Kelly had some deep-seated crazy brewing and waiting to pop out or something else did this to him. What did Gunderson say about the asylum?"

Sam huffed. "A lot. Even for a ranting drunk guy."

*****

Sam and Deanna climbed over the chain-link fence easily and walk into the abandoned asylum against all horror movie logic, which could be said for their whole lives...