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#MUY DUDES MY SILLY AND STUPID GUYS
turnoftherogue · 7 years
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Pig and Pepper Part 1
Masterlist
Sam and Dean stood in a garage with their shirt sleeves rolled up staring at the car before them. Some guy had smashed through the windscreen of the car while it was parked where it stood now. It was supposedly the car James Dean had died in and Dean had been tasked with checking to see if it was true. They stared at it uncertainly.
"You want me to do it?" Sam asked.
"No... no, no I've got it." Dean approached the car. "Okay baby I'm not gonna hurt you, so ...don't hurt me." He told it as he slid underneath it on a roller board.
"I wasn't planning to." Came a voice from the other side of the car. Dean jumped banging his head on the bottom of the car. "You Okay under there?" Laceys face appeared underneath the car.
"Yes, geez Lace." She smiled at him and stood back up. Dean took a rubbing of the number on the engine and rolled back out from under the car. Lacey was standing next to Sam now. She was wearing a blue and black striped jumper that hung off one of her shoulders with a short black skirt, black patterned tights and stiletto boots. Dean glanced at her appreciatively as he got to his feet. He handed the number to Sam.
"Find out who owned it. Not just the last owner, you gotta take it all the way back to 1955."
"That's a lot of research."
"Well I guess I just made your afternoon." Dean said as they exited the garage.
"What's going on?" Lacey asked.
"Killer car." Lacey raised an eyebrow. "How was the spa thing?"
"Bath house. It was OK once I got through to them that I wasn't taking all of my clothes off." Dean chuckled.
"If I'd have known it was that kind of place I might have come with you." Lacey gave him a shove knocking the wind out of him a little.
"I did get my nails done too." She proffered her hands, the nails covered in glitter and bows.
"Yikes." Dean said raising both his eyebrows.
"You want me to shove you again?" Lacey asked playfully.
"No ma'am. Dean replied. Lacey laughed and linked arms with him as they headed back to the Impala.
A while later they were sat in their motel room, Sam doing research on his laptop, Lacey had kicked her boots off and had her feet up on one of the beds watching a movie. Dean opened a bottle of beer and sat down next to her.
"What we watching?"
"A Good Woman." Lacey said, her eyes transfixed on the screen.
"Right." Sam said from across the room. " I've managed to trace all of the cars previous owners."
"Any of 'em die bloody?"
"Nope, in fact the cars first owner was a cardiologist in Philadelphia, drove it till he died in 1972."
"So you're saying?"
"That Porsche is not, nor has it ever been James Dean's car. It's a fake little bastard."
"Well then what was it that killed the guy?"
"Good question."
The following morning Sam was awoken by his phone going off. He blearily reached for it and flipped it open.
"Hello?" As he sat up he glanced across the room. Lacey was curled up next to Dean, the TV still playing whatever channel it had been left on the previous night. "There's been another killing?" Sam asked focusing back on the phone call. "OK we'll be right there." Sam climbed out of bed. "Dean, Lacey." he shook Laceys shoulder and she woke up with a start.
"What's going on?"
"There's been another murder." Sam told her as Dean stirred from the other side of the bed.
"I'll get ready." Lacey replied as she jumped out of bed and went to the bathroom.
"Huh?" Dean asked shaking the cobwebs away.
"Just get ready dude." Sam said shaking his head. He began pulling clothes out of his bag. When he was sure they couldn't be overheard he turned back to Dean.
"Do you know what you're doing?" He asked. Dean stared at him as if he was stark raving bonkers.
"Getting dressed." He said slowly as if he was talking to a child.
"No I mean about Lacey."
"Oh." Dean shrugged. "There's no need to get a bug up your butt. She just ends up falling asleep with me watching movies. It's a pretty regular thing. Think she just likes the company." Sam studied him for a moment.
"And that's it?" Dean raised his eyebrows and grinned at him.
"For now."
"Dean." Sam warned. "I don't think…" Dean waved him off.
"I'm not stupid Sam. She's not your average girl I get that." Sam was about to reply when the bathroom door opened and Lacey stepped out. She was wearing jeans and black boots with a grey and pink baseball shirt. Her wet hair was pulled into a plait to one side of her head and a black hat was shoved over the top. Dean avoided the rest of the conversation by darting into the bathroom behind her and shutting the door. Lacey looked at Sam.
"What's his rush?" Sam shrugged his shoulders and went back to getting ready.
Half an hour later they were stood outside an office building surrounded by cops. Dean approached one of the officers in charge.
"Heard you got another weird one."
"Uh well it's a … little strange on the surface, I admit but uh, you know once you look at the facts…"
"William Hill died from a gunshot wound to the head. No gun, no gun powder, no bullet." Sam butted in.
"Nope nothing strange about that." Dean said giving the cop a look.
"Well there's gotta be a reasonable explanation. There always is."
"Well what's your reasonable explanation?" Dean asked. The Cop leant in and whispered.
"Professional killer."
"Come again?" Sam asked.
"Well CIA, NSA one o' them trained assassins, like in Michael Clayton." They stared at him.
"Right." Dean dragged the word out.
"You're welcome to look around but those guys don't leave finger prints."
"Mind if we talk with the witness?" Sam asked.
"Be my guest. She's not making any sense! And she's not making any sense in Spanish either."
"Right." Dean said again and they headed outside to find the witness.
"Consuela Alvarez?" Dean asked as they approached.
"Yes?" The woman asked looking up at them.
"FBI." Dean said and they showed her their badges. "Now uh, you said you saw something in the professors house right? Something in the window?"
"Estaba sacundo la basura Imire por la ventana y vi al hombre que mato al Senor Hill!" Dean looked to Sam.
"Uh Senora Alvarez. Calmese, por favor. Uh diganos lo que vio?"
"Nice." Dean grinned at him.
"Freshman Spanish." Sam shrugged.
"Era Alto. Muy Alto. Y Ilevaba el abrigo negro largo y tenia bigotes!"
"Okay uh, a tall man, very tall. With a long black coat and a… a beard?" He looked at the woman for clarification and she nodded.
"Beard." Sam nodded.
"Y un sombrero." The woman continued.
"Dude was wearing a sombrero?" Dean asked incredulously. Lacey giggled.
"Uh, a hat, not a…" Sam looked at her questioningly.
"no, no, no un sombrero alto."
"A tall hat?"
"Oh like a top hat?"
"Un sombrero alto. Muy alto" The woman said putting her hand above her head.
"What you mean like a stovepipe hat?" Dean asked imitating her gesture.
"Si."
"Oh yeah, like Abraham Lincoln."
"Si. El Presidente Lincoln." They looked at her confused. "Abraham Lincoln kill Mister Hill!"
"Huh."
"So I go home now?" She asked.
"Uh Si Gracias." Sam nodded to her.
"Gracias." Dean added as she got up.
Later they returned to the motel to do some more research as nothing the witness had said had really helped. Sam sat at the table surfing the web for any info while Dean, using a computer borrowed from the police station, re-watched the video of Cal Hawkins death. Lacey sat next to him her arms crossed on the table, her chin resting against them. She winced at the sight of the blood spattered across the windscreen.
"Whoa." Dean paused the video and leant forward peering at the screen.
"What?" Sam asked. Dean scrolled through the freeze frames for a moment before settling on one.
"It's a freeze frame from Jim Grossmans video." Sam and Lacey leant forward too. Dean was suddenly aware of how close Laceys' body was to his. Dean cleared his throat. "Am I crazy or does that look like James Dean?" He asked pointing at a reflection in one of the cars wheels.
"That looks like James Dean." Sam clarified.
"So we got Abraham Lincoln and James Dean? Famous ghosts?" He asked sceptically.
"Maybe."
"Well that's just silly." Dean leant back in his chair.
"No actually there's a ton of lore on famous ghosts. More than the, you know, not famous kinds. I'm actually surprised we haven't run into one before."
"Any Audrey Hepburn sightings?" Lacey asked sounding excited.
"Not that I can remember." Sam replied raising an eyebrow at her.
"Oh." Lacey said her smile falling, she slumped back in her chair.
"Yeah but now we got two of 'em?" Dean continued the conversation. "Two extremely pissed off ghosts?"
"Who are apparently ganking their fans."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"Professor Hill was a civil war nut." Sam said indicating the page he had been reading. "He dug Lincoln."
"And Cal must have been a James Dean freak." Dean added putting the pieces together. "He spent seventeen years of his life tracking down the guys car. So you're saying we've got two super famous, super pissed off ghosts killing their… super fans?"
"That's what it looks like." Sam shrugged his shoulders.
"OK not so sad about Audrey Hepburn now." Lacey said perking up. Dean shook his head.
"Well that is muchos locos." Sam smiled.
"Muy." Both Lacey and Dean cocked their heads comically at the same time. Sam laughed. Not muchos."
"Yeah well the big question is what the hell are they doing here?"
"Yeah. Ghosts usually haunt the places they live. I mean, I get Abraham Lincoln at the White House …"
"And James Dean at a race track, but what the hell are they doing in Canton?" Sam shrugged his shoulders and began typing away on his laptop. Dean left him to it and got up from the table. He pulled a soda out of the fridge and offered one to Lace. She smiled and took it from him, their hands brushing slightly. Dean felt a jolt go through him, like an electric shock. Lacey blushed and turned to sit back down. Not even sure what he was doing Dean reached out and put a hand on her arm to stop her. Ash she turned back to him a look of surprise on her face, Sam exclaimed;
"You gotta be kidding me?"
"What?" Dean asked quickly moving to look over Sams shoulder at the screen.
"You gotta be kidding me." Dean repeated as he read what was on the screen.
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