Dean swerved the Impala slowly into the gravel area at the front of the small motel. Sam looked out the window, and squinted in the dark at the building they were staying in; at a glance, Sam guessed that it could only hold around twenty guests, and he wouldn’t be surprised if they were the only guests inhabiting it for the suivant few nights. The exterior looked a little worse for wear, and the bricks had begun to deteriorate and crumble from the harsh winters the area had had in récent years. There was only one light on, which looked like the reception at the front of the building, and Sam could see from where he was that it was hanging par a single light bulb. In a sentence...
“This looks crap, Dean.”
“C’mon, Sammy, we’ve stayed in worse.”
Sam gave an agreeing, mutual look, partly because he was too tired to argue, but mostly because it was absolutely true. They had definitely stayed in worse. And while it was looking as though there wasn’t a great deal of attraction in the place for Sam, Dean was still hopeful about getting laid. ou at least a drink with her in the motel bar (if it even had a bar, Dean thought), ou something.
Dean stopped the car and opened the Impala door as he climbed out and stretched his legs, and Sam followed suit. It was a fairly roomy car, but even so, being stuck in there for eight hours at a time wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences. Sam’s knees cracked loudly as he stood up to his full height and leaned against the roof of the car both brothers had grown up with. After a moment’s recovery from the cramped conditions in the car, both brothers headed up the small driveway up the motel’s main entrance and wandered inside.
They were greeted par a knarled oak reception desk, behind which stood a pretty woman. Rating her while he was at it, Dean estimated that she was around mid-twenty’s, and was dressed in a kaki tank haut, retour au début and jeans, which complimented her cascading, shoulder-length blonde hair perfectly. Dean smirked to himself and addressed her before Sam could open his mouth.
“Hi, we’re here to check in. Under the name Young? We booked a few days ago. Are toi Amy?”
The girl smiled. “Er, yeah. That’s me. I remember, toi wanted to stay for how many nights?”
“Well, we’re here on business, and our job’s kind of open-ended, so we’re not sure. Can we pay daily and inform toi the night before what we’re doing?”
“Sure, that works. I’ll just get your key.”
Amy turned round and searched the shelves behind her, each of which held a key. Dean peered over the counter to check her cul, ass out, and Sam caught him and gave him one of his looks. Dean mouthed “hot” over his shoulder and Sam rolled his eyes silently.
Amy turned round on her heel to face them again and lay a bulky key on the bureau in between them. Dean glanced at the number, 17, and took it. Amy looked at Sam briefly, and then focused on Dean again. Charming, Sam thought. Sam nudged his brother’s shoulder.
“We should get some sleep,” he said, nodding towards the clock in the motel lobby. It read at ten past eleven. Had the drive really taken them that long?
Dean pulled himself away from Amy’s eyes and looked at his brother, then nodded in agreement. He had to admit, he was shattered from being behind the Impala’s wheel all day, though it was far from the first time they’d driven all day. Both Winchesters a dit goodnight and went through to the room suivant door to climb a short staircase with a worn, démodé, old-fashioned carpet, following directions from Amy. They reached the top, turned left and found their room.
The room was small, to say the least. It would just about big enough for two tall young men to live in for a few days, probably, thought it wasn’t going to be comfortable. In the centre were two twin beds, separated par a chest of drawers, and the bathroom turned off to the left. Sam and Dean wandered in, tossed their few bags onto the beds and sat down. While Sam went to have a shower, Dean, who was used to sleeping in his clothes, just took his over-shirt and jeans off. He really hadn’t realised how tired he was until he lay back onto the dust-smelling covers.
Sam came out of the bathroom, turned off the light and got into bed.
“So,” he began, wanting to wind his brother up, “Amy and toi seem pretty...um...comfortable together.”
“Yeah, she’s hot. I’m in there, Sammy. I’m in there.”
And with that, Dean Winchester fell into a much needed and deserved sleep. Sam smiled at his brother and did likewise.