Rating: PG - Gen - Humor
Disclaimers: SPN & characters are owned by their various creators.
Summary: Sam has a streak of bad luck.
Salt Lake City was everything Dean thought it would be and absolutely nothing like Sam expected.
All Sam heard all night long was how the drinks were cut, the girls freakishly chaste, the tequila double priced and how freaked out Dean was by that temple that sat in the middle of town. But love the Mormon Church or no, they owned and operated one of the most expansive and well archived genealogy libraries on the planet. Sam wasn't going to pass up a chance to check it out before duty called them elsewhere.
Of course he abused their hours by sitting in there all night drinking ice coffee after ice coffee. It was dawn by the time he got tired enough to call it quits. He didn't quite realize how many coffees, bottles of water and soda he had had until he left and was sitting uncomfortably in the car. It got worse and worse at each traffic light he had to stop at.
Sam nearly broke the sound barrier trying to get back to the motel. There was a moment of panic when he forgot their room number but he quickly called it to mind, coming to a screeching halt in the parking space right outside the door.
He almost couldn't stand up straight when he got out of the car. Reaching the door was like a profound joy. He had made it.
Just as he had his key in the lock he saw it.
There was a takeout menu stuck half way down the door. It only meant one thing. Dean had a girl in there.
Sam hissed to himself almost bouncing up and down in place.
He looked around frantically. It was broad daylight and he couldn't bring himself to relieve himself on the side of a building no matter how many dumpsters shielded him from any passerby. Sam almost considered walking right in the hopes that whatever they were doing was so involved that they didn't notice him do the 100 meter dash to the bathroom. He junked the idea as soon as it entered his head. With a groan his eyes fell on the car.
He scrambled back behind the wheel and made donuts before peeling out of the parking lot.
Of course there was a key. This disgusting grimy gas station couldn't just have anyone walking into those pristine halls, the palm fronded oasis of gleaming porcelain and--
Sam squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't even think about it or something horrible was going to happen.
Of course there was a line.
Sam watched the woman at the counter spend precious eternal seconds to pick a pack of cigarettes before handing the cashier the first of 3 declined credit cards.
He slammed down a twenty dollar bill on the glass topped counter with colorful scratch off lotto tickets displayed under it. The startled woman began to thank him but he was already ready to grab the confused and mostly bored teen behind the cash machine by his emo MCR T-shirt and start shaking him.
"Bathroom key." Sam simply said.
There must have been something strange in his eyes because the kid hurriedly fumbled around under the counter and produced a key that was attached to a hub cap by a chain.
He looked at the giant shiny thing attached to his salvation with momentary exasperation before he turned and stumbled out the door, nearly knocking over a startled and grumpy old lady in the process. Ignoring her receding screams, he ran around the corner narrowly avoiding an ice machine and stand up stacked display of engine oil. The bathrooms were always hidden behind these places and this one was no different, a small chain link fence with an open gate the only thing between him and pure blissful relief--
Sam felt himself yanked backwards, almost dislocating his shoulder in his speed. His back hit the ground and he lay startled for a moment wondering exactly what the hell could have happened. He looked up behind him, getting an upside down view of what had hindered him so cruelly.
The monstrous hubcap was stuck in the fence.
He stood up and regarded it grimly. Sam truly was considering gnawing the key free no matter where and what the thing had seen in its travels when the bathroom door behind him swung open.
A small boy eyed him.
Sam suspected it was appropriate as he was cursing and fighting a hubcap wedged in a chain link fence.
"DON'T SHUT THAT--"
It began to swing closed, swiftly retracted by the cheap spring attached to its hinge. He lunged towards the door and very unintentionally towards the now very wide eyed child.
It swung and clicked shut.
But there, in the boy's hand. Another giant tricked out hubcap. Without thinking, Sam desperately made for it...
The next thing he knew he was nursing his hand and watching the small boy scamper away as fast as he could.
"The little bastard just bit me." Sam said to no one at all.
He looked around. This was it. He had no other choice. Next to the ice machine in full view of oncoming traffic and soccer moms washing windshields sounded perfect to him.
Sam sat in the police station and waited. He really didn't think the handcuffs were necessary but they had insisted. He figured he would have been out of here after a fine but it turned out Sam had for some karmic reason left his wallet in the motel. Lucky for him, years of lying through his teeth and a perfect idea of how the police system worked had kept him from behind bars. Barely.
These Mormons were pretty intimidating.
He sighed and slumped down into the wooden bench, flinching whenever the female officer that had tossed him into the back of her squad car announced his crime much too loudly to the other Fuzz.
She finally sauntered over with some computer print outs.
"Well, your name checks out."
Sam sighed in relief. "Like I said, I'll pay whatever it is and I promise I'll never--"
"Yeah yeah," She said pulling out a loud ring of keys from her belt.
He rubbed his wrists when he was released. Sam fumbled with the forms she handed him and made to get the hell out of there before someone said 'indecent exposure' in his direction one more time.
"Stay out of trouble," She warned, glancing down at her release sheet one more time. "Dean Winchester."
"Will do, mam."
Sam was already out the door.
He tried to keep his head ducked down as he arrived back at the scene of his crime. Sam didn't really want anymore women pointing and screaming at him today. The car was right where he left it which was a pleasant surprise considering it all. He dug out the keys and sighed, thinking of how nice that motel bed was going to feel.
Sam's heart skipped a beat.
There was a long jagged scratch along the driver side door. Right through the paint job to the glitter of silver underneath. The horrible gash ended in an almost neat cursive that spelled:
I AM A LOSER
The palm's of his hands went to his forehead. "Oh...GOD."
"How you like that sonny!"
Sam swung around in his compounded bewildered frustration.
There was an old woman standing there behind him grinning as hard as she could. Sam blinked several times, his mind jumbled and frantic, realizing he'd seen her somewhere before.
She held up her car key. Surely the key that so defaced the Impala so savagely.
"Teach you to shove around your elders."
The old lady in the gas station doorway.
Sam watched her totter away in a numb blank state.
Pulling back into the motel parking lot felt like he was returning from some kind of war. He felt his jean pockets and sighed. He had lost his motel key somewhere along the way. Probably during the full body cavity search.
It was almost nightfall. He had been gone all day and all night, surely Dean had gotten rid of his bar find by now?
The girl signal menu was gone.
He twisted the knob hoping for the best. Oddly enough, it opened right up. Sam stumbled in with relief, shutting the door behind him and leaning against it.
"Um, who are you?"
"Oh." He said to a very confused and very naked girl that was sitting under a blanket in a very disheveled bed. "Hi."
The shower was running.
There seemed to be something just inherently wrong about having a conversation with some chick Dean had just cruised. And frankly, Sam wasn't in the mood no matter how pretty she was.
"I'm no one look, I'm really sorry, I'll just leave you alone in a sec..."
Sam swiped the wallet off the dresser as fast as he could and nodded back at her. "Just tell him I said hi, and I'll see him later."
She blinked at him several times. "O-Okay?"
Sam grabbed the brown jacket by the bed and yanked open the door swiftly, slamming it shut it behind him.
The sight that greeted him in the parking lot was confounding.
Dean was leaning on the Impala's hood and looking around. He caught sight of Sam and raised his hands up in question.
"Where the fuck have you been?"
Sam looked at Dean and then turned to look at the door he just shut.
"What you got a date or something?" Dean smirked, looking at the door in interest.
"Why aren't you in there?"
Dean looked at him in confusion. "What are you talking about? We're over there." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder to the opposite side of the parking lot. "I've been waiting around for you since this freakin' morning!"
Sam looked at the wallet in his hand.
"I think we should really get out of here."
"Like right now."
"I think I just robbed somebody and I was already at the police-- Nevermind."
"Hey!" Dean was suddenly distracted by his car door. "Dude, what the fuck happened to my--"
"No talking! Just get in Dean!" Sam urged, tossing the wallet at the door behind him and pitching the jacket into a bush.
"Fine, fine, keep your pants on..." Dean huffed, pulling the car door open. "I gotta tell you man, this day has been the worst...Lemme tell you about these pancakes I had. They gave me some wholewheat shit, dude, it was like eating something pried off the bottom of a cow hoof..."
Sam ducked into the passenger seat.
"What the hell happened to your hand?" Dean asked.
Sam pulled his hoodie down over his face and pulled the draw strings as tight at they could go. The car rumbled under them, tires rolling and turning onto the road.
He sighed into his hood. "Don't ask."