Supernatural: Next Generation

( Cut from 1x12, after Ben and Jesse fight )

- THEN -

NOW

All things considered, it was proving to be a good week. Las Vegas had a way of getting under anyone’s skin and making them feel more alive, and getting back to playing cards again after such a long sting without it felt great. They’d left at least three tables with a decent amount of money; more than enough to pay for a few nights in a good hotel and splurge in ways they normally didn’t. The only other time he’d held that much money in his hands was when he’d first taken up with Claire and sold his car. It felt good, having money that was untraceable. Lord knew, Jesse had mostly conned their way into hotels ever since the whole thing with his being tracked through his cash-creating.

Ben frowned at the thought and the person tied to it. He and Jesse had barely spoken more than twenty words to each other since they left Vermont, and Ben had a pretty good idea it was only just to keep Claire from being concerned. He could tell she still was, though, by the fact that she kept watching them so intensely. Ben knew Claire was smart. Perhaps that’s why she’d made a point of giving them time alone by taking a hefty amount of the money they’d made and taking a ‘spa day,’ whatever that meant. Ben imagined mud baths and pedicures were involved, and hoped that if she did get a massage that it was by a woman. He didn’t really like the idea of some Vegas guy feeling up Claire.

Not knowing what else to do, Ben had opted to go back to the hotel. Jesse hadn’t come with. It had been the first time he’d been alone by himself in weeks, and he had no idea what to do. Fortunately, their hotel also came with a pool table, but after three speed rounds and then several imposed handicaps, that got boring. He found himself flipping through the hotel’s event brochure book, trying to find something that catered to his interests.

Jesse came through the door looking distracted and jumped a foot when he spotted Ben. “Shit. Thought you’d be out or something,” he said, pausing an awkward moment before going through the open bathroom door. Even in the vastness of their Las Vegas style hotel room, Ben heard the very distinct sound of water on porcelain. He rolled his eyes and kept looking.

( Inconsiderate ass )

***

A ‘Spa Day’ in Vegas was unlike any ‘spa day’ Claire had ever experienced--mostly in the fact that she had never actually experienced one in her entire life. When they arrived the other day, the hotel concierge absolutely insisted that she give it a try while they were in town, and it seemed like a safe, relaxing time to get away from the guys while they beat the tension out of each other, if need be.

Claire could thank running into Kat for that realization: that Jesse and Ben were both very affected by her constant presence--and not always positively. She hadn’t known the exact cause, but there were tensions between them again, and they were holding back--for her sake. It came to the point where she had to take a step back, and hope for the best. It was more than a little nerve wracking (hence the ‘spa day’ decision), but she trusted them both, and her faith in them and how well she knew them both helped Claire get through the massage by Joch (the most effeminate man she’d ever met), the Swedish mud bath (which was just weird), the mani-pedi (clear polish only), and the trim & style for her hair.

Unfortunately, all that only ate up three hours. The other four, Claire had spent in a small casino, doing what she’d learned to do best--look innocent and naive, while cleaning up the gambling budgets of men of all ages.

Now, with the desert sun-set starting to marry blue sky with oranges and pinks, and after instructing Ben through text messages to bring himself and Jesse down to the circle drive in front of the hotel.

“You seriously won these?” Lucas asked her, toeing up to the curb next to Claire. She’d called him for a little help with her good-luck streak in order to surprise the boys. Her grin was bright and bold beneath the reflective Aviators that sat on her slightly sunburned nose. The silver trimmed 2005 Yamaha Roadstar Warrior he’d ridden from the dealership (whose owner Claire had completely taken in) was propped by the side walk right behind its twin--which Claire was languidly sitting on.

( “Viva Las Vegas.” )

***

Four days into their trip, Ben started getting antsy. He’d already started researching again, choosing to stay at the hotel on two separate awake-hour occasions while Jesse and Claire went out into the city. Of course, by the second one they were ragging him like mad -- not that he was complaining, given their choice methods -- so he tried to keep the researching down to late nights, and even then there had been... distractions. Lucas was supposed to be doing their researching, one of them had said. Ben couldn’t quite remember who said it, given the fact that he’d had very specific hands on his body at the time.

Nevertheless, he felt like he’d had his fill of rest and relaxation, and with his “piggy bank” recently re-filled and feeling more relaxed than he had in weeks, the three of them decided to pay Lucas one last visit to get info and maybe treat the guy to a night on the town. He deserved it, after all the work they’d imposed on him.

The desert dust coiled at her boots as they dropped from the Honda’s footrests, and braced the still rumbling motorcycle between her legs. After prying off the full-face helmet and smoothing her hair, she glanced behind her, watching Jesse pull up behind her, followed shortly by Ben in the GTO. Having the bikes had been a blast, but they weren’t practical, no matter how pretty--Claire was content to imagine the look on Lucas’s face when she got around to telling him they were his to keep. Good way to end a vacation.

She killed the engine and kicked down the stand, squinting into the sunset as Lucas’s footsteps greeted them from the walk.

“Y’know, if you’re going for a sneak attack sometime, the full convoy probably isn’t the most subtle choice,” he said, walking up to Claire with a grin.

Dismounting, Jesse was careful to keep his attention to situating his helmet; they’d be rid of Lucas soon enough. The door to the GTO closed with a muted clap and then Ben slid up to Jesse’s side, making sure to give him a not-so-subtle look over and a quick wink while attention wasn’t on them before giving a nod of greeting to Lucas.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of us already! We haven’t even been here a whole week.”

“Oh I’m always on my toes around hunters,” Lucas teased, nodding at Claire. “Especially the pretty ones. They’ll get you every time.” Claire’s smirk dipped deep into her cheek, but it was still pleasant. That was good enough a comment on that subject from her.

“You’re right, though,” she moved on, swinging her leg off the bike and snagging the keys in one smooth movement. Then next placed those keys in Lucas’s palm when she went to shake it in greeting. “Good way to remember us, I think?”

Lucas’s brow furrowed as he looked down at his hand, then back at her. “Seriously? You’re giving it to me?” His mouth twitched in a smile before he shook his head. “No, no payment needed. It doesn’t work that way.”

“Well it’s not like we can just take ‘em with us,” Ben answered, his brows arching slightly. “And we’re gonna need your help in the future, man.” Claire nodded, and her smile went a little lopsided.

“Use’em as bargaining chips, or somethin’.”

“Toldja, I don’t need payment. I got all the money I need,” he said with a smile.

Glancing at the house, Jesse gave a faint snort. Ben promptly punched him lightly in the shoulder.

Raising an eyebrow at him, Lucas’s smile never wavered. “It’s what’s on the inside that counts, man. Books, gear, and information are worth more than a McMansion. Not to mention a few lucrative patents and a few projects that’ll be in every household in America in a few years. But I could use the bikes, if you really don’t need them,” he said, turning back to Ben and Claire. “Always good to have something more to tinker with.”

“They’re yours,” Claire said, settling it with a warm smile, and a helmet pushed lightly into Lucas’s arms before heading toward the house.

“So long as we can borrow them when we’re in town,” Ben added as he followed a few steps behind them.

“Well, I’ll be sure to keep one of them in one piece then,” Lucas said with a laugh.

Helmet and keys in hand, Jesse followed with a scowl. “Won’t be long, right?” he said, just quiet enough for Ben to hear. Ben nodded rather than verbally answering, watching Lucas as he all but fluttered around Claire like a moth around a flame. It took a lot of effort to keep from frowning.

( “So I did more digging up on the Nephilim, like you asked...” )

Almost all the driving since Vermont had been either him or Claire, and Ben was starting to get annoyed with it. In fact, he was starting to get annoyed with a lot of things, the more he thought about them. Like how Jesse constantly complained every time they researched, or how he never seemed to take his studying seriously, or how -- when they were working a job -- he was always looking for the easy option rather than taking the necessary steps to get it done right. Hunters had tried and true methods, but nothing seemed to apply to him. Not even taking his turn driving. It was getting on his nerves. Claire didn’t seem to mind though, so for her sake he kept his agitation inside and unseen on his face.

“So we’re going to Kat’s contact’s place first?” Ben asked, wanting to be sure. They were maybe an hour outside of the city limits still, and from what Claire had gotten from the phone call earlier, Lucas didn’t live in the city proper but rather on the edges of it.

“Might as well.” Claire eased back a bit more against the front seat, arranging her hair out from behind her shoulder blades. She had her bare feet propped out the side of the open passenger window, crossed at the ankles. The wind on the soles of her feet was a strange sort of soothing. “See if anything’s up in the city--” unlike their last attempt at a vacation.

Jesse gave a light snort. “It’s Vegas. Something better be up. Or else the films are all lies.” Already slouched, he turned to sprawl across the backseat. His ass was going numb.

“All films are lies,” Claire reminded him lazily. She reached for the liter to-go cup from the 7-Eleven three hours back, only to find a disappointing mixture of flat, watered down Pepsi on the first sip. Her nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Oh I dunno, Highway was pretty accurate,” Ben said distractedly as he wrestled with the map, one hand holding the wheel steady.

Jesse raised his head slightly but decided it wasn’t worth it. “Alright. Take your word for it.” After a deep breath he said, “How much longer to Vegas?”

“‘bout an hour, maybe?” Claire pushed the cup back to its holder, lolling her head toward Ben and his fight with the map. “How’bout I handle that for a while, huh?” For all his talents, multitasking while driving was not one of them.

Ben passed her the map without further prompting, glad to have one less thing to worry about. “What exit do we need to get off on?”

“Kilgore Road.” Claire blanketed herself with the map, already fighting with the task of refolding it. “Lucas apparently lives just outside an old Industrial park.”

“Seriously?” Jesse rolled his eyes. “Why can’t you know people with big houses and pools?”

Ben clenched his jaw and kept quiet. Claire paused, then pulled her feet out of the window so she could sit up and turn around enough to look at Jesse over her shoulder.

“You in a hurry to go back to a pool?” she asked him pointedly.

Jesse went quiet a moment, a little red rising to his cheeks. “Well an unhaunted one might be nice.”

“What’s the exit number?” Ben asked, brushing the topic under the rug before it got any steam.

***

The narrow townhouse didn’t look any different from the others along the street, except for small things. The grass was dead or dirt; there were no curtains on the windows; no name on the mailbox out front. Jesse’s face was squinched tight but he didn’t say anything as they headed up the short steps to the door.

When they hit the doorbell, there was a buzz from the living room, but an echoed chime from somewhere higher, and a ringing from inside the garage. That’s where a sudden clatter of falling metal came from, too, before the intercom at the door crackled with static.

“Shit. Hello?”

Claire’s brows arched high, sharing a look between both Ben and Jesse before turning to the intercom.

( “Not interrupting, are we?” )

***

The slap of coins on fake wood lacquer stuck out from between the clack of billiard balls and the white noise around them. Claire picked her hand up from the stack of quarters that represented her claim on the next game. The way her grin leaned matched the confidence of the gesture perfectly.

She was rewarded with dubious looks, raised eyebrows, and bright, drunken grins. Perfect.

“You plan on takin’ us both on, Barbie?” The closest of the two Delta-Chi’s chimed in from his lean near the rack. He looked like he just stepped out of a campus-awareness safety video; perfect teeth, dimples, and a look of undeniable entitlement. Claire smiled sweetly at him.

“Two against one doesn’t really seem fair,” the other said. Though from the way he was eyeballing her, he obviously thought very differently of the scenario.

“Oh, I thought this was for the winner?” she sparked the innocence in her eyes--so easily faked, because she could remember the difference so well. A sheepish smile and an easily conjured blush was the icing on her cake. “Really, either way. I need the practice.”

“Oh, we can help you with that,” the first responded. She met his eyes with the chirp of a girlish giggle, and ran a hand through her hair. He looked like a Toby. Tobias. Something rich or snobbish sounding.

( “If you say so. What’re we playin’?” )

***

Checking his reflection in the mirror, Ben’s brows furrowed. He didn’t really do suits. He owned exactly two, and only for playing roles on cases. Neither of them had really been high roller poker room material, so they’d had to go “shopping.”

Ben didn’t really do shopping, either.

He and Jesse still weren’t talking, so Claire had to pick it out for him. She’d assured him that he looked good when he tried it on. She refused to let him see her try on her dress, though. Had he not been itching to get out of there as quickly as possible, he might have pouted.

“We’re gonna be late to the show!” Ben called out, his hands smoothing over his hair for what could have been the twentieth time since he’d slicked it back.

“We still have a half-hour,” Claire called back from the bathroom--the huge bathroom, compared to most of the Super 8’s or Ramada Inn’s they’d been staying at for the last who-knew-how-long. She checked herself in the mirror one last time, deft fingertips tucking a wide curl that fell from the rest. It refused to cooperate, so it remained laying loose on her shoulder. Claire had mastered many things for necessity in the last decade. Doing her hair for prom wasn’t one of them.

With one last swipe of cherry lip-gloss over her lips, she rolled them, then turned for the main room. Thin heels (that could easily be kicked off if she needed to run or fight something off) clicked on the bathroom tile under a drape of rich teal silk. Caught in the orange sunset through the window, it glowed with the same hue as her eyes.

“Ready?”

Ben caught the color of the dress in the mirror and turned, then saw her. The light made her hair shine like spun gold. Everything about her was made even more radiant in that moment. He felt like he couldn’t breathe.

My god.

Jesse had been slowly pacing the room, trying to pretend the air wasn’t heavy between him and Ben. He couldn’t help shooting a couple glances at Ben’s back, though. He hadn’t thought Ben could pull off sophisticated. He was wrong.

Claire’s entrance into the room was like a breath of air, and Jesse paused before grinning wide, very glad he didn’t have to sneak admiring glances at her.

( “You look so good in that, I wanna tear it right off you.” )

***

He’d seen movies and television shows that took place in Las Vegas poker rooms before, but nothing really could prepare Ben for what reality was like. There were so many people crowding the small spaces that it almost made it hard to even breathe. Getting to a table just to play was an obstacle, but once he was settled in, all the background noise faded from his mind. It was one of the only things he was genuinely good at that didn’t require putting his own life or the lives of others at risk, and it showed on in his eyes. He would have smiled, but smiling wasn’t exactly something a person did while playing poker.

Once the cards were dealt -- two down, one up (six of spades) -- Ben reached for his cards and gave them a quick glance. He just barely bit back a smirk, sliding them down on the table again and waiting until the lowest top card player placed their bet before adding in his.

“So do they flip over the two cards that are facedown, or do they stay down?” Jesse whispered close into Claire’s ear. They were far enough from the table that no one was likely to think they were helping someone cheat, but he figured it was better to keep his complete lack of knowledge about the game on the down ow. Plus it meant he had an excuse to lean in close to Claire.

“They stay down until the hand is called,” she whispered back, canting her head a bit toward Jesse from their vantage point above the table. Separated by a railing, the high roller’s and VIP section was sunk half a floor from the rest of the casino, giving the illusion of some expensively decorated, neon lighted gladitorial arena. The cinch of her waist leaned against the railing, most of her turned into Jesse--a stance that kept leerers, players, and other stragglers well enough away from them, but her eyes were on Ben.

“He’s riding the lowest bid, I bet.” Her lips quirked in a half-smile, which seemed connected to one arched brow. “Not drawing attention to himself, or his hand.”

( “Now you’re just making it sound dirty.” )

***

It took Lucas three trips to bring everything into the living room, spreading notes and books of various degrees of deterioration across the coffee table. He was practically bouncing with each step. From his spot leaning against the wall, Jesse was only just holding back a smirk.

“You guys brought me a real stumper,” he said, finally sitting down with a grin. “I mean, as far as I can tell, these could be run-of-the-mill demons just pulling off something we’ve never heard of before. I have some options, though.”

“Options are good,” Ben replied with a nod, sitting up from his slouch in the armchair and pulling his legs back in against it. “‘Cuz I’m still sold on them not being run-of-the-mill grunts.”

“Me too,” Claire chimed in, though quietly. She folded her arms across her chest and shifted weight, leaning on a support beam nearby.

“Well, the first thing that comes to mind is an incubus. The thing I can’t get over, though, is that this just isn’t how incubi work,” he said, arms spread wide as he leaned forward. “They generally target just one woman at a time, the nicer ones in their sleep. A whole group like this, I can’t find any reference for, although the mindlessness you described kind of sounds like the long-term effect of incubi and succubi.”

Ben frowned a little, his eyes drifting off to the floor. His voice was low and barely a mutter when he spoke: “Incubi and succubi don’t possess people, though.” Claire’s eyes glazed, then sharpened a bit--but they remained on Lucas.

“Not necessarily.” Lucas practically beamed as he opened the oldest tome to a yellow post-it note. “The Malleus Malificarum mentions they can be beaten with exorcism. That might imply that they can possess if they want. And if the goal is pregnancy, their needing human sperm would make sense.”

“Do you know of anyone who’s seen one?” Claire asked, picking her words a bit carefully.

“Not personally, no. Stories I’ve heard were always friend of a friend type of things, y’know?” he said with a shrug.

Ben chewed his lip, making a show of considering the option even though he knew it wasn’t so. “Did you have any other theories aside from incubi and succubi?”

( “Well, there’s something I came across, but I don’t even know if they’re real. Never heard of a hunter coming across them, at least. Grigori. You know the term at all?” )

TO BE CONTINUED...