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Description
   Sam stooped, yanking his silver blade from the shifter's chest. Glancing up from the blood foaming out of the young man's mouth to look at his brother, he asked seriously, "Hey, don't you think that was too-" "Hard? Yeah. I would hate to do that again. Like, seriously." Dean said too loudly, cutting Sam off. Then he turned to the glass coffee table next to the body, wiping the fingerprints around the blood splatter off with a small rag. When his brother didn't move to help, he glanced up to see Sam staring at him like he was nuttier than a squirrel's nest. "Did you get hit in the head? These last three hunts have been particularly ea-" Sam said in exasperation, but was cut off again with,"Ssshhhh! It'll hear you!" hissed between Dean's lips.
   Pulling the knife closer to his body, Sam glanced swiftly around the dark room, out the shuttered windows, and down the long hallways. Seeing only mahogony bookcases, velveteen couches, a stone fireplace, the glass coffee table, and pictures with elaborate frames, he glanced suspiciously at Dean. "What will hear me?" he asked in a whisper. Turning to face Sam squarely from where he was now standing by the nearest bookcase, Dean deadpanned,"The universe will hear you, Sammy. The universe will hear you."
   At his partner's bewildered, and slightly exasperated, expression, he continued. "Don't look at me like that! Think about it. Since when have we Winchesters ever had any luck? I'll tell you when; never. So don't you dare jinx us now." Moving to wipe down the other well maintained bookshelf, Sam asked inquisitively, "Well, if we really do have such rotten luck, then isn't it possible that the luck we've been having here in London has just been false advertising? Isn't it possible that something really bad is about to happen, that the universe is just lulling us into a false sense of security?" Dean wipped around from where he was now standing at the fireplace to toss the dirty rag at his head. "Sammy! Didn't I just tell you not to jinx us?!" Dean shouted again, outraged this time. Sam pulled the rag from where it lay loosely on his head and rolled his eyes. "There are no such thing as jinxes, so stop freaking out and hurry up. We need to get in touch with that Jack What's-His-Name Cas told us about before he thinks we ditched him." he said, rasing his voice to compensate for the space between them, which increased as he moved down the main hallway."Fine, but if anything extra weird happens on this trip, I'm blaming you!" Dean called down the way, finishing his job and running to catch up with Sam's long legs.
   "Yeah, sure, whatever." responded Sam lazily, ducking to get into the passenger's side of the rental car. Dean climbed in and turned the car on. Neither spoke until they neared the first light, when Sam, seeing Dean having difficulty with the car, pointed left. "Thanks. This whole backwards roads thing is so confusing. Why can't England be normal like everybody else?" complained Dean. "Actually, most countries drive on the left side, Dean. We're the ones who will do everything we can to be different from Europe." said Sam, pointing to the right as they neared the next turn. "What? That's stupid." Dean wrinkled his nose. "Really? That's your argument? "That's stupid"? scoffed Sam. "Well, yeah, that and most people are right handed, so it'd be easier to drive on the right side." Dean moved his head to acknowledge his little brother. "Huh. Valid point." Sam responded as they pulled into the hotel parking lot.
   Ambling into their hotel room, Dean headed to turn on the t.v. while Sam turned on the light and pulled out his cell phone. "Hey...weren't we supposed to do this days ago?" Dean asked absentmindedly. "Nah, Cas wanted us to wait because Jack wouldn't be back from a trip until tonight." he replied, dialing Jack's number and putting it on speaker phone. "Hi, Jack." Sam called into the mic. "How did you get this number? How do you know my name?" a faint, American voice demanded. Sam walked over to Dean, turning the t.v. off and sitting down next to him. Dean groaned, but didn't protest otherwise. Then, turning back to the phone, Sammy replied hesitantly,"Cas gave it to my brother and me here...he did tell you about us, right?" "Cassie Louis? She's adding two more people into the mix? How interesting." Neither borther particularly liked Jack's tone. "First off, it's Cas, as in Castiel , not Cassie. Second, if you don't know who we are, then you'll soon find out. We're going start helping with the Daleks first thing in the morning, so tell us where you are and we'll be there to shoot your sorry butt if you're late." said Dean.
   Silence held on the other end for a long moment. "Meet me in Cardiff's Roald Dahl Plass at 11:30 tomorrow morning. I have questions I expect to be answered then." said Jack, and he hung up. Dean walked over to the mini fridge, pulling out two beers, of which he tossed one to Sam. He caught it deftly, but set it down on the counter. Setting his hand on the bathroom door knob, he turned to his brother with a confused expression. "I thought he was in London, so why Cardiff?" he asked, brows furrowed. "I don't know and I don't care. We need to get a move on before the police realize we've been here for days anyways." Dean replied, not paying Sammy half the attention he was giving the t.v. The sounds of the BBC's Merlin began to fill the room as he sat back against the pillows. "Yeah, but Cas said-oh, never mind." he finished lamely, shaking his drooped head.

Description
   Sam stooped, yanking his silver blade from the shifter's chest. Glancing up from the blood foaming out of the young man's mouth to look at his brother, he asked seriously, "Hey, don't you think that was too-" "Hard? Yeah. I would hate to do that again. Like, seriously." Dean said too loudly, cutting Sam off. Then he turned to the glass coffee table next to the body, wiping the fingerprints around the blood splatter off with a small rag. When his brother didn't move to help, he glanced up to see Sam staring at him like he was nuttier than a squirrel's nest. "Did you get hit in the head? These last three hunts have been particularly ea-" Sam said in exasperation, but was cut off again with,"Ssshhhh! It'll hear you!" hissed between Dean's lips.
   Pulling the knife closer to his body, Sam glanced swiftly around the dark room, out the shuttered windows, and down the long hallways. Seeing only mahogony bookcases, velveteen couches, a stone fireplace, the glass coffee table, and pictures with elaborate frames, he glanced suspiciously at Dean. "What will hear me?" he asked in a whisper. Turning to face Sam squarely from where he was now standing by the nearest bookcase, Dean deadpanned,"The universe will hear you, Sammy. The universe will hear you."
   At his partner's bewildered, and slightly exasperated, expression, he continued. "Don't look at me like that! Think about it. Since when have we Winchesters ever had any luck? I'll tell you when; never. So don't you dare jinx us now." Moving to wipe down the other well maintained bookshelf, Sam asked inquisitively, "Well, if we really do have such rotten luck, then isn't it possible that the luck we've been having here in London has just been false advertising? Isn't it possible that something really bad is about to happen, that the universe is just lulling us into a false sense of security?" Dean wipped around from where he was now standing at the fireplace to toss the dirty rag at his head. "Sammy! Didn't I just tell you not to jinx us?!" Dean shouted again, outraged this time. Sam pulled the rag from where it lay loosely on his head and rolled his eyes. "There are no such thing as jinxes, so stop freaking out and hurry up. We need to get in touch with that Jack What's-His-Name Cas told us about before he thinks we ditched him." he said, rasing his voice to compensate for the space between them, which increased as he moved down the main hallway."Fine, but if anything extra weird happens on this trip, I'm blaming you!" Dean called down the way, finishing his job and running to catch up with Sam's long legs.
   "Yeah, sure, whatever." responded Sam lazily, ducking to get into the passenger's side of the rental car. Dean climbed in and turned the car on. Neither spoke until they neared the first light, when Sam, seeing Dean having difficulty with the car, pointed left. "Thanks. This whole backwards roads thing is so confusing. Why can't England be normal like everybody else?" complained Dean. "Actually, most countries drive on the left side, Dean. We're the ones who will do everything we can to be different from Europe." said Sam, pointing to the right as they neared the next turn. "What? That's stupid." Dean wrinkled his nose. "Really? That's your argument? "That's stupid"? scoffed Sam. "Well, yeah, that and most people are right handed, so it'd be easier to drive on the right side." Dean moved his head to acknowledge his little brother. "Huh. Valid point." Sam responded as they pulled into the hotel parking lot.
   Ambling into their hotel room, Dean headed to turn on the t.v. while Sam turned on the light and pulled out his cell phone. "Hey...weren't we supposed to do this days ago?" Dean asked absentmindedly. "Nah, Cas wanted us to wait because Jack wouldn't be back from a trip until tonight." he replied, dialing Jack's number and putting it on speaker phone. "Hi, Jack." Sam called into the mic. "How did you get this number? How do you know my name?" a faint, American voice demanded. Sam walked over to Dean, turning the t.v. off and sitting down next to him. Dean groaned, but didn't protest otherwise. Then, turning back to the phone, Sammy replied hesitantly,"Cas gave it to my brother and me here...he did tell you about us, right?" "Cassie Louis? She's adding two more people into the mix? How interesting." Neither borther particularly liked Jack's tone. "First off, it's Cas, as in Castiel , not Cassie. Second, if you don't know who we are, then you'll soon find out. We're going start helping with the Daleks first thing in the morning, so tell us where you are and we'll be there to shoot your sorry butt if you're late." said Dean.
   Silence held on the other end for a long moment. "Meet me in Cardiff's Roald Dahl Plass at 11:30 tomorrow morning. I have questions I expect to be answered then." said Jack, and he hung up. Dean walked over to the mini fridge, pulling out two beers, of which he tossed one to Sam. He caught it deftly, but set it down on the counter. Setting his hand on the bathroom door knob, he turned to his brother with a confused expression. "I thought he was in London, so why Cardiff?" he asked, brows furrowed. "I don't know and I don't care. We need to get a move on before the police realize we've been here for days anyways." Dean replied, not paying Sammy half the attention he was giving the t.v. The sounds of the BBC's Merlin began to fill the room as he sat back against the pillows. "Yeah, but Cas said-oh, never mind." he finished lamely, shaking his drooped head.