The characters of Dean and Sam Winchester are from the TV series Supernatural and are owned by the CW Network. This is Part 2 of the story, with more sex & an interesting plot twist. I really enjoyed writing this, so let me know what you think. I have more story ideas with the Winchesters if you would like to read them.
Opal was getting supper started when Sam and Abby walked into the kitchen, hand in hand. When she saw that they were holding hands, she smiled brightly like she had just won the lottery.
"I see you two had a good afternoon." she clapped her hands together in joy.
"Yes." Abby smiled up at Sam. "It was one of the best afternoons I've had in a while."
"Oh my goodness!" Opal looked more closely at Sam. "Are your lips bleeding, honey?"
"Wha-?" Sam wiped his lips with his fingers, looking frantically at Abby.
"Wait a minute. Blood isn't pink!" Opal laughed. "That's lipstick. And by the look of it, that's Abby's shade!"
Sam's face turned a bright red. Dean was leaning against the kitchen counter laughing out loud.
"How'd that get there?" Abby said innocently, looking slyly up at Sam.
"Sammy got caught with his hand in the cookie jar - among other things." Dean thought to himself. "Hey Sam, you got a few minutes before we eat?" he asked, saving his brother from any more awkwardness.
"Um, yeah bro." Sam said, trying to sound nonchalant. "I need to shower before supper, anyway."
"Excuse us ladies." Dean smiled, motioning with his head for Sam to follow him up the stairs to their room.
"See you in a few minutes." Sam smiled at Abby, not wanting to let go of her hand.
"Ok sweetie!" she smiled, not being shy about how she felt about him. When he turned to follow Dean up the stairs, she playfully slapped Sam on the butt. He turned to give her a nervous smile, his face still flushed from embarrassment.
"Sorry about my timing earlier today." Dean said, closing the door to their room. "If I had known you were in that wood shed about to get some, I wouldn't have come in."
"Your timing really sucked that time!" Sam said, peeling off his sweaty shirt, jeans, socks, and shoes, and throwing them in a pile on the floor. "I'm glad it was you instead of Opal. I definitely would've died of embarrassment!"
Dean laughed. "The way you jumped, you looked like the rooster caught in the hen house! And that lipstick thing was priceless!"
"So did you want to talk to me about something?" Sam asked, sitting there in only his boxers. "I really want to go take a shower."
"Oh, yeah. While you and Abby were playing doctor in the wood shed," Dean grinned. "I had a chance to look around the house when Opal was busy in the kitchen."
"And?" Sam asked, interested. "What did you find out?"
"I didn't find anything unusual in any of the rooms, but she wouldn't let me go near the attic. Just as I was trying to pick the lock on the door, she caught me."
"Dean, you were trying to pick the lock?" Sam shook his head and grinned. "Old habits die hard huh, bro?"
"Yeah, well." Dean grinned. "Anyway, there's something in that attic that she doesn't want anybody to see."
"It has to be where the painting is!" Sam sat up straighter. "She wouldn't have the door so secured if she wasn't hiding something important."
"Exactly." Dean winked. "Maybe after supper you can go to the attic and try your luck with the lock. Opal is already onto me. I'll try to keep the women occupied somehow."
"Yeah, I can try to get up there." Sam stood in the doorway to the small bathroom in their room.
"Our plan might work, but I doubt if Abby will let you out of her sight that long." Dean teased. "I'll give it until the end of the day before you two end up in bed together."
"I'm planning on it, bro!" Sam smiled, closing the door to the bathroom. "The first chance I get!"
'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.'.
After enjoying a delicious supper, Dean offered to help Opal clean up the dishes. Opal sent a reluctant Abby into town to get some supplies so they could make homemade ice cream later that evening.
Sam saw this as his chance to check out the attic. He made the excuse that he needed to wash the clothes he had worn while splitting wood. Opal pointed him in the direction of the old wringer washer in the backyard.
As soon as Opal returned to the kitchen, Sam tiptoed down the hall and up the stairs to the attic. His heart raced with anticipation of secrets the attic held.
"She didn't get a cheap lock, that's for sure!" he thought to himself, as he held the big padlock, carefully trying to release the tumblers with his tools. After several attempts, and glances over his shoulder, the big lock clicked and the shackle snapped open.
"Yesss!" he smiled to himself, taking the lock off the old rusty door. "Now I have to open the door without making a sound." He braced his tall body against the wooden door, not knowing what was behind it. With a slight cracking sound, he pushed the door open slowly.
Fearing that Opal had heard the cracking of the attic door, he hesitated in the doorway. He listened several seconds for the sounds of footsteps. When none penetrated the thick dusty air, he pushed the door open a little wider. Again, he stopped and listened for any sounds of the elderly woman.
"Maybe she doesn't have her hearing aid turned up enough!" he thought to himself, then scolded himself for the mean thought. "I'm beginning to sound like Dean!" He really hated going behind the women's backs since they had took them in, fed them, and gave them a job - all under false pretenses. Sam felt a twinge of guilt, but quickly shook it off focusing on the task at hand.
Stepping into the attic, a huge stained glass window glared at him as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. The colors from the window made swirling patterns on the floor as he looked around for anything resembling a painting.
The dusty attic contained mostly old furniture and cardboard boxes stacked in all the corners. Sam's eyes scanned each silhouette that surrounded him, while his ears stayed alert for the sound of Opal coming up the stairs. Ahead of him, right under the huge stained glass window, he saw something that resembled a wooden frame.
He quickly crossed the room, accidentally kicking an empty paint can that was on the floor. The sound of the aluminum can bouncing across the wooden floor echoed in Sam's ears. "Damn!" he cringed and mumbled under his breath, his head snapping back to look at the doorway.
"Sam? Sam, are you okay out there?" He could hear Opal's muffled voice below him in the kitchen. He could also hear Dean's voice.
"Keep her occupied while I get outta here Dean!" Sam thought to himself, debating on whether to take a chance of lifting the dusty drop cloth that covered the possible painting.
