~***~

Strong arms wrap around my midsection as I awake from my deep slumber, hating that I couldn't sleep too well on this mattress. I'm pulled flush against Dean's chest, and his erection pressing against my butt. I flinch forwards, feeling desire burst through me. I shimmy out of his hold, wiping a hand down my face and pressing my feet against the ground. I stood up and turned around, gazing at Dean's more than hard erection, and that dreamy look he had on his face. I groaned in agitation and decided to get a drink, rather than get myself off with the horny man. I grab my room key and a handful of change, and head out to the drink machine outside.

The night air is crisp and chill against my bare legs and arms, although, my face provided enough heat for my entire body. I was seriously turned on and it was all Dean's fault. I leaned my forehead against the chilled machine, sighing lightly as I await for my soda to pop out. A hand lands on my shoulder. I whirl around, grasping the arm and throwing them against the machine, tugging their arm behind them in a defensive manner. I let out a gasp of relief. "Sam! I almost broke your damn arm!"

"Lottie! You can't keep doing this when I surprise you!" Sam yelped, tugging away and rolling his shoulder around. "What's got you so jumpy anyway?" He asks as I stood down, lifting up my soda.

"Nothing, Sammy." I sigh, palming my forehead. We both stalked towards the motel room, gazing at Dean laying on his back, snoring and sporting a raging hard on.

He hummed out, a dreamy smile lifting onto his face. "Hmmmmm......" Sam and I looked at each other, raising our eyebrows. "Lottie." I swear my cheeks were on fire by now. Sam was trying so hard to hold in his laughter, haunching over with shaking shoulders.

"You're such a cute virgin!" Sam whispered, still trying not to laugh. I pull him into a chokehold, bringing him to the floor as Dean sits up, shocked about all the noise coming from the both of us. He just stares at us.

"What time is it?" He asks, still dazed.

"Uh...." I reach down, grabbing Sam's arm and gazing at the watch. "Five Forty-Five." I replied.

"In the morning?" He asks, looking pretty upset. I shove Sam to the ground, pouting angrily and snatching one of the coffee's brought. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

Sam hesitated as he stood up. "Yeah. I grabbed a couple of hours."

Dean called him out on it immediately. "Liar, because I was up at three, and you were watching George Foreman infomercials."

"Hey, what can I say?" Sam shrugged, trying to play it off. "It's riveting TV."

"And why'd you leave?" Dean asked, turning his attention on me. Sam snorted at my darkening cheeks.

"Well, Dean, you seemed to be having a very dirty dream, and Little Lottie just couldn't handle it." Sam explained, dodging my boot flying across the room at his big stupid head. "You were saying her name in your sleep! Her virgin ears just- OW!" Sam cried out as I tackled him, laying him on his stomach and pulling his leg back before reaching back and tugging his arm back.

Dean was laughing, in tears even, as Sam begged for mercy. I released him and stomped towards the bathroom.

~***~

I stepped out of the bathroom after a long, relaxing shower, I was ready for the day. Dean had just answered the phone.

"Hello?" I sat besides him, tugging on my heels and adjusting my ponytail. "Oh, right, yeah, up in Kittanning, Pennsylvania. The poltergeist thing. It's not back, is it?" Dean spoke in the phone, placing his hand on my thigh, squeezing slightly. He continued to listen as I leaned back, laying on my elbows with a sigh. He ended the call after a moment and leaned over me, smirking down at me. "Nice attire." He hummed, running his hand up my side, smoothing his hand over my skin.

"Hands off, Dean. We got to get to, Jerry, don't we?" I smirk back, sitting up and standing tall. Dean pouts and props his head on his hands as Sam stepped in. "Come on, Sammy. We got a case." Sam laughed at Dean who just groaned angrily, following after like I had eaten his pie again.

The drive went by relatively quick as I updated Sam on what Dean got a call about. Jerry Panowski. I remembered him. John, Dean, and I had dealt with a Poltergeist that had torn apart his house. He worked with airplanes now, which was kind of cool. Dean hated flying, but my dad had to fly all the time, so I got used to flying, just not the height.

"Thanks for makin' the trip so quick. I ought to be doing you guys a favor, not the other way 'round." Jerry expressed as he walked us through the construction site to his office. Jerry turned to Sam. "Dean, Carlotta, and your dad really helped me out." He turned to me, grinning when I flashed him my charming smile. "And look at you, as beautiful as ever." He said while looping his arm around my shoulders.

"Thank you, sir." I smirk at Dean, wiggling my eyebrows when he starts making kissy faces.

"Last time I saw you, you were recovering from your twenty first birthday, am I right?"

"Hey, now. We made a deal never to mention that, didn't we?" I whine. He starts to laugh. "I assume you didn't call us for that Poltergeist, am I right?"

An employee overheard us and stopped; a big grin on his face. "Poltergeist? Man I loved that movie! Wanna see it sometime, sweetness?"

"Hey, nobodies talkin' to you! Keep walkin'," Jerry snapped and turned back to me. "Damn right I didn't. That Poltergeist practically tore my house apart." He turned back to Dean. "I'll tell you something- If it wasn't for you, your dad, and Lottie over here, I probably wouldn't be alive right now." Dean smirked as I wiped at a fake tear. "Your dad said you were off to college, is that right?" Jerry asked Sam. "Before I forget, did you two finally get together?"

Dean and I start coughing as Sam answered his question. "Yeah, I was. I'm.... taking some time off." Sam answered vaguely.

"Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time." Jerry admitted and Sam's head perked up.

"He did?" Sam asked in disbelief.

"Yeah, you bet he did. Oh, hey, you know, I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing anyways?" Jerry asked. I felt Dean tense up.

"He's, uh... he's wrapped up in a job right now." I lied, feeling Dean's hand slide onto my lower back.

"Well, we're missing the old man. We get Sam and Lottie, though. Even trade, huh?" Jerry laughed.

"Well, me maybe." Sam muttered, a choking sound slipping from his throat as I tug him into a choke hold, tugging on his ear with a no nonsense smile on my lips.

"Is that anyway to talk to your best friend?" I ask, keeping strong when he starts to struggle.

~***~

We all fit into Jerry's office, only two chairs for us to sit in though. Sam and Dean leaped into the seats, staring up at me with their shit eating grin. I rolled my eyes and went to perch on Sam's knee. I let out a soft yelp as Dean tugged me down onto his lap, sending me one of those flirty winks.

"I listened to this. Well, it sounded like it was right up your alley. Normally, I wouldn't have access to this. It's cockpit voice recordings for United Britannia Flight 2485. It was one of ours." Jerry stated the tape. At first, there was a lot of static and vague sounds, then, not surprisingly, demonic hiss echoed through it all. The tape ends and the three of us exchange looks. "Took off from here- crashed about two hundred miles south. Now, they're saying mechanical failure. The cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board- only seven got out alive. The pilot was one. His names Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh.... Well, he's pretty broken up about it- like it was his fault." Jerry explained.

"You don't think it was?" Sam asked.

Jerry shook his head. "No, I don't."

"Jerry, we're gonna need the passenger manifest, a list of survivors, and a look at the wreckage." I demand, straddling the front of Dean's legs and leaned against his knees. Dean coughed lightly, leaning his torso back. Sam holds back a snicker as I raise an eyebrow with a smirk.

"The other stuff is no problem. But the wreckage- well, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance." Jerry expressed. I shrugged and stood up, grinning at Jerry.

"No worries, hun. We'll see you real soon, 'kay?" Jerry returns my smile as I strut out, leaving Dean to wallow in his own self pity.

~***~

Sam and I were waiting in front of the Copy Jack, waiting for Dean. He was making matching ID's for the three of us. I was laid out in the front seat with my head in Sam's lap, a magazine snapped open in front of me as I read some riveting articles about how to lose twenty pounds in three weeks. Sam was currently checking the EVP on the tape. Dean finally came out of the store and got into the car, pulling my legs across his lap. Sam gave Dean a dirty look.

"You've been in there forever." Sam spat as Dean held up three ID's.

"You can't rush perfection, Sammy." Dean said as he threw one on my face.

"Homeland Security? That's pretty illegal, even for us." Sam warned, but neither Dean nor I were fazed about it.

"Yeah, well, it's something new, you know? People haven't seen it a thousand times."

"Like my boobs?" I hum, snorting at this years 'Sexiest Man'. "Did you know George Clooney got voted sexiest man, again? If I was twenty years older, I'd be on that train before you could say arthritis." I sigh out. Dean gave Sam a hard smack on the shoulder after Sam whispered something to him.

"Alright, so what you guys got?" Dean asked, changing the subject. I tossed the magazine in the back seat and sat up.

"Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder." I stretch my arms above my head.

"Yeah?"

"Listen," Sam orders as he pushed the play button. When it started, static started up and the sound of someone saying, 'No Survivors'.

"No survivors?" Dean echoed. "What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors."

"Got me."

"So, what are we thinking? A haunted flight?" Dean asked.

"I mean, it could be." I tug out my journal. "There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like Phantom Travelers." I explain, flipping the journal open to the page I had on them. I pointed at the page. "Remember Flight 401?"

"Right, the one that crashed, then the airline salvaged some of its parts, out in the other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and co-pilot haunted those flights?" Dean answered.

"Right," Sam grasped my journal, laying a list of the survivors on the page. "Maybe we've got a similar deal."

"Alright, so, survivors- which one do you wanna talk to first?" Dean asks.

"Third on the list- Max Jaffey."

"Why him?"

"Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did." Dean and I gave Sam weird looks.

"What makes you say that?" I ask, cocking my head.

"Well, I spoke to his mother and he told me where to find him."

I shrugged and went back to laying down, sighing out in relaxation as Sam started to comb his fingers through my hair and study the case deets. I sighed again and dozed off.