~***~

We made our way to the Riverfront Psychiatric Hospital. I basically skipped behind Sam and Dean, feeling so much more happy after that nap. Max was striding ahead of us, looking back every now and again. "I don't understand. I already spoke with Homeland Security." Max mentioned.

"Right, some new information has come up. So if you could just answer a couple of questions." I chime, slipping in between the brothers.

"Just before the plane went down, did you notice anything.... unusual?" Sam asked.

"Strange lights, weird noises, maybe? Voices?" Dean added. We stopped at a table just as Max denied that suggestions. We all sat down.

"Mr. Joffey-" Dean started, grunting when I dug my elbow into his ribs.

"Jaffey." I snap at him. "You checked yourself in here, right? Can I ask why?" I lean forward, crossing my arms and leaning on them.

"I was a little stressed. I survived a plane crash." Max answers as if it were obvious.

"Uh huh. And that's what terrified you? That's what you've been afraid of?" Dean clearly didn't believe the man.

"I.... I don't want to talk about this anymore." Max stuttered. I jabbed Dean's ribs again before giving Max a soft smile.

"Don't mind him, him. He's just been an ass lately. His wife left him for me." I coo, giving him a wink when his cheeks turned bright red. "See, I think maybe you did see something up there. We need to know what."

"No. No, I was delusional. Seeing things." Max confirmed.

"He was seeing things." Dean repeated to Sam and I.

"It's okay. You can tell us what you thought you saw, please." I start, batting my big green eyes. He caved after a second, sighing gently.

"There was... this man.... And uh, he had these... eyes- these, uh.... black eyes. And I saw him- or I thought I saw him..." Max started, but he paused. We all kept staring silently, egging him on.

"He opened the emergency exit. But that's.... that's impossible, right? I mean, I looked it up. There's something like two tons of pressure on that door." He looked at Dean for confirmation. This was starting to sound like demonic possession.

"Yeah." Dean nodded.

"This man, uh, did he seem to appear and disappear rapidly? It would look something like a mirage?" Sam questioned and Max looked at him like he was crazy.

"What are you, nuts? He was a passenger. He was sitting right in front of me." He replied to Sam, making me smirk at the giant.

~***~

After visiting the house of the so called possessed, we found no evidence that he was a monster. None at all. Which still leads me to believe that it was a demon. The men were in the suit store while I was leaned against the Impala, applying a coat of plum lipstick, winking at passing men who whistled at me. I adjust my plum shirt and slip in my earrings, smiling when both boys come out of the store.

My mouth went dry. He looked so good dressed in that suit. "Well, well, well." I strode forward, prowling around Dean. "Looks like you can pull off the monkey suit." Dean gazes around, following me with those eyes that would stare down at me when he got me off. I stopped in front of him, smirking at the sloppily tied knot. "Need some help?"

He looks down at his tie for a split second before looking back up at me. "Not for that, no." I roll my eyes and grasp his tie, grinning when his pupils dilate.

"There. Better to breath?" I ask after retying into a Windsor Knot. "Now you look like a million bucks!" I grin and prop my hands on my hips.

He smirks, looping an arm around my waist and tugging me forward. "Guess were quite the pair aren't we?" I'm guessing he forgot Sam was still there because he jumps back when Sam clears his throat. He rubs at the back of his head and in an attempt to change the conversation, he tugs at his shirt collar. "I hate this."

"You want into that warehouse or not?" Sam asked, face still set in an amused expression.

We all pile into the Impala and start driving. "Are you going to be able to run with those heels?" Dean asked, gazing back at me through the mirror.

"Oh, please. Running in heels are one of my many talents." I say, flipping my leg over the other. "This isn't my first rodeo."

"You'd say that at your second rodeo, Lottie. All you ever wear are those boots." Sam smirked. "What do you even do in your spare time?"

"Sam." I start, crossing my arms over my bosom. "What a woman does in her private time, should remain private." I cock my head, a coy smirk lifting onto my lips. They both turn red in the face as I start to laugh. "Chill, I had a gig in upper new york that I learned to run in heels. It's actually really fun."

A few minutes later, we finally arrive at the warehouse and were allowed in. We walked into the room and it looked really bad. The plane parts were scattered all over, either destroyed or burned. I could feel a lot of negative energy. Dean pulled out his newest toy, distracting me. I cock my head, gazing over his shoulder as he pulled his ear buds into his ears and turned it on. He looked over to see Sam and I giving him a weird look.

"What is that?" Sam asked, almost disgusted.

"It's an EMF meter." Dean replied. "Reads electromagnetic frequencies."

"Yeah, I know what an EMF meter is, but why does it look like a busted up walkman?" Sam scoffed.

"'Cause that's what it's made of." Dean pulled up. "It's homemade." He grinned. Sam only looked at the EMF meter pitifully. I chuckled a little. I had wondered what he had been hunched over all this time. Not even an invite to get off would pull him away.

"Yeah, I can see that." Sam replied. Dean's grin slipped, his eyes casting downwards for a second. I huffed and propped my hands on my hips, glaring at the tall man.

"Sam, you're an ass." I snap, palming Dean's back. "I think it's amazing." I coo, smiling when Dean immediately perks up.

"She appreciates me." Dean scoffed to Sam. He turned back to me, pressing a kiss to my cheek. "Thanks, doll." I flushed a little, but it disappeared after I palmed a part of the plane. "Check this out." Dean called to Sam, watching as my fingers ran across the metal. Yellow residue coated my skin from the plane. "What is this stuff?"

I shrug and use a swab to take a sample. "Let's get this to Jerry and find out." I hand the sample to Sam. Dean urges us towards the back exit just as the alarm blares. We start rushing, reaching a gate. Dean flings his jacket over the barbed wire. Dean stoops down, cupping his hands together and propels me over. The boys follow shortly after.

"Wow! These monkey suits do come in handy!" Dean declared as I dust myself off. We start running again, both the men yelping in surprise as I barrel ahead, heels thumping against the concrete.

~***~

We got the the motel post haste and I could not wait to get out of this outfit. I felt naked without my jeans and boots. I closed the door to my room and started unbuttoning my shirt, tugging it out of my skirt. It fell open as my door opened, a surprised shriek leaving my lips. I turned, wrapping my arms around my chest. "Dean! What the hell! Come on!" I cry, trying to button it back up. Dean just closes the door behind him and leans against the wall, his arms crossed and a smirk on his face. "Can I help you?!" I huff angrily, wanting to just get these clothes off and take a hot shower.

"I don't remember the original reason, but I think my new reason is a lot better." Dean bites his lower lip, striding forward and wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against his chest. "You know, parading around in those heels, its just not right."

"Oh?" I raise an eyebrow, palming his chest. "Why's that?"

"Cause I can see 'em behind my ears." He grins as my cheeks start getting really hot. He steps forward, pressing me up against the table behind me, sitting me on my butt. "Spread 'em." My throat hitches up as my legs immediately part, a my cheeks flushing more as he stoops down, reaching into my skirt and tugs my panties down.

"Really?" I try my best to sound agitated, but the excitement raises my voice an octave higher. He smirks at me, his eyebrow raised. He hikes my skirt up farther, exposing my soaked heat.

"Hold on." He grins up at me before burying his face between my legs. My head flies back, a strangled cry leaving my lips. My heart is pounding, my legs are trembling, my skin is hot. I scramble at my shirt, popping open the buttons and letting it slip off my shoulders, arching my back. Pleasure shots up my spine, my orgasm building up slowly. I cry out again as he pushes against the sensitive spot inside, a sinful smirk wiping onto his lips.

My back hits the mattress, Dean's hands working against my soaked flower, his lips pressing tight kisses to my neck and chest. I bite onto my pinky, trying not to cry out so loud. My orgasm hits, a muffled cry leaving my lips as I push against Dean's arm, trying to push him away, but he keeps working his rough fingers against me. My cries get more desperate, another orgasm forcing it's way up. A sheer sweat covers my skin, his lips causing my skin to tingle in each spot that's touched. "Dean..." I manage, trying to keep my eyes open from the insane amount of pleasure washing up my back. "Please, no more...."

A smirk slips onto his lips, finally pulling his hand away and gripping at my hip. He tugs the blanket upwards, covering my lower half as I try to regain my breathing. "Seems to get better each time I visit, eh?"

A scowl wraps onto my face as I slap at his shoulders. "I wanted to just shower so we could go over this stupid-"

"Dean? Are you in here?" I hear Sam call as my door rattles with his knocking. "I told him not to come in here!" Dean chuckles as I grasp the blanket tighter, sitting up with a soft inhale.

"Just a minute!" I call back, stumbling towards the bathroom. Dean's laughter follows as I leap back out, grasping my backpack full of clothes. "OKAY! COME ON IN! JUST LET ME SHOWER!" I yell from the bathroom, locking the door behind me.

~***~

Sam sat at my table, unaware of the events that transpired atop the surface. Dean sulked on the bed, looking up with a smirk as I exited the bathroom. I gazed up, looking at the articles taped up on the wall.

"Okay," I start, taking my seat, pulling out my journal with shaky fingers. "Every religion in every world culture has the concept of demons and demonic possession, right? I mean, Christian, Native American, Hindu, you name it." Listing off a few, my fingers tipping downwards with each mention.

"None of them describe anything like this, though." Dean commented.

"Well, that's not exactly true. You see, according to Japanese beliefs, certain Demons are behind certain disasters, both natural and man-made. One can cause earthquakes, another can cause diseases."

"And this one causes plane crashes?" Dean gets up. "Alright, so, what? We have a demon that's evolved with the times and found a way to ratchet up the body count?"

"Yeah. You know, who knows how many planes it's brought down before this one." Sam answered. Dean snorted, turning away. I raise an eyebrow.

"What's the matter?"

"I don't know, Lottie. This isn't our normal gig. I mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for it's own sake. This is big; I wish dad were here."

"Yeah, me too." Sam replied with a deep sigh. Dean's phone rang, he answered and put it on speaker phone.

"Hello?" We all looked at the phone expectantly.

"Dean. It's Jerry. My pilot friend.... Chuck Lambert is dead."

Dean eyebrows furrowed. "Wha- Jerry, I'm sorry. What happened?"

"He and his buddy went up in a small twin about an hour ago. The plane went down."

"Where'd this happen?"

"About sixty miles west of here, near Nazareth."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'll try to ignore the irony in that."

"I'm sorry?" Jerry was confused now.

"Nothing. Jerry, you hang in there, alright? We'll catch up with you real soon." And with that, he hung up.

"So, another plane went down?" I hummed.

"Yeah, lets go."

"To Nazareth?"

"Yep."

~***~

We ended up driving past Nazareth to check out the crash, then sailed straight towards Jerry's office. He was looking through a microscope and the sample I had taken. "Is it sulfur?" Dean asked. Jerry nodded. "Well, that's great. Alright, that's two plane crashes involving Chuck Lambert. This demon sounds like it was after him."

"With all due respect to Chuck, if that's the case, that would be good news." Sam threw in.

"Then whats the bad news?" Jerry asked.

"Chuck's plane went down exactly forty minutes into flight. And get this, so did flight 2485."

"Forty minutes?" Jerry was baffled. "What does that mean?"

"It's biblical numerology. You know, Noah's Ark, it rained for forty days. The number means death." I sigh. "Sam and I went back, and there have been six plane crashes over the last decade that went down exactly forty minutes in." Sam nodded in agreement.

"Any survivors?" Dean inquired.

"No. Or not until now, at least, not until flight 2485, for some reason. On the cockpit voice recorder, remember what the EVP said?"

"No survivors." Dean leaned on the chair I was sitting in, crossing his arms.

"It's going after all the survivors. It's trying to finish the job."

~***~

Night arrived and we're on our way to the airport to stop an Amanda Walker from boarding the flight. A flight attendant from 2485.

"Right. Her sister, Karen, said her flight leaves Indianapolis at eight pm. It's her first night back on the job." Sam informed us after getting off the phone.

"That sounds like just our luck." Dean sighed. I leaned between the front seats.

"If we shag ass, maybe we can make it on time." I try to be optimistic.

"Lottie, this is a five our drive. Even with you behind the wheel." Sam points out.

"Call Amanda's cellphone again, see if we can't head her off at the pass." Dean offers, but Sam shakes his head.

"I already left her three voice messages. She must have turned her cellphone off." Sam replied. "God, we're never going to make it."

"We'll make it." Dean says bluntly. I squealed in excitement as he floored it, blazing down the road.