You always took the time to keep things scheduled and structured. It made your life and your career much more efficient. Killing people was easy, but the only difference between a professional assassin and an amateur is that professionals know how to clean up their mess.
Now you thought this was just another regular job, eliminate the target and go. Nonetheless, you were so painfully wrong.
It all started at the Embassy Suites Hotel in Los Angeles. Your assignment was to kill a very powerful senate. Normally, you don't go for killing people in such high statuses of government, due to how risky it was. However, you just couldn't turn down after seeing the reward you'd get for killing him. A hundred grand. Now how could you possibly turn that down?
You decided to disguise yourself as a housekeeper, giving you easy access to the senate's room. After studying his schedule for the past week, you estimated that he wouldn't be in his room till 7:15 pm, which was about two hours from now.
As you rolled your cart out of the elevator, you checked your watch. You had approximately now 87 minutes and 33 seconds to replace his regular prescription with Ambien pills, a well known sedative. Plenty of time.
You twisted open the knob of the door as you approached his room, glancing to see if for some reason he might've been inside. To your luck, he wasn't as you had assumed.
With a sigh, you quickly pushed the cart inside, closing the door behind you. You slowly knelt down, reaching into the kart for the ambien.
Suddenly, a man with short, dirty blond hair and apple green eyes appeared behind you, dressed in a white button up with a black bow tie and slacks. A smirk arose on his face as he glanced at your figure from behind.
Once you had found the pills, you stood up from the ground, feeling a presence oddly close. You slowly reached under the hem of your uniform shirt and gripped your hand over the blade you had strapped to your waist. The guy sensed your movements and right as you were about to turn around and point the blade on him, he grabbed your wrist sharply, and pulled the blade near your neck.
"Who the hell are you?" The guy said gruffly, his breath softly grazing your neck as he spoke.
"I should be asking you the same thing," you replied with a smirk.
"I'm just the room service guy, you?" He asked.
"For just a room service guy, you sure have some incredible reflexes," you scoffed.
"Well I've never met a maid who carries a whole arsenal under (her/his) uniform," the guy responded with a smirk as well.
"I'm just here to do my job," you shrugged, though his strong grip made it difficult to move.
"Is that what the ambien is for?" He asked, "Cause I prefer Lunesta."
You raised a brow at his comment, causing the pills to slip from your hand and fall into the carpet floor. "Look I don't know who you are, but this is my job. So stay the hell out of my way," you remarked angrily.
"Too late hun, there's a dead body in the bathtub with my name written all over it. I'm getting that 100 grand," the guy said confidently.
"But how did you- he left hours ago. I saw it in the cameras," you said in disbelief. You remembered checking the hotel cameras before you came in to make sure the senate had left his room.
"It's called hacking the camera system sweetheart. I just took some footage from yesterday and replayed it," he explained. "Look I'll give you some time to run while I clean up this mess and collect my money."
He slowly let go of your wrists, causing you to turn around and hold the blade up to his neck. He held his hand up in surrender, giving you a better view of this guy. "Where's your ID?" You quickly asked.
"It's in my wallet. Back pocket," he quickly muttered and you narrowed your eyes on suspicion. Still keeping the blade at his neck, you reached your hand down his back pocket, pulling out a wallet. For some reason, his breaths were more hitched, as if he had been holding his breath.
As you took the wallet, you searched for some form of identification. "Dean Winchester huh?" You smirked as you read his ID.
"That's my name. Don't wear it out," he shrugged.
"Well Dean, you cost me a good pay today. So the next time you try to steal a job from me," you placed the ID in your pocket, "I know who you are and could report you in a matter of seconds."
"Oh come on, you'd love to run into me again sometime sweetheart. How about I write up my number for ya?" He winked.
"I'll pass," you slowly backed away, taking your kart and pills along with you. As you made your way out, you kept an eye on Dean, who gave you another wink before you walked out.
Casually brushing yourself off, you rolled your kart into the supply closet, the perfect place to be alone and try to process what happened. In the spur of the moment, your phone suddenly vibrated in your shirt pocket, causing you to slightly jump up in shock.
You turned on your phone, seeing as you got a new message from an unknown number.
Unknown: You forgot your knife. Don't worry, I'll keep it safe till we meet again.
-D.W
YOU ARE READING
This is War(Supernatural AU)
Fanfiction(Y/N) was no force to be reckoned with. Being a professional assassin had its perks, those perks being the massive pay. So what happens when some cocky stranger named Dean Winchester steals one of her kills?
