A/N: This is it. Thanks for reading! (and especially reviewing, or adding it to alerts and favorites)

Chapter three: Trick or Treat?

Dean glanced at Sam, a serious determined look on his face. Blondie – Dean knew from Bobby's contact he went by Robert, he just didn't look like a 'Robert' to Dean – had looked at him and fucking asked for permission to finish the con. Well, maybe asked for permission wasn't exactly it, but he'd read the offer in the guy's eyes. And Dean had agreed. And it was kind of wrong; you did not enable one of these things. He knew Sam was going to give him a hard time about double standards and morality and shit. Hell, he would give himself the speech. And yet, they'd been non-violent all day long, and from the little research they'd been able to do, it had been the same all week. And mostly, at the end of the day, Dean just could see nothing wrong with whatever was coming for Preppy and Cowboy-hat. He just needed to make sure it did not get out of hand.

He could do that.

Danny took the cards and looked at them without seeing. He didn't need to, and while his concentration seemed to be solely on the game, his mind was working overtime, trying to figure out a way out of this.

He still couldn't believe Rusty had gone there, had actually –silently- told the guy they'd be finishing this one first. Well, he could. Rusty was… Rusty. And it was all Danny's fault. Rus had asked him; they could have just up and left. The fact that they both knew they wouldn't was superfluous.

He did not know what had surprised him more, the guy's apparent acceptance or the fact that he'd actually understood Rusty's silent request; definitely not one of Benedict's or Bank's thugs.

He was surprised again when the guy – he'd introduced himself as Dean – folded. He raised his eyes to Rusty's, and could see the invisible shrug. Rusty had dealt him a winning hand; the guy had acknowledged the test and retreated. This was their show; he was really not going to interfere.

Huh.

Sam twisted in his seat, impatient. He was glad he was playing this one as an inexperienced poker rookie, so he didn't have to hide his nervousness -which had nothing to do with the game. What the hell was Dean doing? He knew damn well they were not going to do anything in here; the place was full of people. Why would he approach them? Not only approach them but – unless they were completely stupid, which Sam doubted – tip them off. It was like Dean was offering them a chance. And that wasn't like his brother. Dean was all 'If it's a monster, you kill it.' No grayness about it. Especially with a trickster. Sam could still remember the last argument they'd had over one of these things, pointless as it'd later turned out to be.

No, Sam didn't like this one bit. Plus, they still weren't sure about the other one. The mysterious, charming older one of the pair. There was just something strange about the guy; like he was not completely from this world. Neither was the blond one, but that was to be expected with a Demi-god. Sam was just not sure what to make of these two.

Sam'd spent the night, after they'd gone to bed, doing research on lesser gods, but he'd found no lore about them hanging-out together like this.

Yes, Sam was really uneasy with it all. They needed to know what the second one was, in order to figure out how to kill it. He wished his brother would still remember that was the reason he was here, to try to gather more info.

He sighed. Of course Dean remembered. He just wished his brother had given Sam some sort of warning, before going ahead and warning them.

Rusty watched Jeffries squirm with the utmost pleasure. Well, if only there wasn't a little pesky problem called Dean sitting at the table, the pleasure would have been complete. Though he had to admit the guy was alright… for someone that had been following them with ill intentions for the past day. But seriously, it was obvious he was a player, a hustler. He knew how to play the table and that was why Rusty had changed tactics once Dean had approached the table. Rusty had made the offer, the guy had taken it.

And they were actually having fun. Evans had already fled, having lost all the money he was carrying, plus his precious college ring and a lot of money borrowed from daddy's account, and most importantly, having done so in the presence of two of his school's biggest gossips.

They were finishing the last touches on Jeffries, one and a half hours later. Most of the patrons of the bar had already left, and those who hadn't – including Dean's partner-, were standing around their table, watching the outrageousness of the bets. Both Dean and Rusty had already bet and lost to Danny, the deeds to their respective houses – which if Dean's was anything like his own, Danny'd just won two whole lots of air in nonexistent parts of the country – which Danny had riding on the current hand, in addition to a bunch of bonds and his interest in a fake multinational company. Jeffries could not believe he was losing, so he'd gone all in. Deeds, bank accounts, cars, the whole nine yards.

He caught the flash from Danny's eyes. Yup, now all they had to do was figure out how to lose their unwanted company. The card game was already won.

It was later and they were in a back alley, having made sure the relief funds were on their way to the rightful owners. Dean was still amazed at the skill and ease of it all. Not only had they won a whole lot of money from a bad guy to donate it back, but they'd done so in front of witnesses and with so much charm there hadn't even been anger, or harsh words. Just big smiles. If it weren't for the fact that they were monsters –or Gods, not much difference in Dean's book - he would really like these guys.

He looked over at Sammy, escorting them on the other side and then back at the one called Daniel who was talking, all charm and reason.

"So I guess now that that's out of the way, you guys want to tell us who you are and what you want?"

"Why don't you start?" Sammy said gruffly.

"You've been following us around, I'd say you know more about us than we you." Blondie said, non-challantly.

"We you?" The older one looked at him, "Did you just say 'we you'?"

"What? It's an expression."

"Is not."

"Totally is. Remember in that…?"

"Oh, she did not say that, she said.."

"Not her. The other one."

"Huh. Still, doesn't mean you can just..."

Dean looked at his brother, Sam looked back at him. "It's not going to work, you know." Dean interrupted, getting the pair's attention. "We've done that too. You're not going to distract us with this." Dean frowned, for a minute there he could have sworn he saw a pout in Blondie's mouth. He shook his head. "My name's Dean, this is my brother Sam and we're Hunters, so why don't you guys cut the crap and we can finish this off once and for all? I kind of like you guys, so if you tell us what he is," he motioned at Daniel with his head, "we'll finish it off quickly, no hard feelings."

Hunters? What was that supposed to mean? Nope, Danny was as much at a loss here as he was. He caught Danny's 'Oh, what the hell' look and sighed internally.

"Name's Danny. That's Rusty." Danny added with a nod towards him. "And I am pretty sure there are no outstanding bounties on our heads, so clearly this must be a case of mistaken identities."

Dean chuckled, "Dude, come on. Seriously?"

The tall one, Sam, recited "You go by Robert Ryan and Daniel Ocean. We got your descriptions – and not many people would fit them- plus the exact place where to find you from an informant." He paused, looking at them. "We've been following you around, we've seen you in action, seen the signs."

"Look, whoever this informant was, clearly he's got something wrong." Danny hastily added, sensing Rusty's indignation. "All we've done is play a little poker, gamble a little. Nothing wrong with that." Certainly nothing anyone would put them in jail for. Rusty supposed he should be glad the 'hunters' hadn't caught up with them the day before. That would have been a little trickier to explain.

"Right." Dean was saying, voice full of sarcasm. "And there's nothing supernatural about it. About your surprising string of good luck or the way you guys are."

"Well, I wouldn't say that." Rusty answered readily. There was definitely something special about Danny and him, though it beat the hell out of him what that had to do with anything. Danny glared at him. Right, right, focus on getting out of this.

"So what if there is? Since when is it a crime to have good luck? Or to help it a little?" Danny looked at the brothers pointedly. "Not like you haven't done the same thing."

Rusty had the satisfaction of watching Sam blush a little and a corner of Dean's mouth twitch.

So maybe Danny would find a way of talking them out of this. As usual.

"Not the point." Dean said, trying to stifle the smirk. 'Cause he definitely had done the same thing, 'twas how he – they – made their living. Not like hunting was a paid job.

"Then what is?" Danny countered. "Because I am a bit confused here. You obviously approve of what we did, or you wouldn't have helped. And no one got hurt."

And that was true. They could not find a report of mysterious deaths or people injured under unusual circumstances for the entire past week. Nor did they find any for the previous jobs Bobby'd been told about.

"So why would this person send us to hunt you down?" Sam asked and Dean knew they were getting to his brother too. The tone had been curious, rather than accusatory.

"Other than the fact that one of you is a trickster and who the hell knows what the other one is, of course." Dean had to add, just on principle. He watched an odd look of surprise at the term cross Rusty's face. He guessed the guy just wasn't used to people calling him by it to his face.

"I wouldn't know." Danny answered, honestly. "We've collected our share of enemies over the years. Perhaps if we knew who your informant was, we could figure out why he or she did it." He spread his hands. "Look, trickster, hustler, what does it matter? We are doing good things here. And if we get a little richer or have a little fun while we're at it, then all the better, right?"

And Dean did see the point. And perhaps two years ago, it wouldn't have made a difference, but in a world with douche bag angels and a pending apocalypse this did seem a bit pointless. He knew his brother had already been sold at the 'doing good' bit. He still needed to add, for good measure. "So what? We supposed to just let you go? Trust in the goodness of your hearts?"

"Uhm… Yes?" It came from Rusty, with the bright eyes and dazzling smile. Dean looked at his brother who was giving him the puppy dog eyes. Not fair.

He gave up. "Oh, what the hell. Fine." The smiles he got were blinding. He didn't feel completely comfortable with it, so he added, making sure they both got the seriousness of the threat, "We ever hear you've hurt anyone? There won't be a place on earth – or out of it – you'll be able to hide from us, understood?"

He watched Rusty and Danny nod their agreement. Good.

"So, what do you make of it?" Sam asked his brother, watching the city disappear in the mirror.

"Dude liked my car." Was the simple answer. Sam smiled.

~ x ~

They were shuffling uncomfortable in the alley. Neither of them sure what the protocol was after you decided not to kill someone.

"So…" Sam started.

"So." Was Danny's reply. "I guess it's back to our hotel. It was interesting meeting you guys." Only the slightest of hesitations before the word interesting.

Dean nodded, starting to turn away, when suddenly Rusty piped in: "Can we get a ride?"

Sam looked at his brother in disbelief, then at Danny, surely the guy must realize asking for a ride from people who were just minutes ago out to get you was not the smartest thing. But he was surprised to see only an affectionately indulgent smile in the man's face.

Dean finally got his voice back, "Come again?"

"Well, we took a cab here, and you got that gorgeous '67 Impala, dontcha?" Rusty smiled compellingly then turned to Danny, "It's just so pretty!" Sam rolled his eyes, knowing the answer. Yup, praise Dean's baby and you were in.

Five minutes later and not only were they driving these two... beings around, but Sam had found himself in the back seat, because Rusty wanted to feel the engine closer or some such bullshit. He gazed at Danny, sitting silently beside him. Clearly not as excited about the car, but seemingly content with watching his… friend – and as weird as the concept was when speaking of supernatural beings, there was no other word for it, they were obviously friends – enjoy the experience. Sam couldn't contain himself: "Don't you hate it when he, like... coos about an inanimate object?"

Danny raised an eyebrow at him, understanding perfectly well he wasn't talking about Rusty. "If he didn't, he wouldn't be your brother." He said simply and went back to watching the men in the front seat discuss incomprehensible engine talk.

Sam blinked and sat back, looking out the window, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

~ x ~

"So who do you think called Bobby?"

"Guess we'll never know." Dean shrugged, then shook his head and changed the subject, never one to dwell on things. "So where to next?"

Well, they had the devil walking the earth wanting to use Sam as his vessel; a fallen angel somewhere with Dean's amulet trying to find God; an archangel gunning for his brother's hide and no idea where any of them were. Sam shrugged, "Does it make a difference?"

"Seen the signs? He said they'd 'seen the signs'. There were no signs." Rusty exclaimed suddenly, focusing on the most important part of the night. He turned to Danny. "There were no signs, right?"

Danny looked at him, serious. "There were no signs."

"Good." He sighed. "Okay, that has to be the most bizarre encounter we've had. Ever." Rusty added, trying to peel off the metallic wrap of the chocolate bar with one hand, the other busy driving towards the airport.

"Even weirder than..?" Danny asked, taking the bar from him, unwrapping it and giving it back.

"Oh, yes, definitely." Rusty bit into the chocolate and sighed, content. "And what was with all the weird references to the out-of-this-world and the supernatural?"

"You asking me?" Danny shot him a disbelieving look. "There was a point I wasn't sure we were speaking the same language, there."

"And was that a…?"

"…stake under Dean's coat?" Danny finished for him. "Yup. That it was."

"A stake."

"Uh huh."

"Huh." Rusty's brow furrowed for a second. "You know what's weird, though? Well, weirder. They didn't seem to be…"

"..Completely crazy? I know." Danny nodded. "Still."

"Yeah." Rusty agreed. Then he grinned.

"What?"

"Next year is your choice." Rusty's grin got even bigger, if possible.

Yup, it was definitely going to be tough for Danny to choose any place that would beat this experience. He briefly wondered if flights to the moon were available, then silently cursed himself when he saw Rusty's hopeful eyes turned his way.

Oh, it would be an interesting year.

A mansion by Lake Como, Italy.

The wiry, athletic man cursed in five different languages after hanging up the phone. He cursed the man on the other end, he cursed the so-called hunters and most of all he cursed Daniel Ocean and his friend Ryan.

He'd been so sure this time, he'd done his research, bought or stole all the rare books on the occult until he could find the things that could best describe Ocean's and Ryan's … existence so that these people would buy into it. He'd tracked Ocean until he was sure he was at their annual thing. He'd fed it all to that Bobby Singer guy –and had he been hard to find-, who'd just now assured him –with a few expletives mixed in – that he'd sent the best hunters in the world after them, and that if they decided it was a no, then it was a no.

He took a deep breath, dismissed all the ancient books and the supernatural and looked at his next options. The Night Fox never gave up.

There was that drug cartel, but that was no good. He didn't want traditional methods; he wanted to defeat them, to get them in an unexpected way.

He read the transcript of a recording that had intrigued him in the past. Perhaps he should look into it more deeply. As he meditated on this and other options, the paper slipped his hands and fell to the floor, mixed up with other papers already there. One line was still visible:

"If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find them, maybe you can hire: The A-…:"

A/N2: Yes, I know. Ocean's 11 world is not the first thing that comes to mind when you think of the supernatural, but then... it really is just a matter of perspectives... isn't it? It's otherhawk's and In Silva's fault, really. Thank you all for reading!