"Splendid job tonight, Paige! Your mother would of been proud."

"Thank you, Mr. Covant." Paige's smile strained to keep place on her lips.

Carl Covant, a late 50 year old gentleman's gentleman, realized his words a little late when Paige's expression dropped. Raising a hand, which she took, he helped her glide down the steps and off the stage. "I am terribly sorry little lady. I didn't-"

Her sweet smile returned, cheeked until her dimples showed. "Mr. Covant please don't apologize." She released his hand in order to adjust the strap of her tote against her bare shoulder. "And thank your wife for letting me borrow this dress! I really appreciate it."

"Nonsense. She told you to keep it."

Her hand raised to the sheer drape overlay of the plum, one-shoulder gown. The gown flattered the curves of her willowy figure in a pleasing yet comfortable way. "Really?"

"You know if you need anything you can ask us."

She knew he meant 'us' as a gesture to the orchestra as a whole. They had been the closest thing to family and friend, outside of her mother, that she had known since she had started with them. "But it is such an expensive piece!"

"You heard me little lady! She told me to let you know that you are not to give it back." He winked.

"You are far too kind to me." She smiled as the two of them stepped out of the concert hall.

"You should take us up on our offer Paige."

When her mother passed away, not even month ago, she was pressed with a lot of sudden responsibilities. The funeral arrangements, the costs of the funeral, working at the Plaza, and everything else. She was in a huge home with only her white fluff of a cat to keep her safe. She didn't feel right imposing on the couple. "Thank you."

He knew it was a decline, the door opened and held for her. "The offer stands if you ever change your mind." He smiled to her in understanding.

She smiled back and nodded her appreciation. "See you next week, Mister Conductor!"

"Take care, little lady."

Paige waved and quickly hurried her way down the street. It was late and the house was across town. She didn't want to get cornered by any suspicious or questionable people. Rhydin was full of those sorts. Not that she had ran into any of them. Her life had been mostly sheltered until the day her mother started to get sick.

It did her little good to fret over it now. Besides she was meeting all sorts of new people while working for Fiora.

It had been fun working at the Plaza de Troyes but she knew it was only a matter of time before she was let go. It was only a temp job after all but it was well worth it. It gave her work experience and she was able to meet so many wonderful people. Miss. Fiora was the best boss a person could have.

Her mind swam with the following days work but it didn't stop her from noticing that the driveway had a pair of cars in it. Moving up the sidewalk she reached out for the doorknob but before she could get a grip on it the door yanked open and she watched two men step out. Quickly she stepped back, the sheer fabric swimming over the grass.

"Excuse me." One of the men quickly blurted out to her. He was off to the white car while the second man hovered over her.

Her breath caught when she realized who it was. "F-Father?"

She didn't need to be told he had been drinking. It showed heavy in the lines of his face and he simply reeked of it. He actually came to see her. A month late but he came. He came to offer his condolences for her mother's death.

"What are you doing here?"

"I've come to check on my property." Junior's answer was neither kind nor warm.

"Your property?" She realized that his words were dangerous..

"You don't think that whore of a woman could of afforded a place like this on her salary do you?"

"I wish you would stop calling my mother that." Paige's gentle voice rushed from her lips without thinking of the consequences.

Junior took a step closer to her and she was nearly overwhelmed by the smell of the alcohol that blanketed him. "Your mother was nothing to me, Paige. Just a good time in bed. What other name would you call a whore" And when she had you I allowed her to stay here and paid her to keep silent. She took the money and she kept her silence. Even from our bastard child."

While he spoke she realized that he might be staying there and the idea of living with this man was sickening. Not only that, it terrified her. Before he could even finish his words Paige's hand swung up, delicate palm finding Junior's square cheek in a smack. It echoed in the night air even after her hand had finished its path.

Junior was furious at the contact and before she could even draw her hand back he reached out to grab her wrist "How dare you." His mouth was twisted in fury for her act against him and the fact she wasn't backing down even as he gripped her.

Paige stood firm on her heels with a glare of her own. "Let go of me and leave at once you poor excuse for a human being!"

Her words only fueled his rage. Obviously this girl didn't know who she was messing with but was soon to learn that lesson. He released her only to backhand her hard enough to send her to the ground, violin case spilling to the grass to one side and her bag to the other.

Wide eyed she stared up at the towering man but quickly reached to collect her violin case. Before her hand could touch the handle Junior's hard sole shoe crashed down onto her delicate hand and fingers. She quickly started to writhe in agony. "Stop! What are you doing!?"

He bore his weight into the foot when he bent down, reaching to pick up the case. Self satisfaction registered on his harsh face when he claimed the case and at the near same time she yowled as bones in her hand and fingers snapped under the weight. "I will take this back and you will do well to get off my property. Of course if you refuse I can just call the Guard and tell them a slut is selling herself in my yard." His foot peeled away and he started to the house.

Paige quickly curled the shattered hand to her chest, tears pouring down her cheeks. The mess of sheer plum shook around her body as she stood, indicating that the frame beneath it was shaking. "What about my things"! You..You really aren't kicking me out of my own home are you?!"

"Your things" There is nothing of yours here. Now get off my property!" The front door slammed, shutting the interior and Junior from the world. He had no more words left to waste on the girl shaking on the lawn.

She had been wrong thinking he had come there to show compassion. He came there to take everything away from her. When the porch light flicked on she flinched and bent to pick up her bag. Not knowing where she was heading she left the yard she had known all of her short lived life.

"Your hand..." Dean pointed out, glancing at her injured hand again. "You should have that looked at."

"Well if that isn't off subject." Paige tugged on him. "Come on, Dean. I can't get you out of the car on my own. Don't worry about my hand right now. Either you get out of the car or I'll drive us to the hospital." She looked at him as sternly as her dainty face would allow.

He frowned up at her and swung his legs out of the car, holding onto the side of the door to pull himself to his feet. "No hospital. They ask too many questions."

"True.." And she wasn't in the mood to discuss what happened to be a bunch of people. "You don't have insurance, do you?" She figured that was why he didn't want to go. Reaching out she curled her good arm against his back with her fingers against his side. "Here, you can lean into me if you need to."

"No," he answered glumly. "Thanks, it's upstairs."

She nodded, kicking the door closed once they were moving and started him to and up the stairs. She was careful going about it, making sure that he was ready for each step before advancing. "Hospitals do ask too many questions. I guess that is why I don't want to go either.."

"Why' Don't you have insurance either?"

She was concerned and amused at the same time by the question. "Not only that but I would be asked all sort of questions." When they reached the door her head tilted and with a flinch of pain she forced her broken hand to move just enough to slide the key into the door. She noticed his own hand had moved as if he were to take the key from her, his fingers grazing over hers. His touch was wet and clammy. Quickly she turned the knob, causing his hand to fall away and the door to open. "Where is the light?"

"It's on the wall, to your right."

"Great!" Using her pinky she yanked the key from the door handle and helped him in first, the side of her arm used to hit the light switch. She'd have to come back to close the door. The light blared, hurting her eyes. After a few blinks she looked over the loft. The door opened into a small living room or den, with a small kitchen off that and a hallway that led to the bed and bath. It was very sparsely furnished and even more sparsely decorated. But there was at least a couch. Her eyes turned to the man leaning into her. "Is the-" And she paused.

For the first time she actually got a good look at him and he was not what she was expecting. She didn't quite know what she was expecting but he was not it. He was gorgeous. He was either a jock from a football team or the bad boy sort that mother always told her to be careful of. They stole and broke your heart without even flinching. His type was the sort that avoided her type. She was far from being a cheerleader and hardly worth his fuss.

Remembering herself she spluttered. "Is there anyplace I should help you to?"

"No..." He pulled away from her and stumbled into the apartment, dropping into the closest chair, rubbing a hand against his chest. "There's a first aid kit in the bathroom."

Her hand fell but quickly raised to close the door. Nodding she entered and tipped her head. Well if that wasn't an invitation if she ever heard one. "And that is...where?"

He lifted a hand and gestured toward a hallway, down which was a bedroom and bathroom.

She kept her attention focused and she was off to the bathroom to gather the first aid kit. It was balanced on her arm with the bad hand on her return, already browsing for the items she would need to patch him up. "Are you feeling any better?" It was called from the hall.

"Let me see your hand."

"My hand?" She tried not to frown as the first aid was moved so that she could offer the broken hand to him. His request was a little surprising as was his concern. Her knuckles, and slightly below, were terribly discolored. First finger and third finger bruised and looked as if they might've needed to be set. The middle was more so, probably broken.

She watched as his fingers wandered over her hand gently, as if she were precious glass he was afraid to break. Her breath caught, trying not to fidget. It didn't hurt all that much but his touch and the feeling it brought about was a completely new thing. It wasn't like pain was unknown to her but this, this was a different sort and she was glad for his tenderness.

"It's broken, Paige. You need to see a doctor....or a healer."

The idea of seeing a doctor made her sigh. "Great.." After her mother's death she didn't want to see another hospital, doctor, or funeral home ever again.

"I can wrap it for you, but you should ice it for a while. It will help with the pain and the swelling. It probably needs to be set. Do you know any healers?" He released her hand as he spoke.

"No. No I don't. I guess I can call Dr. Monceaux and ask if she can look at it for me. She may not ask too many questions...Maybe I can get her to come here. So she can look at you too?" Her hand remained out, in case he did want to wrap it. "I'm fine, Paige."

He clearly wasn't and she wasn't sure who he was trying to fool.

"And I can't afford to pay for a doctor." He pulled himself to his feet and started toward the kitchen.

She watched him stand and her good hand dove into her bag. "Who said you would be paying." Out came the cellphone and she was already thumbing through the numbers. Her heels echoed in the loft as she followed behind him just in case he passed out which he looked like he was well on his way to doing.

"You're stubborn, aren't you? I can already tell that about you." He grabbed a clean towel and went into the freezer to look for some ice or better yet, a bag of frozen peas.

She found him calling her stubborn quite amusing. "Like you have room to talk." The phone went up to her ear and she leaned to the side. "Can you open the fridge for me?" She wanted to see what he had in there while she was busy waiting for the other end to be picked up. She had already deduced that, by the fact there was no pictures and such little around that he was either living solo or was just hankering down in a hideout.

He already had the freezer open and had to move out of the way for her to peruse the fridge. He grabbed a tray of ice cubes from the freezer and pulled open the fridge door for her.

Tilting her head she muttered when the voice on the other end shrilled a greeting. If one wished to call it such.

"WHAT"! What is so important that you disturb an artist during his performance"!"

"For christ sakes, James. Hi to you too. Is Scia there?"

"Oh shit! Paige darling" Is that you? Yeah the kid is around here someplace. You need something?"

"Uh huh. Think you could possibly send him to deliver some stuff to an address for me?"

"Sure. Doubt he would mind doing it if it is for you. Are you okay' You sound like you haven't slept in months. We cannot have our precious flower wilting on stage!"

"Yeah I am okay I guess.." She moved to the counter to keep an eye on Dean. "My clothes out of my locker at the hall. And see if Scia can bring something from the kitchen."

"Oh of course there is! You know Meme always cooking. She wined and dined us with a half day slow cooked roast with all the trimmings and for dessert was this scrumptious forest cake."

"Yum." She cooed, unable to help herself. She was so hungry and James was not helping. She spouted out the address. "And can you give the doctor a ring for me. Tell her I need her to come see about my hand?"

"Your hand" Paige what has happened to your hand"! Are you hurt darling" Shall I come to the rescue?"

"....Hm' No..No it's not that bad." It could be worse. She watched as Dean continued to do whatever it was he was doing which at the moment consisted of dumping ice cubes into the towel and wrapping the towel creating a makeshift ice pack. When he glanced over to her with those curious eyes of his she smiled. Tilting her head to bring her eyes to the sink she considered the fact he had very little in the fridge. "Bring enough for two." And let Dean just try to say no.

"Oh' For two' Paige! You got some lad to woo do you?"

She spluttered at the tease and muttered. "Shut up James. It isn't like that."

"Oh okay. Well he better be on his best behavior! Anywho! I will have Scia give the doctor a call! She can bring your things on over. Ta-ta dove!"

She smiled. "That would be great! Thanks, James! Hm' Oh sure. Bye!" She flipped the phone closed and she sprouted a smile to Dean. "I hope you don't mind but I will be staying a little longer."

"Who's James?" he asked almost instantly. "Mi casa, su casa." He took up the ice pack and turned to her, reaching for her injured hand and gently laying the ice pack against it. "James" Oh he's a cello player in the orchestra. Very nice man." She nodded and turned her attention to what he had been doing. The cellphone was shoved into her bag and the bag onto the counter. The ice felt nice against her aching hand. "Good. Because you don't look all that great."

"I've been worse," he remarked, pressing the ice pack against her hand. "What orchestra?" he asked.

She inhaled sharply, not expecting him to press the ice pack down. She felt a wave of dizziness but managed not to yelp or say 'ow'. "Mmm. Thanks." She smiled and watched the ice pack. "The one I play in. I am a violinist and the main soloist for many of our concerts." The smile began to melt as she spoke.

He frowned at her and jerked his head up. The quick motion made her head quickly lift and she reached out with her good hand. "Dean are you okay' You look awfully pale. You aren't going to pass out are you?"

He was already backing away without even offering an answer but lowered himself into a chair at the table.

He didn't look so well and she watched him with growing worry. When he pulled back she took the ice pack to keep on her hand. She followed after him with a look of concern. "You are really bad off aren't you."

"No...Just a headache. Probably a concussion. Just need to relax for a few days." He looked up at her. "Who hit you, Paige?"

Standing near him, nearly hovering, she noticed his skin was far too pale and his pupils looked uneven. She tried to hide the surprised look that his question brought. Turning her head she started opening and closing counters trying to find where the cups were. "What makes you think someone hit me. I could've just fell." How she wished that were true. She felt so shamed about it all.

"You didn't fall. Bruise like that..." He was referring to the mark on her face, almost intuitively knowing from her body language that she was uncomfortable talking about it and hence hadn't fallen. "Someone hit you. Who is he" Boyfriend?"

Her hand left the counter she was digging into. She didn't realize that she had been trembling. She didn't want him to ask anymore. Her eyes were already filling with tears. Shaking her head she turned her back to him. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Paige..." His started, gentling his voice. "Who did this to you?"

She couldn't tend to the task of finding that glass any longer. Her good hand curved to her mouth to muffle a sob. Her head started to shake lightly, tossing the unpinned curls. "My father.." she did finally answered him.

"Your father?" he echoed in shock and disbelief. He found his feet again, his heart going out to her, wanting to comfort her somehow. He turned her gently to face him, his hands on her shoulders.

She shook her head more when he turned to her. She didn't want to cry about her sorrow in front of a complete stranger. "Please. Please don't ask any more." She was already about ready to break into tears. Lifting her eyes to his face she attempted to say more. Say she would be okay. She knew it would be a complete lie. If she couldn't play what more was there for her"

"It'll be okay, Paige. I promise."

She found his arms wrapping around her as if he were trying to protect her from all the bad in the world. She might've blushed herself into a new shade of red if it were not for the simple fact she was bursting into tears. Being drawn into an embrace by a hunk of a guy as she was, the only thing she wanted to do was cry. She broke like fine porcelain at the hug and she buried her face. His promise had her shaking her head. "He took everything from me Dean! He took my mother..my home..he took my violin and even my way of playing! How will it be okay"!" She demanded an answer from him. She knew it was unfair to throw it all on him but how" How was it to be okay"

He held her close and rubbed her back gently as he held her against him "Why would he do that?"

"He's a cruel man. Cruel.." Her good hand clenched at the end of his shirt, trying to keep herself from toppling into him fully. Shaking her head she dipped her face more until her forehead, instead of her face, was against his chest. Everything was now blurry and the world was in double. She needed to collect herself. "I am so sorry. I shouldn't be burdening you with my troubles."

"You're not going back there. I won't let him hurt you again." His lips formed a thin line and his jaw clenched tightly.

Her head rocked back and forth against his chest. "He would call the Watch on me if I went back. He took the house and told me to get off the property. He took all of my things." She chuckled a bit sourly. "I was on my way to the Inn." Raising her head even though she knew her face was probably as much a mess as her hair, she offered him a shaken smile. "Thank you, Dean. You are very kind."

He reached up to gently brush the tears from her face, no reply to her compliment. "You should see a healer. That hand is your livelihood."

Her smile disappeared, relaxing a bit to the touch he offered her face. It offered a sense of warmth and comfort to an unfocused world. "What good would my hand do me without my violin." It sounded, to a point, as if she had given up on hope itself. Her good hand tilted up to gently stop his own hand, fingers curling to his palm. "Doctor Monceaux will be here shortly. Please let her look at you too, okay?"

"You can get a new violin, Paige." He sighed, frowning down at her in a conciliatory manner. "If it will make you happy." He pulled himself slowly away from her.

She watched him part from her, realizing that her asking the doctor to look at him might've been the reason. Her lips pursed and she tilted her eyes when a knock came to the door. Silently she moved off to answer it. On her way she dried her face and attempted to fix her hair.

Opening the door she found the tall, black haired woman on the other side. "Dr. Monceaux. Thank you for coming."

"You know I normally don't make house calls, Miss Lovelace."

The woman's ice cold gaze always sent chills down her spine but the woman's kindness was clear as day. "I know. I'm very glad you came so quickly. I have a friend that is a bit hurt that I would like you to take a look at."

The doctor stepped in, catching Paige's chin and tilting her head to examine the bruise. "Is he the one who did this to you?" Before Paige could even answer the woman was releasing her chin and taking up her broken hand to examine it.

"No. He was in an accident and I am worried about him." She pulled from the woman's grasp and started back into the kitchen. Hopefully Dean hadn't passed out.

She returned to the kitchen with a tall, slender black-haired woman behind her. A tote bag was left on the counter near her purse and she moved to the table to drop off the tied paper bag with two dinners inside. Tilting her head she looked to Dean, trying to make sure he was okay.

"Is this the young man?" The woman questioned and Paige nodded. "Well lets have a look see, boy. Come on." The woman settled her case on the table opposite side of Paige.

Dean watched the pair of women moving. "It's her hand..." He pointed out, his voice sounding weak.

She smiled a bit, pretty sure he was trying to avoid having the doctor look at him. "Who is the doctor here." The woman snapped and reached out to take his chin. The makeshift bandages were pulled up. "I've already looked at her hand. Hers will take a little longer to deal with so we are knocking yours out of the way. How is your vision' Not seeing double are we?"

"Not unless there are two of you," he replied, meeting the doctor's gaze when she took his chin in her palm.

The doctor's bright blue eyes lit when he said that, finding obvious amusement. "You should be fine. I will leave some pain medication to help but from the looks of it, and your quick wit, you should be back to causing problems in a few days." His chin was pinched at the tease and the doctor stood. "Do you mind if I take Miss Lovelace to the bedroom to deal with her hand?"

Paige silently watched, concerned and anxious mixed up into one. When she heard her name she quickly looked over to the doctor.

He arched a brow. "Lovelace?" he looked over at her. "Um....Sure, I guess."

She watched Dean, who seemed so unsure about allowing the two of them into the back bedroom. Or was it the way he spoke her last name" Like it was a running joke she didn't catch. She decided best to not ask and turned her attention to the doctor who pressed a palm against her back and was leading her to the back room with bag in hand.

"Stop gawking, child. I wish to get home soon."

"Lovelace?" he repeated. She heard him, faintly, from the hall.

Three or so minutes went by in silence until Paige's screech broke the air. It was followed by a second one soon after then first, then silence. That was all that was given from behind the closed door of the bedroom.

The doctor's face showed her dislike for the screaming the younger woman was giving. "All done, Miss Lovelace."

She didn't want to admit how the doctor setting her fingers made the world all the more unfocused. She felt like she was bordering on passing out from the pain alone.

Her eyes rose up when she heard pounding footsteps and the door rushing open. There stood Dean with a look of panic on his face. She must've startled him with her weakness. She felt her body slump and the doctor moved to shoulder some of Paige's weight. A hand cupped over her mouth to silence herself from crying out any more but the tears were hard to hide.

The doctor's cool gaze turned to Dean and a brow swept up.

He looked between them but turned concerned eyes to Paige, seeing her tears. "Are you okay?" he asked, shifting his gaze to the doctor. "Is she gonna be okay?"

Paige nodded to the question but she didn't dare attempt to speak.

The doctor chuckled at Dean and his quick shot questions. Returning to her work the doctor nodded. "She will be fine. She won't be able to use this hand for a while but she will be back to playing in no time. Ah. There we go. If you think you can manage to keep from using your hand I won't put it in a cast." The doctor eyed Paige as she made the 'threat'. Paige nodded a bit numbingly. Finding her work done the doctor stood, stuffing her things into her bag and made her way to Dean. Oh she was giving him a heavy assessing stare.

He straightened as the doctor made her way toward him. "You're just going to wrap it?" he asked, looking over at the doctor's handiwork.

"Her fingers are set and need to heal. If she takes care of it there is no reason for a cast. There are finger splints to keep her fingers from moving so no, I didn't just wrap her hand." The doctor seemed amused by his question. She pulled out two bottles and offered them to him. "This one is for you. Make sure to take one every six hours. It will help any pain you have. If you feel nauseated or pass out, come see me at the hospital immediately. Ice pack your head to help with swelling but you are not in any threat of a coma. Avoid anything strenuous." She seemed to stress that for some reason.

He took both bottles, brooking no argument with the doctor, a small frown at her warning. "Thanks, I'll be fine. Not my first concussion." He looked back at Paige again, wondering what she was thinking.

He was a young man and there were a number of things she could've meant! The doctor laughed and patted his shoulder, letting herself out of the loft.

It was only when the door closed that Paige seemed to attempt to stand. Her legs felt like jello and the ground didn't look as steady as she would've liked. She was trying to form thoughts but they were sluggish at best. "I should-" She started but paused, a look of faded concentration attempting to find her face. "I should go too. The inn-"

He tracked the doctor with his eyes until he heard the door close and then he looked back at Paige from his lean in the doorway. He frowned over at her but remained where he was. "You can stay the night if you want. I promise I won't bother you. I'll sleep on the couch. You can even lock the door, if you want."

"Dean.." His name was spoken bittersweetly. The offer was far too kind for someone who she just met. She wanted to decline it. It was his home, his bed. Her mind said one thing but her body spoke another. The world was layered three times and starting to blur. She felt like she was being crushed and she spilled back onto the bed, landing with a huff. Her body half hung off the bed and she tried to push herself back up.

"Paige?"

She heard his voice and the concern it held. It sounded like a distant drown of what it should be. "I'm okay. I just..just let me rest for a few." Even her voice sounded distant to herself. Her eyes were already closed and she didn't seem like she was going to be moving any time soon. "I am not going to lock the door nor do you have to leave. I trust you, Dean.."

She felt his hands against her legs, the wet dress sticking to her even as he positioned her a bit better on the bed and tucked her in. "Goodnight, Paige. If you need anything, I'll be on the couch."

A heavy breath was drawn and released, the butt end of what could've been her earlier sobbing. She tried to speak but wasn't even sure it came out properly, sounding like jumbles to her. Even his voice in reply was nothing but a mumble. The closing door wasn't even noted as the young man left her to her heavy slumber.

Junior's lips curled cruelly, caught between a sneer and a smirk. Ruthlessly, Junior continued, attempting to throw Dean off long enough to throw a punch. One punch was all he would need. "Tell me boy how did she reel you into breaking and entering" Did she moan sweet little nothings as she took you into her bed" Scream in lust and beg pleadingly for you to do her dirty work?" One little move boy. That was all he needed.

Dean backed away, his lips forming a hard, thin line, eyes flashing angrily, the gun remaining level and pointed at Junior's chest. Part of him wanted nothing more than for the bastard to give him an excuse to shoot, while the other half knew that if he did, he'd be in a lot more trouble than what he was now. "I didn't break in. You left the door open. I wonder how the authorities would feel if they knew how you treated your family. For that matter, how would the press feel about it?" He felt something bump his back and knew he was running out of backing up room.

Dean still wasn't quite sure who the guy was, but he was getting the feeling there was more going on here than met the eye. The guy had money and if he had money, he might be someone in a position of power or at the very least, someone who was in the public eye. A master at the game of Poker, Dean decided to take a chance and bluff. "I want her violin and everything else that belongs to her."

"And who do you think they would believe" The head of a large respected family or a lowly girl who has nothing?" Dean was followed at careful paces. "That little hussy was just trying to squeeze me for money. And listen to you. Coming onto my property and making demands" You really have some balls, kid. Open door or not these grounds are my property. Trespasser." Junior rumbled out a loud laugh that even caused the little cat to cringe back in its cage. "Her..her belongings" There is nothing here but that beast and some papers. Everything has been removed and has either been sold off or sent to the garbage weeks ago. Just a bunch of worthless junk really." Another drink but Junior's eyes were leveled on the boy he had caught to the wall.

Dean looked the man over, sizing him up. He was bigger than Dean, but Dean was the one holding the gun and somehow he knew as soon as he lowered it, he was going to be in big trouble. With his back to the wall, he had to think fast and distraction was probably his best weapon, but he wasn't really thinking of his own safety at the moment. He was too angry at what the man was saying about Paige. "Listen to me, you son of a bitch..." He started, stepping forward, the cage in one hand, the gun in the other, not backing down. "You so much as touch one hair on Paige's head again, and I'll kill you, you hear me?"

The threat annoyed Junior enough that he actually took a side swipe, trying to slap the gun away from its position. "You dare to threaten me"!" His voice bellowed out and there was no doubt that he was enraged.

Dean's finger squeezed the trigger when Junior slapped at the gun, more out of instinct than anything else, and the shot went wide. Dean swung the cat's cage at the man in an attempt to knock him off balance and make a run for it.

Dean missed but barely, which would probably be to his disappointment. Junior did stumble back but turned enough to watch Dean make his run. If Junior was shaken he didn't show it. Just rumbled an angry sound.

Dean had what he came for and had said what he wanted to say, there was no point in staying and risking getting into deeper trouble. He had youth in his favor, moving faster and nimbler than his older self might. The minor cuts and bruises of the last few days were aching a little, but he did his best to ignore them. He would have liked nothing better than to take a swing at the guy, but he felt he made his point clear.

Junior had no intention on following but would make a few calls. He didn't have the boy's name or information but he did have Paige's. Dean would get away..for now.

Dean wasn't very surprised that the man didn't follow. After all, guys like that usually had lackeys to do the dirty work for them. He was just happy to have escaped unscathed and with the cat as his prize. He hurriedly opened the door, laying the cat's cage on the passenger seat before climbing into the car, and driving away, flicking a glance at the mirror to see if he was being followed.

No he wasn't being followed but his 'partner in crime' was whining pitifully. Meows were shortened chirps at all of the movement.

Dean looked over at the cat, hoping he hadn't hurt her. "Sorry about that," he apologized to the cat, even though he knew she wouldn't understand a word of what he said. "You should be thanking me. That douchebag was gonna kill you."

Hey if you were hungry and been tossed around you'd be yeowling too. Eventually the small feline curled up to the back of the cage. Huddled into what it felt was safe it fell quiet.

Dean relaxed a little, every now and then looking into the mirror to check for tagalongs, as he headed toward the loft on the WestEnd.