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The Keys to Destiny	By : mistresswhimsy Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 2114 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: Nothing about Supernatural is mine everything belongs to its rightful owners. I make no money from the series or this story.

Chapter List
- 3
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- 5
There were rare times when Dean would lie in the dark, beside his sleeping girlfriend, and feel out of place. The feeling would come upon him suddenly, for no reason that he could ascertain. Sometimes it seemed as though he could feel it settling in his chest, a thick, heavy sensation that made him at once restless and lethargic. He would turn to look at Carmen and she would seem unfamiliar. He would look towards the nightstand, where the clock and a few random knick knacks resided, and think it strange that he saw them every night. Everything was too familiar and at once unknown to him.
This feeling would escalate until he could no longer stand it. He would get up and go outside, or flip mindlessly through channels on the TV until sleep finally took him. Tonight was one of those nights. The remote felt strangely heavy in his hand as he pressed the channel button repeatedly, his eyes blank and unseeing as the pictures flew rapidly across the screen. His earlier plan to talk to Cas was prodding at the back of his mind but his lids refused to close. This is wrong, a voice whispered to him, one that sounded like his own but rougher, as though the life of the person attached to it had led a much different life. You shouldn't be here.
Then where was he supposed to be?
Sleep crept up on him slowly, so slowly he didn't really notice it pulling him down until he realized he was no longer in his living room. He was standing in a barren yard, facing an old, faded blue house. Castiel was sitting on the steps, his eyes expectant and not at all surprised when they saw him standing there. He smiled and Dean thought that smile seemed apologetic.
He was tired of fighting this. There seemed to be no point in it, anyway. So Dean walked over, sat beside Castiel on the stairs and said nothing. He just waited.
"I'm sorry," Castiel said quietly after a moment. "I didn't mean to push you out yesterday."
Dean frowned in confusion and turned to look at Cas questioningly. "Push me out?"
Castiel nodded. "I pushed you from my dream when you became angry with me. I shouldn't have."
"Oh." Was that why he'd woken so sharply? "It's okay." He shrugged and gave Cas one of his crooked smiles, something he'd often done with Sam when they were kids to show him he'd accepted an apology. "Got a question for you."
"Okay." Castiel turned a little so he was more fully facing Dean. "What is it?"
"Am I going crazy?"
The other man looked saddened by this question. He shook his head and reached out to put a hand on Dean's knee. He thought that should have bothered him but it didn't. "You're not crazy, Dean. I promise."
Strangely enough, Dean felt comforted. It was fine, everything was just fine. Maybe if he just went with it these dreams would go away on their own and he would eventually forget he ever had them.
"Let me show you something new," Castiel offered suddenly, blue eyes hopeful and intent, always intent. It amazed Dean how Castiel could let everything show right there, in plain sight, where anyone could take it and use it against him. Then he remembered; it was just a dream. Castiel was, at best, his bizarre imaginary friend.
Still. It seemed strange that he had invented someone so at ease with their own feelings.
"Alright," Dean agreed.
Castiel smiled, a little smile that appeared more in the brightness of his eyes than in the curve of his lips. He stood from the steps and held out a hand to Dean. At first Dean thought Cas was merely helping him up, so he took it easily, but when his fingers threaded through Dean's own the man became more uncomfortable. His eyes shifted uneasily from their hands to Castiel's face, then to the dirt and patches of grass at the base of the porch. "Come on, dude, this is girly."
"Dean." Castiel took a step towards him, keeping a firm grip on his hand when the other man tried to pull away. "This is affection. No one should ever be embarrassed or ashamed to show affection, nor should they be ridiculed for the manner in which they choose to show it. Besides, no one else is here."
"Well...yeah," Dean mumbled reluctantly, though his fingers slowly curled upwards to complete the threading of their hands. "Fine. What were you going to show me?"
Castiel grinned, and then the world dropped away.
Literally.
Dean let out a startled shout as all solid matter vanished, whisked away in a whirl of transparent colors. It reminded him somewhat of the wormhole he'd seen on an episode of Stargate SG-1, only it was wider, slower, and through it he could clearly see the stars. Suddenly he was glad he was holding onto Cas's hand because, dream or no, he felt that if he wasn't he would be flung away into the coalescing colors.
"This is definitely new!" Dean cried as his eyes lit with a mixture of fear and excitement. His mouth opened to release a sound somewhere between a laugh and a startled yell as the whirl abruptly ended, flattening into a bizarre path of glowing silver moonlight. It curved sharply downwards and Castiel let out a whoop as they slid sideways, faster and faster until it curved upwards and they were flung into the stars.
"Dude, we just surfed on moonlight!" Dean yelled ecstatically.
The hand in his tightened and Dean felt an arm go around his waist as they settled into a standing position, though there was nothing beneath their feet but space. This time, Dean didn't feel at all uncomfortable with the closeness. He was so high on the thrill that it felt somehow natural.
"People don't realize just how free you can become in a dream," Castiel murmured. Dean almost started when he realized the other man's mouth was right next to his ear. Almost. "How real it can feel."
Dean grinned and without thinking put a hand over the arm around his waist. "Definitely feels real."
There was a sudden silence behind him, as though Cas had stopped breathing. Then Dean felt himself being turned. One hand now rested over his hip and Dean realized he'd let his own hand slide along with Castiel's, keeping the contact that felt oddly easy. Something in him said to back away, to make another crack about being girly. Instead he met Castiel's eyes, tried to read the emotions there. Nervousness, determination, something else, something...more. Adoration?
It's just a dream, Dean told himself distantly.
Yet when Castiel leaned forward, eyes now closed as he brushed his lips against Dean's, it didn't feel like a dream. It felt so real it was almost painful.
"Dean? Dean, wake up. Sam's here."
Dean didn't just wake up. He exploded off the couch as though a bomb had detonated beneath him, the expression on his face shocked and even afraid. Carmen took a startled step back and Dean vaguely heard a laugh that sounded like Sam's.
"Carmen!" Dean's voice was so desperate he nearly squeaked. He reached out to grasp her arms and pulled her almost roughly to him. The feel of her lips against his own was as soft and perfect as it always was...but it didn't work. He could still feel the firmer, stronger brush of Cas's mouth, as persistent and stubborn as the presence of the man himself.
"Morning to you too!" Carmen giggled as Dean stepped back, oblivious to the distressed expression on his face. "Go talk to Sam, he has exciting news."
Sam. Sam was good, Sam would distract him. Except...no! He'd notice!
Dean was getting ready to make some wild excuse but Sam had already come into the living room. His eyes were bright with excitement and Dean found that, for a moment, he was able to put aside what had just happened and focus on that. "What's up?" he asked, hoping his voice sounded casual and not forced.
"I did it!" Sam announced happily. "I asked Jess and she said yes!"
"That's great." Dean reached over and slapped Sam on the back as he forced a smile onto his face. No weird dream was going to spoil this for Sammy, damn it! "So what are you doing here?"
Sam chuckled. "Ah, Jess and Mom decided you had to throw me a bachelor party. Although I don't know why we have to do it now, it's not like we're getting married tomorrow."
Ah ha! That meant strip club, which equaled the perfect distraction.
"That okay with you?" Dean asked, turning to Carmen and aiming his puppy eyes at her.
Carmen rolled her eyes even as she laughed; she knew exactly what Dean was thinking. "It's fine, go ahead. I'll go see Jess, congratulate her."
"Cool!" Dean whipped back around and grabbed Sam by the arm, practically dragging him towards the door. "See ya later!"
"Wait wait, where are we going?" Sam asked suspiciously as he was shoved towards the car. "And what's with you? You look freaked out about something."
"I'm fine," Dean said a little too quickly. "And you'll see."
There were several strip clubs in Lawrence but Dean's favorite was called the Paradise Lounge. It was small but fairly cheap, all things considered, and the music tended to be more varied. Sam looked like he was going to have a heart attack as soon as he saw the place; he'd never been a bar person to begin with, the only time he had gone into one was when he was seventeen and Dean had made him a fake ID.
"Ah, Dean...I don't turn twenty one until next year," Sam pointed out. "This place does have alcohol, doesn't it?"
Dean shrugged. "Yeah." He parked the car and reached into his pocket, removing his small leather wallet and waving it at Sam with a somewhat evil grin. "I still have your fake ID."
"WHAT?" Sam tried to take the wallet from him but Dean leapt out of the car and held it at arms reach. "Why do you still have that?"
"Just in case," Dean answered with another shrug. "Come on, let's go!"
"This is a bad idea," Sam mumbled but he climbed out of the car and followed Dean in anyway.
Dean's hope of staying in the club for a few hours quickly died when it became apparent that Sam was not having any fun at all, so they left and went to a regular bar a few blocks from Dean's work instead. They played pool and drank and when they were drunk enough they even went out and danced. That was when Dean got an idea which, in his beer addled mind, seemed like a perfectly reasonable one.
There were a lot of guys in the bar, some hanging out in groups, others there with their girlfriends or wives. There was even a gay couple at the end of the bar, though Dean didn't even realize it until one of them got up to leave and kissed his boyfriend goodbye. They didn't look gay...then again, maybe his perception was just narrow? That wasn't the point, he reminded himself. The point was...to look. Right. He needed more beer.
When Dean approached the bar he paid for another bottle, then sat down, took a long swig and looked down the bar at the other guys sitting there. The kiss in his dream was still greatly bothering him and he wanted...no, he needed...to know if it meant what he thought it might mean. So, one by one, he looked them all over, but when it did absolutely nothing for him he only became even more confused. If you dreamed about kissing a guy and it felt right, didn't that make you gay? Or at least bi? He knew he still liked Carmen and all of her girly parts and had enjoyed the strippers as much as he always did. He tried again, just to be sure. Nothing. They were just guys.
He didn't realize the man at the end of the bar had moved until he sat down again beside Dean.
... * ...
After Castiel woke up he spent nearly an hour doing one of two things; beating himself up for allowing his Cherub side to overwhelm him into kissing Dean and trying to rationalize the events of yesterday.
As he pulled a cold cheeseburger from the bag he'd moved up onto the couch he tried to set aside his foolishness and think about the whole new set of troubles he was faced with. Bobby hadn't been possessed long, a couple of hours at most. Had a demon spotted him in the city before he'd run and possessed Bobby as he was passing through? It seemed the most logical explanation, it was highly unlikely a demon had simply swept down and taken him on a hunch that Castiel would be found on that particular road. But why? He didn't even know why Uriel had come for him but demons made even less sense! And how had the demon been cast from Bobby's...
"Dean!" Castiel cried aloud, dropping the cheeseburger in a sudden burst of excitement.
"Remember, soulmates are powerful even apart, but together they can change destiny."
Amor had once attempted to describe soulmates to a teenage Castiel. Even when they were apart they were connected, sensing when the other was in danger or occasionally the others emotions, even if it was subconscious. Some, Amor had explained, had the ability to do what he called a Spirit Meld. He had been unable to put it into better terms than that but if Castiel understood correctly it meant that, for a few seconds, both souls would share the same body. The effect was something like the protection and banishing abilities of a pentacle, only ten times more powerful. It would explain the warmth he'd felt and how right it had been, how welcome. Had Dean been aware of it at all? Surely he must have felt something. Yes...yes, he must have! That was why he'd asked Castiel if he was going crazy! The half blood felt so excited he could hardly stand it. Now he knew it for certain; on some level, Dean was aware of his existence in reality.
Casting a distasteful glance at the burger he'd thrown to the floor, Castiel decided he'd go into town and find something better for breakfast. He might have loved the cheeseburgers on the first day but the second day, and cold no less...they just lost their appeal.
Besides, he thought cheerfully as he left the rickety old house and headed towards the road, maybe he'd find Dean today.
He found a small cafe a short ways into town, which looked far more appealing than the burgers had. He stayed there for some time, drinking coffee long after his breakfast was gone and trying to think of the best place to look for Dean. From what he'd seen of his personality he would be willing to bet that Dean liked to go to a bar after work. How many bars did Lawrence have? He didn't even want to contemplate it. Where would Dean work? As a construction worker? A mechanic? He couldn't see Dean in a desk job.
"Too many questions," Castiel murmured to himself.
He would just walk, he decided. What else could he do? He bought one more coffee to take with him, which left him just over eighteen dollars. This was shoved deep down into his pocket for later.
It was just after ten when he left the cafe. For a while he kept to the same street, subtly watching as people passed him. Occasionally his gaze would wander into a store window as he went by. After a while he turned down a different street. It led him passed a few bars, random gift shops, another cafe and an auto shop. Something made him stop there and look up at the sign: Rob's Auto Shop. It was perfectly normal looking and he obviously had no need of an auto shop, yet the feeling persisted. Well...it wouldn't hurt to ask, would it?
Slowly, Cas opened the door and stepped inside. He heard a bell above the door ring and seconds later a tall, lanky man with greasy streaks in his hair poked his head around the doorway of a tiny office. "Can I help you?"
For a moment Castiel didn't know what to say, he almost turned around and walked right back out. Then, after he told himself firmly that he was being silly, he took a few steps forward. "I was just wondering if a man named Dean works here."
The man stepped out of the office and nodded. "Yeah, he's not here today though. He should be in tomorrow if you want to come back."
That same excitement he'd felt earlier flared to life in him again. What if he hadn't asked? What would have happened? He decided he didn't care. He almost asked the man for Dean's address but decided against it. Were he in his position he certainly wouldn't give out personal information to a complete stranger.
"What time will he be here?" Castiel asked, his voice surprisingly steady considering he felt as if his emotions would overwhelm him at any moment.
The man opened his mouth to answer, frowned, then shook his head and ducked back into the office. He stuck his head around the doorway a moment later. "He comes in at eleven tomorrow. Want me to tell him to expect you?"
"No, that's alright," Castiel replied with a smile. "I want to surprise him. Thank you very much."
"No problem."
When Castiel left the auto shop he nearly let out a whoop right there in the middle of the street. He'd found him! Finally, he'd found him! Then he calmed a little as he reminded himself that he hadn't actually met him yet, face to face. That would be the hardest part. He only hoped Dean wouldn't react too badly. Maybe he could warn him tonight, find a way to actually...
...what was that?
Castiel felt a sudden lurch and he actually stumbled forward, as though someone had pushed him. A sense of alarm came over him but it wasn't his. He heard a gasp and felt something hard collide with his back...a wall? Through another's eyes he saw a man approaching, saw him suddenly stop and shake himself, as though he'd forgotten why he was there. Then he blinked and the street reappeared before him.
Dean, he thought. He'd just melded with Dean. But why? Who was that man and why had he been a threat to him? Was he okay? The desire to find him and discover this for himself was overwhelming but he knew there was nothing he could do, so instead he began to make his way back out of town. He could always ask what had happened tonight, he assured himself. He needed to talk to his father again as well. If they really were melding, why hadn't it happened before?
"Too many questions," Castiel muttered again with a shake of his head.
... * ...
"What part of go away do you not understand?" Dean growled over his beer bottle.
The man beside him, who had introduced himself as Cory, only smiled, as if he thought Dean's reluctance was some sort of game. "I saw you looking."
"I was looking around. Not at anyone!" Dean slammed his beer down onto the bar and started to stand. He didn't have to put up with this. He'd just go get Sam and they'd play some more pool.
His feet had barely touched the floor when a hand came up to press against his chest, stalling his movement. Dean tried to push passed but Cory was surprisingly strong. And he was a little drunk. "Don't you have a partner?" Dean practically snarled. The tone was a cover for the prickle of alarm teasing at the back of his neck. Dean didn't usually mix drinking and fighting, beer made him too uncoordinated for it.
"That what you're worried about? It's a loose relationship, hun, don't worry about it."
Dean thought the term 'hun' sounded really weird coming out of the guy's mouth, particularly because it was directed at him. "Dude, I am not gay. Back...off."
With an almost violent shove Dean was able to get passed the man's grip. He strode quickly across the room towards the pool table, where Sam had struck up a conversation with a couple other guys, but before he could reach him an iron grip locked around his upper arm. Dean didn't even have time to call out to his brother before he was being hauled out a side door and into the alley behind the bar.
Okay, now he was pissed! Dean twisted sharply, nearly breaking the grip around his arm, though the sudden action made him dizzy. He tried to lunge forward but Cory's other hand came up to lock around his other arm, trapping him firmly in place. Dean felt that sense of alarm spike through his anger, which only pissed him off all the more.
"I know your kind," The man said, his voice at once amused and a bit annoyed. "You act all clueless and outraged. You think you're the first person to pull this?"
"I'm not pulling anything, you dick!" Dean yelled, and then he thought maybe that hadn't been the best choice of insult. "Get the hell off me!"
Cory shoved him. Dean let out a grunt as his back collided with the brick wall. His head snapped back and struck the solid surface, sending a sharp surge of pain swirling behind his eyes. He saw Cory coming towards him and suddenly, out of the blue, he remembered Castiel's lips against his. For just a second he thought he could feel the soft brush of them, then a strange warmth spread through him, comforting and...welcome, somehow. He looked again at the other man and saw him stop, his eyes clouding with confusion as he shook his head as though to clear it. Then he muttered something about too much beer and walked out of the alley, apparently completely forgetting all about the man he'd just tried to force himself on.
"Dean!" The door burst open so suddenly that it crashed against the wall. The rush of conversation and music that fled from the opening hit Dean with the force of a rock. He felt sick, he realized, but he didn't understand why. "Dean!"
A wide eyed, worried gaze came into his line of vision as Sam reached out to grasp Dean's shoulders, just above where Cory's grip had likely left bruises. Sam's grip was familiar, safe even, and Dean felt the nauseous sensation begin to ease away. Had it just been a combination of beer and adrenaline? "I'm okay, Sammy," Dean murmured suddenly.
"What happened?" Sam started to slide an arm around Dean's shoulders but the man pushed himself off the wall and began to walk on his own. Sam followed him, appearing relieved when it seemed Dean was alright rather than offended when his help was brushed aside.
"Some guy decided I was eyeing him and..." Dean trailed off, his eyes darting around uncomfortably as they walked back inside the bar.
Sam snorted, which he immediately followed with a cough in an attempt to hide it. "Shut up!" Dean reached over and shoved his little brother but Sam only grinned.
"Aw, poor Dean!" Sam laughed and leapt back to avoid being clocked when Dean glared at him. "Why didn't you just hit him or something?"
"Beer," Dean said simply. He considered telling Sammy what had almost happened but decided against it. "Doesn't matter, he's gone. Come on, lets play some more pool."
Two in the morning saw them stumbling from the bar, clinging to each other for support to keep from falling. Dean was by far worse than Sam; at least his little brother could stand up straight. Dean couldn't see straight, much less stand upright.
"Dean," Sam whispered; he had this strange need to be quiet when he was drunk, like he was trying to keep it a secret. "Dean...where's the car?"
"Screw the car," Dean mumbled. He had just enough sense to fumble for his cell but once he had it out of his pocket he couldn't make heads or tails of the damn thing. "Sammy, here." He thrust the phone up towards Sam's face. "Call somebody."
"Call somebody," Sam repeated as he took the cell phone, and then he giggled like it was the silliest thing he'd ever heard. Had Dean been in a more sober frame of mind he would have teased him for giggling. Guys don't giggle, he told himself with a nod.
An extremely sleepy John answered the phone. Dean could vaguely hear his voice as Sam told him that they were drunk, which he stated so clearly that for a second Dean thought maybe he'd sobered up, but then he started snickering uncontrollably and had to cling even more tightly to Dean to keep from falling. A muffled laugh came through the phone, then Dean heard John say he'd be there in a minute.
"Okay. Dad's coming," Sam announced as he shut the phone and handed it back to Dean. "I think I'm going to fall down."
"Yeah, me too," Dean agreed. The pavement was starting to spin and he was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to be doing that.
Somehow, they managed to stay on their feet until John pulled up. He laughed at them as he got out of his car and helped them into the back seat. Sam ended up sprawled across most of the seat with his feet stuck out near the door, so Dean tripped over him as he tried to get in and ended up partially draped across his waist. John's laughter increased to something close to hysterical as he shut the door and got back into the drivers seat. Dean briefly considered sitting up but decided it wasn't worth it. Besides, Sammy didn't seem to care.
Dean was almost asleep when someone began pulling on his arm. "Go 'way," he mumbled irritably, waving a hand towards whoever was trying to get him up.
"Dean, get up," John chuckled. "We're home. You shouldn't have let Sam get drunk."
"Mmph!" Dean protested, but he let John pull him upright and out of the car. "Sammy's fine."
Sam was dead to the world asleep when John climbed in to try and get him out. Nothing he did would wake him, so finally he grabbed an arm and simply hauled Sammy out of the back seat. Dean went to help and found his feet were a little steadier, though his vision was still doing strange things.
"We'll just put him on the couch," John said quietly as they carried him into the house. "I'm not carrying him upstairs."
"Me neither," Dean agreed sleepily.
The two dumped Sam unceremoniously onto the couch. He never woke up, not even when they rearranged him so he wouldn't fall off. Dean swiped a pillow from under his feet and promptly flopped onto the carpet; he didn't care where he slept, he just wanted to fall into oblivion before facing the hangover waiting for him in the morning.
When Dean slipped into unconsciousness there were no forests or rivers or blue houses with bare yards. He was surrounded by a black, smoke like substance, so thick he could see nothing else. Fear bloomed so sharply in his chest that he couldn't breathe; this wasn't the first time he'd been here. Since Sam's birth he'd had this nightmare, always the same one. Wide eyes stared out into the writhing black as he wished desperately he could wake up. Any minute now...he'd be here...
Something moved in the black, the shape of a man. Dean tried to move but as always he was frozen, held in place by the strange smoke. He could hear laughter around him, twisted, cruel laughter, and then the man stepped into his sight.
"Sammy!" Dean cried.
Sam stood there, in a white suit, the small smile on his face not his own. Sam's smile wasn't cold or cruel, like the laughter that echoed around them, sealing them in a pocket of fear. Wake up, Dean told himself desperately. It's just a dream, wake up!
"You always fight," he said, his tone darkly amused. "When will you except that this is inevitable?"
Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream...Dean repeated the comforting mantra over and over, silently, as he closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to look at the stranger in his brother's form. It had been nearly a year since the last one, why had it come back now? Suddenly he missed Cas, so badly it almost hurt. As strange as those dreams were, at least Castiel was his friend.
"Dean!"
Cas? Dean opened his eyes; the voice was distant, hidden somewhere in the smoke. "Cas!" he called back frantically. This was different. Nothing about this dream ever changed, yet there he was, this persistent figment of imagination, calling Dean's name again.
The stranger in Sam's form looked surprised. The blackness around them began to writhe all the more fiercely, as though responding to his mood. His eyes narrowed and he waved a hand distractedly towards the smoke. It pulsed and Dean heard a strange scream before it disappeared. There were chains around Dean's wrists that extended into the floor, an old, rotting floor that belonged to a broken down building Dean had never seen before. A glance out a nearby window told him it was several stories high. The sky outside was dark with gray rain clouds, threatening to soak the people Dean could see going about their day on the street below. Everything seemed...normal. It frightened Dean far more than the black smoke had. At least that had seemed like just a nightmare his mind had concocted, no matter how much it repeated itself. This...this felt too much like reality.
"Cas!" Dean abruptly called again. The man that looked like Sam turned to stare at him sharply but Dean only glared defiantly at him.
"Enough of this," he snarled suddenly. His hand snapped out towards Dean but before the man could so much as steal himself for any kind of pain a bright, bluish white light flooded the room. The man in Sam's form dropped his hand, his eyes widening with surprise as he looked upon a man Dean couldn't see through the light.
When the light finally began to recede Dean saw Cas standing in front of the window. His eyes were narrow with anger, his breathing as harsh as though he'd been running a long time. His fists were clenched, his legs spread in a stance that said he was prepared to fight, and stretching out from his back were two white wings. They seemed to fill the room, reflecting the glow shining from Castiel's body so that they appeared so blindingly pure Dean found it hard to look at them. Wings...why did Cas have wings?
The stranger in Sam's form smiled again, a bizarre mix of contempt and softness. "Can you use those wings, little Cherub?" he asked with a cold laugh.
Castiel smirked, an expression Dean thought looked strangely wrong on his face. "I can here!"
The glow filled the room again, so bright that Dean cried out and threw his hands up to cover his face, hardly noticing that the chains had fallen away from his wrists. He heard the man in Sam's form scream, with Sammy's voice, nearly driving Dean to risk the light to run to his brother's aid. He heard Cas calling out to him again but it was distant and faint. When he let his hands fall from his eyes the light was gone, as well as the building, the city, everything. There was only darkness and Castiel's rapidly shrinking form in the distance. He was waking up.
"Dean!" Castiel reached for him, his eyes wide and desperate. "Dean! I am not your imagination! I'm real!"
... * ...
I have to tell you, looking up strip clubs in Lawrence felt so very weird. lol. ^_^. There are a lot of them, too. I found this site with reviews for all these clubs in and around Lawrence and went through and read them until I found one that seemed to work best. I changed the name a little just because I wasn't sure if that would be a big deal or not. Probably not, but better safe than sorry. ^_^. Since I left this on a cliff hanger I'll try to update quickly. It just seemed like such a perfect place to end it. Hope you're still enjoying!
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The Keys to Destiny