in all the years dean has broken into people’s homes, this is most probably the most justifiable one he’s done, in his opinion. though he has nothing against the man’s family in particular, it’s the head of the household - mr. kimball as he’s known - that he holds a rising contempt for. he’s definitely a man of power, and wealth, and corruption. he’s a greedy corporate giant who has a penchant for selling ( sometimes cursed ) supernatural items to less than morally fantastic people. not to mention the whole mafia business.
not that he - dean - is such a saint himself, breaking and entering into someone’s overly decorative and expensive home. but to be fair - the man had it coming. if he didn’t want a man like dean to fuck his whole parade up then perhaps he shouldn’t be mongering stolen items and getting into the messy business of the supernatural and yes, that includes the people involved in it, because that could cost you your life.
and that’s exactly what mr. kimball has coming his way if he doesn’t watch his fucking step.
so far, his mental checklist goes as this: over the gate? check. security disabled? check. area scouted once more for good measure, as to avoid any unexpected surprises? check. without hiding the small smile he has on his face, dean traverses through yards of neatly trimmed grass and an outstanding ‘backyard’ so he can spot what he’s looking for - the sun room.
there’s not much to see through the curtains, which are sheer, slightly see through, and possibly one of those five million count egyptian cotton thread that rich people love to buy - or is that satin? silk? god if he knows what it is, but he’s about to ruin it.
with his gloved fingers curled into a fist, he breaks glass and fits his hand through the jagged spikes to fiddle with the flimsy lock. a grunt escapes him as he fights with it, wringing it to loosen and disengage, until it unhinges from it’s socket and clatters to the floor in an unceremonious fashion. he swears, why invest in such a high security system, without giving the same consideration to the locks? anybody could break in and enter if they really wanted too. if they first had the skills to get through all the rest. he’s not trying to brag but, okay, yeah, he is.
pushing the door open, he steps inside. bits of tiny glass crunch beneath his boots and he can see his shadow illuminated by the moon peering in.“ jesus christ, who needs a sun room? “ it’s said barely above a whisper until the criminal that he is realizes there’s no need to whisper. he’s alone. mr. kimball spends more time away from home than he does at home, so finding the ‘right’ time never posed a problem - it was covering all of his bases, gathering information, and following the patterns of autumn’s day-to-day life and when she’d be absent from her home as well, that had taken all the time it did.
he did have to admit there were quite a few perks in pretending to be someone you weren’t. the little ‘ gala ‘ the kimball’s daughter ( though he suspects her father had just given her the reins in orchestrating the overall presentation of it ) had lead to him speaking with quite a few gorgeous woman, including said daughter. how lucky could one guy get? she was sweet as sunshine, with a color to her hair he had to wonder if it were natural or not, and without knowing his plans or intentions, unknowingly helped him as he had needed.
not wanting to be side-tracked, dean puts his attention back to the matter at hand - he’s in. now, he just needs to find mr. kimball’s room.
