Sam uses their time apart to indulge in his nightly beauty regimen. Sadly, he doesn't get as far as his coconut oil hair pack before he hears a scratching at the door. Does he look out the window? Does he grab a gun or knife? No, he just opens up the door to whatever demon might be waiting. Luckily for him, it's the Doberman from earlier.
The dog bounds into the room over Sam's protests and hops up onto the bed. "Are you friendly?" Sam asks. The dog licks his hand and rolls over onto her back by way of answering. "Oh, really. You want a belly scratch?" Sam is more than happy to oblige. He checks her red, rhinestone-studded collar, but finds no identifying tags. Sam panics when he hears the Impala rumbling to a stop outside the room. The dog whimpers. Sam rushes outside to greet Dean and head off any trouble. He closes the door behind him, blocking it with his gargantuan form. "Before you get pissed off, I just want you to know this isn't my fault," he says. He acts like Dean is going to beat him to death, when big bro only got mildly annoyed at finding a dog had been riding around inside Baby for a year. Sam goes on: "She just showed up at the door, didn't track in any mud, just wanted her belly scratched." Dean is staring at him like baby bro's done lost his mind, but says nothing. "I figured maybe she could stay here tonight," Sam says, "and we'd try to find her home tomorrow?" He opens the door behind him. Sexy music plays. Where there had been a Doberman, there is now a very pretty young black woman wearing stiletto heels, a skintight dress and... that red collar. Dean sees her, thinks it over and announces, "She can stay the night!" If he thinks it's odd for his brother to have been talking about a woman that way, he certainly gives no sign. Also, is he envisioning some kind of threesome scenario? Because if he is, he seems totally game.
When Sam turns around to tell the dog the good news he sees what his brother's been seeing. "Two seconds ago, she was a dog," Sam breathes. He rushes back into the room with a knife at the ready. "I'm not a shapeshifter, so you can stash the blade," she says. "I'm a familiar." Dean makes a stupid face and goes, "A what?" Perhaps it's because his blood has temporarily deserted his brain, but just last week he was supposed to be a "genius" at lore. This week, it's Studious Sammy who has to step in and explain that a familiar is a companion to a witch. "Some witches," he amends. "They split their time between human and animal form." The familiar leans forward, practically spilling out of the top of her dress and ensuring that Dean won't regain his smarts for a while. "I get a more accurate read on people in my other persona," she says. "Approaching guys in a motel room like this? Well, it gets complicated." After some thinking, I've come to the conclusion that she means men would assume she's a hooker. That could probably be cleared up by declaring, "I'm not a hooker," but whatever. The show wanted this contrived scene for its promos, so here we are.