A/N: Welcome to the dark, twisted world that is my imagination. I've always loved Supernatural, even though the first two seasons scared the ever living daylights right out of me. The episode "Bugs". *shudders* My worst nightmare come true. However, the show captured my heart and I've been following it faithfully. This story has gone through a lot, and I mean a lot of revisions over the years. And it's only now that I've decided to post it. So, I hope you enjoy it. Feedback is always welcome. However, if you don't like the story, don't read it. I'm looking to improve myself as a writer and negativity never helps. But, I do welcome constructive criticism. Well, enough of my blabbing, I'll let you get to the story. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with Supernatural. I only own the OCs.

Red Rock, Virginia

The cool night air was filled with the struggling cries of a dying cow. Mark Tohley stood watch outside the barn, his finger tapping impatiently against his gun. What was taking her so long? With all that noise, someone was going to come snooping around. Finally, the death cries stopped and all fell silent. Mark looked over his shoulder to see a woman with short, dark blonde hair and a satchel hanging over her shoulder walk out of the barn. She twisted the cap of a large travel mug as she walked. Mark glanced around the dark farm. A light had turned on in the house that hadn't been on before. No doubt the farmer was up and about to check on his livestock.

The woman stepped up, shoving the travel mug into the satchel. Mark could hear other travel mugs clink against each other inside the bag. The woman looked up at him, her green eyes glowing in the moonlight. Mark holstered his gun and they made their way off the farm land and down the long drive to where a plain wrap, black sedan was parked, hidden by the trees.

"Did you get enough?" Mark asked as they climbed into the car.

"This will do me for another little while," the woman replied, pulling on her seat belt.

Mark shook his head as he started the car. "These late night cravings of yours have got to stop, Ireland," he muttered, pulling away from the farm.

Ireland O'Conner ran her hand over the satchel and sighed. "I could be bleeding humans dry, if that's what you would prefer," she told him.

Mark shuddered. "No, thank you," he said. "I like my partner. I need my partner. I just don't want to explain to the Director that my partner drinks blood."

Ireland chuckled. "Then, don't," she told him. "It's as simple as that."

She opened the satchel and pulled out a travel mug. Opening the top, she took a long drink. Mark glanced over at her when she sighed in satisfaction.

"Are you happy?" he asked.

"Very," Ireland answered. "Thanks, Mark."

"When you crave something, you crave something," Mark stated. "I'd much rather have you butcher a cow than a person."

Ireland rolled her eyes. "You know very well I don't drink human blood, Mark."

"I thought you were a vampire."

"A dhampyre, Tohley. Not a vampire," Ireland corrected him.

"What's the difference?" Mark asked.

"I can't turn people," Ireland told him. "And I can also eat human food. I just...prefer blood."

She took another sip from her mug. Mark nodded slowly.

"So, you're vegetarian. Of sorts," he said.

Ireland thought for a moment before shrugging. "I suppose," she agreed, taking another sip.

Mark smiled and shook his head. He glanced in the rear view mirror for a split second, but did a double take when he thought he saw a shadowy figure behind the car. However, when he blinked the figure was gone. Mark rubbed his eyes. He was probably just tired and seeing things. He turned up the heat and settled in for the long drive back to D.C. Mark chanced a peek over at Ireland, who was sound asleep in the passenger's seat. He smiled and turned his attention back to the road.

It had been six years since he had first met Ireland. He had been a bit apprehensive about having her as a partner at first. She had been secretive, calculating; choosing her words carefully as if she was hiding something. Mark had stumbled upon her reasons for being such a way a year ago. She had disappeared during an investigation out in rural Maryland. They had been chasing down a suspect in the woods. Mark had heard terrified cries and had hurried off to find the source. When he arrived, however, he had found Ireland bent over a deer, her mouth to the animal's throat.

Naturally, he had freaked out. He had thought vampires were only stuff of myth and legend; existing only in books and movies. Ireland had assured him she wasn't going to hurt him, or had hurt any human. She had called herself a dhampyre, the child of a vampire and a human. Mark had had a hard time wrapping his mind around such a concept, but he couldn't leave her to wander around alone. So, he did what any partner would do. He kept an eye on her. Ireland would do her research and only feed off of animals that were meant for slaughter, and he would be her getaway driver.

Ireland stirred, mumbling something in her sleep. Keeping his eyes on the road, Mark reached back and pulled a blanket out of the backseat. He draped the blanket over Ireland to ward off the cold. She settled down and fell back to sleep. The drive back home couldn't end fast enough for Mark's liking. He hated driving at night. Since meeting Ireland, he had often wondered what other creatures existed. He now knew vampires were real, but what about ghosts? Or werewolves, for that matter? Anything was possible, he supposed. He just hoped the real monsters stayed where they always lurked. In the shadows.

Reviews are welcome, flames are not