Disclaimer: As always, I don't own anything in regards to "Supernatural." It's all Mr. Kripke's.

I have no idea where this came from, but if I had to hazard a guess it's probably because I'm missing a non-demon female presence in the "Supernatural" world. (Poor Ellen and Jo.)

Thanks for dropping in and please leave a review! : )

The road stretched before them, endless and car-less. Just the way Dean liked it. The comforting rumble of the Impala's engine thrummed beneath the driving baseline of an ACDC song. Flat, green fields flanked each side of the flawless blacktop, the road melting with the sky on the distant, unreachable horizon.

Dean glanced at his younger brother. Sam was sitting in the passenger seat, a contented smile gracing his features as the warm summer breeze ruffled his hair. After all they had been through, they deserved this carefree time. It was nice to simply be. Dean grinned to himself, returning his eyes to the road, basking in the calmness of the day. Then, he looked in the rearview mirror.

"Fuck, Cass!" He cried, jerking the wheel. The Impala swerved sharply into the other lane before Dean had the chance to correct their course.

"Hello Dean. Sam."

Dean glared at the angel who still inhabited a body that had, once upon a time, belonged to a man named Jimmy Novak. "Won't you ever learn to knock? You're gonna give me a fucking heart attack one of these days."

The angel tilted his head in confusion as he gazed at the elder Winchester, "Why would I knock when entering an automobile?"

"He's got you there," Sam said smirking at his brother before turning to Castiel, "So, where have you been? It feels like forever since we saw you last."

"I have been busy."

"Oh? How'd it go?" Dean asked, in a bored tone.

"How did what go?"

"Whatever you were doing, Private Pyle."

The reference only served to furrow the angel's brow further, causing him to pause before answering the question. "It's not finished, Dean."

"Then, why are you here?"

"I need your help."

"What?" Sam groaned in disbelief.

"Hey, hey, hey! We're taking a little time off. You know, a little R and R. We were told everything had calmed down!"

Castiel glared at the back of Dean's head, "Well, I'm telling you different."

"And, what is this all important mission?"

"It's your daughter, Dean."

The elder Winchester slammed on the brakes, coming to an abrupt halt in the middle of the empty road. Throwing the Impala into park, he turned to stare at Castiel.

"My what?"

"Your daughter is threatened. The Winchester line is..."

"I don't have a kid, Cass," Dean said, as he shoved Sam, who was beginning to laugh at him, "Have you ever seen any babies crawling around here?"

"I do not believe a twenty-two year-old would be crawl-"

"Twenty-two?" Dean yelled, "What the hell, man? I'd have been like ten-"

"Twelve," Sam interjected.

"Whatever!"

Castiel gave a long suffering sigh, "She is not from this time."

"You couldn't have said that before?"

"You have not let me finish a sentence."

Dean swallowed a few expletives as he crossed his arms and turned back around, "Alright."

"She was sent here for protection. Her original time was no longer safe. I am not certain who or what is after her, but the Winchester bloodline is an...important one. The list of possible suspects is long and varied."

"Did you time warp her?"

"No. Another of my brothers was assigned to her."

"Then, why isn't he protecting her?"

"He's dead," Castiel replied, an edge to his voice.

Dean found himself digging his fingers into his temples. He felt a massive headache coming on. The whole situation was ridiculous. If either of them was ever supposed to be a parent, it would be Sam. He was the loving, caring and all-around girly type. Dean was well...

"I know this is a shock," Castiel said, impatience bleeding into his tone, "but we need to move."

Dean paused a moment longer, then shifted the Impala into drive. "Where to?"

"Damn car," Constance said, thwacking the dashboard in a vain attempt to get the heat working.

"You shouldn't be so hard on it. I'm surprised this heap actually made it the whole five blocks over here."

She gave her sarcastic passenger a half-hearted glare then laughed, "Yeah, well... Don't expect me or my heap to come pick your butt up after your shift."

"I can walk. I'll even bring you some coffee for when I find you stranded and freezing between here and home."

"Get out," Constance said, playfully shoving the other girl out the door then pulling away.

She was grateful there were only five blocks between the campus bookstore and the house they rented with two other girls. Constance was completely bushed. She had taken four finals today, ending what had been a Hellish week. Finally, winter break had arrived and the first thing Constance planned to do was sleep for at least two days, then maybe take a nap.

Parking on the street in front of the two-story brick colonial, Constance quickly made her way to the door. She zipped up her coat on the way, the freezing air biting at any and all exposed skin. The house was dark, as expected. Amanda and Jen had already left for home. She rooted around in her purse for her house keys, cursing when inconveniently gloved fingers dropped them. A small eternity later found Constance stepping into the house, shutting the cursed door behind her.

Constance managed only to turn on the light and begin removing her red and purple scarf when something struck the side of her face. She toppled over, unprepared for the sudden impact. Trying to figure out what could have possibly fell from the ceiling, Constance looked up.

"Amanda?"

The tall girl grinned, a strange and unfamiliar high-pitched laugh issuing from her throat. Constance looked to her roommate's hand and saw one of the crying clown bookends they had bought Jen as a gag gift on her last birthday. She could only see part of the ridiculous statue's face; the rest was covered in blood.