A/N: The thing with this story is, it will follow the normal flow of things in the actual show, sometimes and I stress that. SOMETIMES. :] other than that, I'll be doing research on mythical creatures and winging it. But for now, enjoy SamxBlaine and the lovely Meg.


"The future is always beginning now." ~Mark Strand

Flipping another page in the black contact book Blaine lets out a frustrated sigh before taking a sip from the brown coffee cup in her right hand. Turning to the next page Blaine stops as a name pops out at her.

"Bobby Singer… Sioux Falls, South Dakota. Turns out that isn't very far from here." She mumbles as she looks over at the map that's draped across the seat of her red Suzuki sports bike.

Snapping the book shut she slips it and the map-after folding it up- into her travel bag. Sliding an arm through one of the straps she slides the travel bag over her blue Colts hoodie with ease. Securing the bag in place she throws her left leg over the seat of her bike. Sitting down she knocks back the rest of the coffee in the cup, which by now is cold. Tossing the cup into the trash can a few feet away she slips her gloves on then with a quick snap of her right heel, the kick stand which holds the bike up returns to its riding position. Sliding the visor of the helmet up she slips it on, making sure to secure the straps under her chin.

With that she turns the key in the ignition causing the bike to start up with such ease. Tapping the throttle some the bike revs up causing bystanders to turn and look. Easing off the brake the bike lurches forward carrying Blaine back towards the road that she had turned off of earlier. Checking to make sure nothing was coming from on either side she hits the throttle and shoots off onto the road, speeding off down I-90, heading for Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

Hitting speeds of almost a hundred or greater Blaine arrives in Sioux Falls in under two hours with plenty of daylight to spare. After stopping at a local gas station to ask directions to Bobby Singer's house she pulls back onto the road looking for a scrap yard.

Slowly riding down the road the cashier had directed her too Blaine looks back and forth, from one side to the other trying hard to find the salvage yard. A couple of miles on down the road a few hubcaps stand out to her, slowing down she comes to a stop right outside the gates of a very overused salvage yard. Looking up she takes notice of the name Singer on the sign hanging above the entrance.

Huffing some Blaine makes her way slowly into the salvage yard, following the pig like trail all the way in, until she comes to a stop in front of an older Victorian home that's been left to fall apart on the outside. Shutting her bike off Blaine takes in her surroundings, a parked wrecker sitting outside the house means he still does business. Scrapped cars and parts litter the ground, an old work shop sits off to the side with a half rebuilt car sitting in the open.

Before unclipping the strap under her chin Blaine lets the bike stand down with her foot, so that the bike wouldn't fall. Leaning the bike on the stand Blaine unclips the strap of the helmet she pulls it off slowly already guessing she has helmet hair. Placing the helmet on the front of her bike near the handlebars, Blaine slips off, readying herself to meet Bobby Singer.

"Freeze, right where you are. Place your hands in the air and slowly turn around." Someone says from behind you. Blaine slowly turns around, only to come face-to-face with the end of a double barrel shotgun. Green eyes flickering from the end of the gun to the man standing behind the gun.

"Who are you?" the man asks.

"Blaine Watson, are you Bobby Singer?" Blaine asks as she studies the man. Standing there holding the double barrel shotgun is a man with a clean cut head of hair, nicely trimmed beard, wearing an old truckers cap smudged with stains and clothes that are suited for a grease monkey. Along with an old brown vest that a man of his taste shouldn't own.

"Yeah, I'm Bobby Singer, what's it to ya?" he asks very impatiently.

"You… Uh, use to hunt with my father many moons ago. He might have mentioned me to you once or twice by the nickname of B.S. or Blay-Blay." Blaine replies with a steady voice while trying not to crack up at her own nickname.

"What's your father's name?" he asks, completely looking over the nicknames she gave him.

"Mitch Watson, was married to my mother Finley." Blaine replies. A look of friendliness washes over Bobby's face, lowering the shotgun he gives Blaine a once over before smiling.

"Well, I'll be. It's been forever since I've heard that name. What can I do for you?" he asks.

"To be completely honest," she says as she lets her arms fall to her side, "I found your name in an old contacts book of my fathers. Feeling up to it, I decided to you know, look you up."

Nodding some Bobby, motions for you to follow him into the house, "Well, why not come on in."

Letting out a long pent up sigh of relief, Blaine slides her gloves off and follows Bobby into his home, warm air engulfing her as she wanders farther in.

"You can have a seat in the living room, do you drink beer?" Bobby asks from a room or two over.

"Yeah, thanks." Blaine replies as she wanders into the living room where she finds stacks upon stacks of books lying around. She walks further into the room studying some of the stacks of books as she goes.

"So, where's your father now a days?" Bobby asks as he walks into the room. Turning around Blaine takes the beer from Bobby's hands as she sits down across from him.

"He uh… Passed away a few years back." Blaine replies while keeping her green eyes downcast.

"Mm, was it something to do with the job or something else?" Bobby asks as he takes a swig from his beer bottle.

Bringing the bottle up to her lips she tips it back allowing some of the contents to slide down her throat before replying, "Since you're a hunter and you know about these things, it was a Rakshasa, you know a shapeshifter that feeds off of human flesh. Nasty buggers those things are."

"I've heard of 'em. Terribly sorry for your loss, so besides the fact that you're looking up old contacts what brings you here?" Bobby asks nonchalantly.

"I have no ties left back home. I love the south, believe me I do, but when all you get are ghosts you get bored rather quickly." She replies before taking another swig from the bottle.

"So you picked up where your father left off?" he asks, just as a dog starts barking right outside of the window. Glancing at you Bobby quickly sits his beer bottle down on the side table and picks up the shotgun he had just recently used on you.

Setting yours down quietly you hear a car cut off outside the house. Quickly yet quietly Bobby stands up and moves towards the door preparing for the worst.

"Dean, you'd better hope the owner of that bike isn't inside the house." an unfamiliar voice says as they make their way towards the front door.

At those words Blaine's eyes widen, "Oh they had better not have."

"Sam… Dean… What are you two boys doing here?" Bobby asks from the door.

"We actually need your help Bobby." one of the boys replies as Blaine attempts to find a window where she can see what they did to her bike.

Stomping over to a window in the room closest to the living room Blaine grabs the curtain and yanks it back to find her red Suzuki motor bike on its side. Spluttering Blaine rushes back into the other room only to come face-to-face with two men and Bobby. .

"W-who did that to my bike?" Blaine asks, attempting to control her anger.

"I did and who the hell are you?" the shorter one asks, his mask of worry, anger and other emotions never wavering.

"Easy now, if anything is wrong with your bike I'll fix it. Blaine this is Sam and Dean Winchester, your father did some hunting with him as well." Bobby says calmly.

"Uh, hi." The taller of the two says.

Nodding Blaine slowly reaches out for the beer bottle that she wanted to empty and empty sooner rather than later. The air between the three of them remains heavy until Bobby returns with two flasks.

"This should help." Bobby says as he hands them to the shorter one, which Blaine figured to be Dean.

"What is this, holy water?" Dean asks while studying the flask that Bobby handed him.

"That one is, this one is whiskey." Bobby replies with a chuckle, causing Blaine to smile some herself as she watches both of them take a swig from the flask. Blaine remains silent as she sits off to the side wondering what the two boys could want here. There was Dean, throwing back whiskey while Sam sat behind the desk on the other side of the room flipping through one of Bobby's books.

"Thanks for everything Bobby. To tell you the truth, I wasn't sure if we should have come." Dean says.

"Nonsense, your daddy needs help. That's sort of the reason Blaine is here as well, sort of." Bobby replies.

"Yeah well, last time we saw you, you did threaten to fill him with buckshot." Dean states causing a slight laugh to bubble from Blaine's lips, earning looks from all of them.

"What? It's funny considering that's exactly what I want to do you right now." Blaine says with a smile gracing her face.

"Look, I'm sorry… For you know, knocking your bike over." Dean mutters out.

"It's fine, mind if I ask what you two are up to?" Blaine asks as she sits up wanting in on the scoop.

"Our dad is in a bit of trouble and he's being held hostage." Sam replies as he looks up from the book he's searching through.

Nodding Blaine shifts around some in her chair, "Ah… If there's anything I could do to help, I'm in the area for a while."

"Thanks." Sam replies with somewhat of a smile ghosting over his face.

"All that matters right now is that you get him back." Bobby adds on.

"Bobby, this book… I've never seen anything like it." Sam says, grabbing Bobby and Blaine's attention.

"Key of Solomon? It's the real deal, all right." Bobby says as he walks over to the desk.

"And these… These protective circles, they really work?" Sam asks while looking at Bobby.

"They do, I've seen them in action a couple of time down near New Orleans. Pretty handy when you're dealing with demons," Blaine replies, taking them all three by surprise, "I know my way around this sort of stuff all right?"

"I'll tell you something else too. This is some serious crap you've boys have stepped in." Bobby says as Dean walks over. Blaine becomes curious and decides to follow suit, forcing herself up and out of the comfortable chair and over to the desk.

"Oh yeah? How's that?" Sam asks as she walks up.

"In a normal year, I hear of say, maybe three demonic possessions." Bobby replies.

"Depending of course on what region your speaking of. The northern part of the US, you don't really hear of many, but in the southern, if you're in the right area, you'll get about a handful." Blaine chimes in.

"She knows her stuff." Dean replies in a sarcastic manner.

"Blaine is right, but this year I've heard of twenty-seven. So far. More and more demons are walking amongst us." Bobby says.

"Do you know why?" Sam asks.

"No. But I know something big is going to happen. Storms' coming and you boys and your daddy, are right in the middle of it," Bobby replies, just as the dog outside starts barking once more, "Rumsfeld."

Bobby rushes over to the window to check on his dog before looking back at them, "Something's wrong."

Not even thirty seconds after that the door's kicked in by a young woman with short cropped blond hair.

"Well… My day just seems to be filled with surprises." Blaine states with sarcasm dripping with each word.

"It is said that the present is pregnant with the future". ~Voltaire