Night Prowler

by astridloker

Each chapter in this series follows Sam and Dean on original hunts from Season 1 to 9. Rated M for sexual content and graphic violence. Follows existing canon. Sam and Dean go to San Diego, where reports of healthy women falling into comas have made the news. They end up collaborating with one of the victims, who gradually undergoes a major lifestyle change to become a hunter.

1. Night Prowler

Night Prowler | 79

Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction using characters from CW's Supernatural. I am not affiliated with CW nor do I claim ownership of any part of Supernatural. The story I tell here is my own invention, and it is not purported to be canon.

Song credits: AC DC - Night Prowler, Beach Boys - California Girls

Note: Andrea is an original character, obviously not the same Andrea featured in Season 1 Episode 3 'Dead in the water'. Chapter 1 takes place in Season 1 sometime after episode 14, before episode 16, probably in May 2006.

Warning: Contains sexually explicit content.

Supernatural

Chapter 1

"Night Prowler"

Dean entered the motel room with a brown bag stained with oil in the corners and set it down on the table beside Sam's laptop. "Find anything yet, Sammy? It's been a week since we've gotten any hits. It's not like evil takes vacations. There's gotta be something."

"Actually, I did," Sam answered, turning his laptop to face him. He opened the bag and pulled out a burger dripping grease from its paper sheathe and made a face at Dean. He'd asked for Subway or some other less artery-clogging alternative.

Dean caught the look, "Hey, this is a small town. They don't have much to choose from. And their burgers are good. You'll thank me later."

"This might not be up our alley, but it made the news," Sam said, nodding to the laptop. "The doctor says it's some kind of medical anomaly. Healthy people are falling into comas out of the blue, dropping like flies. There are already four in the hospital after four days. And the reporter says they suspect some kind of drug use, but drug screens came up clean." He bit into the sandwich, holding it over the paper bag so it didn't drip grease in his lap.

"This sounds familiar," Dean said, raising his eyebrows. "Think it's another shtriga hunt?"

Sam answered mid chew, "Not children."

"Let's check it out," Dean agreed, eager to be on the move again. He looked at Sam, "Oh, you spilled some sauce on your shirt." Sam inspected himself, and Dean flipped his nose up with his finger and chuckled. "C'mon, Sammy, oldest trick in the book."

Sam fixed him with an unamused look and took another bite of his burger before dropping the remainder back in the bag. "We're going to California."

"That's pretty far out of the way. But maybe we'll find you a nice blonde," Dean grinned and packed his bag, then followed Sam out to the car.

"Can you wait until after we finish the job before picking up on girls?" Sam asked, taking his seat on the passenger side.

Dean shrugged and smirked, "We'll see what happens. Wouldn't want to pass up a golden opportunity." He started humming 'California Girls' by the Beach Boys.

Sam rolled his eyes. He knew what that meant. They made their way from Arizona to San Diego in one six-hour leg. Sam fell asleep on the ride, and as Dean pulled into a cheap, independently run motel, he hit the brakes hard, jarring Sam awake.

"That is NOT funny," Sam chastised, sitting upright.

"It's a little funny," Dean grinned. "We're here."

"I can tell you've been bored the last week. You're like a dog not getting enough exercise, you start chewing on the furniture," Sam said, stepping out of the car and walking around to the trunk.

"If by chewing on the furniture, you mean kicking the ass of all kinds of evil entities... then, yes, I'm like a dog without enough exercise. But one of those big awesome dogs. Like a German shepherd, not a poodle or a yorkie," Dean said, opening the trunk to retrieve their overnight bags.

"What about a labradoodle?" Sam asked.

Dean looked at Sam and opened his mouth to speak but paused, "What the hell is a labradoodle, and how do you know it?"

"It's a lab crossed with a poodle. I saw one at the park the other day."

Dean shook his head, closing the trunk, "You need to get laid."

They checked into the motel and settled into their room. It was reminiscent of the sixties; the walls were wood paneled with dusty, sun bleached classic movie posters nailed to them in glass frames. The floor was an aquamarine stained gray from foot tracks, and the bedding was a browned goldenrod. There was a partition of vertical wooden slats separating the bedroom from the bathroom door, and against the wall opposite the two twin size beds were a wooden dresser with an old tube television set and a round table with two chairs.

"Let's start at the hospital," Sam said, changing into his suit.

Dean nodded, "FBI, detectives, reporters or CDC?"

"CDC," Sam answered, opening his laptop to retrieve directions to the hospital mentioned in the article.

They drove a few miles downtown and pulled into the underground parking garage, finding a spot in back. Sam handed Dean his CDC badge from the glove compartment and clipped his own to his suit. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and tried to comb his hair back with his hand. "Damn it, I have a cowlick from sleeping on my side."

"You look fine," Dean said without looking at him.

They walked across the garage to the elevator and stepped inside with a nurse, all the while Sam trying to smooth his hair down. The nurse, a young, plump dark-haired woman in bright pink scrubs, looked up at them with a smile as she looked at their ID's. Sam returned the smile, clearing his throat as he tucked his hair behind his ear.

"Excuse me," Dean started, giving Sam a look before smiling at the nurse, "We're with the CDC. Would you mind telling us what floor you keep your patients with 'mysterious illnesses' on?" He noticed Sam give him a look and shrugged when the nurse looked away from him.

"Oh, you're looking for the seventh floor," she answered and reached across Sam to press the button for them.

"Thanks," Sam smiled. He stepped off the elevator first when it stopped at seven and walked over to the counter. He approached the desk, and the secretary looked up at him. "Hi, we're with the CDC. We're investigating the comatose patients in case we need to issue an alert."

The nurse checked his badge. "I'll get Doctor Rogers immediately," she said, picking up the phone to call the doctor. "There are two men from the CDC here to speak with you... uh huh... okay." She hung up. "He's on his way."

Dean leaned against the counter, flashing her a smile, "Do you mind if we take a look around?" He looked down the hall, "The patients are this way?"

"Go ahead," the secretary smiled back. "I hope you two can give us some insight on this." She leaned forward, speaking low, "Because between you and me? I'm about ready to use up all my vacation time just to get the hell out of here until this blows over."

Sam raised an eyebrow and nodded, "We'll try to get it sorted out."

Dean walked with Sam, bringing out his notepad to take down names as they walked by the rooms. He noticed a distraught looking woman sitting outside one of the rooms. "You want to take this one?"

"Sure," Sam answered, a little surprised Dean would pass up the opportunity to talk to a young woman. Maybe it was because she was such a mess. Sam walked over to the woman, and with his best bedside manner voice, asked softly, "Excuse me... miss?" He offered her a tissue. He always kept a travel pack of tissues with him on visits to hospitals or funeral homes.

The young woman looked up at him and took the tissue, wiping her eyes. She forced a smile at his kind gesture, "Thank you." She eyed his badge but didn't say anything.

"My name is Sam," he said, taking a seat beside her. "I'm with the CDC. Would it be okay if I ask you a couple questions?"

The woman nodded with a sniffle, looking into the room where her girlfriend lay. "Ask away. Anything to help Rebecca."

Sam took out his notepad and pen. "Did you notice anything unusual during the weeks leading up to Rebecca falling ill? Or even just the last couple days?" He added gently, "Anything at all, no matter how strange it might seem."

The young woman was quiet for a moment, thinking, then she answered, "There wasn't anything strange for the weeks leading up to this... but the last few days she's been a little off." She blew her nose into the tissue. "She came home from kickboxing and everything seemed normal. We ate dinner, watched a movie and then went to bed. She's an early riser." She smiled sadly thinking about it, "She always wakes me up in the morning, but that first morning, she didn't come knocking. In fact she hadn't gotten out of bed at all... She looked like she was drained, kinda like when you have the flu. But her temperature was fine. She said she was just tired. She stayed in bed all day and only got out of bed for dinner. She did mention having strange dreams but wouldn't tell me exactly what of... I'm sure it's unrelated. Probably stuff brought on by this sickness. The next morning, I-" she started crying. "I couldn't wake her up."

Sam nodded understandingly, "She didn't say anything about the dreams or what made them strange?" The woman shook her head, and Sam handed her another tissue. "Thanks. I don't think any information is irrelevant. You mentioned a kickboxing class. Is that the last place she went before it happened?"

"Yes," the woman sniffled and dug through her purse, then handed him a business card for the kickboxing studio. "Rebecca gave it to me. She was trying to get me to join up. She went to class every Monday and Wednesday at 7 p.m."

"Thanks," Sam said. 'Today is Wednesday,' he thought, 'Perfect.' He smiled at her, reassuringly, "I'll check it out. How have you been feeling though?"

"I don't think I caught whatever it is, I'm just... sad."

"I understand," Sam said, standing up. "Please, take care of yourself, and I'll try to get to the bottom of this."

Dr. Rogers put away a clipboard and looked up at Dean, "You're from the CDC? How can I help you, Mr...?"

"Agent Carlton," Dean said, showing him his badge. "My partner, Will, and I," he motioned to Sam down the hall, "were sent to investigate the recent trouble here and to see if an alert is needed to be issued. Do you have some time to answer a few questions?"

The doctor checked his watch, "I have a few minutes. I'm not sure what to tell you though. There is absolutely nothing physically wrong with them. They're all healthy young women, and the police have already investigated for foul play, in case they were poisoned, even though tests all came up clean." He sighed, "They haven't found a connection between them all yet either."

"So, this seems to only be affecting women," he said, scribbling a note down in his pad, "Are you sure there's no connection at all? Maybe they all work within spitting distance of a radioactive plant?"

The doctor gave him a look that said he was not amused. "There doesn't appear to be a pattern to where they live. They're spread out around the city. Two of them are students at the University, but the police are investigating that avenue now."

"Uh huh," Dean wrote it down. "Thanks for your time. We'll be in touch." He shook his hand and walked back over to Sam.

"Any leads?" Sam asked, pressing the down button for the elevator.

"They're all healthy young women. But he did say more than one of them is a student at the University. How about you? Did you get anything from that girl?" Dean looked at him.

Sam smirked and held up a business card.

Dean gave him a mock look of disgust, "Sammy... taking advantage of a girl in a crisis?" He snatched the card and looked at it, "Oh, it's a business card for a kickboxing class. Young women, possibly tight clothes, kicking things? This job is turning out great."

Sam stepped into the elevator with him, "Let's start with the University, at least it connects two of the victims."

They walked back to the car and drove across town to the University.

"What do you want to play make believe as this time?" Dean asked, unclipping his CDC badge. "Police officers? Chicks dig a man with a badge."

"Yeah, I think it'll be easier to ask questions this way," Sam said, switching out badges from the glove compartment. He looked at Dean, "Didn't you have enough fun last week?"

"You ever see an American Bulldog, Sammy?"

Sam furrowed his brow, not sure where this was going. "Yeah."

"Picture a bunch of 'em but as humans. No, I didn't have any fun last week."

"You were looking in the wrong places then." Sam stepped out of the car and walked with Dean toward the dormitories, "We're not going to anyone's party this time."

"Aw, c'mon, Sammy. It's college. You gotta learn to live a little."

Sam gave him a look, "I went to college."

"You went to college, but did you actually have fun?" Dean challenged, snagging a campus map from one of the Help areas.

"Yeah, I did," Sam argued. "Look, this thing works fast. We need to hurry before more people end up in the hospital. One person a day is what it's been so far. That means tomorrow morning, if we drop by the hospital, we'll probably have a fifth victim."

Dean opened the map and trailed his finger over a building, "The girl's dorms are over here. Which means we have to go..." He looked around for a landmark and pointed to his right, "this way."

"Keep your hormones in check, okay?" Sam added.

"Me?" Dean looked at him, "You know I'm a professional." They walked up to the door and tried to open it. Locked.

"A resident has to let us in," Sam said.

A girl approached from behind them, and Dean flashed his badge, "Excuse me. Detective Osborne and Detective Butler."

Sam held up his badge, "We're investigating a student, Britney Daller."

"Did something happen to her?" the student asked.

"She's in the hospital," Sam answered.

"Oh, wow. Well, I didn't really know her. She was in with those bitches at Kappa Beta Pi. Never understood it... she was nice, not slutty."

"Slutty sorority girls?" Dean stopped himself from grinning and cleared his throat.

Sam asked, "Can you point us in the right direction? Also, do you know," he checked his notepad, "Janine Wiens?"

"She lives in the dorm here," the girl answered, unlocking the door for them. "She's on the third floor in room 305. Her roomie should be in."

Dean smiled, "Thanks. Mind giving us your contact information in case we have any more questions?"

"Sure." The girl gave him her name and cell number to scribble into his note pad. "Call me whenever you want... for any reason." She smiled and walked inside to her room on the first floor.

Sam held the door open and looked at Dean, "Did I miss something? You didn't even hit on her."

Dean grinned, "And I still got her number. You heard her 'whenever I want' and 'for any reason.' We'll cover more ground if we split up. Why don't you interview the roommate and I'll go take care of the sorority girls?"

Sam sighed, "Fine. Just don't get carried away."

Dean walked backwards with a grin, holding his hands up in a half shrug. "When do I ever get carried away?"

Sam shook his head, taking the stairs up to the third floor. He found 305 and knocked on the door.

A girl in skinny jeans and a lopsided sweater with a mismatched waist cinching belt answered the door. She wore a headband over her asymmetrical pixie cut and large horn rimmed glasses. She could only be described as a hipster. "Uh, can I help you?"

"Yeah, I'm Detective Butler, and I wanted to ask some questions about Janine. Do you mind if I come in?"

She shrugged and opened the door wider before walking back to her computer chair and plopping down into it. "I already told the cops that came here earlier: she wasn't sick, and I wasn't here that night. I was at a Republic of Letters concert and stayed over at my boyfriend's that night. When I came home and saw she was late for finals, I tried to wake her up. She wouldn't. I thought maybe she swallowed some sleeping pills or something, but she's not into that stuff."

"What do you mean 'not into that stuff'?"

"I mean, the only pills you'll find in her medicine cabinet are herbal remedies, like ginger pills and multivitamins. She's a health nut, doesn't believe in modern medicine."

"Alright, is there anything else about her life style that could attribute to her condition?"

The girl shrugged, swiveling back and forth in her chair, "She might have been anorexic."

"She didn't eat?"

"Only salads and fruit bars."

"Do you know if she has a schedule or if she was out the night before?"

The girl sighed, "She has yoga or pilates three days a week. She might have been there."

"Do you know where?"

She sighed again, turning her chair and typing up a name into google. "There."

"Thanks," Sam said, scribbling down the studio name and address. "Anything else?"

"No. She's been inside studying all week."

Sam tucked his notepad into his jacket. "Thanks for your time."

Dean looked up at the symbols on the sorority house, and to his left were a couple of girls sunbathing in bikinis. "God bless college girls." He walked up to the front door and rang the doorbell.

A voluptuous, blonde girl with straightened hair and a dark tan covered by lots of glittery makeup answered the door. She was in a sports bra and yoga shorts. She looked him up and down and smiled, "Hi there."

Dean returned the gesture and grinned, "Hi." He flashed his badge, "I was told that Britney is a member of this sorority. I was wondering if you could answer a few questions."

"Come on in," she said turning around to lead him inside. "I only have a few minutes before yoga." She looked over her shoulder at him, pleased to see his eyes drifting downward. She looked at two of her sorority sisters seated on the couch painting their toe nails. "Hands off, ladies. He's a cop." She mouthed, 'and he's mine.'

"Aww, but I like cops," the girl with her hair dyed a too-vibrant red smiled, "especially when there's handcuffs involved." She turned to the attractive Hispanic girl beside her and giggled.

"Yeah, me too. Don't be so selfish, Tammy."

Dean grinned, playing up the cop role. "Sorry ladies, I'm on duty. But I get to keep the handcuffs when I'm off." He turned back to Tammy as the two girls had themselves a giggle fit. "So, what can you tell me about Britney? Was she behaving oddly the week or so leading up to her hospitalization?"

"No, she was with me on Friday at our yoga class, and she was fine. We went out for drinks after, she got a little tipsy, but she was sober enough to drive. We watched a movie and went to bed." Tammy sat on the arm of the couch. "The next morning she didn't wake up. The rest of us have been fine. You don't think it's contagious, do you? We share the same room."

"No, probably not. If you feel fine, then I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"I feel better than fine." She smiled at him, watching as he scribbled notes into his notepad, "Hey, can I get you a drink? The girls were just about to make margaritas."

"No drinking on duty, but maybe we can work something out later," he said, giving her a wink. "Where do you two do yoga?"

"Last Friday we were at Get Bent. It's an indoor studio, but Saturdays we go to the beach and do yoga in our bikinis," she grinned.

"Hey, Tammy, shouldn't you get going?" one of the girls asked.

Tammy looked at the clock. "Yeah, I'm going to be late." She smiled at Dean as seductively as she could muster, "You should come with. You know... to ask more questions."

Sam knocked on the door that was left ajar to the sorority house before pushing it open. "Dean, we gotta go."

Dean looked over his shoulder at Sam, whispering through clenched teeth, ''Now? You couldn't wait a minute?"

Sam looked at him sternly, "Now."

Dean turned to Tammy and smiled, "You go ahead. I might just see you there." He waved at the girls on the couch, "See ya, ladies."

"Oh, wait..." Tammy dug around in her purse, but Dean and Sam left before she could stop them.

Sam held out his notepad for him, "Yoga studio, class is starting in ten minutes."

Dean could see the connection between the two girls, but his priorities were elsewhere at the moment. "We should come back here later, Sam. These girls are into me and there're three of them."

"Absolutely not."

"You're such a killjoy." Dean drove with Sam to the yoga studio and pulled up to the curb. "Pay the meter." He looked up at the colorful sign with a logo of a silhouette in a complicated pose, "Maybe we should sign up for a few classes?"

Sam raised an eyebrow, "You want to do yoga?"

"Who said anything about doing yoga?" he said, pushing the door open.

The yoga instructor looked them up and down, "You can't do yoga in those suits, gentlemen."

"Oh, we're actually just here to ask some questions," Sam replied.

"And observe," Dean said, taking a look behind him at the girls stretching.

Sam cleared his throat and raised his badge, then smiled cordially, "I'm Detective Watson, and this is Detective Gooch."

Dean's head whipped around. 'Oh, it's on,' he thought.

"Detectives? What kinds of questions would you have for me?"

"It's about one of your students," Dean answered.

"Two of your students," Sam corrected him.

"I can try to answer, but I probably won't be of much help," the instructor shook her head.

"What can you tell us about a Ms. Britney Daller?" Dean asked.

"Did she mention anything to you? Or behave oddly? Maybe she appeared more tired than usual?" Sam continued.

The instructor nodded, "Britney... she did seem to be tired, but I just figured it was school related."

"What about Janine Wiens?" Sam asked.

"I haven't seen her in a few days," the instructor shrugged. "But I didn't notice anything out of the ordinary."

"Is there anything else you can tell us?" Sam prodded.

The instructor paused, shaking her head, "No, not really."

"She didn't mention anything about ghosts or the devil?" Dean asked casually, then smirked and shrugged when the instructor gave him a confused look.

"You know what?" Sam smiled, "Never mind that. We're going to have a look around, but we promise not to interfere with your class as much as we can."

The instructor was still puzzled, "That's fine, detective." She walked to the front of the group and started the class while Dean and Sam moved to stand aside.

"There's something about yoga pants that just... mmph," Dean murmured, watching the girls.

"Try to control yourself. We're cops , remember?"

"Cops are human too."

A slender girl with reddish brown hair tied up in a ponytail sat on her yoga mat watching them as she sipped her coffee, wondering what business they had in the studio. She half heartedly joined in the beginning pose, tempted to just sit and drink her coffee for the duration of the class.

Tammy walked in, "Sorry I'm late." She spotted Dean standing across the room and grinned, setting her purse and mat down against the wall before walking over. "Detective, you ran off so fast earlier, you forgot something."

Dean smiled charmingly, "I don't think I could forget someone as pretty as you."

Tammy winked, "I'll take it that's why you're here." She pulled out a pen and took his hand, writing her number down on it with her name and a heart. "Call me. I'll be done here in an hour." She looked at Sam, "Huh, you're kinda cute too. I could set you up. Double date?"

Sam's mouth twitched in a smile, "No thanks."

"Ooh, you like to play hard to get. There's a party tonight if you guys aren't too busy." She grinned at Dean, "Bring him along. He'll enjoy himself whether he wants to or not."

Dean chuckled, "Don't let his super serious demeanor fool you. He's a downright party animal."

The girl sipping her coffee gave Sam a look, shaking her head at the floozy and rolling her eyes.

"Oh yeah?" Tammy grinned and winked, "When you show up, bring a bottle of whipped cream."

The girl stifled a laugh at that remark and snorted, then looked away, bringing her coffee cup back up to her mouth as she pretended to find something interesting to look at on the opposite wall. Tammy glared over her shoulder at her.

The instructor could see Tammy was distracting her class and the officers on duty. "Tammy, why don't you join the rest of us in the warrior position? The detectives are here to work." The instructor looked at the girl sipping her coffee, "You too, Andy. You don't pay for this class to sit around and watch."

Tammy turned to Dean and whispered, "We'll talk later, and I'll practice my downward dog with you." She took her mat at the front of the class.

Dean leaned over to Sam and whispered, "Totally not marriage material, but I think she knows that."

Sam whispered back, "Let's go. I don't think we're going to find anything here unless we scope the place out with the EMF reader after the class ends. We can come back later."

"Yeah, I don't know how we'd explain that one to the class. 'This is our special clue finder device.'"

Sam walked with Dean out to the car, "Well, that kickboxing class starts in about an hour. We could go check it out, but let's grab dinner first."

"Think we should try blending in on this one?" Dean asked. "Put the badges away and take a class?"

Sam shrugged, "Sure, why not?"

They went by a Subway on the way back to their motel. Sam grabbed a turkey club footlong and Dean chose a meatball marinara.

"Why do you always choose to eat the messiest foods?" Sam asked, unwrapping his sandwich at the table in their room.

"Messy food usually tastes better," Dean said, biting into the meatball sub.

"I just don't want your mess to find its way to my keyboard again."

"Relax. I won't touch your laptop til I wash my hands."

After eating, they changed into their casual clothes, then they drove out to the kickboxing class. "So, should we pretend we have no kickboxing experience?" Sam asked. "Or are you gonna show off to pick up girls?"

Dean smirked, "Let's fly this one under the radar." He walked inside and stepped up to the front desk where a tall, muscular middle-aged Hispanic man in a tight fitting T-shirt with the studio's logo on it stood. "Hi. My brother and I were looking to sign up for some classes." He added in a whisper, "He gets bullied a lot."

The guy looked back and forth between them, "Oh, well, the next class starts in 15 minutes." He handed them each a clipboard with some forms to fill out. "Your first three days are free of charge, just so you can decide if this is for you."

"Great, thanks," Sam smiled.

'Free, awesome,' Dean thought.

The man behind the desk continued, "The locker room is just straight in the back. We sell gym attire if you two need some."

Sam looked up, "T-shirt and jeans okay for the first day?"

"Not if you want to participate."

"Fair enough." Sam looked at Dean, "I guess we need to buy some gear then."

The man behind the desk motioned for them to follow him to the locker room, and Dean followed him while Sam stayed behind. Once they disappeared out of sight, he moved around the desk to leaf through the paperwork and look at memberships. He found a contract for one of the other girls in the hospital, Joyce. 'Two here and two at the yoga studio,' Sam thought. 'I wonder if either of them are University students.'

Andy, the girl from the yoga studio, came into the kickboxing class early, wearing a hoodie over her yoga attire and sipping a fresh cup of coffee. She recognized Sam and approached the desk, giving him a quizzical look. "Evening. Are you a new student?" She figured by his lack of suit that he was off duty.

"Uh, hi," Sam answered, putting the papers away and stepping out from behind the desk. "Yeah, I thought I'd try it out."

"Small world," she said, deciding not to jokingly ask if he was stalking her. "I'm Andy."

"Sam," he answered.

Dean came back out with a pair of shorts and handed them to Sam, "Get changed." He looked at Andy and smiled, "Hi."

She walked past him into the locker room without returning his greeting. The way she saw it, he was being a skeezball in the yoga studio before.

Sam grinned at Dean, who was obviously a little disappointed that didn't work.

"That doesn't usually happen," Dean said, checking his breath against his hand.

Sam smirked, "Maybe she just thinks you're a jerk."

Dean looked at him, "This class has sparring, Sammy. I held back that night that I went and got you."

Sam reminded him, "Thought you wanted to 'fly under the radar.'" He walked into the locker room to change out of his jeans.

While Sam changed, students started coming in and warming up. An older man dressed in a tank top and track pants waited at the front of the class. Despite the age his face showed, his body was fit and muscular. He spoke with the man from the front desk and nodded, looking over the new membership forms. When Sam came back out in his shorts, he stood beside Dean.

"Hello, everyone. I am Master Tong," he said, introducing himself to Sam and Dean. "We have a couple of new students joining us today," he motioned to Sam and Dean.

"Hey guys. Take it easy on us," Dean said, pointing at Sam, "him especially." Sam smiled and gave them an awkward wave.

Andy came back out of the locker room with her coffee and gloves. She looked over at Dean and Sam but looked away when Dean caught her glance.

"Let's do some warm ups and partner up," Master Tong instructed, then noticed Andy looking around. "Andy, Rebecca isn't here today. Maybe one of our two new students would like to be your partner."

Dean stepped forward before Sam could say anything, "Me, sir, I'm all fired up and ready to learn."

Andy sipped her coffee before setting it down, acting aloof, "Thanks."

Sam was not surprised Dean jumped at that opportunity, especially because he seemed to think he had to redeem himself.

A big black guy slapped Sam on the back, "I guess that makes you my partner, kid." He matched Sam in height but had probably twenty more pounds of muscle on him. He appeared young and fit but graying in his beard, giving away his age. "Don't worry, I won't hurtcha."

"Oh... okay, hi."

Master Tong handed Dean and Sam each a pair of gloves, "You can use these for now."

"We appreciate it," Dean said, taking the gloves.

"Thanks," Sam added.

"When you begin sparring, just remember this is not a real fight, and no hits to the head, okay?"

"Gotcha," Dean nodded, thinking, 'I wouldn't want to hurt that pretty face anyway.' "Good luck, buddy," Dean tapped Sam with his glove, then ditched him to stand near Andy.

"Stretches!" Master Tong instructed, demonstrating at the front of the class.

"Hey, I'm Dean."

"Andy," she answered, feeling jittery from all the caffeine she'd had in the last 24 hours. She took another sip before setting her cup down.

"Short for Andrea?" he asked.

"Andréa," she corrected the pronunciation, then looked over at Sam. "So, that's your partner?"

"That's Sammy. He's my little brother."

She raised her eyebrows, "What's that like, working together?"

"What?" Dean wasn't sure how she knew, then he remembered she thought they were detectives. "I thought you looked familiar. You were in that yoga class. You snorted."

She grinned, "Ha, you heard that, huh?"

"I could practically feel you rolling your eyes over there."

"It was a little ridiculous," she said in her defense.

"Sorority girls," Dean smiled and shrugged, "What can you do?" He hopped in place and shook out his arms before leaning forward and holding the backs of his calves as he stretched, copying the instructor. They followed the instructor's lead and went upright, taking a wide stance. "Let's help each other stretch."

"I was telling Sam it's a small world running into you two here after you were at my yoga class. What were you guys doing there, aside from gawking?" she asked.

"Official police detective stuff," he smirked. "And hey, I wasn't gawking, I was observing."

"Right," she nodded, unconvinced.

"We were working a case."

"Super top secret cop stuff?"

"Yeah, but you never know, I might have to grill you about it." He smiled, but he knew he really would have to. "So, you do both yoga and kickboxing."
"Yeah, yoga is a great for strength and core training, but kickboxing is great cardio and endurance," she said, stretching with him. "It's a good work out, I can learn how to properly kick some ass, and it's just a nice routine with nice people." She admitted, "Mostly I like feeling a little badass though. Like if someone broke into my apartment, I could defend myself, then hog tie 'em and call the cops." She smirked, "Or if some jerk doesn't respect me on a date, I can break his face." She realized what she just said, "I mean, uh..." She spoke monotonously as if speaking a vow, "I would never assault somebody."

"So, not only are you great looking, but you kick ass too," Dean said, reaching across his body and bringing his arm up across his opposite elbow, stretching his arms and back as she lay back, pulling her knees to her chest to stretch. He enjoyed the view.

"Thank you. But just so you know, that line's not gonna work on me."

"Then I guess I've got my work cut out for me, don't I?" he smirked and sat down on the mat with his legs spread, then reached out to hold each ankle.

"So, are you and your brother taking this class together as an excuse to beat the crap out of one another?"

"We don't need an excuse to beat the crap out of each other."

"Ha! I'm an only child, I only know what I've seen on TV about sibling rivalry."

"We could definitely have our own TV show. So, your partner is missing today? That's gotta be a real bummer."

"Oh, it's not so bad..." she paused and admitted, "I almost skipped today myself, but I don't let myself skip any classes unless I'm really sick. I'm just a little tired. Hence the 8 o'clock caffeine fix."

"Yeah, I noticed the shaky hands. Why so tired? You don't strike me as the stay up all night partying type."

She chuckled, "Oh, I'm not. I'm the stay in with a book and a bubble bath type." She wondered how lame that was and added, "Not that I'm a homebody. I work from home, but that's why I take all these classes, to get out. But I haven't slept well the last few days. I've been trying to adopt the polyphasic sleep pattern to see if it helps. A thirty minute nap every four hours." She shook her head, "It sucks."

"Just the last few days? What's disturbing your sleep?"

"Um..." she hesitated, "Bad dreams. Might be night terrors actually, which is weird because I've never had them before."

Master Tong shouted, "Andy, Bubba, teach your new partners some drills!"

Dean stood up, "So, I guess this is the part where you teach the poor newbie how to throw some face breaking punches."

"I get the feeling you're not that new to throwing punches."

Dean shrugged, "We get some basic training but nothing as fancy as this. Most of the time a flash of my gun and badge works fine anyway."

"Yeah, that makes sense," Andy said, glancing over at Sam and Bubba, then she burst out laughing. Bubba threw a kick against the shield Sam held up that sent him stumbling back. She covered her mouth. "I shouldn't have laughed. Sorry!" Sam heard her and looked over, giving an awkward smile, but he saw Dean with his shit eating grin and hoped he wouldn't show off.

Dean didn't want to make her laugh like that himself, so he said, "Why don't you show me some basic stuff. You wouldn't want to go embarrassing the newbie or anything."

"Okay, first you need to establish your stance." She took her muay thai stance. Dean copied her, purposefully standing awkward. "If you stand like that, you'll trip over your own feet. Space your feet apart wider and slide your left foot forward a little... There! You got it. Now raise your hands up like this." She raised her hands up so her right hand was at her cheek and her left was further out.

Dean followed her instructions. "Okay, now show me how you whoop ass."

"Basics first! They're the most important," she said and showed him how to throw jabs, hooks, straights, a right cross, and other basic moves. She held up her gloved hands, "I'll call out a punch and you'll hit whichever hand is raised, okay?"

"Sounds easy enough," he said, hitting her hands with soft punches as she called them out.

Andy teased, "Aw, is that all you got? Kitten paws hit harder than that."

Dean grinned and put a little more power into his right straight when she called it out.

"Something tells me you're holding back," she said, feeling the force of that hit through her arm.

"Just a little." He was holding back a lot.

"I'll show you some kicks, then I'll put on the training gear so you don't have to hold back," she said. She showed him how to throw some basic kicks to the legs and body. "Practice those while I go put on the padded gear."

Dean did as he was told, throwing punch combos with kicks as he waited for her. Master Tong noticed Dean using proper technique and timing with his combinations but remained quiet. He smacked Bubba on the arm when he threw a high roundhouse at Sam.

When Andy returned, she wore punching mitts and padding around her midsection. "Okay! Show me what you've got."

"If you say so," Dean said, giving her a look that said, 'You asked for it.' He assumed his stance and gave her a hard right hook to the punching mitt that almost spun her around.

"Whoa!" She steadied herself, "I wasn't ready for that." She motioned for him to continue with the mitts, "Throw some kicks in there too." She tapped her body protection with the focus mitt.

Dean began throwing hard, rapid combinations of punches, throwing in a hard body kick that sent Andy falling back.

"Oof!" she sat up on her elbows and eyed him.

Dean looked amused and tried to hide it when she looked at him, "Sorry, guess I don't know my own strength." He hooked his arms under hers and lifted her up.

"Suuure," she said, "Remember, you're next."

"Remember, no hits to the ol' noggin," he said, tapping his head with his glove. "I don't want a concussion my first day here."

"I wouldn't dream of it," she said, taking off the protective gear. "Let's change up." She helped him put on the body guard then slipped her gloves on.

"So, do I call out punches or do I just stand here and let you go to town on me?"

She smiled, "Just hold your hands up and I'll do combinations freely." She started throwing hard punches and kicked him in the side.

Dean didn't budge, "Ooh, I think I almost felt something."

Andy put more hip into her next kick and caused his body to move a little bit. "How about that?"

"Now who's the one holding back?"

She reached up and gripped him behind his head at the base, pulling him forward as she began kneeing his midsection. Dean was taken by surprise, "Whoa, whoa, whoa... you didn't cover this in the basic techniques."

She grinned and jumped, kneeing him in the chest as she let him go, "I know."

Dean was impressed, "What do you call whatever the hell you just did to me?"

"That's called the 'plum clinch.' You can use it to control someone and tire them out as they fight against you pulling on their neck."

Sam had watched and looked at Bubba, "Please don't do that to me." Bubba gave him a hearty chuckle.

Andy felt a yawn coming on and made a face as she tried to hold it back. She saw the instructor look away and turned her head to let out a half yawn, covering her mouth with a gloved hand.

Master Tong appeared behind her, "SIT UPS!"

Dean jumped, startled, and waited until the instructor walked away before asking, "Is Master Tong also a ninja?"

"Damn." She sat down on the floor and wiggled her toes at him, hinting for him to hold her feet. "You'd think so. I didn't think he'd catch me. He has a 'no yawning' policy." She started her sit ups when he held her feet for her.

"He's a regular Mr. Miyagi," Dean smirked, then looked up at the clock. "So, what are you doing after class?"

Andy was a little surprised by the question. "Nothing, why?"

"Can I take you out for a drink?" He gave her a charming smile for good measure.

Andy raised an eyebrow, "What about Tammy and her can of whipped cream?"

"You mean her bottle of whipped cream," he grinned like he just told an inside joke. She got it and smiled back. "I was just having fun flirting with her, I wasn't really interested."

Andy mulled it over, "Is her number still on your hand?"

Dean took off his mitts and showed her his hands, ink free. "I hate when a girl writes on your hand like that."

"Alright. How about dinner instead?" she suggested.

Dean nodded, "This workout has me in the mood for a steak. How does that sound to you?"

"I love steak."

"Do you know any good places?" he asked, remembering he was not familiar with the area.

"Sure. There's a place nearby-"

"Good job tonight, class!" Master Tong announced. "See you next week!"

"I'll be right back." Andy stood up and returned to the locker room to retrieve her things and write down her number and address.

"Good job, newbie," Bubba patted Sam's glove. "See you in a couple days."

"Thanks," Sam smiled back and walked over to Dean. "Did you get any information?"

"We're going to dinner," he grinned. "Don't worry, I'm working the case." He gave him a light hit on one of the areas Bubba had hit him hard.

Sam flinched a little, "She's giving you the time of day? I thought she didn't like you."

"That was before she talked to me. What's that saying? You catch more flies with honey than vinegar?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't really apply to the situation."

"Shut up."

"Well, Bubba didn't know anything about the comas. But Andy's partner is in a coma, and she's the link between all of them. She could be a witch. So be careful."

"Andy mentioned she was feeling tired and losing sleep herself. So, it's possible, but it seems like she's a target too. I'll find out if she attends the university. Ask about the other two."

"Right, what was her name... Joyce, I think." Sam walked over to Master Tong to question him.

Andy walked back out with her things and handed Dean a slip of paper. "Pick me up in half an hour?"

Dean looked at the paper and smiled at her, "Half an hour and not a minute late."

Andy looked over at Sam, "Nice meeting you, Sam."

"You too," he smiled as she left and walked back over to Dean. "Neither Rebecca or Joyce attend university."

"I'm gonna take a shower before I go. Maybe you can do some research on that laptop of yours while I'm out."

"Fine. But I'm VOD'ing a movie."

"Just don't VOD Naughty Nuns."

Bubba gave him a look like he was pretending not to have heard that.

"He was joking," Sam started.

"I'm not judgin'."

"Looks like you've got yourself a new best bud there," Dean grinned.

They returned their borrowed gear and changed in the locker room. Master Tong stopped them on their way out. "You boys have some natural talent. We have some work to do on your technique though," he nodded to Sam.

Dean shrugged, "We watch a lot of action movies."

Sam sighed, "I'll do better next class."

"That's the right attitude to have!"

They returned to the motel, and Dean dropped his keys on the table before taking off his jacket. "Try to see if there have been any other events in this city's history similar to this."

"Got it," Sam said, kicking off his shoes before settling into the bed by the window and setting his laptop on his lap while Dean went into the bathroom to shower.

After cleaning off, Dean styled his hair, put on a fresh shirt, and slipped into his jacket. "Remember. Behave yourself," Dean said, giving Sam a mock-dad look. He grinned when Sam stared at him, "Lighten up, Sammy. Enjoy your movie."

Sam handed him a slip of paper with directions he'd looked up via the power of google maps. "Here."

"Thanks." He followed the directions to Andy's apartment complex and parked in a spot up front, then, he took the stairs up to the second floor and knocked on her door.

Andy finished applying her mascara and jogged barefoot to the door to answer it. She wore skinny jeans, an ivory silk V neck blouse, and light jewelry. She opened the door to let him in, "Sorry, I just need a couple more minutes, and I'll be ready." She returned to the bathroom to apply her lipstick and put on her earrings.

"Nice place," Dean commented, closing the door behind him. The floors were made of wood laminate, and the walls were a neutral taupe. The small kitchen was on his immediate right with a countertop separating it from the living room. Her dining table was beside the counter with four matching chairs. Something told him she didn't make much use of it though. Further into the small living room was a green fabric couch against the wall with a coffee table placed in front of it. The coffee table looked like something she'd picked up from Ikea, and it still had a half full glass of water and a bag of gummi bears on it. Across from the couch was a small entertainment system with a shelving unit that housed a DVD player, a super Nintendo, and a 32" flatscreen TV. Beside it, nailed to the wall was a shelf that held a small collection of DVDs and games. Dean stopped and stared at the small cage sitting atop a stool beside the shelf of movies. "You have a pet rat?"

She came out of the bathroom and answered on her way into the bedroom, "Oh, yeah, that's Justin. I hope you don't think that's too weird. He's really sweet and smart."

"Nahhh," Dean answered dismissively with an assuring smile. 'Gross,' he thought. "You gave it a human name? Shouldn't he at least have a name like... Splinter?"

"I named him after my favorite character in Secret of NIMH, but Splinter was my second choice," she answered, putting on her heels.

On the other side of the entertainment system was a bookshelf with an extensive collection of books, some of which were lying atop and across each other, as if she'd tried to fit the books into the shelf, even though she'd run out of space a long time ago.

"So, what do you do for a living?" he asked.

She came into the living room and saw him checking out her book collection. "You're looking at it."

He glanced at her and back at the bookshelf. There was a row of books in the middle with her name on them. He hadn't known her last name, so he pulled one out. "You're an author?"

"Yeah, I write a lot of fantasy horror. Werewolves, vampires, gargoyles."

He raised his eyebrows and looked at the cover, "A werewolf book. Cool." 'They're probably nothing like the werewolves I've encountered,' he thought.

"They're a lot of fun to write. It's a lot easier to take liberties with vampire lore than it is police procedures. I'm actually working on a ghost story right now. But if that's not your cup of tea, I did write a murder mystery about a detective helping a girl hunt down her sister's murderer. I did a lot of research to try to get the facts straight, but I had trouble pinning down a detective to interview, so I did have to make a lot of it up. Too bad I didn't meet you sooner so I could grill you on procedures and how not to make it as inaccurate as an episode of CSI." She smiled, "I think I did alright though."

Dean put the book back, "I'm sure you did fine."

"I'd love to make it onto the New York Times' best sellers list. It'd be great to cash in on a movie deal and travel more."

"I also happen to be a big reader of things supernatural. Maybe you can pick my brain about it tonight over dinner."

She grinned, "Alright, let me grab my jacket." She disappeared into her bedroom and came back out a moment later with her jacket and her purse. "Ready."

"I'd like to read one of your books sometime," he said, replacing it on the cluttered bookshelf.

She smiled, "I'll give you one, but let me think up something nice to write inside the dust jacket first."

"Deal." He led her down to his car after she locked up and opened her door for her before going around to the driver's side. "Okay, trusty navigator, which way to our destination?"

She gave him directions as he drove but couldn't hold in a yawn. She looked at him apologetically, "I'm so sorry for yawning. I swear I'm not bored or anything."

"No offense taken," he smiled. "But if you go face first into your food, it might hurt my feelings."

"That would be horrible. I'd be the worst date ever."

"You'd have to be the date from Hell to top a couple of my absolute worst," he said, parking the car in the small lot beside the restaurant. He walked around the side of the car and opened the door for her.

Andy wasn't surprised he'd been on a lot of dates, especially if he frequented bars with badge bunnies. "I'm not that bad. At least, I don't think so. The last few dates I've been on were just awkward and weird, but I don't think it was because of me," she chuckled, hoping that was the truth. "I tried the online dating thing for a month and stopped. Felt too unnatural and kind of creepy meeting people from the internet that were meeting me for the sole purpose of dating me or getting into my pants." She heard herself talking and wondered how desperate she sounded and decided it best to keep her mouth shut.

"There are a lot of weirdoes out there. I doubt it was you. You seem like a great girl. Believe me, I can spot crazy from a mile away." They sat at a booth in the corner, dimly lit by a tiffany ceiling lamp above their table, and placed their orders with the plump waitress that scuttled back and forth between tables. "So, any other hobbies, besides yoga and kickboxing? Maybe sewing or stamp collecting," he smiled and added sarcastically, "or maybe witchcraft?"

Andy raised an eyebrow, "I must have given you a really weird vibe for that one."

"Stamp collecting is perfectly normal."

Andy grinned, "I like to dabble in a little bit of everything. I'm a little scared of heights, but I like rock climbing indoors. I hike occasionally during the summer." She took a sip of her water, "What about you?"

"Me?" he looked thoughtful for a moment. "My brother and I go hunting."

"For what? Deer?"

"Not exactly," he said and changed the subject, "So, about that case my brother and I are working on… We're investigating the recent illness that put several people into comas. Know anything about it?"

"I read an article about it. They don't know what caused it. That's all I really know. Why?"

"From all the people we've interviewed, we've noticed a common theme being that each victim seemed to be a lot more tired than usual."

"Well... they did fall into comas," she replied, giving him a lopsided grin.

Dean cracked a smile, "Leading up to their comas."

"I'm sorry, that was in bad taste," she said, clearing her throat. She'd never been on a date with a cop, but she figured he must be straight laced and probably thought her joke made her a terrible person. "Do you think I might be at risk because of the trouble I've had sleeping?"

"Maybe. Why don't you tell me about when you first started having trouble sleeping? Was there any change in your normal daily routine?"

"No, not really. It just hit me. I, uh..." she hesitated. "I'd rather not chase you away on the first date. You might take back your judgment on me not being crazy." She smiled sheepishly, thinking she was digging herself into a hole. "Okay, I realize I can't tell you I'm secretly crazy and get away with it. But I feel like I'm losing my mind a little with the lack of sleep. If you were a paranormal investigator, then it'd be a different story."

Dean raised his eyebrows and smirked, "Funny you should say that." He took a deep breath, hoping she wouldn't splash her drink in his face and walk away. "I'm not really a police officer. Neither is my brother."

She corrected him, "Detective."

He paused and grinned with a conceding nod, "Detective. I didn't want to chase you away by telling you what I really did."

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. "So, what, you're a con artist? Why are you coming clean with me now?"

"I'm a ghostbuster. You know," he hummed the Ghostbusters theme song. "Who ya gonna call?"

She grinned, thinking, 'Cute.' "Oh yeah? You have a proton pack?"

"No, but I do have a big gun."

She raised her eyebrows. 'Euphemism?' she thought.

Dean smirked, "We do investigate certain special cases like those involving ghosts and spirits and the occasional werewolf. So, maybe you can tell me what's disturbing your sleep and maybe I'll be able to help you out."

She was still suspicious. The whole conversation was beginning to feel like an elaborate prank. "Are you pulling my leg? Because this sounds too good to be true. You could be making this up like you made up being a detective-police-officer." She crossed her arms and sat back in her chair, studying him.

"Not pulling your leg," he raised his right hand. "I swear. It's what we do. Scout's honor."

The waitress brought their dinner and set their plates down with a wide smile and an energetic "Enjoy!" before tending to another table.

Andy was too interested to look at her food just yet. "But, a gun? What kind of gun? I mean, ghosts... bullets... doesn't make sense to me."

"Well, normal bullets won't work, but a shotgun with rock salt shells does a good job of getting rid of a spirit, at least for a minute or two."

"Rock salt!" She sat back in her chair. "Wait… so table salt should work, right? I tried that, and it didn't work. I just ended up with a mess on the floor. I mean, salt on a laminated floor... pain in the ass. I also tried burning white sage, and it just made my apartment stink. I even got a complaint from the neighbor because it wafted into the hallway." She looked embarrassed to admit that and waited for him to pull the rug out from under her. She would kick him under the table if he did.

"I hope you didn't just dump it all over the floor," he grinned. "And sage doesn't work. Do your neighbors a favor and never do that again."

"I circled my bed with it, but I sleep with the window open and all it took was a small breeze to push it around. I also consulted the bible and a priest with a rosary. I don't belong to a church, so I just walked into one and said, 'Give me something holy to protect myself from bad things,'" she said in a tone of self mockery. She sighed, relieved to be talking to a professional if he really was one. She was still ready to punch him in the face, no matter how attractive it was, if he suddenly started laughing at her.

"I'm sure I can do a better job helping you than that priest. Why don't you tell me more about this ghost or spirit? Is it flying around your room, eating everything and getting slime everywhere?"

"Har, har. No. Well, I don't know if it's the same thing that happened to the others, and I'm... really embarrassed. It's just a relief to be able to talk to you about it. I tried asking someone if they believed in ghosts, and they were like, 'Yeah,' but when I said I thought I was haunted, they told me it was all my imagination."

"It's not your imagination."

She felt a wave of relief to hear that and smiled. "I believe there are spirits all over the place, coming and going, and I'd never felt like my house was haunted before. But the last week has been Hell, and I feel like something's latched onto me." She looked down at her steak, remembering the presence of food in front of her. She cut into it and forced herself to eat instead of talk, still enthralled by the discussion.

"And your place doesn't have anything dark in its history, right? No murders or anything?"

"Not that I know of. But I've lived there for a year and a half now, and it's just happened recently. And if it is connected with the others, they don't live in the same building as me." She took another bite of her steak then a drink of water. "The reason I can't sleep is because I'm afraid to. I had an experience that... scared the hell out of me. And when I did wake up from it, I had the worst sleep inertia I've ever had. I almost didn't want to get out of bed. I'm sure I could have stayed in bed for sixteen hours straight or... not have gotten up at all. But I forced myself to get up. I've been reluctant to sleep at all at night since, and I'm lucky to get a nap in during the day. I think the last time I reached my REM cycle was over thirty hours ago."

"It's probably not a ghost, but I'll look into the apartment's history anyway," he said. It sounded like something was sucking her life force, but it wasn't a shtriga. He reached across the table and gave her trembling hand a reassuring squeeze. "My brother and I will get rid of whatever is doing this. I promise."

Her eyes wandered to his hand, warm over hers. "Um, there's something else." She glanced around the room. Even though the table beside them was vacant, she wasn't comfortable talking about it in public. "I'd rather not talk about it here though. Maybe out in the parking lot after we eat."

"Sure." He continued eating and thinking about what could possibly be behind the comatose girls in the hospital. He decided to try and lighten the mood, "So, have you ever unleashed the beast like you did on me against Bubba?"

She grinned, "Hey, I went easy on you." She came to another realization and gave him an accusatory look, "And you're not new to kickboxing, are you!"

He laughed, "Definitely not new, but you impressed the hell out of me with your moves."

"Good…" she paused, pushing her peas around her plate with her fork. "Then, this dinner date wasn't all just a ruse to get information out of me, was it?" She wondered if he'd tell her the truth even if it was and glanced up at him.

"No, it wasn't," he smiled at her, reading her expression. "This is a real date, and I would have asked you out even if I really was a police officer-detective."

She smiled and placed her napkin on the table after finishing her meal and sipped her water.

"Want dessert?" Dean offered, "Or do you want to get out of here?"

"I'm ready to go," she said. Dean signaled the waitress, and she brought the check. "So, what do you charge for your spirit removal services?" Andy asked.

"Nothing," Dean answered, handing the waitress one of his fake credit cards with the bill. "We save people. That's enough."

"That's a relief because writers make crappy money until they hit it big," she said, standing up and following him out to the car. "I could give you a Starbucks gift card."

He chuckled, "Don't worry about it. I won't dip into your coffee money." He opened the car door for her and walked around to sit in the driver's seat. He rested his arm across the back of the seat and looked at her, "So, what was it you didn't want anyone to overhear?"

She looked at her hands in her lap, "I don't think it's just in my apartment. I've felt it outside my apartment too. It's like it wants to touch me when I relax, when I'm vulnerable. If I'm on the brink of sleep sometimes, I feel it touch me."

"Can you feel it right now?" he asked.

"No, but I've also been trying to shut it out. I don't know if it would come into your car, if it has a mind of its own, anyway. I don't know, do they think or do they just act?"

"It depends on what we're dealing with. Some things know what they're doing, others are just replaying the same events of their death over and over."

"Yesterday I was in Starbucks on my laptop because I needed to get out of the apartment. I thought being in public, I'd be safe. I started dozing off at a table and thought I felt it. It startled me, and I jumped up and got the hell out of there."

"What about that night terror you mentioned?"

"Well…" she hesitated and couldn't look him in the eye as she told him about it, so she looked out the windshield, "I was in bed a few days ago when it started. I was having a very pleasant dream. A very vivid dream that I could feel." She scratched above her nose, smiling embarrassedly, "It was, you know, a... an erotic dream. Which isn't actually all that unusual for me because of my writing. But this was different. I mean, it was mind blowing good. But I woke up before it was over, and I was paralyzed." She looked at him, "I felt heavy, like I was sinking into the bed, and I couldn't move. I caught a glimpse of something on top of me, but then I couldn't see or hear anything in the room. But I felt like I wasn't alone. What I felt in my dream wasn't me, and I kept feeling it while I was half awake, but I couldn't pull myself out of it." She averted her gaze and glanced behind Dean at the ashtray in the armrest, noticing the green army man shoved inside. "It was like an invisible man was touching me. It felt good at first, but I didn't want it, and I couldn't stop it. It was terrifying. I eventually fell back asleep, but it was hard to wake up. And now whenever I'm about to fall asleep, I feel his hands on me." She added angrily, daring to look at him now, "This ghost is a perv."

"That would explain why whatever this is is targeting only young women. This thing sounds like an incubus."

"So, I'm not crazy?"

"You're not crazy in the least. I don't think this is a demon but some kind of spirit. I'll have to consult with Sam about this," he said, giving her a reassuring smile. "Don't worry. I've dealt with pretty much everything you can imagine at this point."

"You've gotta keep me involved. Please. I won't get in the way, I promise!"

"You'd make a much better looking sidekick than Sammy, that's for sure," he grinned.

"Sidekick, huh? So, what's the next step? I'm eager to get my ghostbusting on."

"First we need a goat and a pentagram," he said, turning the key in the ignition and putting the impala in reverse.

She stared at him for a moment, "You're joking."

"Haha, first I take you home, and then, tomorrow Sam and I will have a look around your apartment and do some research. You can tag along and help out during that."

"And help vanquish evil, right? I can use a shot gun. I'm a pretty good shot."

He raised an eyebrow, "You have firearms training?"

"From my dad. We used to go skeet shooting all the time. And to the firing range with pistols. I still have my dad's rifle in my closet."

Dean joked, "I'm getting pretty close to marrying you." When he pulled up to her apartment building, he asked, "Mind if I come in?"

"Sure. Come on up," she said, stepping out of the car. He opened the trunk and grabbed his duffle bag, opening the false bottom to put the shot gun inside. Andy caught a glimpse of the hidden arsenal, "So, I guess when you said you go hunting with your brother, you didn't mean deer."

He smirked, shutting the trunk, "Nope." He followed her up to her apartment and waited for her to unlock the door. "If only I were being invited up to your place after a date under different circumstances."

She smiled, "It wouldn't be on the first date if I did."

He shrugged, "I can respect that." He entered and set his duffle bag down on the coffee table beside her glass of water, then proceeded to look around her apartment, checking the windowsills for traces of sulfur.

"What are you looking for?"

"Sulfur and any other signs of demons or ghosts." He opened his bag and pulled out his canister of salt to make lines at each entrance into her apartment. "Where's your bedroom?"

Andy showed him to her bedroom and looked shame faced at the salt on the floor. "Uh… yeah, you can see the mess I made. I swept most of it up." There was still some table salt smeared around her bed on the wooden laminated floor.

Dean took a look around. Upon entering her room, there was a writing desk on the right against the wall with a closed laptop sitting atop it beside a notebook. On the wall above the desk was a movie poster for An American Werewolf in Paris, and to the left of the desk were double doors leading into the walk-in closet. The headboard of her twin size bed was pushed up against the adjacent wall in the center of the room, directly below a window, and had a built in shelving unit where she kept her alarm clock within easy reach to hit Snooze. To the left of her bed was an armchair with an old stuffed elephant sitting on it.

"I didn't think to just sprinkle it around the windows and doors." She sighed, "In my defense... lack of sleep."

"I'm not judging. I'm surprised you tried it at all, really. Most people wouldn't consider it," he said and moved her bed away from the wall into the center of the room. He checked her window to make sure it was securely shut. "I'm going to add another salt circle around your bed, and hopefully it can ward off this entity for the night." He poured the rock salt out forming an unbroken circle around her bed. "It'd take a lot more than a small breeze to break this."

"You are really handy to have around, you know that?" She smiled at him, "Sounds like I want you to reach the high shelves and open the pickle jar when I say it like that. But I feel like I could actually rest easy tonight." She paused, "Well, I probably won't, now that I get anxiety from anticipation of something happening, but I'm counting on a good night's rest after we kill this thing." She followed him into the living room as he put his canister back in the duffle bag.

He glanced up at her, "I could stay the night if you want me to."

"Really?" She hadn't realized how alone she was until he offered. After her first night terror, she realized she didn't have anyone she could call to ask for help. She never saw her friends from her classes outside the studio, and she wasn't close enough to her father to call him for comfort. She chewed her lip, "I've had some weird first dates, but this takes the cake. You wouldn't mind sleeping on the floor or in a chair, would you?"
"I just need to tell my brother I'm spending the night," he smiled and flipped his phone open as he reached into the bag for his shotgun.

"I'm going to wash my face and brush my teeth," Andy said, backing up down the hallway, "I have an extra toothbrush if you want it. I'll be right back." She disappeared into her bedroom for a change of clothes, then went into the bathroom to prepare for bed.
"Hey, Sammy," Dean greeted him when he picked up, "I'm going to spend the night at her place."
"I figured. I'm guessing that means she was a dead end on leads."
"Actually, she might be our biggest lead. I need you to look up info on incubi." He loaded two salt-filled shells into the chamber.
"Really?" He rolled out of bed and grabbed their dad's journal. "That's one we haven't run into yet." He flipped through the pages, "Here we go. There's a lot of info here. Dad apparently had a run in
with a succubus. This says it's a malicious entity that drains sexual energy, and it's empowered by it. So the more busy it gets, the stronger it becomes." He skimmed the page, "There's a lot of lore saying
they're demons, but that might not be the case. The incubus preys on women in their sleep, takes the form of whatever they desire. This says it can be summoned by witchcraft."
"So, it might be a demon, but it might not? Great."
"I don't think it's a demon. I remember studying this myself, and they were purported to be demons by the church because of their sexual nature."
"Alright, but a witch? This might have just reached new levels of pain in the ass."
"Yeah, and there's a binding spell for it. So there'd have to be a cursed item somewhere serving as its vessel."
Andy came out of the bathroom dressed in a pair of pink pajama shorts and a tank top. She opened the cabinet in the hallway and carried a comforter and spare pillow into the bedroom.

Sam continued, "If this thing is taking down multiple people, it could be more complicated than that. Maybe it's not summoned by witchcraft, maybe it's just roaming and feeding on girls around town.
If Andy's one of its targets, you might be able to catch it and kill it. If that doesn't work, then I guess we'd have to find whatever the cursed item is and burn it."
"Catch it and kill it how? Silver bullet? Iron?"

"I'm not sure."

Dean glanced at Andy as she walked past him into the kitchen. "We'll talk about it first thing tomorrow after we pick you up. See ya." Dean hung up and carried his duffle bag and shotgun with him into the bedroom."I'll just sleep in the chair," he called out over his shoulder. He picked up the blanket and pillow from the chair and set them on the ground beside it, then plucked up the stuffed elephant that was sitting beneath them. He smirked and looked at her as she set down two glasses of water on top of her headboard. "Cute."
"In case you get thirsty," she said, looking at him. Her eyes moved down to the stuffed elephant in his hand. She grinned, "You can snuggle him if you want to."
"Heh, no thanks," he smirked and handed it to her. "I'll take you up on that toothbrush."

"I left it by the sink."

He walked down the hall to the bathroom. Andy hopped into bed, dropping Mr. Heffalump on the ground, opposite the side of his chair, as she slipped under the covers. The whole day was a blur because of how tired she was, but she was glad she'd misjudged Dean. As it turned out, he wasn't a dick after all. For the first time since that night she was held down by the incubus, she felt safe going to sleep. Ordinarily, she wouldn't feel safe with a stranger in her room, and she wondered if it was the sleep deprivation interfering with her common sense, but she trusted him. She sat up when he walked back in and watched as he removed his jacket, setting it on the back of the chair. He walked over and picked up a glass of water off her headboard.

"Dean."

"What?"

She pulled him down by the lapel of his long sleeve shirt and kissed him, her lips soft against his. Her heart was sent into a frenzy when he reciprocated, and she broke the kiss so it wouldn't last too long, even though she wanted it to. "Thank you."

He was pleasantly taken by surprise and smiled, "You're welcome."

She licked her lips as she lay back in bed and slipped back under the covers, "Can you promise me something?"

"What?"

"You won't lie to me anymore?" Even though she felt safe with him, she still wasn't sure how much she could trust him. She was almost sure he would have let her believe he was a police officer-detective indefinitely. She wanted the truth.

Lying was something Dean was in the habit of doing casually in his line of work. It was part of how he survived, but he couldn't think of any reason to lie to her now. "Yeah. You know what I do."

Andy felt her eyelids growing heavy and let them close. "I'm going to sleep so well tonight. This is the best slumber party ever, even without a pillow fight." She yawned, "Well, except instead of telling ghost stories, we're living one. I guess that kinda sucks..." Her voice trailed off as she fell asleep.

Dean thought, 'I'm probably not going to be able to sleep after that.' He listened to her breathing become deep and slow, and he picked up his shotgun from his duffle bag, then sat in the chair, holding it across his lap. He thought about their kiss and how to deal with the incubus, but after a while his thoughts became derailed by the uncertainty of his father's whereabouts and whether he was okay, and as he became more tired, his thoughts were punctuated by guitar riffs and choruses from the songs he'd been listening to in the car earlier. After an hour, he nodded off and didn't notice the lamp atop the headboard flicker.

Andy's mind made a seamless transition into a dream state remarkably similar to the real world. In her dream, Dean leaned over her bed and kissed her, slipping his hand beneath the covers as he sought her bare skin. She didn't resist, instead welcoming his advances, and he became more passionate in turn.

In reality, Andy was lying on her side, facing Dean as he slept in the armchair against the wall. But as her dream progressed, she turned onto her back, with one arm behind her pillow and the other resting on her stomach. The sheets pressed into the bed around her as the incubus spread her legs.

Dean opened his eyes at the sound of Andy's soft moan. The incubus was a hazy form on top of her, similar to the black smoke of a demon, except it wasn't a cloud - it was in the form of a man. He became instantly alert and raised his shotgun. The incubus turned its head to look at him with his own face, and for a brief confused moment, Dean lowered the shotgun to study it. Then, he smirked, "Well, aren't you a handsome devil." He raised the shotgun and blasted the entity into a vanishing mist.

The sound startled Andy awake, and she jolted upright with a gasp. She was quiet for a moment, then realized what had happened. "That... fucker!"

Dean circled the bed, checking the salt circle and noticed part of the line had been disturbed by her plush elephant on the floor. He inwardly cursed himself for not double checking it. "He's gone. For now." He looked at her with concern, but then a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "So... what were you dreaming about?"

He was within reach, so she lightly punched him on the arm. "That's irrelevant!" She narrowed her eyes at him. "Could you see it?" Dean grinned, and she knew the answer. She could feel her face change color but hoped the lamp light was too dim for him to see how red her cheeks had turned.

"Rock salt works, but the circle must have been disturbed when you got into bed."

She looked over the side of the bed at Mr. Heffalump and sighed, "Damn me. Figures I would botch it."

He fixed the line and made sure no other spots were disturbed. "All fixed. That should keep that thing away for sure." He walked back over to the chair and sat down in it with the shotgun across his lap. Andy turned to lie on her side, facing him. She watched him in silence, and he returned her gaze. After a long moment of silence, he said, "Try to sleep. He won't bother you. I promise."

Andy was still sleep deprived but felt more awake than she had all day. She hesitated, "I know it's a small bed, but..." She scooted over and patted the mattress. "If you want to." She added with a cheesy smile and a roll of her eyes, "And I don't mean 'make my dreams come true.'"

Dean didn't debate over keeping it professional. He stood up and set the shotgun down to lie across the headboard and reminded her with a smile as he sat on the edge of the bed, "Hey, you made the first move on me." He lay back, hands clasped behind his head.

Andy looked down at his feet. "You wear your shoes to sleep?" She sat up and leaned forward, untying his boots. He looked down and pushed on the heel of each shoe with the opposite foot to help her take them off. After tossing them on the floor, she checked the rock salt to make sure she didn't mess it up again and lay back down on her side. As she put her arm around him, she rested her head on his chest to listen to the drum of his heartbeat and wiggled her bare toes against his sock covered foot. When his arm wrapped around the curve of her waist, his fingers pressed against her hip, sending butterflies through her stomach. Looking up at him, she admitted quietly, "I really want to kiss you again."

Slowly, Dean turned his body into her, rolling her onto her back as he leaned forward, giving her a soft, lingering kiss. Keeping her hands on his sides, she bent her knee to rest it against the outside of his thigh and kissed him back more passionately than she'd allowed herself to before. She moved her hands down and slipped them under his shirt to feel his skin hot against her hands.

Dean broke the kiss to pull his shirt and amulet up over his head and quickly returned her kiss, pressing her lips against hers harder, allowing himself to get carried away in the moment. He slid his leg in between hers, pressing against her inner thigh as he slipped his tongue between her lips. Resting his weight on his elbow, he gave her hip a firm squeeze.

Her dream had aroused her, but his touch was electric, sending tendrils of tingling sensations down her spine and through her belly. Gasping softly at the warmth of his hand squeezing her, she was a little unnerved by the intensity of her desire to have him, but she wasn't going to resist it. She wrapped her leg behind his as she ran her hands up over his back and shoulders, kissing him again between labored breaths and arching her back as she guided his hand to her breast, holding it there as she let go of her inhibitions.

Dean's lips followed the curve of her neck as he slipped his hand under her tank top and bra to massage her breast. She moaned quietly, pressing her lips against his hair, and reached between their bodies with one hand to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants. She slipped her hand inside to stroke him and smiled at the soft sigh he let out against her neck. Nibbling his ear, she inhaled his scent before he lifted his head to meet her lips again. Raising her hips against his, she squeezed her leg against his thigh.

He moved between her legs, breaking away from her to tug on her tank top as she sat up, and pulled it up her arms, then he reached behind her to unclasp her bra. She tossed them on the floor on the other side of the salt circle and lay back down, closing her eyes as his lips returned to her skin. She reached up to run a hand through his hair as he moved lower, trailing kisses from her collarbone down to her breast, where he pinched a taut nipple between his lips before sucking and massaging it with his tongue. He reached between their bodies, pushing his hand into her shorts. A tinge of pleasure coursed through him when he felt the damp spot on her panties, and he rubbed her clitoris through the soft cotton.

Andy shuddered and moaned at his touch, his teasing torturous. "Dean..." She ran her hand through his hair, scraping her nails lightly against his scalp, and released his member as he moved further down the bed. She pushed at the hem of her shorts, and he gripped them with her panties and pulled them down her hips and over her thighs as he kissed her flat stomach. He sat up to lift her feet and pulled her shorts off, then as he gripped the backs of her thighs and spread her legs, he lowered his head between them. The sweet scent of her arousal was subtle but intoxicating as he kissed along the edge of her lips, licking and tasting her.

She arched her back, chewing her lip to subdue a moan as she closed her eyes, focusing on the feeling of his warm, soft tongue as he ran the tip over her sensitive bud and down her slit before sliding it inside her. She breathed deeply, growing warmer inside as he took his time exploring her with his mouth. She was already wet and excited from the dream she'd had, but when he flicked his tongue against her clit, she felt a jolt of pleasure run through her, bringing her closer to climax. Her legs trembled, and her breathing stopped and started with deep breaths and stifled moans as she spread her knees further apart. When gentle waves coursed through her as she reached her orgasm, she squeezed his shoulder and sat up to meet him for a kiss as he rose.

When she tugged his pants down his hips, Dean reached into his back pocket for his wallet and quickly pulled out a condom, then tossed the wallet on top of the headboard, barely missing the shotgun. He tore the package and broke their kiss, pushing his pants down further before rolling the condom down his shaft. He pushed her back onto the bed with a kiss and lowered his hips between her legs, poising himself against her entrance and coating his tip with her lubricant.

Andy ran her hands down Dean's sides and rested them on his hips, pulling him toward her, gently urging him to continue. She gasped softly into their kiss as he penetrated her slowly, spreading her tight walls. He stopped halfway inside her, giving her time to adjust, and she looked up at him to meet his gaze before raising her hips to take him further. Spreading her legs wider, she pulled him into another deep kiss, as aroused by his soft lips caressing hers as she was by his hands exploring her body and his member pushing into her.

Dean slipped his hand beneath her, holding her lower back to keep her hips raised, and tensed as he slid deeper inside of her. Keeping one arm anchored to the bed, Andy arched her back, pressing her body against his as she moved her hips against him. She raised her head, pressing her cheek against his as she whispered into his ear, "You feel so good..."

Her words sent a wave of excitement through him, and he licked his lip, sighing against her hair as he drew his hips back and gave her a long, gentle thrust, filling her. Reaching down, he hooked one of her legs with his arm and pushed it up toward her chest, thrusting into her with a steady rhythm. She moaned softly between labored breaths, squeezing him as waves of pleasure coursed through her with building intensity. She was surprised at how quickly she was reaching her peak again and gripped his arm, frustrated that her body was bringing her so torturously close to the edge without going over. At the same time, it felt so good that she was glad it was drawn out.

Dean entwined his fingers with hers and pinned her hand down on the bed as he kissed her again, unable to resist her sweet lips. He knew she was close, but he continued to thrust into her slowly, filling her fully and grinding against her mound to stimulate her sensitive clit. When she wrapped her leg around his waist, he unhooked her other leg to reach between them and circled her clit with his fingers. She closed her eyes, resting her head back into her pillow as she contracted around him again, and gasped sharply as he thrust into her harder and faster with the length of his shaft, heightening the sensations she felt inside. Her body went rigid, and she curled her toes and squeezed his hand as her breath caught in her throat. She contracted around him in waves as a powerful orgasm wracked her body, and her legs tightened around him briefly before falling languid at his sides, her body releasing all its tension.

He kept thrusting into her as she massaged his member through her orgasm, and he moved his hand from between her legs to hold her waist. Leaning forward, he buried his face against her neck, letting out a quiet groan as he pushed himself deep inside of her, throbbing against her walls as he came.

Andy wrapped her arms around him, his heavy breaths against her neck tickling her skin. She turned her head, kissing his face tenderly, and sighed, "I don't think I could have fallen asleep with you anywhere near me without doing that first." She admitted, embarrassed, "I tried to resist. I guess I was afraid you might think I'm a slut. I mean, we did just meet earlier today. But these are... unique circumstances."

"I don't think you're a slut. Do you think I'm a slut?" he smirked.

"No," she smiled back. He had a point. He was a participant too. She'd just become so used to men being intimidated by a woman's sexuality. "I like you."

"I like you too," he said and gave her another quick kiss before he sat up to remove the condom. Andy pulled the sheets up over herself, resting her legs together. She sat up and reached back for the box of tissue on her headboard. When she offered it to him, he grabbed one and wrapped up the condom and dropped it in the waste basket beside the bed. Leaning back and raising his hips, he pulled up his boxer briefs and pants.

Andy replaced the tissue box and picked up her water, drinking it down to the last drop before setting the empty glass back on the headboard. She caught a glimpse of the clock as she did and looked surprised, "Two a.m.! And yet this is the most energy I've had all week." She rolled over onto her stomach and stretched.

Dean admired her bottom through the sheets as he reached over her head for his glass of water. He took a sip and set the cup down. "Let's get some sleep. Tomorrow we'll get to the bottom of this." He lay back down, and Andy assumed the position they'd started in, resting her head on his chest and hugging him.

"Okay." She wiggled her toes against his still sock-covered foot and glanced down at it without lifting her head. She used her toes to try and peel his sock off, too lazy to reach down. When she got one past his heel, she let out a quiet victorious, 'Heh!'

Dean chuckled and kicked off his sock as he pulled her tight against him. "Have a nice, long sleep this time."

"I will."

The next morning, Andy was trying to figure out if she was hearing Cream's 'Sunshine of your love' or Scorpions' 'Rock you like a Hurricane.' She opened her eyes and realized the guitar riff was coming from Dean's phone across the room, in one of his jacket pockets. She lifted her head to look up at the clock on the headboard, which read 9:05.

"Morning," Dean opened his eyes and smiled up at her, listening to the beep of his phone going to voicemail.

"Hi," she smiled back and reached up to turn the lamp off, then pulled the blanket up as she lay back down.

When his phone started ringing again, Dean grumbled and rolled out of bed to retrieve his phone. "Hey, Sammy, what's up?"

"Were you sleeping? What time are you going to get over here so we can get back to work?"

"Yeah, it was a long night. We had a run in with the incubus," Dean answered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he cleared the sleep from his eyes.

"Did you kill it?"

"No." He looked at the clock, "Damn, it's after nine? I was more tired than I thought."

"Can you be back here in half an hour? We should get started. And I want to get breakfast."

"Yeah, okay. Half an hour. I'm bringing Andrea along to help us."

Andy watched him as she stretched out on the bed beneath the blanket and couldn't help wondering if she'd just had a one night stand or if it could be more. She hoped for the latter.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure it's a good idea. I'll see you in a half hour, okay, bye." He hung up on him and tossed his phone on the chair before picking up his shirt off the ground. He put his amulet back on around his neck after untangling it from his shirt.

"I'm going to go take a shower," Andy said, sitting up, and looked at him as he started getting dressed. "Want to join me?"

He stopped putting his shirt on as it was halfway down his head and pulled it back off. "You really don't need to ask."

She grinned and gave him a kiss on the cheek as she passed him on her way to the bathroom.

Sam was ready and waiting for them with his laptop and dad's notebook. When he heard the impala pull into the parking lot, he stepped outside, locking the door behind him.

Andy stepped out of the car and smiled at Sam as she moved to the backseat, "Good morning!"

"Morning," Sam smiled back, then looked at Dean.

"Should we go to the IHOP down the street?" Andy suggested. "We could probably sit there for a while without being bothered by a lot of people." She mumbled, "Plus it's next to a Starbucks."

"Sure," Sam shrugged.

Dean drove them down the street and parked in the back of the lot. "Do you want to go get your fancy coffee while we get a table?"

"Yeah, I'll meet you inside. Can I get you guys anything? Sam, a pumpkin spice latte maybe?"

"Just a plain coffee, thanks," Sam answered.

"Me too," Dean added.

"Are you sure?" she urged, "'tis the season to drink pumpkin and gingerbready things. Mm."

Sam hesitated then shrugged, "Surprise me."

She grinned and looked at Dean. "Feeling adventurous, Dean?"

He gave in, "I'll try anything once. Get me whatever you think tastes good."

Sam looked at him on the way into the IHOP, "If she gets you a vanilla latte, I'm going to make fun of you."

"Shut up."

Sam sat down in a corner booth across from Dean. He picked up a menu tucked behind the napkin dispenser. He opened it, but he was looking at Dean. "So... aside from the obvious, what happened last night?"

"I don't know what you mean," Dean said, giving him an innocent look, "I salted all the entrances to her apartment, but I forgot to cover the bathroom window. Remedied that before we left. I also put a circle around her bed, but the salt got disturbed, and she was... attacked by the incubus. I shot it, fixed the circle, and that took care of it for the night."

"Good thing you were there or she'd probably be in a coma," Sam said, furrowing his brow. "But you don't think she could be involved somehow? In controlling it, I mean. She could have been playing you last night after she discovered we were onto her. I mean, she is still the only connection between all the victims."

"This girl would have to be one hell of an actress to fool me. I could tell she was genuinely afraid and bothered by this thing. But it's something I've kept at the back of my mind to keep a look out for... even if I don't think she's doing that."

"Did you talk to her about them at all?"

"Ooh," Dean looked up, thinking, "That's a bit of an oversight."

Sam was annoyed, "You didn't mention their names?"

"It was a busy night, Sam. I might have forgotten to touch base on the other girls specifically."

"You had all night."

Dean smirked, "Yeah, well."

Andy walked in with a cardboard cup holder and cups stacked on top of one another, six all together. She sat down next to Dean and set them down on the table.

Sam raised his eyebrows, "Why so many cups?"

"We're not taste testing the whole menu, are we?" Dean asked.

"Well, you guys wanted black, so I got you both," Andy answered, setting a cup of coffee in front of each of them.

"You know they serve coffee here too, right?" Sam smiled, taking a sip of his coffee.

"Yeah, but it's not as good," she said.

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, Sammy," Dean chastised.

"I'm... thank you, Andy."

"You're welcome."

A waitress came by to take their orders, apologetic for the wait. Andy ordered French toast with eggs whites, Dean ordered a stack of pancakes with a side of sausage, and Sam ordered a plate of bacon, eggs, and fresh fruit. Dean looked at the other cups in the cardboard holder, "So, what else did you get?"

She set down the cups between them, "Pumpkin spice latte and gingerbread latte."

Sam reached for the gingerbread, but Dean snatched it up first and sniffed it, "Gingerbread, huh?" Sam gave him a look like he'd just stolen the bacon off his fork, and Dean looked over the cup at him, "What? I'm older, I get first pick."

"Fine. I wanted the pumpkin anyway," Sam said, taking a sip.

Dean looked at the two cups in front of Andy, "What did you get?"

"Oh, my usual Caramel Macchiato and an Apple Cider Spice."

Dean shrugged and tried the Gingerbread latte, made a face and set the cup down. He slid it across the table to Sam. "Let me try the pumpkin one."

"What?" Sam looked incredulous. "No!"

"Come on! Let me try it!"

"Get your own."

Andy laughed and handed Dean her cider. "Try this."

He sniffed it before tasting it. "That's good. Thank you."

"So, Andy," Sam said, bringing them back to business, "Did you know Joyce, Rebecca, Britney, and Janine are all in comas?"

"I'm impressed you remembered all their names without a cheat sheet," Dean said.

Andy looked at Dean, "You forgot to mention that to me?"

Dean looked back and forth between them like he was being ganged up on. "I was distracted."

Andy looked at Sam, "Well, that explains their absences. Why were they being targeted?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out. Is there anyone else that takes both classes with you?"

"No." She waited for some sort of explanation or another question, but Sam just looked back at her. She looked at Dean and back at Sam. "I'm not a suspect, am I?"

Sam used a tone of voice like he was breaking it to her gently, "You're the connection between them all. And you're still conscious."

"I didn't think that could be a bad thing until you said it that way."

The waitress came back to the table with their breakfast and went to tend to her other customers.

"Sorry. This is just a tricky situation. We don't know yet if somebody summoned it or if it's a rogue spirit. If it's summoned, it doesn't look good with you being at the center of it all." Sam poked at his eggs so the yolks spilled across the plate.

"You think someone put a curse on me? Like in that movie where everyone around the person falls under bad luck?" Andy frowned, pouring syrup on her French toast.

Sam looked at Dean, "That's a possibility."

Dean set his cup down and looked at Andy, "Is there anyone you can think of that would want to take some kind of revenge on you?"

"No," she started, then thought twice about it. "Well... maybe. There is one friend I had a falling out with about six months ago. But I really doubt she'd dabble in witchcraft or that she had it out for me that bad. I'd be more suspicious of that vegan hippie in my yoga class. Shit, I forgot, she's in a coma."

"We should still follow up on this friend. What was her name?" Dean asked before biting into a piece of sausage.

"Wendy Boudreau."

Sam opened his laptop beside his plate to take notes. "What caused the falling out?"

"Nothing exciting," Andy said, taking a bite of her French toast. They waited for her to elaborate, so she swallowed before continuing, "She was possessive. She acted like I was her best friend, but any mutual friends of ours said she was bitter about me, that she always had something bad to say. If I ever went out with other friends, she took it personally. She also said she hated my ex because he 'took me away' from her. And when she started dating a mutual friend of ours - George -he asked me what I thought about her. I didn't know they were dating. I told him about what she'd said to me and how I felt like I had a second clingy boyfriend trying to sabotage all my relationships." She sighed, "Real good friend I am, right? Can't blame her for being angry at me for that one. We had it out, and she said she 'didn't love me anymore.' I'd known her since high school, but I just said 'Good riddance' over a text message and changed my phone number. I don't need that kind of venom in my life."

Dean said, "Something tells me that you might have put this behind you, but she sure as hell hasn't. Dig around for any info you can find on this crazy chick and where she lives now, Sam."

"Alright." Sam accessed the DMV database to look her up.

"So, Andy, ever commit a B and E?" Dean gave her a mischievous smile.

"No, but it's on my bucket list."

"I'm so close to replacing Sam with you as my new partner." Dean gave Sam a mock serious look, "Better watch out, Sammy, she's gunning for your spot."

"I could use a vacation," Sam smiled, playing along with it. "Wait... does she know... everything?" Dean gave him a shrug. "Seriously? You're the worst secret keeper ever."

"Dude, she wasn't gonna talk to me. She literally said 'if you were a paranormal investigator.' How could I not tell her what we do?"

Sam tried to wipe the look of disbelief off his face and looked back at the screen of his laptop.

"Besides, it's not like we haven't been honest before on the job. Remember Haylie?"

Andy added, "I'll keep your secret, don't worry."

Sam looked at her, "It's nothing against you, just... nothing." He went back to typing.

"Funny, you're getting mad at me about it when you're the one always preaching about trying the honest route."

"That's different." Sam knew it was an unspoken rule not to tell people about what they do for their safety. It was also Dean that was always drilling it into his head that it was one of dad's rules. "Just forget it, okay? It's not a big deal."

"Now we're on the same page."

Andy punctuated the awkward silence that followed their dispute, "So, whose house are we breaking into?"

"We should go look around some of the victims' places. See if we can find any hex bags or signs of spells. Anything that can tell us if there's a witch involved," Dean said.

Sam looked up from the map on his screen, "I'm going to check the hospital to see if anybody else was admitted, then I'll go check out Wendy's place. Looks like she lives in an apartment a few blocks from the hospital."

"Oh, she has a dog," Andy noted. "In case that's important."

Sam hadn't thought of that. "What kind of dog?"

"Oh, he's just a stinky beagle with a skin condition."

"So, we'll stop by the store and get a jar of peanutbutter," Dean winked and stood up, dropping some money on the table. "Be careful, Sammy. If she really is a witch capable of summoning this thing..."

"I know, I'll be careful."

"That's when you shouldn't be above hitting a girl," Andy added.

Sam looked at her, surprised. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"Don't worry. Sam will probably try to connect with her emotionally and show her the error of her ways," Dean said with a hint of mockery to his tone.

Sam gave him another look as he closed his laptop and followed them to the car.

"Oh, Sam, try to find a diary if you can. Look for a pink book with ponies and princesses on it."

"Pink diary?" Sam looked up at Andy for confirmation.

She shrugged, "I have no idea what he's talking about."

"What?" Dean looked at them, "She's a chick."

Andy scoffed, "So, all girls like ponies and princesses? If she's a witch, wouldn't it be black with pentagrams and blood and stuff?"

Dean shook his head, "Too obvious."

"Her favorite color is green, for the record. Not that it matters."

Dean amended his earlier statement, "Okay, look for a green book with ponies and princesses... wearing pointy black hats."

Sam sighed, "This is the most pointless discussion we've had all week."

Andy grinned, "It's only been that long?"

Dean dropped Sam off at the hospital in the circle driveway, and Andy took his place in the front seat. Sam rested his hands on the top of the car as he leaned down to talk to them through the open window, "Keep your phone on, Dean. Andy, can you open that for a sec?"

She opened the glove compartment where they kept a pile of badges and ID's. "Whoa, jackpot."

Dean leaned over, grabbed his CDC badge and tossed it out the window to him. "See you in a while, Sam."

"Be safe," Andy added before Dean hit the accelerator. She looked through the ID's but could tell Dean was uncomfortable with her snooping, so she put them back and closed the compartment. "Sorry, I'm nosy. Those badges look legit. You must be pretty smooth thieves to pull them off of cops." She looked at him and grinned, "So, are you good cop or bad cop?"

"I'm better suited to being the bad cop between me and Sam. He's too much of a goody two-shoes to really squeeze someone for information."

"He does have that trustworthy look about him."

"Are you saying I don't?"

"Oh, no. You're charming, but you look like you listen to the little devil on your shoulder. Sam just seems like he can win anyone's trust in under a minute. He has a look."

"You mean that constipated puppy dog look he gets? It's in the eyebrows."

She laughed, "Yeah. So, what about me? Good cop or bad cop?"

"Bad cop."

"Really? You think being bad cop would come more naturally to me?"

"No, but it would be adorable to see you threaten to beat the crap out of a suspect while I tell them that you're a loose cannon."

She grinned, "I like it. So, if we ever get a chance to team up, how about I'll be the bad cop if a guy's involved but a good cop if it's a woman?"

"Deal. I can tell working with you is going to be the most fun I've had in weeks." He stopped the car in front of Rebecca's apartment complex and parked along the curb.

They walked down the concrete pathway as they looked for 21B. "Too bad this situation is probably never going to happen. Unless..." She took out her phone and typed a note into it. She could always incorporate it into a novel.

Dean looked at her phone. "What are you doing?"

"Writing it down to throw into a novel, so I can live vicariously through my writing." She looked up at him and shrugged, "I live a pathetic existence."

"Ha! Really? Let me see that." He snatched her phone from her and typed his number into her contacts before calling himself. "Don't go texting me a hundred times a day though, okay?" He added her to his contacts. "And you're not pathetic."

"Thanks," Andy smiled and took her phone back. She peeked through the window before knocking on the door. "I think Melissa is home."

A pale red head barely reaching five feet tall answered the door. Dean recognized her as the girl Sam had spoken to in the hospital the day before. "Hi, Andy. What brings you here? And… hey, aren't you that CDC guy's partner?"

"Yeah, I, uh, left my badge in the car. But I was wondering if I could take a look around your house, just in case there's some kind of contagion."

Melissa looked at him suspiciously. He wasn't dressed in a suit anymore but jeans and a leather jacket. "And you two are together?"

"Small world, huh?" Andy smiled. "We won't make a mess or destroy anything. We just want to make sure you're safe and find any leads to help Rebecca."

"Okay," Melissa opened the door wider and they walked inside.

Andy gave her a hug, "How are you holding up?"

"It's rough. Thanks for coming by though."

"Do you mind if I help him look around?"

"No, it's okay. Are you looking for mold or something?"

"We'll know when we find it," Dean answered. He walked into the kitchen and started checking under the sink and through the cabinets.

"I guess I'll cover the bathroom."

After going through the cabinets, Dean looked at Melissa, who was standing behind him, watching every move he made. "Think I can have a look at your bedroom? You can go in ahead if you have any embarrassing stuff to hide."

"Oh, sure."

Andy checked all the drawers and even under the tank lid of the toilet in her search, even though she had no idea what she was looking for. When he passed her in the hallway on his way to the bedroom, she followed him inside. He started rifling through the drawers, and Andy suggested thoughtfully, "We should check the bed. I mean, they're in comas, so it would make sense to look there."

"You're probably right. Why didn't you think of checking under the bed when we first got here?"

She stuck her tongue out at him as she walked over to the far side of the bed. She checked inside the pillow cases while Dean lifted up the mattress.

"Nothing," he said. "Maybe underneath." They both knelt down on the floor to check the floor under the bed. "Think you can squeeze under there to get it?"

"I can try." Andy crawled under the bed, shimmying her way underneath, but it was a tight fit, only maybe six inches above the ground. "I don't know how Wendy could have put this under here; she's bigger than me."

"Maybe she just tossed it under. So, is she 'a great big fat person'?"

Andy chuckled, "You're terrible. No." She reached out and grabbed the bag, then slowly wiggled her way out until Dean pulled her out by her ankles. She sat up and held it out to him, "That it?" She inhaled before sneezing. She felt like she was coated in dust.

He put the hex bag in his pocket and helped her up. "Well, it definitely confirms our suspicions of a witch. Actually it's better that than searching for a rogue spirit."

Dean's cell rang and he answered, "Hey, Sam, guess what we found."

"I'm really hoping for anything right now. You won't believe who was admitted to the hospital this morning. "

Andy stood on her tiptoes to listen, then whispered, "Put him on speaker."

Dean looked around for Melissa before hitting the speaker button. "We found a hex bag here."

"Good. Go find the rest. Tammy was admitted this morning, and one of the girls… Janine - died."

Andy looked up at Dean, horrified.

Dean's jaw tightened, "We need to hurry, Sam. Are you still at the hospital?"

"No, I'm on my way to Wendy's now. I checked the hospital room for any paraphernalia, didn't see anything. This thing must have followed her to the hospital somehow to finish her off. He's more powerful now. Tomorrow morning, the next victim might not end up in a coma at all."

"We had it cut off from Andrea. It's probably pretty pissed off too. Be careful, Sammy, who knows what kinda crazy crap can go down if you run into Wendy and she wants to harm you."

"Well, there's no time for me to wait for you. You need to get the rest of those hex bags."

"We'll catch up with you as soon as we can." Dean hung up.

"Does he have a weapon?" Andy asked, concerned. "You know, I can wing it - the B&E's I mean - if you need to go help him."

"Are you sure? I'd rather not leave you alone with a pissed off sex spirit roaming around and hex bags to be found."

"I already know where to look. Just let me flash your badge at the landlord if I can't find a way in."

"Okay. I'll take you back to your place, but make sure you contact me the moment you think something is up."

"Okay. What do we do with the hex bag?"

"Burn it. All of it. That's all you have to do."

"Okay." Andy walked out to the front room with Dean where Melissa was waiting for them. "We're done here, Melissa."

"Your girlfriend is going to be okay," Dean assured her.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Did you find something?"

Dean hesitated, "You're safe, you don't need to quarantine your room or anything like that. But we know what the underlying cause is, and we know how to help her recover."

"Is it an allergy to something?"

"The doctor will run some tests to make sure, but that's possible," Dean said, using her leading questions to satisfy her curiosity.

Andy opened the front door to leave and turned to say good-bye to Melissa. Dean slipped outside to avoid further questioning. "I'll talk to you later, Melissa. There's no need to worry anymore."

Dean took his hand held torch out of the trunk and moved to the driver's seat. He kept the driver side door open as he lit the bag on fire and dropped it on the ground. It burned bright blue. "That should break the curse on her girlfriend."

"Wow," she watched as it disintegrated. "What was in it?"

"A bone, maybe from a chicken or a cat, something of the victim's, other hoodoo and voodoo type stuff. "

"Yuck." She walked back around to the passenger side and picked up the list of addresses off the seat before she sat down. She reached into the glove compartment for one of his badges and ignored the .9 mm Taurus 92. "I'm borrowing this. Where does Tammy live?"

"Sorority."

"Oh, right, with Britney. So, two birds with one stone. What are you guys going to do if you find Wendy?"

"Well, hopefully we won't have to kill her. I'm guessing she's a novice witch, so it wouldn't be as hard as putting a bullet between her eyes. Now, if she's got the backing of a demon... that can prove problematic."

"I'll join you guys after I gather all the hex bags. Maybe I can talk her down if it is her. I wouldn't have expected this from her, but I don't know who else it could be."

Dean drove back downtown and parked outside her apartment. "Remember to keep your eyes open and get the hell out of there if you think something is wrong."

"I will. I'll text you updates as I go."

He reached into the backseat and handed her his double barrel shotgun. "Take this just in case you need it." He dug through his pocket and handed her five salt filled shotgun shells. "Don't hesitate to blast that spirit if you see it."

"Thanks," she cracked a smile and leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. She tucked the list of addresses and the shotgun shells into her purse before stepping out of the car. She walked up the stairs to her apartment, relieved no one saw her carrying a shotgun, and set her things down on the kitchen counter. She went through her walk-in closet in her bedroom looking for a bag large enough to hide the shotgun in, but all she came up with was a colorful beach tote. 'This will look ridiculous, but it'll have to do,' she thought.

She found a box of matches in her kitchen drawer and placed them in the tote with the shotgun, ammo, badge, and her wallet. She opened the fridge and took out a cold cup of coffee she'd saved from the previous morning and sipped it on her way back into the bedroom. She set it on the headboard before crouching down on all fours. Dean had already moved the bed away from the wall, and there wasn't a hex bag on the floor. She couldn't see any tears in the dust protector on the box spring either. She lifted up the mattress in case it was stuffed in between, but she couldn't see anything, so she pushed it off the box spring and flipped it over. She lifted the box spring and sighed, letting it down. "Where the hell is it?" She checked the drawers to her dresser, but there were only clothes inside. She'd have to look again later, after she'd disposed of the hex bags in the comatose victims' houses. She grabbed her beach tote and went downstairs to her car. 'First stop, Joyce's house.'

Sam tried knocking on Wendy's door, but no one answered. He looked around for passersby before he knelt down to pick the lock, and he was greeted by a happy dog when he opened the door. "Hey, boy." He pet him on the head before he remembered the skin condition. The apartment was sparsely decorated and clean, with the exception of a few dog toys strewn about the living room floor. There was a television with an X box in front of a futon sofa, and the sink was beginning to collect a pile of dirty dishes. He walked down the hall to the bedroom and noticed writing all over the walls. For a brief moment, he expected to read something dark hinting at her being a serial killer, but the writing on the walls were random quotations and song lyrics. He read the lines above her bed that ran together:

We write our prayers on a little bomb Kiss it on the face and send it to God And all the things that you never ever told me And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me Is there really no way to reach me? Am I already gone? So this is your Maverick And this is Vienna My feet is my only carriage So I've got to push on through But while I'm gone Everything's gonna be alright.

"Huh. So she likes her music." He turned to her desk against the opposite wall and checked the drawers, but he didn't find anything useful. A blank notebook, a pack of post-it notes, a collection of pens and pencils, a matchbook, and a pack of AA batteries. Then, he stepped over to the chest of drawers against the adjacent wall and checked each drawer, which held a few pairs of socks, underwear, and T shirts. Next, he checked her closet, but it was empty except for some hanging clothes and a row of shoes on the floor. Last, he checked under her bed, but there were only dust bunnies. On his way to the bathroom, he texted Dean: House looks clean. Not sure it's her.

He opened the door to the broom closet on his way down the hall, but aside from a vacuum and an ironing board, it was empty too. The happy dog walked up to him with his tongue lolling out and his tail wagging. "Hey boy, where's the altar?" Sam bent forward, hands on his knees. "Altar." The dog wagged its tail and ran into the bedroom. "There's no way that worked." The dog came back with a shoe in his mouth.

Sam heard a key inserted into the doorknob and quickly sidestepped into the bathroom. He waited for her to enter, but the door didn't open. He realized he hadn't locked it behind him when he broke in and figured she knew better than to come inside. He texted Dean: She knows I'm here, getting out. He peeked out the living room window and saw a couple talking outside, so he decided to sneak out the bedroom window and take the fire escape into the back alley.

Sam was surprised to see Dean pull up in the impala as he climbed out the window. When he was on the ground, he walked around the side of the car. "How did you know I would be here?"

"You didn't get my text?" Dean was met with a look that said 'What text?' and shrugged, "I'm psychic."

Sam sat down in the passenger seat and rested his arm on the open window frame. "I didn't find anything useful. She seems pretty average."

"Are you sure you turned that place upside down?"

"I checked pretty much everywhere, but I heard her come home, so I left." Sam looked at him, "Hey... I hate to pitch this idea again, but... did you snoop around Andy's apartment at all?"

"What? Like in her panty drawer? Do you think I'm some kind of pervert?"

"I -no, come on, be serious."

"No, I didn't go digging around. My gut tells me she's not our witch."

"Yeah, I don't think she is either. But I have my doubts about Wendy too."

"Did you check her panty drawer?"

Sam knitted his brows, "I didn't put my hands inside it."

Dean chuckled, "I'm picturing you going through it with a stick."

Sam stifled an amused grin, "No. I just checked the drawers and moved on. Only thing I found was her dog who has a skin problem. I will need to wash my hands by the way." He wiped his palms on his lap.

Dean grimaced, "You should've washed your hands in her bathroom. Now you're getting dog skin disease all over my car."

"I haven't even touched the car."

"You touched the handle!"

Dean's cell beeped with an incoming text message from Andy: Got hex bag from Joyce's. Badge came in handy.

Andy dropped her phone into her tote and sat on the edge of her seat with the door to her car open. She curiously sniffed the hex bag and scrunched her nose at the smell before lighting a match and holding it under the bag. She looked around to make sure the coast was clear before stepping out of the car and setting the bag on the ground. She lit match after match, piling them around the hex bag until it finally caught aflame. She watched the fire burn blue and dissipate into ash before leaving. "Damn, that took almost all my matches." She tossed the matchbox into her bag and drove to the university.

When she arrived on campus, she bought a daily parking permit and walked where she remembered the sorority to be. She didn't exactly look the stereotypical part, but she hoped if she acted like she belonged there, they wouldn't be suspicious. She had no idea which room belonged to Tammy though.

Andy let herself in the front door, and there were a couple of girls sitting on the couch watching Jersey Shore. "Which room is Tammy's?" she asked.

One of the girls didn't even look at her and pointed, but the other looked over her shoulder and asked, "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm her sister," Andy snapped back like she had every right to be there.

"Oh."

Andy walked into the bedroom the first girl pointed to and noticed two beds on either side of a chest of drawers. There were posters adorning the walls, leaving little blank space between them, and clothes were strewn about the floor. Beside the digital clock on the chest was a plastic jar that looked like it came from Costco and used to hold mayonnaise, but the label had been ripped off and it was filled with something else.

She decided to start her search with the bed on the left and looked underneath it but didn't see anything. She checked the pillowcase and found a hex bag, dropped it in her tote and looked at the bed on the right, hoping Tammy and Britney shared the same room. She started with the pillowcase before crouching down and looking underneath the bed. "Always the last place you look," she sighed, setting her tote down and crawling underneath to reach it. Her phone vibrated in her back pocket and she wiggled to take it out. "Dean?"

"Hey, any luck on the other hex bags?"

"Yeah, I got Tammy's and Britney's. And they have a giant jar of condoms in their room."

"Guess we can't say those girls aren't prepared for the weekend." Dean saw Sam give him a look and continued, "The Wendy search was a bust. We're on our way back to your place."

One of the girls from the living room walked in and looked at Andy, who was still halfway under the bed. "Damn girl, you have a nice butt. You should rush for our sorority."

"Whoa, what am I missing out on over there?" Dean grinned, "And I agree with her. You do have a great butt."

Sam looked at Dean and rolled his eyes.

"Thanks," Andy said, wiggling out from under the bed with the hex bag in hand. "Oh, and I kinda killed all my matches on that first hex bag, so I'm gonna need your torch thingamajig."

"A what bag?" the sorority sister asked, confused.

"Not talking to you," Andy answered as she dropped the hex bag in her tote. She picked it up and walked past the sorority girl on her way out.

"Right, I forgot to give you the thingamajig, so just hang onto those hex bags, and we'll meet you at your place."

"I'll be there soon."

Andy placed her tote in the passenger seat and drove back to her apartment building across town. As she turned into the driveway of the parking lot, her engine coughed and the lights flickered on her dash. The numbers on the clock scrambled before restoring themselves to 3:53. "What-" She caught a glimpse of something in the rearview mirror and let out a startled cry as she stomped on the brake. Dean sat in the backseat, but she knew it wasn't really him. He didn't look how she'd imagined a spirit would look. He looked like flesh and blood.

She quickly put the car in park and reached into her bag with her right hand while she went for the handle on the door with her left, but the incubus grabbed her arms to restrain her as he moved into the front seat. She felt a magnetic energy paralyzing her, making her arms heavy. "No!" She squirmed and turned her body to kick at the spirit but only found air. Her head started to feel heavy, like her brain was made of lead, and she rested it against the driver side window with her hand pinned behind her neck. She wriggled her fingers to try to grasp the shotgun, but her wrist was held down against the seat. The incubus gripped her throat, freeing her hand on the door behind her. Unable to breathe, she smacked the horn before the incubus kissed her bruisingly hard and pinned her hand against the steering wheel. She felt dizzy and could feel him inside of her as he drained her energy, making her too weak to struggle against him. No... I'm awake... I'm... She heard gunshots and her eyelids flittered open.

Having heard the horn honking, Dean ran out to the car with Sam and shot the spirit through the windshield three times with his .45 caliber colt. "Damn it!"

The incubus flickered, distracted by the bullets but undeterred, and released Andy long enough for her to grip the shotgun beside her hand. She slid the safety off and angled it upward out of the bag, then pulled the trigger. She dented the ceiling of the car and shattered the passenger side window, but the spirit vanished into a mist.

Sam ran over to the driver's side door and opened it, then carefully lifted Andy out with his arms under hers. "Are you okay?"

She was still too weak to stand and dropped the shotgun on the driver seat as he pulled her out. "I'm alive," she answered.

He knelt down behind her, keeping her propped up. "Can you stand?"

"Not yet." She straightened up and bent her knees, leaning forward against them as she tried to gather her strength.

Dean knelt down in front of her and put his hand on her knee. He smirked, peering into her face, "You're a firecracker."

She looked up at him, tired, and smiled, "Hand me that coffee cup in there. I'm powered by coffee like Superman is powered by the sun."

Sam and Dean both stood up, but Dean reached into the cup holder in the car and retrieved her half empty cup of coffee for her. "When did you have time to stop for coffee?"

She took it and sipped it. "Leftovers from yesterday."

Sam cringed, "You drink day old coffee?"

"It's still good!"

Dean grabbed the shotgun and picked up her beach tote from the front seat. He looked amused.

"Okay, I didn't have a duffle bag, alright," Andy said indignantly.

"Wasn't gonna say a word."

"Let's hurry up and burn those hex bags and find the one in your place," Sam suggested.

"I already tossed my bedroom. I couldn't find it."

Dean took the handheld torch out of his jacket and burned the hex bags.

Sam furrowed his brow, "That means the spirit could be bound to a vessel, something in your apartment."

"Great. How do we know what it is?"

"Yeah, that's the thing..."

"We don't," Dean answered, dropping the burning hex bags on the ground.

Andy tried not to wobble as she stood up. "Let's figure it out inside where I can sit in a salt circle."

Dean closed her car door, "Sorry about your car."

"Yeah, I don't want to think about that right now. I doubt my insurance company will cover a shotgun blast from the inside. How would I even explain that?" She walked with them up to her apartment and collapsed into her couch. "Oh, relaxation."

Sam looked around and grinned at Dean when he saw the cage. Dean eyed Justin and looked at Sam as if to say, 'Shut up.' He cleared his throat, "We better double check all the entrances to make sure none of the salt lines have been broken."

"I don't wanna move. Can you?" Andy asked without looking up from where her face was buried in a cushion.

"Don't worry, he was talking to me," Sam said. He checked the windows and doors in the living room while Dean checked the bathroom then the bedroom. From the hallway, Sam peered into the bedroom where Dean was standing amongst a mess of bedding. "You weren't kidding when you said you tossed your bedroom. Looks like a tornado hit it."

"Oh, yeah, think you can fix the mattress for me?" Andy asked, turning her head to face the direction they were in so they could hear her.

Sam gave Dean a look that said 'go ahead.' He wasn't going to touch it himself after he knew what they did in it the night before. "Do you know where Wendy might run to if she were trying to hide?"

"No, it's been months since I've spoken to her."

Dean fixed the bed and joined them in the living room. "Sam, did you see anything in Wendy's apartment that might point us in the right direction? Magazines, business cards. No journal or diary?"

"I did see a matchbook for a club, I think it was Boogaloo?"

"Oh, she did like that place. I guess it's possible she'd go there. She was sleeping with one of the bartenders for a while. I think his name was Luis."

"Then, we'll start there," Dean said.

Sam looked at Andy, "Did you notice anything missing that turned up later where you'd thought you already looked?"

"I'd have to think about that one." She didn't keep that much stuff, but what she did have she was constantly misplacing.

"You should stay here while we check out the club. You're safe with the rock salt," Sam said.

Andy frowned, "Alright. Safe enough to take a nap?"

"Yeah," Dean looked around. "This thing is stronger than before but not strong enough to get by the protective barriers. Rest up and try to think about what the vessel could be. I'd hate to have to light your entire apartment on fire just to take this thing out."

She narrowed her eyes at him, uncertain whether or not he was joking. "Yeah, I'd hate that too."

"Don't worry, I've seen it in a movie before."

"Wait, what?" Sam looked at Dean, then turned to Andy. "Do you have a picture of Wendy, so we know who we're looking for?"

"In a shoebox in my closet."

Sam went into her bedroom to retrieve it and came back out with an old cardboard box. "Why don't you keep an album?" he asked and handed it to her.

She shrugged, "Just haven't bothered." Truth was she didn't like looking through the old pictures because they made her sad, but she wasn't going to toss them out. She dug through the box and handed him a picture of herself and Wendy from when they were in high school together nine years ago. "Okay, this probably isn't the best picture. I call this one 'the big laugh.'" Andy and Wendy were both laughing so hard they were squinty eyed and red faced in the photo.

Sam smiled and showed it to Dean. "Anything more recent?"

"Maybe on somebody's facebook, but I don't keep up with that stuff."

Dean looked at the picture, surprised at how different she looked when she was younger. "You're..."

"Nerdy looking?" Andy narrowed her eyes at him. "I was an ugly duckling. Took me a while to blossom."

He chuckled, "Cute... but I see the potential for her to go Hannibal Lector."

Andy snatched the picture from him and looked at it. "Because she's facing me with her mouth open?"

"I bet her vision tracks by movement too."

Andy laughed, "You're mean."

Sam nudged Dean, "Let's go."

Dean and Sam drove to Club Boogaloo and walked in through the front separately. It wasn't crowded yet as the doors just opened half an hour earlier, but it was also a Thursday. The floors were hardwood and the furniture a deep red that matched the walls. Even with the light pouring in through the glass double doors at the entrance, the club was dimly lit by gold tinted lamps. The bar was at the center of the establishment with booths and tables on the restaurant side. Dean took a seat at the center of the bar and ordered a drink while Sam took a look around. He didn't see anyone that resembled Wendy, but he noted the emergency exit at the back of the establishment beside the VIP section. He walked around the other side of the bar to find a dance floor and a booth for a DJ at the other end of the room. There was a hallway near him that lead to the restrooms and the kitchen. Behind the DJ's booth at the far end was another door that he guessed led to an office space or storage room.

After scoping the place out, Sam approached the bartender a few stools down from where Dean sat. "Excuse me, sir."

The bartender slung his towel over his shoulder and placed his hands on the counter. "What can I do for ya?"

Sam showed him his badge. "Do you know where I can find a Wendy Boudreau?"

He shrugged, "I don't know that name."

Sam looked him up and down, "Are you Luis?"

The man hesitated, "No, he's out sick."

He could tell he was lying. "The faster you come clean with me the faster I can get out of here."

Luis wiped at a wet spot on the counter and kept his eyes glued to it. "Don't know what you're talking about, sorry."

"Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. I'm pretty sure if I got a look at your I.D., I'd find out you were lying to me. I can drag you down to the station for questioning if-"

He relented with a heavy sigh, "Fine, I'm Luis. What do you want?"

Sam looked annoyed, having to repeat himself. "I've been told you used to date Ms. Boudreau. So, why don't you answer the question again."

He shrugged again, "Haven't seen her in weeks."

"Don't bullshit me, Luis. I'll charge you for obstruction of justice if you don't tell me where she is."

Dean butted in, "Hey, man, he said he doesn't know where she is."

Sam pursed his lips, giving Dean a snide look, "I don't believe I was talking to you."

"Yeah, well, you should quit harassing the guy!"

Sam looked back and forth between the two and fixed Luis with a look, "I'll be back." He walked back around the other side of the bar, and Luis watched him go into the hallway leading to the restrooms.

Luis sighed and threw his towel behind him, frustrated. "Thanks, man."

"No problem. I hate when cops try to give you that whole 'you're going to jail if you don't spill it' bit," Dean said, giving a look of disgust.

"It's a good thing you stepped in when you did though. Whew. I almost cracked."

"So you do know where she is? She must be some woman."

"Well, she is great in the sack," he smirked. "She's around here somewhere."

"Maybe you should tell her to lay low in a room out back until this guy leaves."

"I was just gonna do that," he said, pouring Dean another drink. "On the house."

Dean raised his glass, "Thanks." At the same time Luis texted Wendy, Dean texted Sam: Back room. I'll go outside and find the back door. He knocked back his drink before standing up and walking out.

Sam had already snuck behind the bar while Dean distracted Luis and was trying to pick the lock on the door to the office. The room was small with a red couch against the wall beside a small table with a tiffany lamp on top of it. On the wall adjacent to the couch was a desk with monitors showing live security camera footage, and across the room, in the corner on the floor, Wendy sat at a simple altar conjuring a spell. When she heard the door knob shake and the door open, she expected Luis to walk in. Sam took one look at the altar and aimed his gun at her. "Step away from the altar!"

Startled, Wendy stood up, raising her hands. She looked around as if she expected something to happen, and she felt her heart beat faster when nothing did. "Who are you and what do you want with me?!"

Sam took out his badge with his left hand and held it up for her to see. "I'm a police officer. Move away from the altar." He kept his gun trained on her as she moved away from the altar, and he approached it to take a closer look. He examined the symbols and contents surrounding the altar cloth to try to determine what she was casting or conjuring, but he wasn't entirely sure what he was looking at. He stomped the tea light candles out and rubbed his foot through the chalk on the floor.

"I haven't done anything!" While he was focused on her altar, Wendy ran for the backdoor leading to the side alley. She shoved the door open and ran smack into Dean.

"Well, that was easy," Dean said as he caught her and put her in a headlock. "Sammy! You okay!?"

Sam put his gun away and closed the door behind them. "I'm fine."

Wendy struggled, gripping his forearm against her throat, "Let go of me! You're not cops!"

"That's right, we're not cops," Dean said, dragging her with him to the back of the car.

When he opened the trunk, Wendy got a look at the weaponry in the false bottom. "Oh god, are you serial killers!?"

"What? No!" Dean grabbed the rope and shut the trunk. Sam opened the door to the backseat and Dean tossed her in, roughly bringing her hands behind her back and tying them together.

"Hey! Ow. What the hell!?" Wendy wriggled and writhed.

Sam kept watch. "Are we taking her to Andy's?"

Dean slapped some duct tape over her mouth. "Why not? Maybe Andy can talk some sense into this spell-casting psycho bitch."

Wendy gave him a muffled 'Fuck you.'

Sam nodded, "Yeah, I guess so. We'll be there, so I guess it's not like we're letting the devil loose in her living room."

"Besides, she can't do anything without an altar," Dean shrugged, shutting the car door. He opened his cell phone to call Andy as he walked around to the driver's side.

Andy woke up and fumbled for her phone, "Find her?"

"Yep, got her tied up in the backseat right now, and we're on our way there."

"Okay," Andy sat up and stretched. "By the way, I'm cooking dinner for you guys tonight."

"Oh yeah? Whatcha makin'?"

"Pot roast and biscuits. It's already in the oven."

Sam looked at him curiously, "Making?"

Dean grinned, "Dinner. Pot roast and biscuits. We better crack this witch fast."

"That does sound good."

"I'll see you soon," Andy smiled and hung up. Dean turned the ignition and pulled out of the alley to drive back to Andy's apartment.

"She won't stop kicking my seat," Sam said and looked back at Wendy who glared at him vindictively. "Cut it out."

"Just ignore it, Sammy." Dean felt Wendy headbutt the back of his seat. "HEY!" He looked over his shoulder at her, "If you don't behave yourself, we'll turn this car around and bury you out in the desert."

Sam thought that would be pretty out of the way considering where they were, but she actually stopped. When they pulled up to Andy's apartment building, Sam went around to the backseat and tried to help Wendy out, despite her going limp to try to make it more difficult.

Dean threatened, "Don't make me hogtie and carry you." She didn't budge. Dean exchanged looks with Sam. "You asked for it!" He grabbed another piece of rope from the car and hog tied her before picking her up off the ground and carrying her over his shoulder. "Please let the hallways be empty and the elevator working."

Sam checked to make sure the coast was clear and hit the elevator button. He heard someone coming and opened the door to the stairwell. "Someone's coming."

"I am NOT carrying her up these stairs!" Dean protested, stepping out of view of any passersby. Wendy squirmed and let out a muffled scream. "Hey, knock it off!"

When the coast was clear and the elevator doors opened, Sam held them for him. "Okay, hurry."

Dean quickly stepped into the elevator with her, letting the doors close on her head. "Whoops, haha, sorry about that." Wendy grunted and growled.

Sam gave Dean a look that said 'real mature' but smirked and pressed the button for the second floor.

Andy heard them coming and opened the door for them. Dean stepped over the salt line at the threshold and gave Andy a big grin when she looked at Wendy tied up over his shoulder. "She wouldn't cooperate," he said as he set her down on the couch.

Andy stared at him, "Wow. You know, when I talked about hog tying earlier, I was kinda joking."

Sam closed the door behind them. "We destroyed her altar, but that wouldn't stop the incubus she already summoned."

"Right..." Andy took a deep breath, reluctant to talk to Wendy, and ripped the tape off her mouth.

"OW!" Wendy cried, "What the hell!? Mind telling them to untie my legs so I can sit up!?"

Andy hesitated, "You're not going to try to run away, are you?"

"I don't think I would get far if I tried."

"Damn right you wouldn't," Dean interjected.

Sam untied her legs and said, impressed, "Dean, these are pretty good knots."

He smirked, "Thanks."

Wendy sat up, "Why did you send these goons to attack me?"

Dean exchanged incredulous looks with Sam and mouthed 'Goons?'

"They didn't attack you, they abducted you," Andy corrected her. "You attacked me."

"And we're not goons," Sam added defensively.

Wendy looked down at the floor and shrugged, "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Like hell you don't know!" Dean growled. Sam gave him a look, and he backed off before he really started to antagonize her.

"Wendy, somebody is dead because of what you did! Do you have any idea what kind of evil you're messing with?"

Wendy looked up at her, shocked, "What? No! I didn't mean to kill anyone."

Dean shook his head, "You're playing with stuff you can't even begin to understand."

Andy frowned, "Why did you do it?"

"You hurt me, Andy! You betrayed me and took away my boyfriend. It really hurt. I loved you! I respected you! I looked up to you!"

"If you love someone, aren't you supposed to let them go?" Dean curled his lip and interjected brusquely, "Not summon a goddamn incubus and unleash it on them."

Andy looked at Wendy earnestly, "I'm sorry."

Sam glanced at Dean, not sure Andy owed her an apology considering the circumstances.

Wendy confessed meekly, "I tried to make you come back to me... but I didn't mean for anyone to... die."

"How was putting everyone around me into comas supposed to make me come back to you?"

"'If I can't have you, no one can'?" Sam suggested.

"I thought you would seek my help..." Wendy looked up at her.

"Seek your help? Why would I think you could help me when I had no idea you were involved in the occult?"

"I missed you... We used to tell each other everything. I thought maybe you would think you couldn't talk to people about it because who would believe you? But you know I would."

Andy opened her mouth to speak, but she was speechless.

Sam furrowed his brow, "What were you doing when I walked in on you?"

Wendy looked at Sam, wringing her hands together, "I was trying to summon a succubus to take care of the guys in her classes..."

Dean took a step toward her, "Wait a minute. So you're telling me there's now an incubus and a succubus wandering around out there?"

"Yeah, but I didn't know they were draining people to death. I thought it would just make them really tired and need lots of sleep."

"Did you bind it to something?"

"No, I didn't get that far before I was interrupted."

Andy threw her hands up and stood, "Damn it, Wendy! What about me? Did you put a hex bag in my place?" She was livid and could feel a rush of adrenaline with her outrage. "I can't leave my apartment without being ghost raped in my car, so tell me what I need to burn to be free of this thing!"

Dean scowled, "Seriously, you are one sick puppy. You need help, and you're lucky I don't leave a smoking hole in your forehead."

"It wasn't supposed to be this way. It was just supposed to give you naughty dreams and make you feel tired!" Wendy scooted down the couch away from Dean. "I used your rare copy of Catcher in the Rye."

Andy's face went deadpan as she stared at Wendy, "Tell me you're joking." She stuck her arm out toward Dean. "Give me your gun!"

Sam stepped forward, "Whoa, whoa. She told you what it is."

"One of your books?" Dean raised an eyebrow and exchanged looks with Sam.

Andy could feel the tears welling up in her eyes and blinked them away, "It's not just a book. It's a first edition signed by J.D. Salinger! It was given to me by my dad."

Dean cringed, "Sounds expensive."

"Don't ask," Andy closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Dean opened his phone to look it up, and Andy groaned, "Why did you have to choose that, Wendy? Do you really hate me that much?"

"No..."

"Holy crap. Books cost that much?" Dean offered his gun to Andy as he showed the value on his cell screen to Sam. Sam gave him a sturgeon nod and pushed his arm down before Andy took the gun from him.

Wendy shrank in her seat, "Just destroy it and you'll get rid of the incubus."

Andy grumbled under her breath, 'I'll destroy you...' as she pulled the book from the top shelf. She opened it to smell the familiar old musty book scent she liked so much and hugged it to her chest. She needed to hold it together. She wasn't going to cry about it, not in front of them. "What if we sold it to some rich, snooty book collector and transferred the curse, then burned it?"

Wendy held a couch cushion in front of her. "Wouldn't work... I used your hair too..."

Andy stomped the floor, "You suck. You really, really suck. Who the hell thinks, 'let me curse the only thing in her house that is worth something'? Well, I guess that would make sense if you really wanted me to be miserable. But if you wanted me to like you, you couldn't have made a dumber choice."

Dean looked at Sam, "Is there any other way? Can't we just have this bitch summon the thing, and we banish it with one of dad's spells?"

Sam knit his brows, "I don't think it works that way. If we banish it, it'll just go back to its vessel. We'd need someone experienced enough to unbind it to banish it first. Spells like that take days. She'd be under house arrest, and this thing is already pretty strong. One slip up and she could be dead."

Andy sighed and quickly shoved the book into Sam's hands. "I can't watch. Get it over with."

Dean put his arm around her and gave her a hug. "It's gonna be alright."

Sam felt bad for her, but he took Dean's handheld torch and the book to the sink, lit it on fire, and dropped it into the sink to let it burn.

Andy whispered to herself unconvincingly, "Just a book, it's just a book..." She headbutt his shoulder lightly in frustration. "Today sucks." His arms around her distracted her a little bit from the smell of her prized possession burning away in her kitchen. "I guess on the bright side, I'm not cursed anymore... and you're here."

"What should we do with her?" Dean said, giving a nod toward Wendy, who had her face buried shamefully into the couch cushion.

Andy didn't want to look at her, but she asked, "Are you going to help us get rid of the succubus?"

"Yes... I can summon the succubus here, but I'm going to need someone to serve as a," she air quoted, "'victim.'"

"You mean you need bait?" Dean looked at her.

"Yes, and I'll need to make a new altar."

Dean shrugged, "Okay, I'll be the bait."

Andy looked at him, "Are you sure that's the only way?"

Sam turned the water on to wash out the sink and spoke over his shoulder, "Right now the succubus is weak and will only target someone in their sleep. That's why she didn't show up to attack me in the bar. I'm going to draw a pentagram under the bed, and I'll read the banishing spell when she shows up."

"Hey, look at it this way," Dean smirked at Andy, "we can have another thing in common after this."

"I need a strand of your hair," Wendy said, reaching up to pluck one from his head.

Dean gave her a dirty look that made her freeze and take a step back, "I didn't say you could do it yet." He looked confused as Andy pulled one out from the back of his head. "Ow." He looked at her, "You sneak attacked me."

"I pulled out your gray hair."

"You... wait, what? No way! Let me see it." Dean held her hand up to inspect it as he rubbed the back of his neck where she pulled it from.

"I'm kidding!" Andy chuckled and handed it to Wendy. "So, how about while Wendy gets her summoning on, I serve dinner?"

"Good idea. Put me into a food coma." Dean cast Wendy a sidelong glance and whispered to Andy, "But you sure we can leave her alone in there?"

Andy nodded, "Yeah. I don't think she meant to kill anyone, and she knows if she tries anything, she's got you to deal with."

"Because we could have Sam babysit her-"

Sam gave Dean a look.

"Nope, I want to feed you both. Now sit," Andy ordered, pointing at the dining table. They each took a seat at her seldom used dinner table while she removed the pot roast from the oven and put the biscuits in. She set the table and served them while Wendy built her altar in the bedroom on the floor using items from around the house.

"It disturbs me that I have everything she needs to build an altar," Andy said.

"To be fair, you don't really need much." Sam bit into a forkful of pot roast. "Mm, this is amazing. Thank you."

Dean grunted his agreement with a mouthful of biscuit. They were so used to eating food from convenience stores, truck stops, fast food joints, and diners that it had been months since they'd had a home cooked meal. When he finished, Dean leaned back in his chair, ready to loosen his belt a notch or two. "That was awesome. Now I'm ready for a nap."

"Can I keep you company for a while?" Andy asked, taking their plates to the sink.

"Sure, yeah," Dean said, standing up. He wasn't going to say no. He handed Sam his gun, walked into the bedroom, and looked at Wendy.

She looked back at him, "It's ready."

"Good. You should go wait in the other room," he said as he fell back on the bed and punched the pillow with his face to make it more comfortable.

Andy handed Sam the remote to the television. "If you want to watch TV while we wait."

"Thanks, but I'd rather look at your books," Sam said, taking the remote.

"Help yourself," Andy grinned. She walked into the bedroom, nearly bumping into Wendy on her way out. There was an awkward shuffle between them as they moved back and forth to pass one another. Andy froze and waved her past, "You can help yourself to leftovers if you're hungry."

"Thanks, Andy."

Andy kept the door to the bedroom open, just in case Dean was a light enough sleeper that opening it when she needed to could wake him up. She sat on the edge of the bed, wondering if he'd already fallen asleep. He was lying on his back with his hands tucked under the pillow behind his head with his eyes closed. Then, he opened one eye to peek up at her and smiled. "You're making me way too comfortable for someone about to offer his body up to a succubus."

"Oh, and here I was going to offer to give you a back massage."

Dean looked at her to judge whether or not she was joking and rolled over on his stomach. "I accept."

She helped him remove his jacket before she started kneading his shoulders and upper back, relaxing him so he felt like he was melting into the bed. After a few minutes, she whispered, "I'll keep watch and get Sam when she shows up."

He rolled over onto his back again and looked up at her through heavy lids, "Getting close but not quite there yet."

She smiled, "I know I'm probably keeping you from sleeping, but I haven't had much time to talk with you today." She massaged his neck and chest while she admired his kissable lips.

Dean pulled her over so she sat on his stomach and rested his hands on her thighs. "Then, let's talk."

"Wish we had the place to ourselves," she said, moving her hands back up to his shoulders to squeeze them. "I'm so relieved to be rid of that thing though. Even if it cost me." She leaned forward to kiss him.

He ran his hands up her back, holding her in place as he returned her kiss. "We'll kick those two out as soon as we banish this sucker."

"Okay. Then, I better let you try to sleep." She didn't want to take her hands off him, but she knew there was a chance she was waking him up rather than putting him down. She moved across the room to the chair in the corner and hung his jacket over the back of it.

"Time to get this shit done." Dean closed his eyes and tossed and turned until he found a comfortable enough position on his stomach with his face buried in the pillow as he hugged it.

Sam was reading one of Andy's books. Without looking up from it, he asked Wendy, "Have you read these?"

"Yep, it's pretty hot," she answered, eating leftover pot roast. "Wait until you get to the naughty parts."

Sam raised an eyebrow at her, "In a werewolf book?"

"Oooh yeah... Just keep reading. It's pretty cool even without the steamy parts. What kinds of books are you into?"

He shrugged, "I like reading a little bit of everything, always want to learn something new. I liked classic lit alright."

"Classic lit? That's kinda hot. In a strange way." She grinned, "Talk nerdy to me."

"Uh..." Sam looked like he was trying to process how to approach this situation and hoped he didn't put himself on her radar. He gave his attention back to the book in his hands.

After almost half an hour, Andy could tell Dean had finally fallen asleep. She waited for the succubus to come, and she knew when it happened by the lamplight's flicker. She stood up beside the bed and watched Dean's eyelids twitch as he entered REM. When the sheets pressed into the bed around him, she tiptoed out to the hallway and waved Sam over. He grabbed his dad's journal and walked into the room with her. "I don't see it," he whispered.

"It's here."

The succubus was beginning to drain him and started to take shape as a hazy mist above him. The sigil under the bed couldn't prevent her from using her power, but it bound her there so she couldn't leave.

Sam quickly flipped to the page he'd marked and read the banishment ritual. "Jam tibi impero et præcipio maligne spiritus! ut confestim allata et circulo discedas, absque omni-" Dean let out a happy noise that made Sam lose his focus for a moment. "-strepito, terrore, clamore et foetore, asque sine omni damno mei tam animæ quam corporis, absque omni læsione cujuscunque creaturæ vel rei; et ad locum a justissimo tibi deputatum in momento et ictu oculi abeas; et hinc proripias."

The succubus panicked during his incantation but couldn't escape the confines of the circle drawn out beneath the bed. When he'd finished reading the ritual, she began to vibrate and dissipate. The lights in the room flickered as her energy surged before she disappeared. Wendy, who watched from the doorway, looked at them wide-eyed, "That was cool."

Sam turned to look at her, "Don't go casting any more spells or summoning any more evil entities."

Dean sat up and stretched, "Or we will find you."

Wendy looked at her feet again, "I won't."

Dean looked at them, "I didn't say anything embarrassing, did I?"

Andy grinned, "Nah."

Sam looked at Dean, "I'm going to take Wendy home. Should I come back...?" He knew the answer before he asked.

"No, go ahead and go back to the motel."

"I'm sorry, Andrea," Wendy looked at her.

Andy shrugged, "I can't forgive you. But I can agree to leave on amicable terms if you can."

"Yeah... okay." She went to wait by the front door.

Dean warned Sam, "Don't let her get a hold of any of your belongings or your hair."

Sam nodded, "This girl gives me the heebie jeebies."

Andy added, "And you're definitely her type."

Dean grinned, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do. Really."

Sam rolled his eyes, "See you in the morning. Oh, Andrea, do you mind if I borrow your werewolf book?"

"You can have it." She went over to the bookshelf in the front room and inscribed in the front cover: Forgive the discrepancies in the lore! Thank you, Sam, for all your help. Take care of yourself and Dean. If you ever need anything, I'll do what I can for you! -Andrea.

"Thanks," he smiled and opened the cover to read it when she handed it to him.

Wendy frowned, "I still have your vampire novel, where you wrote to me that we'd be old friends having wheelchair races at the nursing home."

Andy sighed, "Well... I can't predict the future. A lot has happened since then."

Sam smirked because he could imagine having wheelchair races with Dean. But he imagined Dean would cheat and put his cane through the spokes of his chair to slow him down. "Good night, Andy."

Dean was surprised they weren't having wheelchair races already.

"Night." She closed the door behind them after they left. She leaned against the bedroom doorway and she smiled at Dean lying in her bed.

"So, where did we leave off?"

She walked over, taking off her shoes, socks, and pants on her way to the bed, then climbed on top of him to straddle his waist again. "I was giving you a shoulder massage."

"Actually, I believe we were..." he placed his fingertips against her thighs and moved his hands up over her back as he pulled her down into a kiss, "doing this."

The next morning around eight o'clock, Sam called Dean. He reached up for his phone on the headboard, his eyes still closed. "What?"

"We have a job in Montana. Just got a call from a 'family friend.' We need to get going."

Dean became alert and started to sit up, but Andy was resting on his chest. "Now?"

"The sooner the better. I'm checking out of the motel right now, and I'll be on my way in a few minutes."

"Alright," he sighed and hung up, then looked down at Andy as she started to wake up. "Mind if I take a quick shower? Sam's on his way over."

She rolled off him and stretched, "Go ahead. I'll put on my pajamas." After taking his shower, Dean met Andy in her living room, where she was sipping a cup of coffee. She felt anxious, "You're leaving, aren't you?"

His phone went off with another guitar riff, and he answered Sam, "I'll be down in a minute."

"I'll walk you," Andy said, setting her cup down on the coffee table. She handed him his duffle bag.

"I didn't expect us to have to go so soon."

She closed the door to her apartment behind them and walked with him down the hall to hit the elevator button. The doors opened and they stepped inside, the G button already aglow even though they were alone. "Well, this week has been quite the adventure for me. I'm guessing it's just a usual workday for you."

"How are you feeling about all this? It's not weirding you out knowing all this crap is real? It can be a lot to take in in such a short time."

"I already believed in spirits and demons, so it's not like my whole world has been shattered. The werewolves are a bit of a surprise though."

"I'm glad you're adjusting well, and I don't have to worry about you losing it," he said, walking out with her as the elevator doors slid open.

She stopped at the curb where Sam had parked the impala and hesitated, "I saw the mileage on your car. You're on the road a lot, don't really get to stick around in one place for too long, right?"

"There's always someone somewhere who needs our help. We don't get a lot of down time."

"Must meet a lot of girls..." She bit her lip as he looked at her apprehensively, like he was sure he was treading dangerous waters by saying anything in response. She continued, glancing at Sam through the back window, as she rocks on her heels, "I was just wondering... if I'd see you again after this."

Dean opened the trunk, blocking Sam from view. "I'd like to see you again, but..." he sighed, "this job takes us all over the country." He remembered Cassie saying she didn't see much of a future between them and knew that was a realistic point of view. It was because of his lifestyle. He set the bag down in the trunk. "You wouldn't want to wait around for me anyway, trust me."

She stepped off the curb and took his hand, looking down at it. "I dated a marine once. I don't mind the wait if it's worth it. I think you are." She looked up at him, hoping he might change his mind.

He smiled, but he was concerned. "You think it would work? Marines... they're back home on a schedule."

"We won't know unless we try. Until I see you again, we have phones and email. I just... hope you wouldn't turn to the Tammys of the world while you're out there."

He smirked, "So, you're asking me to be your boyfriend?"

She swallowed hard, feeling rather silly for asking, considering they'd only met two days ago. But she really liked him, and she'd never had a one night stand before.

"Okay." Dean studied her, "I like you. I mean, I like-like you."

She chuckled, "Good. I like-like you too. And if you didn't check yes, then I'd have been the laughing stock of the schoolyard."

He closed the trunk with a grin, "Nah. Everyone would probably tease me for being a complete idiot if I passed you up."

"Yeah, definitely." She hugged him and kissed his cheek, relieved he didn't reject her.

He hugged her back, "We're going to Minnesota. I'll update you if we end up heading in another direction."

"Okay."

He gave her one more kiss on the lips before she took a step back to let him go. She waved at Sam who was watching them in the rearview mirror, and he raised his hand back in acknowledgment. "Be safe out there."

He winked, "That's me." He walked around to the passenger side and stuck his hand out the window with a wave goodbye as they drove off.