I don't own Winchester related items. BUT I do own everything else, and I'm very happy about that.

Okay, so this is somewhat of an expierement. After dealing with Sam centered fics for a bit I thought I should let Dean have his turn. I'm still going to work on my other stuff (how could I forget it?!), but I'm kinda branching out. At least, I'm trying to. It's kind of weird writting in his POV sometimes (he's so different from Sam...obviously) so I'm not sure how this is going to come out. For now, it's a short thing. If you want more simply send me a nice little review. Or, if you think I should just put it out of its misery, send me a not so nice review. Either way, I'm sticking to my guns on this: No reviews. No more. Thanks ever so much! OH, and I realize that the majority of this isn't in Dean's POV, but it's needed. You'll understand if I get to continue this fun little fic!

The bar reeked of stale beer and cigarette smoke, but she ignored it. She had a job to do. With an ominous creak the door swung open revealing faces familiar and strange alike. So many people stopped through here on their way to some bigger and brighter destination. It kept her attentive, and, with her easily bored personality, that was a good thing.

Heads turned as she strutted up to the bar, brought out of their drunken stupor by the clicking of her heels on the hardwood floor and the air of regality she seemed to radiate. It was no question they all wanted her. That's what she was counting on. She just hoped that the man that had the audacity to approach her was the one she wanted. He was there, watching her along with the rest of them, his head cocked to the side. Interest was obvious in his blue eyes, but desire? It was too soon to tell. Quickly, she broke her gaze and stared straight ahead.

Taking a seat at the bar, she nodded at the bartender and it wasn't long until a beer was placed in front of her. The bartender stayed for a moment, trying to coax a smile out of her, a little flirtation too, but she kept her attentions with the blue eyed man, and soon the bartender grew frustrated and went on to an easier target allowing her to sip the alcohol in private.

A cold wind scraped across the back of her exposed neck. She slowly turned her head in the direction of the open door and watch two men slink in. Their shoulders were dusted in snow that quickly ran into rivulets down their arms as the heat of the room permeated their skin. They were new. And they were worried. About what, she couldn't agonize with. She had bigger plans tonight.

"What's a pretty little innocent like you doing here all alone?" The voice was deep and seductive. Exactly what she wanted to hear.

She glanced over her should, and was met with a set of clear blue eyes. Perfect. "Hoping to not be alone for much longer." She lowered her voice a pitch. She wanted him close. She wanted to be able to see the freckles in those crystal eyes.

The man let his gaze travel the neckline of her black sweater. His eyes dipped low and slowly moved back up, momentarily resting on her collar bones, the base of her throat, the side of her neck, until they finally met hers again. "Looks like your hopes have reason to quail."

"Oh?" She grinned slyly. He needed to invite her to wherever he called home. That was where she needed to be.

He held out a hand. "Why don't you come with me?"

Play, she reminded herself. He won't go through with it if you don't make it worth his while. "I don't know." She crossed her legs, making sure his attention was on the exposed flesh, "My momma always told me not to leave with a stranger."

A hint of irritation flashed across his face. He wasn't used to having his food play with him. "What are strangers but friends you haven't met yet?"

"Potential enemies." She kept a close eye on his features. It wouldn't work if she pushed him too hard.

"Come." He took her hand and easily pulled her out of her seat. "You won't regret it."

"That's not what I worry about." She stood her ground.

"Then what is it that concerns you?" His voice was a bit harsher, but still coated in a sticky sweet substance.

With her infamous grin back on her lips she put her hands on his chest and leaned close to him. "I fear," she whispered, her lips slightly grazing his ear, "that you'll regret it."

She heard him take a deep breath, and she didn't move a muscle. "You must come." He whispered back. "You must."

A laugh almost escaped her lips. She had won. "Well, when you put it like that how can I say no?" With his arm around her waist she let him lead her outside. Voices were coming from the alley. So they all were here. There wouldn't be a need to even leave the bar. It was her lucky night.

"A quick stop," he said leading her around the building. But she was expecting this.

Four faces met them as they rounded to corner to the alley. Funny, she thought there was another. As the stepped closer to the tiny coven, her escort broke his grip on her and went to stand next to the others.

"So glad you decided to join me," he said sweetly, "I hate a fight."

"Well," she said reaching for the top of her boot. Her fingers grazed cool metal and she pulled a slim blade out of the shoe. "That's just too damn bad." With one swing she had beheaded three of the five. Her blue eyed target included. The two survivors quickly realized the reality of the situation and began advancing on her. As she swung at one, the other reached up and snatched the blade from her hand. "That's mine," she growled as they backed her into a corner. Neither answered, instead identical smiles grew on their faces. In seconds a second set of teeth had appeared in both.

Suddenly, the swish of a knife blade cut through the air. And through both necks of her attackers. "No!" she cried as the two heads hit the hard ground. She glared up at the new arrivals without bothering to mask her rage. It was the two worried strangers from the bar. Not that it mattered. Strangers or no, they had easily managed to ruin everything she had worked for. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" she hissed.

The two seemed taken aback. "Saving your ass it seemed like," the shorter of the two snapped.

"I had it under control." She said the words slowly. The situation was really too much. She had been working this job for weeks now, and they manage to ruin it in one swing.

"Yeah. It looked like that from our side, too." He glared right back at her.

"For your information, that was the plan!" Her voice was rising, "I needed those two alive!"

"You know what they were?" the other man asked.

She looked up. He stood at least six three with eyes and hair a dirty brown color. "Yes, and I'm assuming you did too." She glanced back at the headless corpses. They were slowly decomposing. Both would be gone by the time the sun came up. Probably right along with the remaining coven. "Damn." She muttered. Pushing past the two she headed towards her car. She needed a new plan.

"Wait," the shorter one called. "Where are you going?"

"What's it to you?" They were not helping themselves. If they wanted to stay alive they should really get out of her sight. Control was not her forte, and right now she wanted to hurt something. Desperately.

"You know you could say thank you." He followed her, "After all, we did stop them from making you the main course."

"No," she turned on her heel and came face to face with him, "Actually you didn't."

"What do you mean?" He asked not backing down.

"I just killed the head of their pathetic pack. They wouldn't have done anything to me without consulting his mate first. I needed them to take me to her. I needed to find out where the nest is. And now thanks to you, I'm probably not ever going to find out!" She knew she was yelling, and she knew it was inappropriate, but damn it all to hell if she wasn't going to murder him!

"What about your sword?" He challenged. Going in weaponless? Not smart."

"Dean," the taller one interrupted, "she wasn't going in without anything."

Dean turned to stare, "What?"

"Observant," she said. She reached down and unbuckled the belt that circled her waist. When she pulled it out of the loops of her skirt and held it up to the light, it was easy to see the jagged edge. "I'm not an idiot," she told Dean before resuming her trek.

"Who the hell are you, then?" He yelled after her.

She stopped and turned around for the last time, giving them her full attention and making sure she had theirs. "Chastity. Chastity Stone. Chase for short." She paused, waiting for a joke. None came.

The tall one eased up to her. "Sam Winchester. This is my brother Dean."

"You're the famed Winchester brothers?" She laughed, "I've got to admit, I was expecting better. I guess your father's talent wasn't genetic."

"You know our father?" Sam asked.

"Met him once. About two months ago. The man's a legend. How is he anyway?"

The question was met with obvious depression. "He died about a month ago."

"Oh." Her mood went from bad to worse. "Well," she said finally. "He was a great hunter. It happens." A sudden gust of icy wind hit the back of her legs. She shivered and resumed her path to her car.

"It does," Dean muttered under his breath. "Hey," he yelled a little louder, "Are you interested in help?"

"Dean!" Sam scolded, "What about-"

"Shut up, Sammy." The fog of his words carried to her. "So?"

Chase debated. On the one hand it would be beneficial to have help from two experienced hunters. Especially two that were spoken so highly of. But, on the heavier hand, they did cause her slight dilemma in the first place.

"Well?"

The second draft of wind made her decision. "Follow me. I'm starting tonight." Without waiting for an answer, she made her way into her car. Basking in the heat flowing through the tiny compartment, she sighed. Oh well, better to have him close if she decided to murder him. She hunted enough as it was.

XxXxX

"Why?" Sam bombarded his brother the second the car door shut behind him. "Why did you offer to help her?"

"We did mess things up for her. It's the least we could do." He groped around for his keys. He eventually found them and soon the sounds of AC/DC could be heard in the background.

"Bull. It's another girl you think you can screw around with," Sam reprimanded. "Are you forgetting that we have a case to work? Or was that skirt exactly what it took to fry what brain you have left?"

Dean peered through the thickening snow. "First of all," he replied calmly, "I don't think I can screw around with her. I know I can screw around with her. Secondly, I haven't forgotten why we're here, but until tomorrow night there won't be anyway werewolves to waste. Finally, it wasn't the skirt."

A sharp turn threw Sam against the freezing window. "Then what was it?"

Shaking his head, Dean glanced at his younger sibling. "It was everything, dude. It was everything."

XxXxX

Chase fit the old-fashioned key into its corresponding lock. "Try not to mess anything up," she told her accomplices as she flipped the light switch. The room was basked in a warm glow. She stepped through the door frame and hung her jacket neatly on its hook.

The apartment was big and open. It mimicked the style of a New York loft, just less expensive since South Carolina certainly wasn't New York. Chase quickly scanned the room for anything incriminating, and then, finding nothing but a little dust on top of the refrigerator, folded herself onto the big, green couch in the center of the room.

"Alright," she said as she unzipped the side of her thigh high boots, "Everything I know about the coven is right there," she nodded at a large bulletin board. "I've got the victims, the players, and the history. What I don't have, obviously, is the location."

The boys leafed through all the pictures and notes on the board. It took some time, but finally Dean spoke up, "There's a pattern to the death sites."

"Around the bar." Chase messaged her throbbing calves. Mental note to self, no more four inch stilettos. "I thought that might be the nest. After all, what better place for people who love night life and love to drink, but no. It didn't take long after that disappointment to find that the bar was just a hunting ground. Nothing more." She stood and stretched her arms over her head. Dean's eyes immediately snapped to her exposed midriff. "I'm going to change," she decided, "When I get back, I'll start coffee."

"Coffee?" Sam looked up from an article he was scanning.

"Yes, love. Coffee. The lovely little liquid that seems to be savior to life itself." She laughed, "You really didn't expect this thing to go by quickly, did you?" Still laughing she glided up the steps to the second story. "Because it most certainly isn't going to," she continued leaning over the balcony railing. "These aren't your average camp out in an abandon barn vamps."

"Really." Sam replied, "I haven't known any different."

"You must not get out much." She pushed off the rail and headed out of sight. Stupid boys, always thinking they know everything there is to know about everything.