The gravel scattered across the road less traveled crunched under the tires of the Impala as the car rolled to a stop. The warehouse looked to be abandoned for years. Bottles and various trash scattered haphazardly around the unkept grounds. The cloudless sky allowed the full moon to illuminate the building in an ominous glow. The only thing out of place in this wasteland was a big, newish truck.
"Why is it that when someone meets a violent death local kids want to 'brave' the crime scene?" He even used quotations. He wiped a strand of brown hair from his eyes and surveyed the building.
"Asshats," was the only reply the other man had. They both shook their heads and exited the vehicle. Each man circled their side of the car and met at the trunk. Dean opened it. Sam lifted the lid on the secret compartment. Dean propped it with a shotgun and they loaded up.
"So, you're sure the lone wolf is here," Dean asked, gripping the shotgun, as they headed to the front of the car. Sam was the research man. And as long as he was sure, Dean was sure.
"Only place it could be." Sam's reply was confident, and Dean smiled and cocked his head as they stopped at the front of the car. "Let's kick some ass," he said cocking the gun and passing a glance at his brother. Sam nodded and moved toward the building instep with the older man.
Just then glass shattered and they watched as a figure flew from the second story window, as if doing a cannonball into the adjacent marsh. The figure sprawled, mid air, and spun. Just as its hands went up in front of it another figure followed, arms wide, gaping mouth. Then two gunshots rang out, the second figure flailed and went limp. The first figure hit the brackish water moments before the second. Then all was quiet.
Both boys eyebrows knitted together and their mouths hung open silently. They glanced at each other.
"What the hell was that?" Dean asked dubiously. Sam hitched his step and jogged to the bank of the wetland, Dean close on his heels. They came through the brush just in time to see someone walking out of the water, guns still up.
"I figured there was just one wolf. I can take two more." It was an unfamiliar voice. Sam held up his hands in a gesture to mean no harm. He noted the armor on her shins and forearms.
"We're not wolves, Laura Croft, we're hunters. And you stole my kill," Dean's voice was agitated. Sam glanced at him, trying to get his attention. His brother noticed, but didn't look.
"Anyone can say they are hunters. How do I know for sure?" Her voice was smooth and calm. A confidence in it you only got from being good at what you do.
Sam held up his gun and opened his jacket. Dean threw his hands up in exasperation at his brothers willingness to show his hand. "What the hell, Sam!" She looked over Sam's gear, the moon providing more than enough light. She nodded, someone only armed themselves like that if they fought monsters.
"C'mon Dean, she's obviously a hunter. We're on the same side." Dean huffed again. Then waved his shotgun in front of him, earning a smirk from the new girl. Then then pulled back both flaps of his jacket and spun in a circle.
"Cute dance," she said lowering her weapons. She straightened her posture. "Sorry about your kill. Early bird and what not." She shrugged a shoulder and sauntered past them, her watery boots squishing with each step. Her black clothing would have clung to her if she were dry. She wasn't thin, but her curvy figure was clear in her attire.
Dean scoffed, his mouth hanging open, Sam gave him a look, asking for him to keep his cool, then turned to follow her. "So, you're a hunter?" He asked. It wasn't every case they ran into anyone else. And a woman no less.
"Not really," she replied, not turning to look at him. Dean had fallen instep with Sam, and rolled his eyes.
"Uh, ok," Sam stuttered, "Who are you?" He was a little put off by her nonchalant attitude and her mysterious demeanor.
She pulled down the tailgate on the truck and stepped into the bed, sitting down to take off her boots. "Laura," she said looking at Sam, then her gaze fell on Dean, "Laura Croft." Sam closed his eyes.
"Alright, lady, listen. I am not sure what's going on here, I mean you clearly know what you're doing. That window thing? Insane. But enough with all the cryptic bull shit. We know every hunter in the area, who are you?" Dean had his legs spread, his chest out and his hands on his hips. Sam could only think of a posturing gorilla.
"I'm just passing through," she said standing. Then she turned to the tool box bolted to the bed of the truck and opened the lid with a key from around her neck. Dean made a face at Sam he had never seen before. A mix of anger and confusion. They turned back to the girl to find her topless and pulling off her sopping pants.
"Oh, uh. Alright, sorry," Sam covered his face and turned his back. Dean dropped his jaw, furrowing his eyebrows. "Sam!" He yelled gesturing to the now naked woman. She pulled out dry clothes, dressed, and closed the lid. She left the wet things to tend to later and jumped out of the bed, closing the door.
"It's been fun boys. I'll be at the dive in town, I need to blow off some steam. Buy you a drink later? To show no hard feelings." Then she went to her driver door, got in, and revved it up. The boys, were literally, left in her dust. As the dust settled Dean turned to his brother.
"What the fuck was that, Sam?" Sam already knew it was rhetorical. Dean didn't know what to say. Of all the crazy, strange, scary things they'd seen this one had him speechless. Sam couldn't stop the corners of his mouth from twitching, he started back to the car. Dean followed, no giddy up in his step.
"I guess you're just 'dust in the wind', Dean."
Dean lunged for Sam, "shut the fuck up Sammy." But Sam dodged and moved out of reach. Dean grumbled the entire time they'd packed their things, and most of the ride back to the hotel.
Dean walked into the third bar this evening. It was an hour till close, and he and Sam hadn't found her yet. Then there she was at the bar, alone. Dean waited at the door for Sam. And he told himself it wasn't because she intimidated him. Sam followed not long after and Dean pointed her out. They picked a table near the pool table, and watched.
A waitress come by with a couple shots, and set them down. "Hey, Doll, we haven't ordered yet," Dean grinned up at the blonde. She smiled back, tucking some hair behind her ear.
"From the woman at the bar," she drawled. "Can I get you anything else?" Both men jerked to look at the bar. She held up her own shot, downed it then got up and went into the bathroom.
"Uh, beer," Sam said when Dean just stared at the shot. She nodded and left. Dean looked up at Sam, and shrugged, downing the shot and watching the door. Sam slid his to Dean.
"When she comes out we go talk to her," Dean said downing the other shot. Sam shook his head.
"Why Dean? She seems to be doing fine. She's not interested in talking, let's just drop it." The blonde was back with two bottles of beer. She lingered for a moment then, when she got no attention from Dean, wandered off.
"No, we are not going to drop this, Sam," Dean exaggerated his brothers name. "Who does that, that, window thing? Hunters talk, Sam, why have we never heard of her?" Sam shrugged. "You're so helpful," Dean muttered, sipping his beer. He was still watching the door.
"Okay, do you think someone who could do that window thing would still be in the bathroom?" Dean's blank face froze on Sam, and he jumped from the table and hustled to the ladies room, finding it empty.
"Damn!"
The older man sighed and scratched at the hair on his chin. He shuffled through some papers, pulling one from the middle to place on top, then set the stack down. He leaned back in his chair with a huff and covered his face with his hands. Any second his phone would-
Then the phone was buzzing.
"'Ello," he said sitting up straighter. The voice on the other end didn't seem as tired as it was the last time he'd heard it.
"Hey, Bobby, got anything good?" Sam's voice was calm and strong. It lifted Bobby's heart a little. He had been running himself ragged to track this case for the boys.
"Not much more than last week. I got a few sightings, no one seems to know her name or where she came from. And when you saw her, a couple months ago, was the last time she was seen," he checked his papers as he spoke, to be sure about the information.
"Do the sightings have dates and locations?"
"Of courses, Sam, what kind of half assed information post you think I'm running here?" Sam paused, not sure what to say. He heard Bobby let out a tired sigh. "Sorry, boy. There's a lot going on."
Sam shook his head, then realized Bobby couldn't see. "It's no problem," he said, "get it to me whenever." Bobby agreed and they hung up. Just as Sam put the phone down Dean joined him at the little table in the diner. Sam had a cup of coffee waiting for him. He wrapped his fingers around the hot mug and leaned in to inhale the steam coming off the brew. He closed his eyes and groaned deeply.
"Yeah, ok. Bobby is gonna send me stuff on when and where she's been spotted, but he says it's not much. Dean nodded, sipping his brew.
"I am so over this little bitch," he sighed into his cup. Hangovers were beginning to be more trouble than they were worth.
"I'm not sure why you let her get to you. She seems harmless, to people at least," Sam was more interested in getting back to the job, full time.
They ate their breakfast slowly as Sam checked the news. His computer dinged, indicating an email. His attention stayed on his omelette as he moved to the email. He scanned over half before he decided he needed to pull up a map. He had one on the screen in seconds, went back to the top of the email, and started pinning every location and date she was seen.
Sam took the last bite of his breakfast as he pinned the last location. Then he sat back sipping his coffee and staring at the screen. Dean was finishing his pie, motioning at the waitress to his empty coffee cup. Sam squinted at the little red dots. He could feel something in the data, just couldn't get it yet.
"Are we going to sit here all day? Know where she is yet?" Dean's impatience startled Sam out of his thoughts, but it was nothing new. Sam closed his computer and scooched out of his side of the booth. Dean clasped his hands and followed, a wicked smile on his face.
Dean sped down the road, windows down and Kansas bound. Sam was filing through emails and typing quickly on his keypad. His fingers suddenly came to a stop and he stared, hard. He swiped a hand through his hair and sighed, looking at his brother.
"Dean, we need to stop," he kept his eyes locked on the driver, trying to convey importance. Dean glanced back, his smile sinking at the intensity of Sam's gaze.
"What's up, Sammy?" He asked turning down the music. Sam motioned to the computer. "I need to show you this." Dean pulled the car to the shoulder and reached for the computer, Sam jerked it back and turned it toward him. Dean tilted his head and shot Sam a look, but didn't argue.
"This is where she's been seen. We have to assume she just hasn't been seen anywhere else, there's no way she's that good with little practice," Sam motioned to the dots scattered all over the US map. Dean nodded.
"Ok, I can see that. What's so big about these points?"
Sam looked at him for a second, his eyebrows down. "Dean, do you notice anything about these places? These dates?" Dean squinted, and slowly shook his head.
"Ok," Sam sighed, "this one, Mobile in January. We were there 2 weeks before. The next one, Savannah in March, we were there 10 days before. This other one, we were supposed to take that job, but passed it to Rufus."
Dean stared at the screen for a bit longer. "What the fuck, Sam! She's stalking us? This is un-fucking-believable!" He stormed out of the car, continuing his ramble, kicking dust and pointing at Sam. Sam pulled his phone out to call Bobby.
"Nothing new, Sam."
"Yeah? I got something. Did you notice anything strange about the dates on her sightings?"
"Something bothers me about 'em, but I couldn't put my finger on it." Sam could just see him sitting up in his chair. He glanced out the windshield at Dean, still pitching a fit.
"She's following us, Bobby."