Author's Note: This is my first Supernatural FanFic, so no getting snippy with the reviews. And Flames help no one. I won't write better because of them. In fact, I will probably write worse on purpose just to piss off whoever wrote the flame.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, Sam or Dean Winchester or Bobby. I only own the girl. If I owned the Winchester boys, I would be doing other things with my time, if you catch what I'm saying...

Sam woke to the sound of a phone ringing. He groggily pawed around the nightstand in between the two full beds in the decrepit motel room. The side of his hand connected with a buzzing, moving rectangle and he attempted to grab hold of it. Instead he succeeded in knocking it to the floor. "Dammit," he muttered as he heard the phone hit and break into pieces. He rolled onto his back and pushed himself up to rest on his hands. Turning on the flickering lamp, he kicked his legs over the side of the bed and his left foot landed on a piece of the phone. Looking down he saw the face-plate. He picked it up and got on all fours to find the rest of the phone. After a few minutes he found all the pieces except the most crucial. "Always the battery," he muttered to himself. Finally he found it, halfway under the bed. He stretched his long arms to the fullest and was only a few inches short. He cursed under his breath as he tried to stretch his fingers the remaining inches. This is how Dean found him, his head, arm and the top left half of his torso under the bed, muttering to himself like a crazy person.

Dean kicked the door to let it slam shut behind him, causing Sam to jump and shout more curses. "What the hell are you doin', Sammy?" Sam pushed himself from under the bed and sat against the nightstand, rubbing at the knot that was forming at the base of his skull.

"I dropped my phone and it broke. The battery is still under the bed," he explained.

"So you thought you would just reach your freakishly long arms under the bed and reach it that way, when you could just as easily have done this?" Dean kicked at the bed and moved it over so that he could bend down and reach the battery. He picked it up and held it out to his brother. When Sam reached for it, he snapped his hand back and put the battery in his shirt pocket.

"Dean, what the hell? Give it back!" Sam shouted as his brother have a sardonic laugh and walked to the small kitchenette in the room, deposited the six pack he just purchased. "Dean," Sam said with a falsely calm tone and came to stand behind the hunched over form that was his brother. "Give it back," he said, voice shaking, and held out his hand for the battery.

"Nah-uh," he said simply. "If you're to stupid to have gotten the thing from under the bed then you don't deserve it."

"Someone was calling me, Dean. What if they try and call back? What if it was important," he tried to reason. His brother took one of the beers out of the fridge and popped the cap off, took a deep pull from the bottle. He shook his head.

"It was Bobby. He wants us to go and pick up his niece." Dean shrugged.

"Bobby's got a niece?" Sam was flabbergasted. They never heard a word about Bobby having a niece in all the years they had known him. "Where?"

Dean gave Sam a smile to show his amusement as he said, "County jail. Picked up on an assault charge," he explained and took another pull from his beer.

"And we're supposed to do what? Bail her out?"

"No, let her rot for the rest of her life." Sam raised his brows. "Yes, we bail her out! Stupid," he added under his breath.

"What was that," Sam asked and took a threatening step toward his brother.

"I said get dressed. Unless you want to go in your Pjs?" Sam sighed as he walked to his duffel and pulled out a set of clothes.

Ten minutes later they were on the road to the jail and another fifteen found them pulling into the parking lot. "So, what are we? Detectives from another state, looking to get her on another, more pressing charge?"

"We aren't anything. I am going to bail her out, you are going to stay here." Dean looked about to object when Sam explained. "You had that beer in the room, your breath smells like it, they won't let you have her." Dean let out a huff.

"Fine, but make it snappy!" Sam rolled his eyes and got out of the car, letting the door slam behind him. "Hey, easy on the car. Asshole," he muttered.

Sam walked into the jail and came back fifteen minutes later with a small girl with dark hair and milky white skin. He opened the door for her and she slid smoothly into the backseat. She sat with a smug smile as she fingered a blood stain on her white camisole. She looked up to see Dean watching her out of the rear-view mirror. "What." she asked innocently. Dean shook his head and started the car, backed out of the parking space. They road for a few miles with nothing but the radio to keep them from total silence.

"So, you're Bobby's niece, huh," Sam asked, trying to make conversation. She nodded, a calculating look on her face.

"Yeah, for the last nineteen years," she said coolly. Sam gave a nervous laugh. "Thanks for coming to get me, by the way," she said with a small smile.

"No problem," Dean said easily. He gave her a smile through the mirror and she nodded, turned back to Sam.

"I hope you guys didn't go through any trouble."

"Nah, it was fine, really. Besides, you're practically family. Family sticks together," Sam assured her. He noticed her frown in the mirror. "What's wrong?" He turned to look at her fully. She shrugged and shook her head. She leaned forward to speak to Dean.

"If you turn here, we can get to my car," she said and pointed to the left. Dean nodded and turned left at the red light. He continued to follow her directions until they came to a shady looking bar. He pulled into a parking spot and turned to speak to her.

"Where are you stayin'? We'll follow you, make sure you don't get into any more fights." He winked at her scowl.

"I'm staying with a friend. It's a five minute drive, I'm sure I can handle it," she said as she climbed out of the car and slammed the door behind her.

"Easy," he called after her and she gave a dismissive wave over her shoulder. They watched her disappear down an alley and Sam turned to his brother.

"What are we gonna do? Follow her?" Dean nodded.

"We didn't bail her out for her to get herself into more trouble, did we?" Sam shook his head and turned to watch the entrance to the alley. A few moments later they heard the roar of an engine and saw head lights. A second later a fiery red muscle car came barreling out of the alley like a bat out of Hell. Sam caught a glimpse of milky white skin through the open window and nodded to Dean that it was her. Dean put the car in gear and took off after her.

They followed her past the road to their own seedy motel and through some of the more less respectable parts of the town. After about twenty minutes they saw the red of brake lights and pulled over to the side of the road behind her. She got out the car, leaving the engine running and the door wide open, walked to Dean's side of the Impala and knocked on the window, hard. Dean rolled his down and smiled up at her innocently. "Something wrong, officer," he asked.

"What do you think you're doing?" She crossed her leather clad arms across her narrow chest and stood straight as a rod.

"Just making sure you don't get into anymore trouble, like I said I was gonna do." Her face remained blank as she leaned into the open window and got into his face.

"Go back to your motel and leave me alone. I don't want to see anything but tail lights out of you again." Her voice was deadly calm and her face showed no emotion whatsoever but he could detect the hint of a threat.

"And if I don't?" He quirked an eyebrow. A second later he heard the unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked from behind the cover of the door. Sam raised his brows and leaned closer to Dean to whisper in his ear.

"Let's just go, Dean. If she gets into trouble, she gets into trouble. It's not our problem." Dean nodded at his brother and put the car into reverse.

"Fine," he said to the angry teen. "Have it your way, but when you get arrested, don't have your uncle call us. We'll let you rot." With that he floored the gas and kicked up a wall of dirt.

On their way back to the motel, Dean fished out the battery to Sam's phone and through it at him, hitting him in the head. "Ow, Dean, what the hell?" He touched his forehead gingerly and put the battery into his phone, turned it on. He saw he had one new voice message and knowing it would be from Bobby and what it would say, he hit delete and put the phone in his jacket pocket. He looked over at Dean and saw he had his phone out and pressed against his ear. "Who are you calling?" Dean looked at him in a way that said 'shut up' and back to the road. A second later he began speaking.

"Bobby, hey. Listen, your niece is one crazy girl."

"Aw, Christ. What'd she do now," he growled on the other end.

"Well, we tried to follow her home to make sure she stayed out of trouble, like you asked. But instead of going home, she took led us to a dead end road and pulled a gun." Bobby sighed heavily on the other end of the phone.

"That girl…" he ground out through clenched teeth. "I'll have a talk with her. And don't be surprised if you see her at your door tomorrow."

"I'd rather not. Hey, how come you never told us you had a niece? Just outta curiosity."

"Need to know, kid. I'll have a talkin' to her, don't you worry about that," he said. Then as if it were an after thought he asked, "How's the case comin'?"

"Wrapped it up a few hours ago, we're leavin' bright and early tomorrow morning."

"Good." With that, he hung up the phone and they went into deep conversation about the crazy, gun-toting teen that was Bobby's niece.

Seconds after he got off the phone with Dean, Bobby dialed another, more familiar number and listened as the phone rang. It only rang once, as was usual before a cool voice answered. "Hello?"

"Chelsy Ayn Roberts, what the hell is wrong with you," Bobby all but shouted into the mouth piece of his cell phone. He could imagine his niece cringing at the harshness of his voice on the other end of the line and he smiled a little inside.

"Heeey, Uncle Bobby," she said evenly. "How's it going?"

"Don't you 'hey, Uncle Bobby' me! What's this I hear about you pulling a gun on those boys?" She frowned, thoroughly confused by his question.

"They were following me. Didn't you always tell me that it was dangerous to have someone follow you, hunter or not?"

"I asked them to follow you to make sure you stayed out of trouble, you jackass!" Chelsy raised her eyebrows as she put the kettle on the stove of her hotel room.

"How was I supposed to know? I may be a lot of things, Uncle Bobby, but a mind-reader, I am not."

"Yeah, well I expect you to get your tail over to those boy's motel room first thing in the morning and apologize to them for threatening to kill them, you got me?"

"Yes, Uncle Bobby."

"And, you are gonna offer them your services, to help make up for what you did," he added. Chelsy quirked a brow at his order as the kettle began to whistle. She walked over and pulled it off the stove, poured the boiling water into a mug and placed a bag of green tea into it before answering.

"You want me to whore myself out to them," she deadpanned as she steeped the tea.

"No, you ninny! Your hunting services. Those boys got Hell on their asses and they could use the extra help. You are going to be that help, understand?"

"Yes, Uncle Bobby. I understand."

"Good! Now, when is your court date?" Chelsy smiled mischievously to herself as she answered.

"I managed to weasel my way out of it," she said.

"I'm not gonna ask. I'd rather not know what you did to get out of it. You just make sure your ass is knocking on their door, first thing tomorrow morning. Got it?"

"Got it. Love you, Uncle Bobby."

"I love you, too, kid. Though for the life of me, I don't know why," he added under his breath. Then he said, "you behave yourself, hear," loud enough for her to catch.

"Gotcha," she said and hung up. She stirred her tea for a moment the picked up the mug and flung it at the wall, smashing the ceramic and chipping the plaster.