A/N: Hi, there! Thanks for clicking on this story-I know there are so many out there and I'm pleased you've considered mine for at least a quick peek. This is the tale of a young woman who discovers her past isn't really what she thought it was. She has teamed up with fellow hunters Dean and Sam and together they forge a path in more ways than one. This is a twist on SPN: S1 and S2. Please join Kelsey and our boys on this humorous and smutty journey. :)

"Don't move," the flaxen-haired woman quietly commanded, an arrow pointed directly at Dean. He threw his hands up in surrender.

"Whatever you say," he said, his eyes fixed on her ethereal ice blue ones.

Sam came to a skid behind Dean, the rifle leveled at her. She shifted her crossbow with him in her sights.

"Duck," she ordered. Dean instinctively swung around and knocked his bewildered brother to the ground, the rifle clattering aside, as an arrow swished by his head.

An otherworldly scream caused them to all wince at the sound. The creature writhed in pain from the bolt protruding from its eye socket.

Dean looked up at it just in time to witness it implode upon the impact of a second arrow, this one in the chest.

"Damn!" he said in awe, his head swiveling toward the archer, who was now walking away.

He scrambled to his feet, yanking Sam along with him as he hurried to catch up with her.

"How did you do that? What did you use on the tip?" Dean asked.

In all the time that he'd been doing this, he had never seen another hunter, much less a woman who did what she did.

She didn't say anything as she slung her crossbow on her back and adjusted the straps.

Sam caught up with them, rifle in hand, staring her in curiosity.

"Who are you?" Sam asked. She reached the side of the building, ignoring them still, to recover the pack she'd dropped.

Dean and Sam exchanged a perplexed look. A female hunter and she wouldn't even give them the time of day?

Once she shouldered her pack, the woman finally faced them.

"That your ride?" she asked, gesturing to the black Chevy Impala.

"Yeah," Dean tentatively answered, looking at the car and then at her, not sure where this was leading. He wasn't about to give up his baby without a fight.

She strode toward it, glancing over her shoulder.

"Well? Are we leaving or not?" she expectantly asked.

"Ohh-kaay," Dean said, giving a side glance at Sam, who just shrugged and followed the mysterious woman.

Sam twisted in his seat to look at the woman in the backseat.

"Thanks for what you did back there," Sam said. "That was pretty amazing."

The woman gave Sam a half-smile with a tip of her head.

"I imagine it wasn't any different than what you do with that rock-salt rifle," she replied.

Dean caught her gaze in the rearview mirror as they rambled down the road.

"Are you gonna at least tell us your name?" he asked. She stared at him a moment before speaking.

"Kelsey Remington," she said, looking at Sam and extending her hand.

"I'm Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean," he said, shaking her hand.

"How long you been hunting?" Dean asked, turning his head toward her.

"If I answer your questions, will you put me up for a night?" she asked in return.

"Sure," Dean answered. "Why not?"

The fleabag motel they pulled into only had one room left. None of them felt like being on the road another 45 minutes, so they agreed to share.

"I'll take the floor," Kelsey said, tossing her pack in the corner as they entered the room. Sam flopped down on the one of the queen beds, clothes and all, flopping an arm over his face.

"No way," Dean argued. "I'll take the floor. You deserve a bed for what you did back there. We'd been tracking that baddie for days."

Kelsey shook her head. "I won't do that to you, since you're providing a roof over my head and all."

Exasperated, Dean threw his hands up in the air for the second time that night.

"Are you always this stubborn, woman?" he said. His statement earned him a laugh and a real smile from Kelsey.

"Yes," she said. "What do you say we compromise and share? I promise I won't bite … at least tonight."

Sam peeked at his brother, to see Dean's startled expression before it turned into a smirk.

"Let it not be said that I refused a beautiful woman," Dean replied, earning another laugh from Kelsey.

"Is he always this full of bullshit?" Kelsey asked Sam, who nodded with a smile.

Sam was washing his face and brushing his teeth when Kelsey sauntered in, pushed down her jeans, and plopped onto the toilet.

"Hey!" Sam exclaimed with a mouthful of toothpaste, "what the heck?"

Kelsey smirked at him.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm going to the bathroom," she said.

Sam spit out his toothpaste.

"But I'm in here," he replied, briefly glancing at her.

"So?" Kelsey said, reaching for the toilet paper.

Without another word, Sam shot out of the bathroom, his face flushed, nearly running into Dean.

"Where's the fire?" Dean asked, glancing into the bathroom. Kelsey flushed the toilet.

Dean laughed and looked at his brother, who refused to look at him, as he crawled into his bed.

"Embarrassed much?" Dean commented with a smirk.

Facedown, Sam flipped him the bird behind his back.

Sam abruptly sat up in bed, breathing hard and sweating. He flung the covers back and swung his legs over the side.

In the dim light, he saw Kelsey lift her head. She was laying on her side facing him, her back nearly against Dean's prone body, which was facing the ceiling.

"You okay?" she whispered.

"Yeah," he flippantly answered, rubbing his face.

"My nightmares don't let me sleep much either," she softly said.

Sam was silent but didn't move.

"You wanna talk about it?" she asked, sitting up to mirror his position.

"Not really," he said.

She gently reached out and touched his hand. He gasped when he felt a current pass between them. He heard a rush of voices in his mind as she caught a glimpse of his memories.

Kelsey removed her fingers as if she'd been shocked and stood up.

"I'm sorry," she hastily said as she moved toward her pack.

Stunned, Sam couldn't tell if she was apologizing for what had just happened or for his loss.

She had slipped her jeans on and donned her flannel shirt before Sam got to her.

"Wait!" he said loud enough that he woke Dean.

"You okay, Sammy?" he muttered.

"Fine. Go back to sleep," Sam replied, his eyes locked with Kelsey's.

Dean grunted and rolled over.

"You wanna tell me what just happened?" Sam hissed, blocking Kelsey from reaching for her boots.

"I can't explain it," she said in a hushed tone, shaking her head and shrugging her shoulders. "It sometimes happens when I touch someone. Other times it doesn't. I don't know why."

He grabbed her forearms to force her to look at him.

"How long have you had it?" he asked.

"I don't know. Since I was a kid," she honestly replied, searching his face. "I'm really sorry about Jessica. Is that why you hunt?"

Sam dropped his hands, releasing her. He sighed.

"The thing that killed my girlfriend also killed my mom. We've been hunting for as long as I can remember," he said. "What about you? Why do you hunt?"

Kelsey looked away.

"My dad. He was murdered, too," she said so softly Sam almost couldn't hear her. She sat in the chair and reached for her boots.

"Hey," Sam said, stopping her. "Don't go. Stay with us. We can share what we know, fight together as a team. Please?"

Truth was, Kelsey was tired of doing it alone, being alone. She nodded and went back to bed.