Disclaimer: Supernatural is property of CW, I just borrowed it for play. I've put it back relatively unharmed.

The sound of feet hitting the wet asphalt echoed in the night. A woman in black and grey jogged down the street. She had one ear bud in blasting classic rock and her hood up. The lights on the house she just passed started to flicker. The house lights in front of her started to flicker too and she stopped curiously, pulling down her hood. A hand shot out and grabbed her by the shoulder, and threw her across the street onto the sidewalk, and her head smacked against the fence surrounding her neighbor's garden. When her vision cleared, she could see a man covered in seaweed, dripping wet. She rubbed her eyes, thinking she just saw him flicker. He walked, almost glided toward her, and she stood, grabbing the iron railing of the fence and pulling it out. After a few choice phrases she managed to wrench it free, just as the man's hand grazed the back of her neck, and she turned to hit him with the iron rod. He disappeared in a cloud of burning smoke.

She ran the rest of the way home, and burst in the door, and dashed to the kitchen. Tearing apart the pantry cabinets, she found what she was looking for, and carried it to the front door. She emptied the can of salt in a line behind the door, and the windows next to it, and had just enough to salt the back door. An old man came grumbling down the stairs.

"Sara, what the hell is going on?"

"Dad, grab some salt, make a line in front of every window and every door," She said, looking up at him as he started to reply, "Don't ask, just do it!"

*Cool Transition Here!*

The Winchester boys entered the dusty and disheveled warehouse, alternating back and forth in up and down positions the way their father had taught them. First Dean with his shotgun low, crouching as he turned the corner, and Sam above him with his, covering his backside simultaneously. Just as they were preparing to switch positions when Sam heard a soft patter behind him. Turning with his gun ready, he felt something hard press against the middle of his shoulder blades, giving him pause.

"You're trespassing," came a soft yet gravely serious voice from behind. Definitely a woman's voice, Dean decided as he turned towards her with his sawed off pointing at her. She was a thin young woman-she looked like a college student- in dark formfitting clothing. She had short black hair, with a plain black headband to keep her hair out of her face.

"Now miss, we don't mean to cause any trouble. We'll just leave..." Dean started with his trademark smirk. She eyed his weapon briefly.

"Ah, hunters," the slender woman remarked brightly, causing Dean to hesitate when she grabbed the barrel of the shotgun and pushed it towards Sam. He pulled the trigger out of instinct and the salt grazed Sam's arm. As the report of the shot went off, her spider-like leg shot out and hit Dean square in the chest, sending him backwards a few feet to land on his back.

With Dean's shotgun in hand, she moved back a few feet away from Sam as he turned aiming his shotgun at her, now. She pumped the shotgun with her right hand and aimed at Dean who had scrambled to get his Colt out, and what Sam recognized as a SIG in her left aimed straight as his head. All steady.

"How do you know-"

"Are you Dean Winchester?" She asked looking Sam square in the eye.

"No, I'm Sam."

"I thought Dean was the older one."

"No, Dean's just... vertically challenged," Sam looked over his shoulder at Dean with a smirk.

"Lovely. Look, I was here first. I don't want to have to kill you boys, since you have so much potential," She got to the point, "Or, we can work together, darlings." She looked over at Dean's weapon, "Try and shoot me with that little toy and I'll let off a few rounds into Sammy's head before I hit the ground. That's right, put your weapons down, boys. Relax. Good," she smirked coyly as they put down their guns and kicked them over to her.

She put down Dean's sawed-off, but keeping her hand on her SIG P225 steadily aimed in the middle of the shaggy haired boy's head, and wrapped her now free hand around her left.

"Now, I don't want any nonsense about who's in charge. The Nix* is out back, I just wanted to scope the place first. Do any of you have a sacrifice?" She paused to let the boys have a say.

"No, Dean wouldn't let me bring the cat."

"It was a kitten," Dean protested, brushing off the back of his jeans as he stood up. "I wasn't about to let you slice up the poor thing."

The woman rolled her eyes and holstered her gun before climbing swiftly up to the rafter where she had been before she spotted the brothers. She slung her bag back around her torso before hopping down, unzipping it as she did so. She pulled out a sleeping, dirty cat by the scruff.

"Will a stray do? I'll make it quick, unlike the terrible life it would lead scouring garbage and turning into road kill."
As she walked past them, both brothers turned to admire her from behind as she scooted quietly across the warehouse floor with the snoozing cat hanging in her hand. Dean assumed she used some kind of tranquilizer on it.

She put her finger to her mouth and waved them over, signaling- signals they weren't familiar with but were easily identifiable- that it was just outside the door. San and Dean crouched as they moved across the floor, staying out of the moonlight and joined up behind her as she waited behind the open garage door. There was a barely audible splash and she sprang out easily, crouching lower than they thought possible as she moved across the dock to the edge and dropped the cat in.

*Cool Transition Here!*

"It didn't work, Bobby," she complained into her expensive smartphone, tapping her nails on the hood of her silver hybrid car. Dean and Sam exchanged looks, their eyebrows raised. Sam zipped up his jacket and contemplated getting rid of the Impala and getting a fuel efficient car like her hybrid. He didn't know why Dean held onto it. Again, another thing he would understand if he had a soul. He overheard some yelling on the other end of her phone. She looked over at the boys, and then hopped into her car for a more private conversation.

"I know it isn't your fault, Bobby, gimme some credit. I'm trying to say that I don't think it's a Nix. Probably something with a similar MO. Like a Vodyanoy**, or something."

"Those guys aren't supposed to even come close this far south. Are you sure the animal was all black?" Bobby sounded slightly bewildered, but not surprised. She sighed, knowing that her work had gotten more complicated after the Apocalypse because everything was acting up.

"Of course I'm sure. And, these Winchester boys..."

"Aw hell. I'm sure whatever they did, they didn't mean it."

"Bobby dear, it sounds like you're defending them. D'you have a soft spot for these knuckleheads?"

"Sara, what did they do?"

"Actually, they did fine, I'm impressed. Let's get to the matter at hand, since I'm very unfamiliar with the Vodyanoy. I only remember that it appears as an old man. All the research I have dug up on this shore and there's no old men that have drowned in the past two hundred years. Please do not tell me that he could have drifted from anywhere."

"Spirits only haunt the places it drowned, unless it's tied to a boat."

Sara glanced out the window at the two boys who stood waiting. Dean waved.

"No I've checked that. Maybe... I've got an idea. May I borrow your precious boys?"

"Sara, don-" Bobby was cut off as she hung up on him and swung out of the car.

"Sam, Dean, pleased to meet you, I'm Sara Cohen."

"Great, let's get this damn show on the road," Dean said, obviously irritated, "What did Bobby say?"

"Well, that's privileged information, but since I like you so much..." she paused as she dug a few things out of her trunk, "He suggests it might not be a Nix but one of a thousand different water spirits. Just our bad luck it's the summer solstice. But, I have a wonderful idea." Sara pulled out a wet suit for herself, and handed Sam a three foot long iron rod, twisted decoratively but seemed heavy enough, "That one's cold iron. Don't lose it, it belongs to my neighbor." and handed a SPP-1 pistol to Dean.

"Where did you get one of these?" Dean asked excitedly, like a dog wagging it's tail as he looked it over.

"Practice. Oh, and the rounds are modified to be iron. Since we're going underwater, salt is out of the question. Sara pulled out a few goggles and a single face mask, then started to undress. The face mask she used for underwater diving trips such as these, the other goggles for swimming at the hotel pools.

"Wait, we're going underwater?" Sam asked her, as if he was suspicious of her intentions. She filed that under a list of traits she already had for the guy as she put on her wetsuit over her underwear.

"I have a hunch there's a body. Didn't you do any research? No bodies of old men have turned up, so how could it be a Vodyanoy? And there's been a strain of women..."

"Rusalki.***"

"Good, Sam. You understand. He seems to enjoy this spot so let's look for him here. I'm counting on you to have my back. Bobby trusts you, and so will I. Don't screw it up. Dean, can you be a dear and help me with this zipper?"

*Cool Transition Here!*

A large puddle formed under the body that Sara had brought up in plastic wrap. Sam was pressing a small towel against his arm where the salt had previously grazed him. Sara had conveniently forgot that the spirit was attracted to blood and took a chunk out of that arm. After Dean finished pouring salt out of the metal tin he got from the trunk of his Impala and showering the body with lighter fluid, Sara dropped a lit match onto it.

"Ah, love the smell of burning bodies, don't you boys?" she shouldered on her pack and made her way back to her car. Sam caught up with her.

"Wait wait, you're just going to up and go?"

"Yup."

"You're not even going to verify that the spirit is gone?"

"That's what you guys are for." She paused to fish in her bag, and put a cigarette in her mouth, lighting it with the matches she used to light the body. "There's a reason why I kept you guys on."

"Kept us on?" Dean interjected, flanking her other side, "You're really full of yourself for someone who did barely anything." Sara tapped her index finger on her left temple.

"You're lucky you ran into me or else you'd be here another few days. I bet you already put two or three days into researching. Maybe more. It's L.A., lots to find. I just arrived seven hours ago. Do the damn math."

"Hey, we've been doing this a long time, don't come in here and tell us what to do." Dean had his face screwed up into something. He feels insulted, Sara thought.

"I know a great place to eat. Do you want to join me?"

Sam looked at his watch. It was 3:34am.

"Is there anywhere that's open?" Sam said more than asked, incredulously.

*Cool Transition Here!*

"So what, you want to help us?"

Sara looked up at Sam who hadn't even looked at the menu, and was instead staring her down as she idly wrapped the teabag string around the handle of her cup.

"Yeah. You see, you boys are great, but not perfect. I got the drop on you, if you remember."

"Look, we don't need to be perfect. We're fine. I'll have the breakfast slam, please," Dean said to the middle-aged waitress, who looked bored out of her mind, "Eggs over easy."

"I'll have the classic burger," Sam chimed in.

"Smothered fries for me," Sara said dully, sipping her tea and waiting for the waitress to leave, "And I'm kind of surprised you don't know to stay out of my territory."

"Come on, surely there's plenty of monsters to go around," Dean said, spreading his hands in a non-threatening gesture.

"There's a reason there's hardly any jobs in California," Sara said as she downed her tea and refilled it with the little pitcher that was on the table, "It's because I kill them all."

"You didn't get that one in Hollywood a couple years back."

"That's because," Sara looked up sharply, "You took over it while I was there. You're lucky that stage had people on it or I may have shot you."

"Now now," Sam said, looking between them, attempting to calm them, "We had no idea someone else was on the case. We won't come here ever again."

Dean elbowed Sam gently, "What, and miss out on all the lessons this high school girl will teach us?", he asked sarcastically.

"Don't be ridiculous. If you feel so strongly about it, I don't think I will help you. Simple as that."

Their waitress came up then with their meals, matching the meal with the person. Except for Sam and Dean's, which they traded after she left.

"Look, I'm sure you mean well, but we can take care of ourselves. We don't need another Gordon," Dean said, stuffing a sausage into his mouth.

Sara pouted, pondering his suggestion that she might be as bad as Gordon Walker.

"What Dean means is, we don't really know you."


Reference: (Taken from the SPN Monster handbook)
*Nix - Water spirit - Mermanlike creature, likes black animals, fresh blood, and vodka
**Vodyanoy - Water spirit - Like the Nix, but appears as an old man, more violent, likes tobacco.
***Rusalki - Water spirit - Vodyanoy take them as brides, usually women he's drowned himself.

A/N: I was trying to get an idea out of my head, but I guess if I post it here I will be compelled to write more. Also, I have a slight thing against writing original characters into well established shows, especially when the character represents yourself, and you pair it with someone. Or you make them relatively godlike. I assure you I will do my best to keep this from happening, so please don't send bad reviews. Sara has some very weak points to which I want to address in the second chapter.