"If we can find this bitch by nightfall, I'm going back for that blonde at Fat Al's," Dean quipped as he ascended a rocky bank, grinning back at his brother. He whistled as he groped an imaginary ass only he could see.

Struggling under the weight of extra arsenal and supplies, Sam grimaced at Dean as he trudged behind him, "I'm still not sure A bitch is what we are dealing with here. This seems more like group rate kinda hunt"

"OK, bitches. We're after a coven of bitches. One bitch, two bitch, three bitch...gank," Dean scoffed as he snapped a pine branch out of his face. Sam scowled at his brother's back as they continued their climb.

"You know I still don't get it, man. Sheep at the crossroads, goats in churchyards, seven dead priests and a regular Mayberry with a sudden demonic spike, something about this job just doesn't add up?"

"Isn't that how is usually works?" Dean asked raising his arms, "Peaceful towns become too peaceful, then some demon blows into town and shakes it all up, strikes a pact with an unsuspecting schmuck or two...then BAM!"

"That's the problem, this town wasn't always a Mayberry. Until about five years ago it was full of drugs, gangs, thugs, just a regular sprawl of delinquency and negligence. Then suddenly its like the town was bleached and became a little stepford of the south-east. Then its like an overnight occult hotspot, sacrifices, deaths by natural disaster, deaths by no clear means, poltergeist activity...the list just goes on and on."

As they crested the ridge Dean turned to his little brother, "So its more than our garden variety evil, maybe a crossroads deal gone sour?"

"Nah, the time frame is too short for a crossroads deal. It looks like witchcraft, big witchcraft. The kind you don't find in suburban Wicca groups, burning Nag Champa and bringing The Secret to book club." Sam adjusted his knapsack as he came to rest beside Dean letting out a sharp breath. The boys had never had a soft spot for witches, their human desires and emotions made them loose cannons, loose canons the boys would much rather avoid.

The boys rested for a moment, discussing the gaps in the details of this case. Neither brother heard the men's approach from behind them as they talked, maybe they were off their game or maybe it was just a run of bad luck. Even the loose rock and fallen leaves betrayed them, they never heard nor saw their assailants as the brothers were knocked unconscious and bound.

0*0*0

Sam woke with a start, bound to the trunk of a tree, the back of his head throbbing, causing his vision to shift in and out of focus. His peripheral vision revealed what looked like two men rummaging through bags, his and Dean's if he had to guess. It had been a long time since they had been mugged, it would've been a nice change of pace if they weren't on the trail of a killer witch in middle of nowhere. They really didn't have time for this.

Craning his neck, Sam nudged his brother's head that was lolled over at his shoulder, "Dean...Dean...Dean," he whispered, rolling his eyes at the fact that Dean was actually snoring and no doubt drooling on his shoulder.

With an indignant snort, Dean snapped awake pulling at his restraints, groaning from sudden movement that aggravated his tender head,"Son of a bitch."

"Well look who's awake Luke," said a stocky man, as he stepped into the boy's direct line of sight.

The man was dressed in various shades of brown leather, that looked as if they had been patched together from years of wear, his face was ruddy and unshaven reminiscent of Grisly Adams. He looked like the kind of guy that would smell even if he was cleaned up in a suit and tie.

"Ooo, well witch and twitch, rise and shine, it's just about barbeque time, 'eh Larry?" came from Luke, the taller of two dressed in a similar manner, with a hawk-nose and sallow colored skin. He looked taut and spindly like he'd been stretched out to his height, not like he was built for it like Sam. The man was somewhat unfortunate in appearance.

"We've been tracking you boys for a copula' days now, all those little Satanic breadcrumbs you've been leavin' about. I gotta admit, you weren't as tough as we thought, some o' the easiest witches we've took down," Larry drawled, sweeping a lazy hand in the direction of the two boys, a coy smile at the corners of his lips.

Dean laughed, wincing a little, from the effort it took, "I think we got off on the wrong foot Pocahontas, you see we..." Dean shook his head toward Sam, "...ain't no witches."

"Then I guess you just tripped over this bag full of books on demons and black magic, ceremonial knives and herbs pouches along with a whole buncha' other woo-woo shit."

"Well I guess you can't fix stupid," Dean muttered, grinning at the two goons, in his usual cocky manner.

The shortest of the assailants, Larry, huffed in agitation as he retrieved two unlit torches laying nearby and set them ablaze, "Funny how 'stupid' is gonna' burn your ass, pretty boy."

Luke pulled a worn and tattered book from a bag sitting behind him. He opened the book to a page marked by a rosary, which he rolled in fingers as he began to chant in Latin, "In nomine sancte Pater lumen cæli, et in sublime appello mala animae daemonium habentis maleficia ambustum. Quod regnat in caelo appareat tua in terris nomen multitudinem Sancti Amen."

Sam and Dean sprung from the bonds that Dean had slowly been working at with a pen knife and took the other two men down. Dean smirked as he punched a very dumbfounded Larry across the jaw, spraying blood across the forest floor and sending the man flailing into a pile of dead leaves.

"Why didn't it work?" Luke coughed as Sam slammed him to the ground with a booted foot, effectively silencing him as the air was knocked from his lungs.

"Why didn't what work?" Sam demanded pressing his foot against Luke's sternum, eliciting a strained grunt.

Larry rose, wiping his lip with the sleeve of his tattered coat, "That chant. That was Holy magic, meant to burn the powers outa' a witch. You two should be screamin' for the devil himself right about now."

Dean knocked Larry back on his ass with an uppercut to the chin, "Like I said Pocahontas, we...aint witches. Now do you mind explaining why the sam hell you just tried to gank us?"

"We thought ya'll was witches," came from underneath Sam's foot.

Dean spun around to Luke's prone form, "You say that one more time Sacagewea-man, and I'll gut you right now. We are not witches."

"Look, we was jus' followin' a trail. Every sniff we got you was there, every goat, every dead body...there you were. What would you think?" Larry asked, rising from the ground.

"I would THINK about doing a little damn research before I go knocking people out in the middle of the frickin' woods!" Dean shouted.

"We've never been wrong before. Never had to guess if we had witch, 'cause we always did. This town is full'a unnatural happenin' and balck magic, we've already tripped over a witch once , figured you was part o' the coven when all the signs kept leading us to you."

"Well you'd be wrong in that assumption," Dean chuckled.

Sam removed his foot from Luke's chest and held out his hand to help the man up, "Well I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean. We're hunters...of the paranormal...I think we're tracking the same thing...or things. So truce?"

Luke took Sam's hand and let himself be helped to his feet, "Truce. I'm Luke, and this is my cousin Larry. We're uh...witch hunters 4th generation actually. We've been doing this for as long as we can remember, and honestly we've never had a red herring. So honestly, sorry about that."

"Ah what's a rock to the back of the back of the head anyway, its not like were really using our brains?" Dean asked waving dismissively. Sam shot Dean a dirty look.

"I gotta ask though," said Larry, "What's with the bag of tricks?"

"Call it our little witch doctor bag. We got the cure for what ails," Dean answered.

The four men talked for a while about the job and the contents of the Winchester's bag, which intrigued and perplexed the cousins. The boys exchanged info and past experiences, explaining a few of the items they used and learning of some they had never heard of before, as Luke and Larry described their methods of tracking taking down witches.

They learned that this town had a long history with witchcraft and various supernatural occurrences, that it was some kind of power source for evil and the witches took advantage of that fact. It seemed that the town hinged on the whim of the witches that inevitably inhabited it. When they were in a good disposition the town would prosper and undulate with blessings and good intentions. When something crossed whatever witches might be in town, it suffered the back lash of their ill intent.

"That explains the re-lapse into Sin City," said Dean, "And you said that you already got one of these bitches of Eastwick the other day?"

"Yeah, tracked her out to an abandoned family cemetery. Looked like she'd been there more than once too, the ground was disturbed and headstones covered in wax and dried herbs."

"She give you any clues to the whereabouts of the rest of her coven?" asked Sam.

"No. Chances are she was a solitary witch, or working outside her coven, but there were no indicators that anyone else was working with her."

There was a deafening boom as a bolt of lightning seared through the mountain air. It made contact with the tree directly behind the four men, raining down bark, splinters and burning leaves as they were knocked down by the force of the hit. Thunder rang in their ears.

Neatly, as if it had been sawed in halves the tree fell to the left and right of the prone men, "What the fuck!" Dean exclaimed.

As the men turned to look at the smouldering tree, and various tree related debris, a figure approached beyond the haze of the smoke. A small breeze picked up, creating dirt-devils of ashes, leaves and embers. As the breeze pulled away the wall of smoke, the figure drew closer.

"That bitch was my sister," came a female voice, "that bitch wasn't alone." Another bolt of lightning flew through the sky splintering through a tree on the opposite side of the boys.

Sam and Dean rolled for they bag, quickly pulling two shotguns from the worn canvas bag. The guns were quickly ripped from their grasped by the unseen powers of the witch, who now stood where the tree once had smirking at Sam, Dean and the cousins scrambling in the leaves looking for their tools.

She was a petite, brunette, tan with a round face and large does eyes. She wore a black sundress that hugged her shapely form, and showed off her long legs, her feet were bare, yet somehow clean, her hair hung in soft ringlets around her face.

"Men, put a gun or a penis in their hands and they're sure to just start waving them around until they hit something, huh," the witch laughed as she twirled a lock of her hair, "Anyways. My fight is not with you, leave me the killers and I will return the favor."

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, "Well thats a nice offer lady, and believe me I could think of a few hundred ways you could repay me but..."

"I don't have time for this," the witch exclaimed as she raised her hands and threw both Sam and Dean into the air and let them land a few yards away on a pile of rocks.

She then turned her back and walked back toward where Larry and Luke were digging through their bags, and then unconsciousness took them.