Hey! This is a "small" (and by small I mean it will most likely be novel length) thing that my friend and I decided to work on. It's basically another fic about Dean's daughter...but hopefully it's the first one to stray into the Leverage and Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. fandoms. Sadly, my updates will be kind of few and far between, as I no longer have a proper computer, but I'll try to add to this and my other stories as often as possible. Thanks a bunch to agenovese7 for being my beta-reader/collaborator on this! Lots of hugs and kisses to all of you lovelies!

Jezebel Winchester flopped dramatically onto the moldy couch of the seedy motel room she was currently calling "home." Her father, Dean, and her uncle, Sam, were off hunting one of the seven deadly sins (Wrath) that had somehow escaped from Hell. Despite her protests, she was left behind, with the assurance of Dean and Sam returning within the week. It was almost cute how they thought she couldn't handle herself with something as trivial as Wrath. They knew nothing about her past, just that she had been orphaned as a ten year old, and bounced around from foster home to foster home.

When her mother was only seventeen years old, she had met up with the "walking sex god" that was her father. At the time, an angel had only been wearing her skin, so when Dean got her knocked up, he had unwittingly created a Nephilim. Somehow, her mother managed to survive having an actual angel inside of her, but ironically died in a car crash ten years later. Jezebel was then orphaned, and sent to the living hell that was a foster home. There, she met a girl named Skye, with whom she became very good friends, until she was adopted. When she was thirteen, she underwent Terragen, and was forced to flee the foster home she hated so dearly. She was a wandering spirit for a while, until she met a woman named Parker. Parker introduced her to her team; it was the first time she ever felt like she had a family. From Parker, she learned to pick a lock in six seconds and crack a safe in twenty; from Sophie, she learned the art of seduction and how far most men would go for cheap sex (also known as grifting); from Hardison, she learned to hack into even the most complicated servers; from Eliot, she learned to fight like a badass; and from Nate, she learned how to flawlessly execute a con.

Then, when Nate and the team threw Damien Moreau's sorry ass into jail, she decided it was time to seek out her father. Ever since then, she was known as Jezebel Winchester, the most hated creature in all of heaven, for she was the only Nephilim in history to ever possess wings and the power of flight. She still hadn't told Sam or Dean about her past with Leverage, Inc, and she wasn't planning to any time soon.

Jez pulled out her cellphone, dialing Nate's number.

"Who is this?" his voice came sharply over the line.

She laughed inwardly at Nate's typical, terse greeting. "Hey, Nate. It's Jez. My dad's on a hunt and I'm bored out of my damn mind. Got anything you need help with?"

His voice warmed immediately. "Jez! It's great to hear from you. Actually, I was just about to call you. We could really use your help on this one!"

"Awesome. I can be there in a few minutes, tops. If I'm late, just start without me. I'll see you soon!" She hung up, scribbling a note in case Sam and Dean were home early. She twisted on the spot and disappeared, leaving no trace behind.

Agent Grant Ward waved a fly away from his face, growing more annoyed by the second. This was the third day he had been rooted in this spot, near a tavern called McRory's. Coulson was chasing an unregistered Inhuman, and he hoped to ambush her near here. If Fitz's little gadget worked according to plan, when she tried to teleport to McRory's, it would stop her right where he was standing. They also had May standing guard a block away from the motel she was sighted at.

He was not at all happy with this mission. For one thing, it had been going on far too long, and for another, he hated Boston. The accents were annoying, the only thing they had to eat here was fried seafood, and it was muggier than the Everglades. Ward let out a loud sigh of annoyance, earning a chuckle from a certain hacktivist/Inhuman in his ear.

"Oh, come on, it's not that bad," Skye told him teasingly, still chuckling.

"Yeah, well, you're exactly where you want to be. You're back at the Bus, probably still in your pajamas, with your computers and that candy you pressured me into buying last time we were on the ground," Ward replied gruffly.

He could hear her smile as she said, "You got me there. Although, that's not exactly true, you know. I'd be a lot happier if you were here."

"You have no idea how awesome that sounds. By the way, when I get back…"

"Yeah?" Skye asked suggestively.

"It's my turn to pick the movie for movie night," he said with a laugh. Oh, how fun it was to tease her!

"Alright, alright. Just no Fast and Furious this time, okay? I don't think I can sit through another one of those," she told him.

"Promise. I love you," Ward replied, smiling widely.

"I love you, too. Any sign of her?" Skye asked, steering the conversation back towards business.

"No. What do you suppose her powers are?"

"Well, gee, Ward, I wonder? Judging by the fact that she can appear out of nowhere, I'd say that's what she can do!" she said sarcastically.

"There she is," he said suddenly. She had just appeared across the street, looking very confused as to why she wasn't in McRory's. He pulled an Icer out of his belt, and slowly crossed the street. The girl realized what was happening and took off, her dark braided hair flying behind her. He pursued her until she ducked into a side alley. Thinking he had cornered her, he turned into the ally, but she was gone. All that was there was a sleek black cat. Ward squinted. What was that on the cat's shadow? Wings? No, that couldn't be right. His mind must be playing tricks on him. He retreated back to the car, once again resuming his silent vigil.

Jezebel glanced about warily, still in her favorite form: a black cat. Thankfully, as he was human, the S.H.I.E.L.D agent who was chasing her wasn't able to see the inky black wings on her back, except in her shadow. She high-tailed it to Leverage HQ, checking behind her shoulder at every turn. After getting lost twice, shimmying up two drain pipes, and getting chased by at least four different dogs, she was finally in front of the window that was Nate's.

They were in the middle of a debriefing when she leapt into the room. Jez was ignored for a good ten minutes, until she meowed loudly, catching Parker's attention. She allowed her wings to be seen, thus giving away her presence.

"Jez?" Parker gasped, delighted to see her friend. "Wait, why are you a cat?"

Jezebel gestured with her paw at the various open windows around the apartment. Eliot understood immediately and busied himself with closing the room off from prying eyes. She transformed back into herself, groaning at the bruises those damn dogs had left on her.

"Thanks. S.H.I.E.L.D's on my ass. I'm fairly certain they have been for weeks now," Jez said.

"Well, you're here now. This con is going to take a week at least, so that should be enough to shake them off," Nate replied, pulling up a chair for her. "If you want to be certain, you're always welcome to stay a bit longer. I have a guest room." Jez nodded her thanks, gesturing to Hardison to resume his debriefing.

Dean dropped his bag near the door and headed towards the mirror to inspect the demon had put up a fight, and although they managed to keep it under control, they had taken their fair share of hits. Sam had gotten away with a bullet graze to the shoulder and a couple of cuts here and there. Dean, however, fared much worse. He had a deep gash across his abdomen, as well as above his eye, and a bullet sunk into his leg.

Sam sat him firmly on the bed and started to fix his brother up. He poured peroxide over his wounds, then began bandaging them. Luckily, his cuts and bruises weren't as deep as they had first seemed, so Dean was still in fighting condition. Sam went to go take a shower, leaving Dean to veg out in front of the television. Nearly an hour had gone by before Sam noticed something was wrong.

"Where the hell is Jez?" Sam yelled as he ran out from the bathroom, half-naked and covered in soap bubbles. It would have been funny, but Dean was too busy processing what his brother had said to laugh at him. Dean launched himself off the couch, and gave Sam a worried glance.

"Oh my God. What the hell? Where is she?!" Dean said as he swept the room, looking for some clue as to where his daughter was. Throwing the sheets off the mattresses, Dean looked in Sam's direction. "Why the hell did it take us this long to notice this?!"

"I don't know! I mean, it seemed quieter, but I thought it was just because you were asleep! It doesn't matter let's just find out where she went. Maybe she left something to give us a clue of where she went."

"Great detective skills there, Sherlock," Dean replied sarcastically. He rifled through her bag, which she had left behind. Something on the table caught his eye. It was a note! He held it up triumphantly, saying, "She left a note! It says 'went to see an old friend. Don't wait up.' What d'you suppose that means?"

"I don't know…but she has mentioned some "old friends" that got her in trouble a few years back…I'll try and figure out where she has warrants," Sam said, already opening his computer at the coffee table.

Dean sat heavily on the bed, worry for his daughter overtaking him. They had only known each other for a year or so, but he had grown remarkably fond of the dry, sarcastic girl. He didn't know what he would do if something happened to her (although, he would probably hunt down and send the son of a bitch who did it to Hell). It would be hard to find her, though, as she had always been secretive about her past. All Dean knew was that her mother, who had been possessed by an angel at the time he met her, had died when she was ten, and she was put into the foster system. Then, at the ag e of thirteen, she ran.

"Sam, any luck?" Dean called. It had been two hours of deafening silence, with no progress made at all.

"Not since two minutes ago, no. You know what, why don't you call Castiel? Then at least you'll be able to get your mind off things," Sam suggested, tired of Dean's incessant nagging.

"Hello, Dean," came the familiar greeting a moment later. "Why have you called me here?"

"Jezebel is missing. We don't know where she is…she said she was going to see and old friend. Any idea what she's talking about?" Dean asked him, the worry evident in his voice.

Castiel nodded with concern. "She has explained some of her past to me. She told me that when she met up with a "team of thieves" that she ran with for a while. That is why she has so many warrants out. Search her name through Vermont, Delaware, North Carolina, Utah, Michigan, Arizona, Washington, Colorado, or Arkansas." Sam nodded, his fingers flying over the keys.

Turning to Dean, Cas said in what he hoped was a soothing voice, "She'll be fine, Dean. She's a strong, independent girl. She can take care of herself."

"God, I hope you're right, Cas, 'cause if you're not…" Dean trailed off. She would be fine, he told himself. She had to be.