"I don't see why we can't just meet up with this hunter at the motel later like Bobby said to and get the details from them." Sam muttered sourly. He tugged at his tie and shifted uncomfortably in the stiff suit.
"I want my information first hand. How do we know if we can trust this person, Sam? Bobby doesn't even know them personally, they're a friend of some librarian he met like once." Dean pulled into the parking lot of the medical examiner's office. "If we're going on a hunt with a stranger I want to be as prepared as humanly possible." He cut the engine and looked at Sam pointedly.
"Alright, fine." Sam sighed deeply.
They went inside and walked up to the front desk, pulling out their forged FBI credentials.
"Agents Frehley and Johnson, we're here to see the Stevenson body." Dean put on an air of polite boredom, that usually raised the fewest eyebrows. The security guard behind the desk spat his coffee though.
"Jesus! First the CIA, now the FBI? What was this guy mixed up in?" The man's voice nearly cracked like a teenager's. Dean found himself speechless and fighting to keep shock from his face.
"We're not at liberty to discuss that sir." Sam came to the rescue. "Where is the body?"
The guard pointed to a door to the left of the desk. "Through there. It's the only one we've got at the moment." He still seemed a bit dazed.
Sam and Dean went in to look at the body and found a woman already examining it. She wore an official looking light grey pencil skirt and blazer set. Her honey blonde hair was in a high bun that gave her face a severe look. She glanced up at the sound of the door and took their appearance in. Dean cleared his throat and introduced himself and Sam as he had before.
"So what interest does the FBI have in Mr. Stevenson? Our field office didn't receive an inter-agency request." The woman crossed her arms and raised her eyebrows as she spoke. She managed to make both men feel like schoolchildren who'd done something wrong. Dean started to stammer out a response when she snorted and broke into an wicked grin. "I'm just screwing with you." She chuckled. "You're the Winchesters, right? We were supposed to meet later at the Super 8?" The softer expression took years off her appearance.
"How did you..?" Dean pondered.
"How did I know you weren't really FBI? Please. That haircut is a dead giveaway." She gestured at Sam. "They've got some pretty strict guidelines about length." Sam reached up self-consciously to touch his hair. Dean turned and raised his eyebrows at him, giving a 'how could you not know that' look.
"So... what do we got?" Dean asked, turning back to the body.
"Vamp nest." The other hunter answered, turning the victim's head to expose multiple bite marks on his neck. "I've narrowed the location of the nest down to a three block radius over by the warehouse district. All the victims were last seen at or around a club there. Name's MJ Johnson by the way."
"Sounds like you've already got this whole thing figured out." Dean tried to hide how impressed he was with a sarcastic tone.
"Yeah? Of course I do." MJ looked at him and a raised an eyebrow. "The only reason I'm letting you two tag along is because my best friend owes Bobby Singer a favor and she thinks I might be able to help you with your hell problem. And I'm not ditching mid-job to see if I can."
"Yeah about that..." Sam interjected uncomfortably, "How is it exactly that you might be able to help?"
MJ lost the smile and looked at both of them. She swallowed and shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "I've been." She said without humor. "And I've dealt with a lot of demons since then, so if there's anyone who can figure out who holds Dean's contract it's probably me."
"What do you mean who holds my contract? Wouldn't it just be the red eyed skank I made the deal with?" Dean was a little blindsided by the information that this... girl had been to hell and back. Literally.
MJ stared at Dean. "Do you have no inkling of what you did when you sold your soul? Crossroads demons are just sales reps, they don't actually have the power to hold contracts. Whatever you sold it for I hope it was worth it." She shook her head, making a face like she wasn't sure if she still wanted to help.
"It was worth it." Dean spat out. "I may not have known every nuance of how demons work but it was damn worth it! I hope whatever you sold yours for was."
MJ covered the body up and pushed the slab back into its cubby. "I didn't sell my soul." She said it quietly, in a controlled voice. There was an undercurrent to the way she said it.
"How'd you end up in hell then?" Dean asked. He sensed that something was off here, and he wasn't sure if he should take Sam and get the hell away or not. Something about her tugged at his protective instincts.
"I pissed off the wrong people." MJ said, abruptly closing the subject with her tone.
MJ was intent on the hunt, and only vaguely aware of the Winchester brothers by her side. The three of them watched the exits of the club from a nearby rooftop. A giggling couple walked out a side door, the beat of the music inside thumping louder until the door swung shut behind them.
"How about those two?" Sam questioned. It was weird hanging out for hours, watching from on high like a predator.
"It's not them." MJ sounded supremely confident. It was starting to drive Dean up a wall.
"How could you possibly know that?" He asked in an irritable growl.
"They come almost every night to sell drugs in there. I told you, I've been watching this place for weeks." MJ snapped, a little offended. Just then she shifted foreword. Her hair, now in a braid fell over her shoulder. "There. It's her." She was heading down the fire escape in nearly the same moment as she spoke. Dean scrambled after her, head spinning at the speed she perused a woman dressed in a skimpy dress leading a clearly inebriated man down an alley. Sam was close behind.
They caught up to MJ when she paused behind the corner of a building. She held up a hand, indicating they should stop. Then she pointed up, to a man standing on a balcony. He was watching the woman intently.
"How the hell did you know it was her?" Dean hissed.
"Did you not see the blood on his shirt collar?" MJ shot back under her breath. Dean shook his head. She rolled her eyes and then went back to watching. The man disappeared from the balcony and moments later reappeared at a door on ground level. The woman pushed her follower forward, and he stumbled into the steps leading to the door. The three disappeared inside.
"That's the nest." MJ eased her machete out of its sheath as she spoke.
"You're going in now?" Sam asked incredulously.
"Oh what? Are you scared?" MJ snorted. Both brothers looked at her, wide eyed. "Fine, stay here losers." And with that she crept swiftly towards the building.
"MJ-" Dean hissed, but she was already too far away. He turned to Sam, who was watching MJ stalk around the far corner of the building. "Alright come on."
They turned the corner just in time to see a head fall to the ground and roll a few feet. MJ caught the body and eased it down quietly. She acknowledged them wordlessly before wiping the blade clean on the vamp's shirt and re-sheathing it.
"So what's the plan?" Sam asked in a whisper.
"I'm going in through the upstairs, you guys do whatever you want, just be quiet about it." MJ answered in a low voice. She took her coat off and hung it on some crates stacked against the wall. Sam was about to ask how she planned on going in through the second floor when there weren't any external stairs on this side of the building, when she started scaling a drainpipe. He shot a look at Dean.
"She doesn't play well with others does she?" Sam muttered.
"Nope." Dean grunted. They watched for another moment before Dean shook his head and looked for a way in on the ground floor. "Let's keep her from getting herself killed."
MJ slid a window open and swung into the building. She could hear raucous laughter floating up from the downstairs. As she crossed the room she stepped on a creaky floorboard. The laughter stopped. There was a brief, muffled conversation and then steps coming her direction. She slid over to the doorway and waited. Moments later a man came through, stepping towards the middle of the room. MJ swung the machete full force, catching him in the back of the neck. He toppled noisily to the floor. This resulted in some yelling from the first floor. With the element of surprise gone, MJ rocketed past the crumpled form and headed down the stairs. She'd just reached the bottom when two vamps came running.
Sam and Dean heard distressed shouting from inside and decided to just go through the front door. Dean kicked it in and saw MJ dodging a blow from one of the vamps, spinning to catch another one in the back of the leg with a bloody machete. Before he could go to help there were more on him and Sam. The fight didn't last long, and when he paused to catch his breath and glance around it looked like the end of a bad slasher flick. There were headless bodies strewn about the dingy room. The drunk man from before was cowering in the corner.
"Well, that was fun." MJ panted cheerfully, wiping blood from her chin. She grinned lopsidedly and cleaned her machete. "You two weren't half bad." There wasn't enough surprise in her voice for it to actually be insulting, but Dean didn't let it slide.
"You need to learn some teamwork! You could've gotten yourself killed." He fumed.
"I've done more with less help, I can handle myself Winchester." She seemed to be in too good of a mood to be affected by his grumpiness. She looked at him appraisingly. "So can you apparently. There may be hope for you yet."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean rounded on her.
"If we can figure out who holds your contract do you think it's going to be all puppies and rainbows? No. It's gonna be a fight that ends bloody. From what I saw here you two might actually stand a chance." MJ elaborated calmly. "It's a compliment, take the win." She smirked. MJ turned towards the still terrified man. "Let's get this guy out of here." She walked slowly over to where he crouched.
"They- they were going to kill me!" The man squeaked when she approached. "Were they even human?"
"Let's just get you home buddy." MJ said kindly. "This'll all just be a bad dream by next week." He looked up at her and nodded. She offered a hand and he took it, standing. He swayed and MJ wedged a shoulder under his arm, steadying him.
MJ walked the man back to the club and stuck him in a taxi. Dean had gone around the back of the building to get her coat, figuring she'd want it back.
"And they say chivalry is dead." MJ quipped. She looked back at the taxi as it pulled away. She bit her lip and her brow furrowed. "Look... I really want to help you, but I've got another case lined up. I'd put it off but..."
"What kind of case?" Dean watched MJ's face shift to disbelief. "What? You can't multitask?" Then he cracked a wide grin.
