A/N: Ok, my attention has recently been drawn to the fact that I'm a very very bad person. I started this fic forever ago, but then I kind of gave up on it a bit... Massive case of writers' block and just kind of lack of inspiration I guess. I have now been encouraged to start up with it again. I had a prologue-y bit before, but I realized it was restricting me too much with what I might want to do so I've taken that out and I've made a couple of other alterations too. And, yes, it was that long ago that the fic is set in Season 1 (although that's only really clear from the lack of angst over John, I guess), at some point after Home.

I wanted to say thanks very much (and, I guess, sorry - hangs head in shame) to the people who took the time to review before. And especially to Lucy, my partner in Supernatural obsession and fast becoming my muse, and to SadeLyrate, whose review a couple of days ago really spurred me on to get on with this! (If someone could let me know what Mpreg means, that would be wonderful...) It's still my first proper fanfic, so, seriously, any feedback – especially constructive criticism – is really welcome.

Sorry – this was really wordy and boring, promise I won't say so much in the future! For now, here's just the first chapter – hope you enjoy it, I will try to update as regularly as possible.

Disclaimer: I'm just as disappointed as everyone else that I don't own those beautiful boys or their car...

Expect The Unexpected

"Dean, I'm serious, don't you dare even think it." Dean chuckled softly to himself as he climbed into the driver's seat of his beloved black Chevy Impala. His younger brother had always disapproved of his flirting and womanizing, especially when they were working on a case. He wasn't really serious about trying anything on with Julia, the young woman they were here to help, but he knew Sam was getting riled up – and there was nothing Dean loved more than antagonizing his little brother. Well, almost nothing... He grinned to himself as he replied.

"Come on, man, when you've got it, you've got it – no point wasting it!"

Right on cue, Sam slammed shut the passenger door and fixed Dean with his patented disapproving glare. "Hey, dude," Dean protested, "more care with the car!"

"Dean, we're here to kill that spirit. That girl is vulnerable right now – you can't take advantage of her. Not to mention the fact that she doesn't even know your real name..."

The older sibling had heard this all many times – too many times – before, and was already getting bored. Slamming the car into gear and screeching out of the driveway, he interrupted the tirade. "God, Sam, don't you ever get tired of the self-righteous bit? Look, I wouldn't go there with Julia, and, you know what, don't insult me by thinking I'm not just as focused on killing this thing as you are. I'm not being serious, OK? Get over yourself already."

"You're not being serious. Of course you're not being serious..." muttered Sam to himself.

"Huh? Something else you wanna say?" asked Dean, glancing over at his brother before turning his attention back to the road. Not that he actually thought there was much need for watching the road - not gonna meet much traffic out in Nowheresville, USA.

"It was nothing, don't worry about it," said Sam quietly before settling into silence for the rest of the drive. His brother wasn't the most careful of drivers at the best of times, and he didn't really want tempers to start flaring while they were on the road. The argument could wait for later.

Dean pushed open the door to their $30-a-night room in the Sleepeazy Motel. As usual, it took him a second to give the room a quick once-over to check for anything lurking in the shadows. When he was sure it was safe, he walked in, tossed his car keys on the table next to his chosen bed and unzipped his holdall to take out a towel.

"Sammy, I'm taking a shower," he called out, walking towards the bathroom door.

He was stopped short by the tone of Sam's voice as he threw his own holdall on the other bed: "Dean, we're gonna sit down first and figure out what we're dealing with here."

Great, here we go again thought Dean snidely. College boy with the work ethic and the research.

"Look, man," he snapped back, "I've been driving all day and it's, like midnight. I'm tired and I'm gonna take a shower. Besides, that spirit is clearly your standard poltergeist-with-a-grudge – a couple bags of that angelica root mixture that Missouri gave us in the walls will deal with it. Julia's at her sister's and safe tonight – we can deal tomorrow." He could see Sam's expression getting more and more furious. Noted, and ignored. He wasn't going to get into this now – all Dean wanted at that moment was a shower and sleep, and that was what he was going to get.

"Hey, man, you know I'm right", he threw back over his shoulder as he headed back to the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him and turned the shower further and further up in defiance as Sam started yelling through the door at him: "You know what? Fine! But you ARE gonna take this seriously in the morning, and we're not going back into that house without knowing exactly what we're up against first. Dean, are you listening to me? Dammit, Dean!" Dean breathed a sigh of relief as one last frustrated thump on the door punctuated the end of Sam's little outburst.

Dean's whole body tensed up as he stepped under the shower – as usual, the motel's water heaters weren't working and the cascade raining down on him was freezing cold. "Jesus", he hissed under his breath before clamping his chattering teeth together. Come on, I should be used to this by now he thought, forcing his body to relax as he felt the dust of another few hundred miles of highway washing off him and down the drain.

Dean emerged from the shower half an hour later, wrapped a towel around his waist and walked back out into the bedroom. He steeled himself to ignore some more demands from Sam that he do some research before going to sleep, but his pre-emptive sarcastic reply died on his lips as he saw that his younger brother had already crashed out, his soft snores a sign of how quickly he'd fallen into an exhausted sleep. The relief at avoiding another argument was accompanied by the re-surfacing of Dean's protective-older-brother instincts. Dean was always glad to see his little brother getting a moment of peace – they were pretty few and far between with this gig.

Dean almost jumped out of his skin as a sudden noise broke the utter silence in the room. What the hell? he wondered, spinning round to pinpoint the source of the disturbance. Idiot! he reprimanded himself silently as he realized the insistent buzzing was the sound of his cellphone vibrating in the pocket of his jacket, discarded along with his other clothes in a heap on the bathroom floor.

He grabbed the phone out of the pocket quickly, wanting to stop it ringing before the noise woke his brother. The number wasn't recognized by his phone, but as soon as he'd closed the door and connected to the caller, he knew what the call was about – and it definitely wasn't good.

He instantly recognized the fear in Julia's voice – it was all too familiar to him. He adopted his most reassuring tone: "Hey, hey, calm down Julia. You're talking too quickly – slow down and tell me what's up."

"Dean... I – I did something really stupid. I forgot something when I went over to my sister's earlier, and... and... "

Dean's heart began to sink as he realized what was coming next – why couldn't people just realize when they should just stay well away from something and leave someone who knew what they were doing to deal with it?

"Julia, did you go back to your house? Alone?" he asked.

"Y – yes," she stammered. "Dean, more weird stuff is happening – I'm scared. Please – would you help me?"

Dean immedately felt remorse for the frustration that he knew had been obvious in his voice the last time he spoke. Naive or not, Julia could be in deep trouble. He switched straight into the calm, coping-with-a-crisis, ready-for-anything mode that he'd managed to hone over years of hunting.

"OK, Julia, don't worry. I'll be right there. Our motel's only a couple minutes' drive away." He heard a scream on the other end of the line and a noise that sounded horribly like a phone being dropped on the floor. "Julia? Julia? Dammit!" he cursed as the call was cut off from the other end.

Dean ran out of the bathroom, hastily pulled on some clothes, grabbed his car keys from his bed and instinctively went to wake his brother. Just before he yelled his brother's name, though, something that Dean couldn't explain stopped him in his tracks. Sam was still fast asleep, sprawled over his bed, and instead of waking him, Dean grabbed a piece of paper, scrawled a note explaining where he'd gone and stepped quietly out of the door alone.

As Dean headed quickly out across the parking lot towards his car, he felt a twinge of shame at not having woken his brother. He could tell himself that he had just wanted to let Sam take advantage of the possibility of a night's peace, and that was definitely a part of it. He knew, though, that his own stubbornness and the memory of their earlier argument had kept him from doing what he knew probably would have been the sensible thing. Dean tried to hold back these thoughts, knowing that time was of the serious essence and there was no point wasting precious moments turning back or regretting what he'd done. The mood he's in, he'll probably STILL want to do research before going back there anyway," he thought bitterly as he pulled open the car door. Dean was out to prove a point now – he'd hunted on his own before, he knew what he was doing, he could deal with one poltergeist on his own, for crying out loud.

By the time he'd burnt rubber out of the parking lot, Dean had almost managed to convince himself that he'd done the right thing.