Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

CRIMSON ANGEL

HALLOWEEN CHEER

Miami, Florida.

He tapped the steering wheel, following the beat of the drums that blasted from the speakers as a smirk lit his face. He watched the bikini clad beach goers who went from sidewalk to sand and back, his eyes catching on a beauty in a little black number as she adjusted the tiny triangles that kept her decent. The sun was dipping below the horizon, plunging Miami into orange hues, but still the beach was full, oh so tantalizingly full. He knew that soon they would leave though, would pack up their beach towels, their sun kissed skin heading for the clubs and bars of Miami to enjoy the festivities of a Halloween celebration that would last the week.

'Dean?'

He startled, reaching to turn the music down a notch as his brother climbed into the passenger seat, bags of steaming food tucked in the cradle of his arm. He licked his lips, already tasting the cheesy goodness of the hamburger he knew was nestled in that bag, just waiting for him to take a bite. He reached for the package that Sam held, pulling it straight into his lap to dig inside, a grin stretching his lips as he reached the prize.

'Hungry?'

He glanced to his brother again, still feeling his way to his hamburger. 'Nah, I've been waiting here for half an hour. Of course I'm hungry, bitch.'

'Jerk,' Sam instantly replied, taking a bite of his sandwich. 'The lines weren't exactly short.'

Dean bit into his hamburger, nearly moaning at the cheesy goodness that soaked his tongue. He enjoyed it, every bite that all too quickly turned to crumbs which he brushed from his hands. He glanced to his brother, meaning to say thanks, but the look on Sam's face suggested he keep his mouth shut, lest he receive another lecture on his unhealthy eating habits. He exercised, worked out; what was wrong with enjoying a little junk food? Besides, they had a job to do tonight, and there was no way he was doing it on an empty stomach, not when the growls and grumbles that demand food might distract him.

He grabbed the empty food packages and paper bags, tossing them from the window, a grin on his lips as it bounced on the rim of the nearby bin before tumbling inside. He looked to his brother, but Sam rolled his eyes, pulling out his laptop. Dean shrugged, not bothered as he turned his music up again, blasting it in the car as he waited for his brother to finish any final research.

They already knew what was out there, had tracked the monster from South Bay to Miami Beach. It was a good hunting ground for the creature, but they still didn't know where it would go to hunt, what opportunities it would make the most of in the city. It was Halloween, and though it was the middle of the week, most places would be full of partiers just looking for an excuse to drink til they dropped.

'Here,' Sam said, pulling Dean's attention from a feast for his eyes yet again to point at the screen, 'there's a big Halloween party that will take over the entire night club. Looks like there'll be hundreds of people there.'

Dean reached for the key, the engine roaring to life before it settled into a delicious purr. 'Well Sammy, guess we're going clubbing,' he said, peeling away from the curb, a smirk on his lips as the bikini clad girls nearby turned to look, to appreciate the 1967 Impala that he loved so dearly. He revved, roaring up the street towards their motel, knowing they should start to gear up. By the time they got to the club, they would be covered in silver from head to toe, the blades concealed by their clothes.

This was his life, his brother's life too. They were raised on it, on hunting the things that go bump in the night and even in the day. It wasn't pretty, wasn't what they wanted, but knowing that they were saving people made it at least a little easier to live with the horrors they had seen.

Barely.

The minute hand was yet to strike midnight and the music was pounding, the bodies on the floor grinding against each other in the rhythm of hormones as the club hummed. The music was techno, a haunting scream or howl mixed with the beats, making what should have been eerie tragically clichéd. She wanted to roll her eyes at the costumes around her, at the ignorance of the people that dressed as creatures she had encountered, monsters that would tear them apart in seconds. How could she judge them though, when she envied them? She wished that she didn't know about monsters, that she had never come to have the knowledge that haunted her constantly.

But there was no point wishing for things to be different, as she had learnt long ago, so she fluffed her hair gently, some of the lengthy curls that tumbled down her back falling over her shoulders before she made her way into the crowd. She was jostled, but using strength that no one would believe she possessed, she easily parted the gyrating bodies, catching the eyes of men that nearly dropped their jaws. She offered them a wicked smile, some a flick of her tongue over the specially fitted fangs, but nothing more. She was looking for someone – something – and wouldn't be distracted. Oh, she would flirt with some to build the illusion of a carefree party girl, but there was only one face she was truly looking for, a mask better than any others that danced around her in the strobe and laser lights.

The hunting ground was perfect, but the monster would be surprised. In a room full of hundreds of faux monsters, it would believe that it would not be seen, that its true face would be confused for brilliant make up rather than a nightmare. She knew what she was looking for though, and her disguise was just as good, even if it was simple. Beneath the heavy eye-liner and mascara, pale skin that was nearly blue in the light, eyes made white by contacts and hair curled rather than pulled in a tight braid, no one would recognise her.

The monster would not know what hit it.

Dean pulled the Impala close to the curb, climbing out to join the mass of party-goers on the street. He sneered, watching a werewolf walk past, pitiful growls and howls echoing through the corny mask. He joined his brother, straightening his jacket with disgust. 'I can't believe these people,' he mumbled, nearly ripping the plastic scythe from the hands of a passer-by, wanting to snap the bloody thing in half.

'It's Halloween Dean, what were you expecting?'

'I don't know, some fear maybe?' he said as he stalked forward, Sam easily keeping pace with massive strides. 'Would it kill them to be scared of all the crap out there, just for one night?'

'They don't believe in what we've seen, Dean, and they'd lock us away if we tried to tell them about it.'

'Yeah, yet we're their best friends when a ghost comes knocking.'

Sam ignored him, but Dean was used to the silent treatment on occasion. He used the quiet to focus, to school his features as they walked past the line of vampires, zombies and other horror movie extras. His eyes caught on an angel and a devil clad in little but lingerie and wings or horns, a grin crossing his lips before an elbow to his side from Sam had him snapping – reluctantly – out of his ogling. He cleared his throat, stopping at the front of the line, ignoring the protests that came from the people who were so close to getting in.

'Back of the line, boys,' Frankenstein's monster said, his jaw set, the bolts stuck to his thick neck surprisingly realistic.

'We really need to get inside,' Sam said.

'Even if I let you cut this line, which isn't going to happen, you're not in costume.' He pointed a thick finger to a poster that advertised the party. Dean and Sam zoned in, frowning at the line that read: costume mandatory. They would not be deterred though, each reaching into their pockets, perfectly synchronised as they pulled leather wallets out.

Dean sighed. 'We didn't want to do this–'

'But you've left us with no choice,' Sam finished.

They flipped them open to reveal the gold of badges and the thick black text on ID cards, Frankenstein's monster's eyes widening at the sight. Still he remained in place, folding thick arms over his broad chest as he said, 'I'm sorry, but I still can't let you in. Flashing a badge doesn't mean you get to cut the line.'

Dean glared. 'There is a fugitive hiding in this establishment. If you do not let us in, you will destroy a seventeen month undercover operation, and he will get away. Now, unless you'd like us to talk to your boss about the drug lord who is running operations from this night club, a man who you allowed to enter, then let us pass.'

Frankenstein's monster gulped, looking like he was about to tug at one of the bolts in his neck, though he seemed to resist as he pulled the rope aside for them. They nodded, making their way inside though a corridor covered in cobwebs and Halloween garb to a door, where they again flashed their badges before tucking them into their jacket pockets. They glanced at each other, sharing a small smile before they broke into the throbbing music and blinding lights that cut through the darkness of the multi-level club.

It was almost midnight, and the alcohol had been flowing for some time. Dean wanted nothing more than to take a seat at the bar and down a beer – or four – but there was a job to do. He scanned the crowd, ignoring the looks that were thrown at him and his brother by the costumed partiers. He knew they looked out of place, but there was no way he was going to embarrass himself by putting on an outfit that was supposed to scare when he had lived the horrors these people laughed at.

That, and there was no way in hell he was ever going to wear make up, not for anybody or any reason.

They weren't sure what they were looking for. They'd only caught a glimpse of the wraith and the face it used to appear human. For all they knew, it had changed its "mask" since they saw it. However, each carried a mirror with which they could spot the hideous creature if it chose to use a human face rather than pretend to be a celebrant of Halloween.

He scanned the crowd, searching, hoping they would spot the wraith sooner rather than later as he was jostled by the surrounding dancers. Oh, he didn't mind having numerous girls bump or "bump" into him, but until he and Sam found the wraith, he wouldn't be pursing any of the lovely ladies, even if he wanted to get to know some of the hands that groped at him far better.

He frowned, shouldering past a group of zombies, his brow set in a hard line. He shoved a few more partiers aside, growling when the bodies refused to move from the places they had claimed on the floor. He was considering pulling a weapon when Sam reached past him, parting the crowd with a massive hand, a few curses thrown their way as they managed a few more feet towards the other side and the bar that Dean would not pass, on the job or not.

They had nearly made it out of the grinding bodies when Dean felt a hand grip his jacket, a little firmer than the others that had tugged in curiosity. He stopped, eyebrows arching as hands came to rest on his chest, the wicked red of fingernails flashing as a spot light passed over him. His eyes followed the length of pale arms, so slender and perfect they were like porcelain, to bare shoulders, covered only by curls that tumbled well past her waist. The shifting of her hands on his chest drew his eyes higher, unable to break his stare as he locked onto white eyes and the reddest, plumpest lips he had ever seen.

He resisted the urge to gulp as her tongue traced her top lip, pausing at a fang, his mind a jumbled mess in which there was only one clear thought.

Sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph; that's one vampire I wouldn't mind getting to know better.

He opened his mouth, ready to say something that would draw her in to the web that was the charm of Dean Winchester, but before he could utter even a letter she smirked, walking past, a hand travelling over Sam's broad chest and eyes locking with his before she blended with the crowd.

Sam met Dean's gaze, their jaws loose before Dean finally managed, 'when we've killed that wraith…shot gun.'

Dean saw Sam ready a comeback, but he was already busy forcing his way through the last of the crowd, determined to find the wraith.

Now.

He set his sights on the bar, nearly stumbling as he finally pushed past the last couple of bodies that stood in his way. He swivelled, spotting Sam just behind him, having only slightly less trouble making it through the crowd. He scanned the dancers once more, desperate to see the "masked" wraith but not finding it. He was about to pull out the mirror when he spotted those gorgeous curls in the crowd, his eyes drawn to them though he knew he should look away. His stomach churned as he watched her getting close and personal with a monster of a man dressed as Beast from X-Men, a fitting costume considering his size. He grabbed her waist, arm snaking around her from behind, a sneer coming over Dean's lips, until her flirtatious dance turned subtly violent.

Her elbow shot back, Beast obviously losing his breath, giving her a chance to drag him from the dance floor. She winked at those who bothered to look at her, suggesting she was taking him somewhere private, but the reason wasn't what most would assume.

'Sammy,' Dean said, grabbing his brother and yelling over the thumping beats.

'What?' Sam asked, just as loud.

'I found the wraith.' Dean tugged Sam forward, parting the crowd easier in his hot pursuit. He took the same door she had dragged Beast through, into a corridor that led to the bathrooms, people against the wall on all sides as hands roamed. Dean ignored them, heading for the door down the opposite end that read: Employees Only.

'Who was it?'

'The girl,' Dean replied, 'the one I was too busy staring at to notice there was something strange about her.'

Sam reached for the handle, thinking it would be locked, but the door inched open. He looked to Dean who nodded, already reaching for silver blades as together they counted.

They broke through the door, blades at the ready, their eyes locking onto a mane of curls that flowed like a cape behind her as she leapt towards Beast. Dean's eyes widened as he took a closer look at Beast, the painted blue skin blistering and burning as she sliced the blade across his arms. Before the brothers could gather their jaws from the floor, she lunged, ducking under the arm that held the thin protrusion that the wraith used to feed and slam the blade to the hilt in the monster's chest. It let out an agonized cry, a hand reaching for the blade in vain before it collapsed.

Dean could do nothing but watch as she bent to withdraw the silver, the slit that ran the length of her dress showing her slender leg all the way to the top of her thigh. She wiped the blade on the shirt of the monster before she straightened, flicking those gorgeous curls over her head in a wave of starlight blonde that shone even in the little light of the back room.

She spotted them in the dim light, standing dumbstruck with blades drawn. She smirked, watching Dean watch her as she flicked her dress aside, revealing even more of her supple skin before she sheathed the blade on her inner thigh. 'You boys are here to clean up for me?' she asked, walking forward, her plat-formed stilettos clicking on the tiled floor. She stopped in front of Dean, those wicked red lips curling into a smile that had him nearly reaching for his collar, especially when she leant a little closer, barely coming to his height even in the heels.

His breath came sharp as she brushed her lips past his ear, saying 'that's so kind of you.'

She pulled away, flashing the same wicked smile at Sam as she walked past, both Winchesters staring like fools for a moment as she walked towards the door before, finally, Sam called, 'wait.'

She paused, looking over her shoulder, the starlight curls obscuring her face slightly. 'Yes?'

'You need to dispose of the body,' Sam said, Dean glancing to his younger brother, swearing for a moment that the man had nearly stumbled over the words.

'And why would I do that when two strong boys like yourselves have shown up just in time?' she asked, an innocence shining in her eyes that both Dean and Sam knew was faked. 'I don't want to risk getting blood on my dress. It is a one of a kind after all.'

Sam opened his mouth, obviously intending to grill her, but she disappeared though the door.

No way was he losing sight of her again. 'Sammy, clean up,' he called as he sprinted for the door.

'Hey, Dean!'

'I can't let her get away with this.'

On the dance floor again, he kept sight of those remarkable curls that shone white in the light of the club, ignoring the angry shouts of the grinding couples that he disrupted. He expected her to exit through the main entrance, but she veered off just before, taking a side exit that led them into an alleyway. He was only seconds behind, but already she was sliding into a 1970 Ford Torino Cobra, his jaw dropping once again as the gorgeously maintained classic roared to life, tearing down the alleyway as a streak of blue and white.

Dean took a breath, trying to get his bearings, a part of him thinking that he should go back inside. However, a stronger and far more dominant part of his brain was projecting only one word.

Damn.

He felt a hand wrench his shoulder back, turning him towards a glaring Sam. 'Dean, we've got to get out of here.'

'What about–'

'Everyone will just assume that it was a drug deal gone wrong, especially after our little stunt to get in,' Sam said, shifting his jacket, obviously hiding something. 'Besides, I removed the spike it used to feed, then slit up the other wrist. Cops will think it's part of a gang killing. They'll be too busy trying to figure out which group did it to worry too much about the less…human like qualities of the victim.'

Dean frowned, glancing as his brother shifted his jacket again. 'Man, that's just gross.'

'Best thing I could think of on short notice after you ran off,' he said, turning down the alleyway, massive strides taking him in the complete opposite direction that Dean wanted to go. Oh, he wouldn't have a chance of catching that Cobra, but damn he wanted to try. He stared at the night for a moment, the taillights no where to be seen. To have never even learnt her name…

As a hunter, she would have given a cover, but to put a name to those porcelain features was all he wanted. For now, he'd just have to think of her as…as…the crimson angel, with lips as red as the drops that had rolled down that silver blade.

He frowned, turning reluctantly to follow his brother, knowing that those pale eyes and that starlight hair would haunt his most beautiful dreams.

Welcome, to a new fan fiction

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of

Crimson Angel

This fanfiction will be updated every Saturday for now, but will be updated Wednesdays as well in the near future.

I hope you'll look out for chapter two, aka Fangs, on the 9th of April.

~ Ryuk In Person ~