Disclaimer: Neither Jordan nor I own Supernatural.

A/N: And the long-awaited sequel to (as in posted two days after the end of XD) Trust arrives!

Jordan: And, again, it's unnamed.

Me: I blame you.

Jordan: Evs! Anyway, everybody please review?

Chapter One – What Gandhi Really Meant

"Okay, in the past week, seven women have vanished. One for each day. Their bodies are never found. This happens once a year, and it's been happening for 80 years."

Jordan sat at her computer doing research for a hunt. Dean was lying on one of the two king sized beds eating chili fries, Lyn was sitting on the other sharpening knives and cleaning guns, and Sam was sitting opposite Jordan with a stack of books piled next to him.

"Any of them known hunters?" Lyn asked, raising her eyebrows and brushing her hair behind her ear. "Hard to believe this could've gone on for nearly a century without someone catching on and trying to do something about it…"

"I don't recognize any of them, but I'll get the names out on my informant net and see if anybody recognizes any of the names."

Jordan started typing and Lyn ran a polishing cloth over the already gleaming blade of a throwing knife thoughtfully. 80 years was definitely too long for it to be any sort of human killer, not that it was very likely that any human could abduct that many women and not leave evidence, anyway.

"Any sort of common thread, or is it more or less random? You know, besides the fact that they're all women…"

"Umm… other than the pattern it's in and the fact that they're all women between the ages of 20 and 30, no. I just sent e-mails to some of my informants. I guess we'll know soon, but for now… I guess we have to wait."

Jordan sighed, got up from the chair, and flopped down on the bed next to Dean.

"Yeah, don't help me or anything," Lyn said, rolling her eyes. "You'll need all that practice in loafing around and eating chili fries when we're on hunts, you know. But having properly taken-care of weaponry? Nah… that'll never come in handy."

"Shfut uhp," Jordan mumbled into the bed, then flipped over onto her back. "Researching takes a lot out of you… I feel like I have nothing left in me. I can't even move. I need fries to replenish my strength."

Jordan reached for Dean's fries but he pulled them away. "Nuh uh… I don't think so. These are mine. Get your own."

"Oh! So you'll share a bed with me but you won't give me chili fries!? That's nice, Dean… real nice…" Jordan rolled her eyes, got off the bed and flopped on the other bed, nearly crushing Lyn in the process.

"Are you out of your freaking mind, woman!?" Lyn demanded, shoving Jordan off her. "Or do you just have a death wish!? I mean, seriously! What part of 'newly sharpened knives' are you not comprehending?"

Jordan laughed hysterically for no reason.

"Is she drunk or something? High? Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs?" Dean asked Lyn while Jordan lay on the ground laughing.

Lyn shook her head and shrugged. "All of the above? Not like I know. I think, last I checked, it was called 'being Jordan.' She has a lot of talent at that. Like how she's currently stealing your chili fries while you're busy wondering if she's lost her mind."

"Are you -- JORDAN! Give me back my fries! I'm hungry!" Dean yelled.

"You're always hungry, Deano! I think you'll live if I have some fries… I'll get you more fries later. But I think you've learned a very special lesson today. Never underestimate Jordan. 'Kay? Good."

Jordan sat down on the bed next to Lyn, who tried not to grin.

"See, Dean, this is what you get for being a jerk and not sharing," Lyn said in mock disappointment. "It's like karma or something. Horde your chili fries and, some day, someone shall come along and steal them and horde them herself. It's totally what Gandhi and Malcolm X were really talking about."

Jordan laughed out loud. "Good one, Lyn."

Sam smirked into his book and looked over the top at Lyn.

Dean, however, was not pleased. He lay on the bed mourning the loss of his fries.

Lyn rolled her eyes. "You act like you lost your firstborn or something just now, man. It's quite scary that you value chili fries so highly."

She then switched her gaze to Sam and attempted not to smirk, too. "What? You gonna correct me with the popular view of Gandhi's message or something?"

Sam chuckled, still smirking, and answered, "Nope, I think you pretty much hit the nail on the head with that one."

"Those were good…" Jordan smiled.

Dean looked over at her, expression crestfallen.

Jordan looked over at him. "Aww…" She then went over to him and sat on his stomach.

"Oh, quit it with the smirking like a donkey eating saw briars," Lyn complained, throwing a pillow at Sam. "Either say something constructive or quit looking all conspiratory."

"Jeez, can't a guy be happy without getting his head chopped off?" Sam fake-sighed and then hung his head.

Jordan straddled Dean. She kept flicking his head, and he kept wincing every time, growing closer to snapping.

Lyn rolled her eyes and made a face at Sam. "Last I checked, that was a pillow I threw at you, smart aleck, not a saw blade. But if you really want to be decapitated, I'm sure I could accomplish that with one of these knives… eventually." She finished speaking with a crooked grin and accentuated her point by twirling the blade she had just been polishing between her fingers.

Sam laughed. "Sure, I'd like to see you try… See, now why can't we be more like them?" He gestured over to Dean and Jordan, who were making out on the bed, then grimaced at the sight of his brother and friend, shuddered, and looked away.

"Because they creep me out," Lyn answered simply. "Hence the averting of my eyes. And I thought finding my cousin making out with my best friend was creepy." She shook her head and then smirked and added, "And I'd advise against telling me to try decapitating you. The last time someone told me he'd like to see me try to stab him, he got his wish."