Disclaimer: I own nothing of Supernatural, just Nicole.

Nicole Saunders sat cross-legged on the motel bed, piles of text books and open notebooks all around her. The TV hummed softly in the background as she concentrated on a math problem before her. It was late at night, and yet Nicole was fully dressed in jeans and snickers; her long brown hair was pulled away from her face and propped beside her against the bed was a loaded shotgun.

Suddenly, Nicole's head shot up and her gaze fell on the room door. Cautiously, she reached down, grabbed the gun and stalked toward the door. Outside, the sounds of passing cars and crickets was interrupted by footsteps on the gravel road of the motel parking lot, barely audible.

Taking a deep breath, Nicole stood with her back against the wall in between the door and the window. Using the gun, she parted the curtains just a tad and peaked out into the night. The room was located at the far end of the building, in the darkest corner. In the gloomy night, Nicole could barely make out the form of a man, slowly making his way toward her motel room door. The man's stride was cool, calculated and he held himself as if ready to strike at any moment yet a slow swagger indicated he was tired.

Relieved, Nicole unlocked the bolt on the door and rushed out, throwing her arms around the man's neck as he drew closer, "Dad!"

"Hey, Sweetie," His voice was rough and exhausted, and when he entered the light of the room, Nicole could see his eyes were heavy, his face drawn and empty as it was more and more often when he come home from a hunt. He plopped down on the clean, unused bed and removed his shoes, "No trouble here?"

Nicole shook her head, closing and bolting the door behind them, "No, sir. You did get a call from John Winchester, though. He wanted you to call him back as soon as you got home."

Her father nodded, pulled out his phone as he sat on the bed and rubbed his eyes. After a few rings, John Winchester answered the phone.

"Hey, Carl," John's voice was a welcome relieve to Carl's ears, after all, he and John had been partners on their fair share of hunts over the years. "Listen, something big is going down and I need to make sure a few things are taken care of."

"Sure, John," Carl's brow furrowed, he didn't like the melancholy note of his friend's voice and worry began to form in his gut, "Anything you need."

Nicole perched on the edge of her bed, listening to her father's grunts and ok's. After a few minutes, the conversation ended and her dad reached for his shoes. Other than to tell her to pack her things, he was silent as he moved around the room, grabbing their sparse belongings and throwing them into a large duffle bag. Nicole obeyed, quickly cleaning up her books, pulling a large dagger from under her pillow and shoving it into her duffle. When the room was packed up, they headed out into the dark, loading Carl's truck and speeding off down the highway.

"Where are we going?" Nicole asked after the silence became too much.

"We're going to Windom, Wisconsin. John needs a favor, something he doesn't think he'll be around to do for himself. I'm going to need your help on this one, Sweetie," Carl explained.

"Sure, Dad, anything," Nicole's attention sparked, she'd been trained as a hunter her whole life and she was always eager to help on a hunt. "What are we hunting?"

"Not hunting," a single street lamp passed overhead, illuminating Carl's eyes in the rearview as he answered, "Protecting. His name is Adam Milligan."

Nicole stood on the curb, staring up at the massive building before her, a backpack swung over her shoulder, nervously biting her lip. In large block letters Bowmount High School leered down at her from above the front doors. Hundreds of fellow students rushed passed her, stopped to mingle with friends, and laughed loudly at each other. Doubt made Nicole hesitate. This would be her first time in a public school, surrounded by kids who knew nothing about the world Nicole had grown up in. They would think she was strange, different, and they wouldn't even know how far her differences ran. While they were all off enjoying their prep rallies and football games, she would be polishing a gun, or sharpening a knife, ready for anything just in case.

But she knew this was something that she had to do, because John Winchester had asked her father and her father had asked her and she would do anything for both of them. With a deep breath, Nicole tightened her grip on her backpack and headed inside.

Instantly, she knew she hated high school. There were too many people milling around, too much noise, too much perfume emanating from the cheerleaders, too much going on to prevent insurance that her job went down well.

This would definitely be an interesting job.

Fortunately, one thing did go smoothly. As Nicole walked into her first class, English 11, a quick sweep of the room told her that this class would give her a chance to make contact with the person that brought her here.

Adam Milligan sat toward the back of the room on the last row by the window. His dirty blond hair reflected the sun light and his blue eyes sparkled as he laughed with his friends sitting around him. For a moment, Nicole was distracted by his easy smile before she shook herself and frowned. His seat was by the window, making him an easy target for anything on the outside. Of course, he was non-the-wiser to the threats around him lurking in the dark, which is why it fell to Nicole to protect him. This wasn't her ideal of a hunt, but for some reason, this boy was important to John Winchester and that was good enough for her.

Suddenly, a stout, portly woman with hawk eyes and bad breath appeared in front of Nicole, "You must be the new student. I'm Mrs. Marcle."

Nicole smiled, "That's right. I'm Nicole Saunders."

With a grunt, the teacher turned to face the rest of the class, who fell silent and looked to front. "Class, we have a new student joining us today. This is Nicole Saunders."

Nicole waved, nervous as she felt the eyes of all the students on her, like a pack of hungry dogs staring her down. Don't be dramatic; she thought to herself, I'm sure they are all nice people.

After a moment of her standing there, the teacher sighed impatiently, "Well, tell us about yourself, already."

"Right," Nicole blushed, suddenly afraid that she would mess up on social protocol and give herself away. A few of the girls wearing cheer uniforms laughed. "My dad and I just moved into town. I've been homeschooled up until now, but with my dad's job, he'll be out of town a lot so I thought a change would be nice."

"Charming," Mrs. Marcle cut in, "Now, take your seat. Let's see," Her gaze swept the room and zeroed in on the very last desk of the very last row, "Right there. Behind Mr. Milligan."

Relieved, Nicole made her way to the back, ignoring the whispers circling the room. When she got to her seat, she dropped her backpack next to her chair as she had seen other students do and pulled out a notebook and pencil. Mrs. Marcle dropped a large text book on her desk and began a lecture on Shakespeare.

When Nicole looked up, Adam had turned around in his seat and was smiling at her.

"I'm Adam," His voice was a low whisper, "Welcome to Windon."

"Thanks," Nicole smiled, brushing her hair out of her face, before she nodded to the teacher, "Is she always this cranky?"

Adam chuckled, "Yeah, but you'll get use to it. The teacher you want to have is Mr. Frost for Chemistry, he's awesome."

"Yeah?" Nicole pulled out her schedule and glanced at the list of teachers, "Look at that, I have him third period."

"No way, so do I. Can I see your schedule?"

Nicole handed him her schedule, glad that things were going smoothly so far. Adam quickly glanced down the list and handed it back, "We also have Phys Ed and Pre-Calc together tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Why not today?" Nicole asked, confusion crinkling her brow.

Adam was about to explain the scheduling when Mrs. Marcle snapped at them to be quiet or teach the rest of the lesson. Grinning, Adam turned around leaving Nicole to wonder how exactly this high school thing was going to work out.

Halfway through class, Nicole noticed a girl in the next row over a few seats up. She was turned in her seat, her blonde hair pulled into a pony tail, a cheer uniform barely covering any of her, and her brown eyes focused intently on Nicole. When Nicole looked at her, she smirked and tossed her hair over her shoulder before turning to face the front again. Mentally, Nicole made a note to keep an eye on the girl as a potential threat; maybe later, she'd throw some holy water on her to see if she burned.

When the bell finally rang, dismissing class, Adam turned back to Nicole, "Are you going to your locker?"

Nicole slid her book into her backpack and swung it over her shoulder, "No, I'll just carry it."

"Alright," Adam grinned, "but you'll probably want to put your books away by the end of the day."

Following Adam out of the room, Nicole asked, "So, what did you mean by 'tomorrow?'"

Expertly, Adam wound his way around the hordes of kids stampeding through the hall as he explained, "The classes are split up into two day rotations. We'll have first through fourth today, then fifth through eighth tomorrow. On Wednesday, we'll go back to the beginning. Fridays we have all eight classes, but they're shorter."

Nicole nodded in understanding, "What about extracurricular activities? Do you participate in any?"

With a laugh, Adam responded, "Me? Well, I'm in the math league but that doesn't start up until November. I also play soccer in the spring."

Nicole made another mental note before realizing that she didn't know where they were, not to mention where her next class was. Chiding herself for being careless, she glanced around, "Shoot, I better go find my class, I don't want to be late."

"No worries," Adam reassured, "Mr. Brown's history class is right here. I have history with Mrs. Finnegan next door."

Nicole smiled, "Good thing I followed you then."

"Yeah, good thing," Adam grinned back and Nicole made sure to lather on the charm as she said goodbye in the hopes that she could befriend Adam and make her job easier.