"OK, we can't all go in to talk to the widow. How about Dean and I go in to question her and you two can go get us a hotel room?" John said. He was most used to working with Dean.

"Sure," Sam said and he and Mary went off to the hotel. He knew that he always ended up fighting with his dad when they hunted together. His father never trusted his instincts. Didn't think he knew enough about anything. Things were going to have to change, but it wasn't all going to happen on day one, so he might as well go off with his dad.

As Mary headed off with Sam, she was also glad of the arrangement. She didn't want to hunt. She had never wanted to hunt. But she didn't want to leave her family and she didn't know if she could fend for herself. She knew nothing about computers, or cell phones, or microwaves. All the things the rest of her family seemed to take for granted.

Dean beamed with pride that his father had chosen to work with him. He had missed his father. Even before his dad had died, he had missed him. He had been so hurt when he had just ditched him like that. Things had been strained between them the four years Sam was away at college. They had each blamed the other for his departure and it had taken its toll on their relationship.

They knocked on the door. "FBI," they said, flashing their badges and IDs that Dean had made up for them yesterday.

"Come in," she said and led them into the kitchen.

"How many razors did the police find?" John asked to get her attention as Dean looked around.

"7. How is that even possible?"

Dean opened the oven and the woman turned around. "The candy was never in the oven."

"Just being thorough," Dean said lamely. He was glad that he had looked, though, because he found a hex bag there. When she had turned back towards John he held up the bag for his father to see.

John wasn't sure what Dean was holding up to show him. It just looked like a little bag. Then he realized it was a hex bag. He hadn't dealt with any witches since before Sam left for college. He remembered that case. The coven was making a potion that involved a lot of spit and some of it had gotten on Dean. He had expressed his displeasure volubly.

"Did your husband have any enemies? A woman maybe?" John asked. He had found that most witches were either bitter old maids or bored housewives.

"Are you suggesting an affair?" she asked outraged. "No way. Besides, if someone wanted to kill my husband, don't you think they would find a better way to do it than a razor blade in a piece of candy that he might or might not eat?"

It was a reasonable question, but of course, she didn't know about the hex bag and witches. John and Dean apologized and left.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"Here," Dean said and threw the hex bag to Sam when they got to their hotel room.

"You find this at the scene?" Sam asked.

"Yep. So, witches, right? I hate witches."

"Yeah, we know, spewing bodily fluids," Sam said in a distracted manner as he studied the contents of the bag.

"Witches. I've never gone up against a witch before," Mary said. "Aren't they human?"

"Yeah, but they get their power from demons," Dean said, justifying witch hunting.

"They do?" John asked. This was news to him.

"This is a very heavy duty hex bag," Sam said.

"How so?" John asked.

"This is a bone from a human baby, and this is an old celtic medallion," Sam said, holding up two of the items.

"Human bone?" Dean clarified.

"That's disgusting."

"Well, it's at least a couple hundred years old, if that makes you feel better."

"Not particularly," Dean responded.

"OK, so how do we find a witch?" Mary asked.

"That's always the problem," Dean said. "Could be anybody."

The Next Morning

"There was another death today?" Sam said, coming back from getting dinner for everyone.

"What happened?" John asked.

"High school girl at the school Halloween party died bobbing for apples."

"I've never thought of that as a particularly dangerous activity," Mary commented.

"Did she drown?" Dean asked.

"Nope, the water turned into a boiling vat while she was in there."

"Dean and I will check out the last vic, you and Mary check out the crime scene," John ordered and left with Dean.

Sam sighed. He didn't know how long he could take his father bossing him around before he felt the urge to fight with him. OK, he already felt the urge, how long he could fight it.

"What's wrong?" Mary asked him as they headed out to the school.

"Nothing. It's just that Dad's a bit bossy."

Mary smiled. "He's always been that way."

"So, it's not just because of hunting?"

"Nope."

The school wasn't far and it only took them a few minutes to get there. They walked in and Sam saw a cop talking to a teenage girl wrapped in a blanket.

"You look around, I'll talk to her," Mary said.

Sam walked over to the other side of the room and started looking for a hex bag.

The police officer just finished talking with the girl so Mary walked up to her. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Yeah. Who are you?"

"My name's Mary. I'm a psychiatrist. They sent me over to talk with any kids. This will be the first experience with death a lot of you have. What happened?"

"I don't know. It was weird. I was just bobbing for apples before Jenny and the water was fine. I don't understand."

"Did your friend know Luke Ellis?" Mary asked.

"I don't know who that is. I have to go now," she said.

"OK. What's your name?" Mary asked.

"Tracy Jones," she said as she left.

"Did you find anything out?" Sam asked as he walked up.

"No, did you find a…what's it called again?"

"A hex bag and yes I did. Let's get out of here and find out what Dad and Dean found out."