Dean stared at Martha. "I'm not sure if I should be thankful or suspicious."

"A bit of both might be your best option," Martha responded casually.

"Right…" Dean covered the corpse of the old man whose blood he collected. "You don't seem to be freaked out by the idea of vampires."

"I've seen a lot of weird things in my life." Martha shrugged.

"Like vampires in a hospital?"

"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," Martha replied, borrowing his earlier line.

"Try me."

"Vampire like humanoid aliens called plasmavores."

"Aliens?" Dean shook his head with a laugh. "Why are the cute ones always bat shit crazy?"

"I could say the same about you," Martha countered. "You're the one nicking blood off a dead man."

Dean smirked. "So you think I'm cute?"

Martha rolled her eyes playfully. "Don't be cheeky."

"Lady, I can be anything you want me to be," Dean retorted as he took a step closer.

"Doctor," Martha corrected him. "Dr. Martha Jones."

"Dean."

The door to the morgue swung open again. "Martha?" Britney stepped inside. "What are you doing down here?"

Martha turned to face Britney. "You switched Mr. Meriwether's chart with Mr. Thurgood's," she informed her.

"I did?"

"Yea." Martha frowned. "But if you didn't know about the switch, then why did you come down to the morgue?"

Britney exhaled sharply. "So smart, but so dumb." She opened her mouth wide revealing large sharp teeth.

Martha took a step backwards. "That's new."

"Move!" Dean yelled as he pushed past Martha with a syringe in hand. He lunged for Britney and was met with a swift kick to the face. Dean hit the ground hard and the syringe in his hand rolled towards Martha.

Martha instinctively grabbed the syringe and charged Britney. The two women wrestled between the tables before Britney slammed Martha into the wall of freezers.

"Don't let her get her blood on you," Dean warned.

Britney made to bite Martha on the neck, but Martha caught her with an elbow to nose. With Britney stunned, Martha took the opportunity to plunge the syringe in her neck.

"Dammit," Britney cursed softly as she dropped to the ground.

Martha dropped the empty syringe and stared at Britney's body. "Is she dead?" She panted softly.

"No," Dean groaned as he pulled himself up. "Just paralyzed. Temporarily. So we need to work fast."

Martha leaned against the hood of Dean's car with blood on her hands. She trembled slightly as she attempted to rub the stains away on a rag Dean had given her. It was nearly dawn and they were in a wooded area north of Chicago. She believed Dean had called the town Glencoe. She looked up as Dean loaded the last of the headless corpses onto the fire. Dean had interrogated Britney until she revealed the location of the rest of her nest.

"You alright?" Dean asked gently as he walked towards her.

Martha exhaled slowly. "I will be."

He stood next to her. "You fight like a freaking warrior," he marveled with a chuckle.

"Not like a warrior." Martha shook her head. "A solider."

Dean looked down at her hands. They were shaking. "Soldiers usually have steadier hands." Martha balled her hands into fists at his words. "First kill?" he asked.

"No," she replied softly. "But it never feels right." She looked up at him. "I'm a doctor. I'm supposed to be saving lives not taking them."

"You saved my life back there," Dean reminded her.

Martha shrugged. "I just followed my instincts."

"Well you have damn good instincts."

"I tried this life once." Martha shook her head. "It didn't work."

Dean watched her silently for a moment before standing up straight. "C'mon. Let me take you home," he insisted. Martha obeyed silently and climbed into the passenger's seat.

The drive back took nearly an hour and they rode in silence, save for the music on the radio. Martha stared out the window, taking in the sights, as they drove. It was funny. She had seen more of Chicagoland in one night with Dean than she had in five and a half weeks she had lived there.

Martha looked at Dean as they pulled off the Eisenhower. "How did you end up here?" she asked suddenly. "What made you decide you wanted to fight demons for a living?"

"It's the family business." Dean glanced at Martha. "My grandparents were hunters. My parents did it. So, my brother and I just fell into it too."

"Did you ever think about doing anything else?"

"Not really." Dean stared at the road ahead of him. "Sam did for a while though. He went and got himself into a fancy law school and everything."

"What happened?"

Dean exhaled sharply. "I dragged him back into it. Back into this life."

Martha looked out the window again. "Do you have somewhere to stay tonight?"

Dean arched his brow. "Are you asking me to sleep over?"

"Not like that." Martha looked at him again. "I just noticed the bags in the back seat."

Dean nodded. "I don't usually say in one place for too long."

"My flat is small, but the sofa folds out into a bed. And it's cheaper than a hotel."

Dean looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "You just met me. I could be a killer."

"You are a killer," she pointed out. "But I guess so am I." She shrugged slightly. "At any rate, I'm not scared of you."

Dean focused on the road. "Just for tonight."

Dean stretched his limbs as he got up from the sofa bed. According to the clock on the wall it was a quarter after noon. He and Martha got in just before dawn. Martha had offered to whip him up something to eat, but Dean just opted for a quick a shower before hitting the hay. Now he was wishing that he had taken her up on her offer.

The apartment was dead quiet, so Martha was either still asleep or out. Either way, Dean assumed it was safe enough for him to walk around in his boxers. He crept to the kitchen quietly and checked the refrigerator. There wasn't much inside and Dean wondered what she had proposed to cook for him with so little to work with.

Dean heard a door open behind him and turned to see Martha walking in the front door with two bags of food. "You were still sleep when I left so I just asked Linda to give you my usual," she informed him as she placed the food on the kitchen table.

Dean hurried over to the couch and grabbed his clothes.

"I got you a bacon cheeseburger with chips. Hope that's alright," Martha told as she unloaded the bags. "Oh and I got pie. You like pie, right?"

Dean froze as he zipped up his jeans. He turned to Martha slowly. "I think I love you."

Martha laughed softly. "Is that all it takes to win your affection?"

Dean pulled his t-shirt on as he rejoined her in the kitchen. "I'm a simple man with simple tastes."

"Oscar Wilde with a dash of Lynyrd Skynyrd," Martha joked as she sat down. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yea," Dean nodded as he began to eat. "Thanks."

Martha picked up a fry but didn't eat it. "So where are you going from here?" she asked as she twirled the fry between her fingers.

"Sioux Falls," Dean responded around a full mouth of food.

"That's in South Dakota, yea?"

Dean nodded again. "I have a friend there. Bobby. He's a hunter like me."

"Mt. Rushmore is in South Dakota," Martha thought aloud. "I always thought it'd be nice to see it. See all the sights really. America's so big after all." She smiled to herself. "I lived in New York for a bit when I worked with UNIT. Never saw much of anything," she frowned. "I've always regretted that."

Dean gulped down the huge bite of burger in his mouth. "Is this going somewhere?"

Martha dropped her fry back onto the pile in front of her. "I thought about what you said last night, about me saving your life. And I realized that there's more than one way to save lives. I knew that, but you reminded me." She paused. "And you also reminded me of this bloke I knew. He had just lost someone important to him when we met and he wasn't any good on his own either."

Dean exhaled.

"I've already made up my mind," Martha told him. "I quit my job this morning."

"Wait." Dean blinked. "You quit your job?"

"It wouldn't be the first time, but thankfully there's an entire ocean between my mum and me this time," Martha joked.

Dean shook his head. "This is life isn't glamorous, Martha. It's hard. Real hard. It's not something you just do on a whim. I've seen a lot of good people die."

"So have I," Martha countered.

Dean wiped his mouth on a paper napkin and balled it up. "Martha," he began firmly.

"Wait." Martha held her hand up. "Before you say anything else, there's something I need to tell you. Something about my life." She sighed softly. "Something I think will change everything."