Chapter 2: The Truth Comes Out

The two arrived back at the motel, and walked into their room. Miranda grabbed her duffel bag, and started throwing clothes into it.

"What was that back there?" Sam asked, his brows furrowed. Miranda brushed past him and threw a wad of pants and shirts into the bag. Sam grabbed her arm, but kept his grasp light so as not to hurt her. "Miranda," he said, stopping her. She stopped, and looked up at him, then sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Sam, I was a part of the CIA for awhile before I met you and Dean. My badge isn't fake, not entirely anyway; the only thing that's different is the name," she explained. Sam looked at her, confused.

"So, you changed your name when you got out?" he asked.

"No, my name has always been Miranda Williams, Michelle Dagnon is just a name I came up with...like you guys did, except I didn't get mine from different bands," she said. Sam stood up.

"Why did you leave the CIA?" he asked, turning around looking down at her. She smiled.

"I met Dean when he was posing as the FBI...that was when he saved my life, remember? When we first met, Sammy? I was working with the CIA, and I had no idea that any of the things we hunt now existed. Those two people that were arriving at the morgue when we were leaving...I knew those two; they were agents, my closest friends at the agency. You're never supposed to tell people that you work for the CIA...if they had seen me, we would've both been in trouble, and that's why I had to hide my face when we walked by them," she explained. Sam sat next to her on the bed. "Sam, we have to leave L.A., if they learn I'm here, it could spell trouble for all of us," she told him.

"We can't leave now, this demon is killing people, and we have to stop it...I thought you said these people were your friends," he said.

"They are, but Sam, you don't underst-" Miranda stopped as her phone rang in her ears. She looked at the screen, and recognized the number of an old friend at the agency.

"Hello? Jack, hey, what's going on?...you recognized me at the morgue this morning?...okay, where can I meet you?...okay, I'll be there soon," she said into the phone before closing it. Miranda breathed deeply, and looked at Sam, who looked back at her, concerned.

"I'll go alone, it'd be better for us both if I did," Miranda said to him. "Its a good thing we're not America's Most Wanted anymore, Sammy," she said, nervously.

An hour later, Miranda arrived at a coffee shop, and hugged herself in her jacket as the cool, crisp wind blew around her. Miranda saw Jack at a table for two just outside the door, clad in a navy blue business suit, and smiled as she approached him. He stood up, smiling, and hugged her when she came up close.

"Hi," she said, old times flashing through her mind.

"Hi," he responded, and they sat down.

"How are you, Jack?" she asked him, softly. He nodded, and folded his hands over his stomach.

"I'm good, and yourself?" he responded. She nodded.

"Fine...its been forever since we last talked; I think I talk to Sydney more than I talk to you," she told him. The waitress came over then, and took Miranda's order. When she walked away, Miranda turned back to Jack.

"Well, you know my daughter, she's quite social," he replied. Miranda smiled, and nodded.

"Why did you contact me, Jack?"

"You know why...what I want to know is why you were at the morgue earlier this morning," he replied. Miranda sighed, and leaned back in her chair, her hands folding across her lap.

"I was there investigating the death of what apparently turned out to be a CIA operative; I hadn't known before, and didn't find out til I got there," she told him.

"That's why we were there as well...what do you know?" he asked her. Miranda shrugged.

"Nothing yet, I've only seen the body once, and it wasn't a great view...if I got another look at it, maybe I'd have a better idea of what—who did it," she said, catching herself.

"Who was that man who was with you?" Jack asked her after a minute.

"That was...a friend of mine; he helps people, saves lives, that kind of thing," she replied.

"Why don't we go now? You could get another look at the body, and maybe help us with the investigation," Jack suggested. Miranda sighed, then nodded.

"Let me just give my friend a call, and tell him I'll be late," she said, standing from the table, removing her cell from her pocket. She walked away from the table, and dialed Sam's number. He answered on the first ring.

"Hello?" he said.

"Sam, hey its me...look, I'm with Jack right now, and I'm gonna go get another look at the body, then head back with him to the agency to see what they've come up with; maybe we can use some of the information they've gathered since they got a head start. I'll pick up dinner, and meet you back at the hotel," she told him.

"Okay, yea...be careful," he responded. Miranda smiled; Sam was one of the sweetest men she knew, and she knew that if she hadn't fallen for Dean, she would've fallen for Sam. Something inside of her told her that she still could. She hung up the phone, and turned back to Jack, who was still waiting for her at the table. She walked back over, and smiled at him.

"Looks like we're good to go," she told him, smiling. He stood, and took his wallet out of his suit jacket. "I guess I'll follow you there," Miranda told him, taking her keys out of her bag. Jack nodded, and climbed into his Chrysler, while Miranda climbed into Sam's Chevy Charger. She followed him to the morgue, memories of the old days running through her mind.