"Dean, what are we even still doing here?" Sam hissed at his brother across the table in the Rose Restaurant, where they were waiting for Tuesday two minutes to nine. "There's another hunter in town, and she seems to know what she's doing. We should be focusing on getting you out of your contract." He was referring, of course, to Dean's deal with the crossroad demon to bring Sam back at the cost of one year to live.
Dean nearly rolled his eyes into his head before pressing his lips together. "Sammy, I've got a year to live, and I'd like to spend it here, okay?" When Sam eyed him skeptically, he amended his statement. "I just need a job that's a bit unusual, alright? And something isn't right with Tuesday." Although neither brother could put a finger on it, instinct told each of them there was more to the ambiguous hunter than she let on.
"Morning, boys." The aforementioned hunter slid into the vacant seat at the square table, knocking her long legs with both Sam and Dean's below. Both brothers shifted, clearly uncomfortable with their legs entwined with hers.
The hunter eyed them both as they shifted out of her leg space, but said nothing on the subject. Instead, she called the waiter over and placed an order of fruit salad and yogurt, handing her menu to the waiter as Sam placed an order of pancakes and Dean placed an order of eggs, sausage, bacon, pancakes, and hash browns.
Once the waiter had left, Dean faced his companions, rolling his eyes at the equivalent expressions on their faces. "What?" He said defensively. Neither of his companions bothered to ridicule him for his choice of a large meal.
Sam ran his eyes briefly over Tuesday's outfit as she absentmindedly tapped her fingers on the table, as if she was playing piano. Her slacks, cream blouse, blazer, and pumps were not all that different than the suits he and his brother were wearing.
"What's with the nice outfit?" Dean asked the questions although Sam had already figured out the answer.
Tuesday brushed a few stray hairs from her slick ponytail out of her face before answering. "I've got a lead. A friend of Brie's. Thought we could check it out after breakfast, if you'd like."
Dean smiled a rueful smile. "Well, we aren't dressed like this for nothing." He motioned to his charcoal suit.
None of the trio spoke again until after the waiter had brought the food. Dean had only made it halfway through his meal before Tuesday set down her empty bowls and spoke.
"So, what have you guys got so far? Any research on particularly vengeful spirits in this town's history?"
Dean was too busy chewing an entire sausage, so Sam answered, swallowing. "Nothing. This town is as boring as watching a clear sky. We went to the library yesterday, and everyone seems to have died a peaceful death."
Dean contributed, having finally swallowed the sausage. "Not true. There have been murders, but nothing typical of an angry spirit."
Tuesday leaned back in her chair, pensive. "I did a bit of research myself, and most of the violent murders were people who were cremated." She cast her eyes down to her lap. "Not enough left to bury in a coffin."
No one had anything to say to that, so for a few minutes the only sound between them was the clink of Dean's utensils as he shoved an assortment of breakfast foods into his mouth. Finally, Tuesday spoke, careful not to meet the eyes of either Winchester.
"Look guys. I know you've been at this all your life, but I know what I'm doing, and if you need to be elsewhere, I can take this one. However," she looked up then, voice growing harder. "While you're welcome to stay, if you do, we're going to do things my way. As I understand, where ever you two have gone, crime scenes have followed."
Sam deliberately looked at his brother, who always seemed to be making more of a mess than what they cleaned up. Dean looked at him innocently, still shoving the last few morsels from his breakfast into his mouth.
Sam blinked and met Tuesday's intense gaze evenly. "Of course. You were here first. We don't want to cause any trouble."
Tuesday narrowed her eyes briefly before standing. "Right then. The bill will go to my room, no worries. I'll just go get my car and meet you guys out front?"
Dean was finishing the last of his hash browns, so Sam was forced to respond again. "Right, thanks." But his words were drowned out by the hustle of the restaurant as Tuesday walked towards the exit, making her way to the underground garage.
Sam eyed his brother, who had finished and was leaning back and rubbing his stomach in content. "Dude, did you have to eat all that?"
"Sammy, we haven't had a decent breakfast in ages. It wouldn't hurt you to pack on a few pounds as well." Dean hoisted himself out of the chair, almost waddling his way outside.
The brothers waited in the Impala, Dean turning the noise of Metallica up as they waited for Tuesday to come around the front of the hotel. Dean whistled appreciatively at a DB9 Midnight Blue Aston Martin, which then honked at them when they passed. Both brothers eyed each other in confusion until the car backed up and the navy-tinted passenger window rolled down to reveal Tuesday in the driver's seat.
"Coming?" The hunter said, but she didn't wait for an answer, speeding off down the street, Dean fumbling with the keys as he tried to stick them in the ignition.
"It's got to be stolen, right?" He said, briefly glancing both ways at the intersection before following the sleek car. "No way a hunter's got a nice car like that."
Sam shrugged. "She is staying at the Rose Parlor." But all the same he pulled out his laptop with its never-ending Wi-Fi, scrolling through the license records in minutes.
Dean glanced at his brother as Sam grimly shut the lid of his computer and shoved it back under the passenger seat. "It belongs to one Tuesday, from New York City." He said, lips pressed into a fake, tight smile.
His brother groaned. "Who gets their name legally changed to a day of the week?"
Sam blinked slowly, raising his eyebrows simultaneously. "Someone who really doesn't want people to know who she is, I guess."
Dean reached into his pocket at the next intersection with a napkin, pulling out a glass. "Lucky I swiped her glass, then. We'll send this to Bobby, have him do a run for fingerprints, see what shows up."
Sam carefully accepted the napkin-wrapped glass from his brother, sliding it into a spare plastic bag. "Might show up as Tuesday again."
Dean nodded, eyebrows popping up once before settling. "Might. Or we might discover the woman behind the mystery."
As soon as the Aston Martin slowed to halt and pulled up next to the curb in front of a quaint, grey house, Dean rammed the Impala into park, ripping the key from the ignition. He and Sam leapt out of the Impala so fast that by the time Tuesday had leisurely slid out of the driver's seat, he and his brother had her enclosed in a triangle consisting of the brothers and her car.
"Whoa, boys, what's going on?" Tuesday held her hands up in a peaceful gesture, keys still dangling from her right hand.
"Where did you get the money for a ride like that? Pull a Great Train Robbery?" Dean leaned into her face, intimidating but not touching her.
Tuesday's face was a mass of perfect features and confusion. Her eyes darted from Sam to Dean and back again, but realizing they really wanted an answer, she crossed her arms and obliged. "From the money I'm paid, genius. I don't go around robbing banks and trains, thank you very much."
"Paid for what?" Sam's brows furrowed as he asked.
Tuesday eyed the brothers like they were, as Bobby would affectionately say, 'idjits'. "For doing jobs, working cases?" The end of her sentence rose into a question, as she was starting to wonder why this seemed like such a strange thing to the Winchesters. Sure, the Impala wasn't exactly an Aston Martin, but it was a nice car, and she figured they were paid more than enough.
Dean and Sam stepped back from the female hunter, giving her space as she continued to eye them, almost as confused as they were.
"Hang on." Dean raised an eyebrow so high that it almost reached his hairline. "You get paid for being a hunter?"
Tuesday nodded, thinking. From what he was saying, she guessed he didn't. Her boss had told her a bit about the Winchesters, what she didn't know anyways, but she hadn't told her this.
"By whom?" Sam echoed her stance, crossing his arms as well.
"My boss?" Tuesday glanced at them incredulously. Who did they expect to pay her, Hugh Hefner?
"And who's that?" Tuesday pursed her lips at Dean's question. The Winchesters were getting far too intrusive for her liking. Besides, she had no reason to trust them outright.
So she just relaxed her face, taking a deep breath and deciding to handle the situation as maturely and peacefully as possible. "Woman high in the government. Big shot, you know. I've only met her a few times, but by contract the other hunters and I are not allowed to reveal her information or name."
Dean and Sam took her response in several different ways, speaking on top of each other before Dean shut up and let his brother speak. "Government? As in, the government is aware of the supernatural?"
Tuesday leaned back against her car, figuring she was in for a long Q&A session. "Not all of the government. But there are some, like my boss, who do."
"Right, right." Dean nodded. "But you said there were others working like you do?"
Tuesday nodded while biting her lip, wondering how much of the situation she should reveal. "Yeah, about a dozen working for my boss, and there are other bosses with their own set ups. We get calls to check out places, and we do the jobs and get paid."
Dean whistled lowly, and he and his brother took in the information. Then Sam asked the question that they were both thinking. "So, how come we haven't heard about this before?"
"Bosses choose the hunters they like." Tuesday shrugged. "But you two, you're just free spirits. Wouldn't be inclined to do what you're told. So the bosses leave you alone, and keep you out of it. Let you do your own thing." The boys nodded, but Tuesday decided not to reveal exactly what her boss thought of the Winchesters.
Sensing that the brothers seemed to be pacified, at least for the moment, Tuesday stood up straight with a sigh, pulling a badge from her pocket as she made her way up the drive to the quaint house they were parked near.
"So what's our cover? FBI?" Sam said as he and Dean walked behind Tuesday, both shifting through their various badges.
Tuesday stopped and spun around, causing a careless Dean to run into her. She was not amused, but her confusion overruled her annoyance at the moment.
"What do you mean, 'cover'?" But she had a sickening feeling that she knew.
Dean and Sam glanced at each other, before Sam answered. "You know, our story? Why we're rooting around people's houses?"
Tuesday ran her vacant hand across her face, rubbing her eye tiredly before flipping open her badge in the boys' face. "I don't need a cover. I'm a legitimate detective."
Dean and Sam glanced sideways at each other.
Tuesday sighed, before elaborating. "I've heard you two masquerade as FBI and mechanics and friends of the victim, but I don't need to do any of that." She handed her badge to Dean, who inspected it. "I'm a legitimate detective. I went to school, the whole nine yards."
Dean passed the badge to Sam, who also inspected it, and while neither really could tell, they had seen an awful lot of fake badges, and this one looked real.
"I started hunting things on my sixteenth birthday when a ghost showed up at my friend's house and I knew what to do. I kept hunting things and went to college two years early, then worked with the NYPD for three years before being promoted to detective." Tuesday continued. "I was then hired as a consulting detective by my boss, and she gets me government clearance in the cases I work." She paused, taking a breath, before her face hardened. "But don't get me wrong, or count me as a soft college girl. I rarely partied, rarely did much else besides school work and cases with supernatural creatures. Even in NY I took on cases with supernatural traces."
The Winchester brothers didn't meet her intense gaze, humbled by her resolve. Sure, she hadn't been hunting as long as them, but she was a legitimate detective. She did know what she was doing, even if they didn't want to trust her.
"And I know you don't want to trust me, but can you at least try to trust me a bit until you have a reason not to, not the other way around?" Tuesday tried to meet the boys' eyes, but neither would make eye contact.
The trio stood there awkwardly for a minute, a slight gust of wind blowing Sam and Tuesday's hair across their faces. Dean pretended to fumble through his badges and Sam focused on his hair in his face, and Tuesday, sensing their discomfort, sighed and crossed her arms.
"Right. Well, we can't make you detectives now, so I guess you'll have to masquerade as FBI." She flipped her ponytail out of her face and walked backwards, turning slowly until she made it up the front steps, knocking on the door.
A dark-haired and chocolate-skinned girl around Brie Samson's age answered the door. A tall boy, almost Dean's height, was standing behind her, his pale skin a contrast with his dark hair.
"Can I help you?" The young woman asked, leaning warily against the doorframe.
Tuesday flipped open her badge. "Detective Tuesday. These are FBI Agents James and Taylor." She motioned to Sam and Dean in turn. "Are you Zara Wilkes?"
The girl nodded, absentmindedly pulling on her low ponytail draped over her shoulder. "Yes." Her reply was hesitant.
"We're here about Brie Samson, the Mayor's daughter. We understand you were a friend of hers?" Tuesday watched as both Zara's face and the face of the boy behind her contorted into a mix of pain and understanding.
Zara took a deep breath, sticking her hands in her pockets before motioning to the tall boy behind here. "This is Aaron Jackson, my boyfriend. We were both friends of Brie's. Come on in."
She and Aaron stepped out of the way, allowing the Winchesters and Tuesday to pass by her and into the house. Sam threw Dean a glance as they walked into the living room, glancing around. For all their adolescent innocence, something was strange about the two teenagers. Perhaps it was the fact they lived alone in a nice house at this age, or perhaps it was something more sinister.
Dean glanced around Zara's bedroom. It looked like the bedroom of an average teenage girl, posters, pictures, textbooks. Except it was too clean. Like she had expected someone to be looking around her room And something about that bothered him.
"She seemed awfully okay with us taking a look around. A bit suspicious, isn't it?" Sam said, lifting the full mattress with ease and looking between the mattress and box springs.
Tuesday paced around the bedroom, taking everything in, until she stopped at a bookshelf. Sam and Dean watched as she ran a hand across the bookshelf, stopping on a black book that she pulled out and held up to the boys.
"What?" Dean and Sam gazed at the plain book in confusion. The title was that of a typical scientific textbook, but they gasped when Tuesday spread the pages.
"It's been rebound into a science textbook." She ran a hand across the worn pages. "It's a book of witchcraft." The brothers stepped closer, Sam taking the book gingerly and flipping through the pages and diagrams while Dean looked over his shoulder.
"So we're dealing with a ghost and a witch, then?" Dean continued to watch Sam and the book as Tuesday wandered over to Zara's desk.
"Not a witch." She turned around and faced them. "A coven."
Sam and Dean looked up from the book, confusion crossing their faces. "What?"
Tuesday raised her eyebrows. "Didn't you see Aaron's necklace? It was a classical witch ruin charm."
The brothers glanced at each other. How had they missed that?
"Plus, I found hex bags in Brie's house, and some materials for more. She was in on it." Tuesday flipped through a few pages on Zara's desk.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa. You found hex bags and we didn't know? When did you find them? We were there with you. Also, why didn't you tell us?" Dean asked, rage causing him to advance on her with an expression that distorted his pretty features.
"Do I have to tell you everything?" Tuesday rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "You aren't my boss, and you can't expect me to trust you completely."
Dean sniffed unappreciatively, but she had a point.
"Also, I went into Brie's house and surveyed the crime scene the morning before I ran into you two, and found the bags." Tuesday was so completely nonchalant that it annoyed Dean.
"Wait." Sam broke in. "Then why were you there at night?" The brothers had broken in to avoid clashing with the local police, and they had assumed she had as well.
"Looking for the ghost, obviously. Like you guys." She raised an eyebrow in a very judgmental manner, and Sam didn't bother to explain they had broken in. They didn't need any more condescending looks.
Dean stepped back and fell in line with his brother as they took the new information in. Not only were they looking at a very confusing case with a ghost and witches, they also couldn't trust this hunter to reveal everything that she knew.
Tuesday clenched her jaw like she knew what they were thinking, and strode up to the boys, her heels placing her at a height between Sam and Dean that was intimidating. "Look, I know you don't want to trust me because I don't tell you everything, but you really should try. You two haven't been completely honest with me, either, and I don't expect you too. This business comes with a certain level of secrecy." She clamped her mouth shut for a second, keeping down harsher words.
"But let me tell you something. I trust you boys, I really do. Which is why I haven't killed Sam yet." She continued on before Dean or Sam could speak, confusion dropping their jaws in protest. "There's a price on your heads, both of you, but especially Sam. My boss and others want you two dead, or at the very least Sam. It's kill on sight. But I haven't, and you know why?" Her voice began to tremble as emotions besides anger began to surface.
"Because you are my hero, Dean Winchester. I got into this business because you saved my life as a child, a girl you didn't know. And I figure if you can save a stranger, you deserve a chance. So I haven't killed your brother, because I owe you. I owe it to you to get to know you, to help you, and to protect you." She took a deep breath, rocking back and forth a bit, before she shook her head and cast her intense gaze back on Dean.
"So you can work with me on this, or you can work against me. But let me warn you, working against me will not be pretty." And with that, she spun around and walked out of the door purposefully, leaving two very confused brothers behind.