Common disclaimers: I do not own supernatural. Enjoy.


The cell phone vibrated on the night stand. After a minute it stopped only to start up again after a couple of seconds. Sam groaned and his hand landed on the stand, dragging the cell phone off groggily.

"What's up?" he mumbled, half dangling off the motel bed. He mumbled a few other things and hung up. The cell phone was smacked back down on the stand and Sam pulled himself out of bed.

"Dean... Get up." He said throwing a pillow at him. Dean startled and fell out of bed in a heap of blankets.

"What's… what's going on?" A hand emerged from the pile trying to find its way out for the rest of his body. He sat up innocently rubbing his eyes. They were both exhausted from the week they had had and Dean felt like whatever sleep he could get, he needed it after purgatory.

"Weapons dealer insight from Garth. He says we might be able to get ahead of the game with this one."

"Pass. We have a ton of weapons in the trunk Sammy. We'll be fine." Dean laid back down in his heap.

"Garth says it's important. The dealer only works with certain people at certain times. He got us an appointment so we need to head out. Something about witch craft weapons?" Sam pulled a shirt out of a duffel bag and slid it over his head onto his torso.

"Dammit…" Dean said muffled and finally sat up.


"I still don't get why we need to do this Sam." Dean complained as they approached an abandoned building.

"Garth knows what he's doing. I think. We wouldn't have told Bobby no." Sam replied as they neared a door that appeared to be an entrance. He looked wearily at Dean and then jammed his finger into a button, causing a buzzer to sound. Instantaneously a bucket of water rained down on their heads, a cross clanking to their feet.

"Holy water. Fantastic way to start the day." Dean stated sarcastically. A locking mechanism released and the door swung open. Sam pulled the wet hair from his eyes and smoothed it back before stepping in. The inside of the building also looked run down and dank. The door swung shut behind them causing him to jump. Dean pulled his jacket back exposing the 1911 Colt on his hip. His hand rested lightly on it. Rounding the corner they saw an old truck on a dirt floor. Two legs with brown leather boots sticking out from underneath it.

"I didn't sign up for the Wizard of Oz." Dean said smirking at Sam. He rolled his eyes and started forward, taking the two cement steps down into the dirt.

"Names please?" a voice asked from underneath.

Sam's brow furrowed, "Sam and uh… Dean Winchester?" He said almost with uncertainty. The voice wasn't at all what he expected and his facial expression mirrored Deans. Confusion.

The person slid out from underneath with nimble ease. A girl in her mid-twenties sat before them. Her eyes were bright green from behind her grease and dirt covered face. Her brown hair was tied back into a messy ponytail with a bandana rolled up and tied at the nape of her neck to keep her bangs out of her face. She stood with a nonchalant look on her face, her stature an easy 5'8" and slender frame. "What can I do you boys for?" She asked raising an eyebrow.

Dean bit his knuckle trying to keep his comments to himself. She didn't seem to notice and grabbed a towel from the bed of the truck, wiping her hands down with it. Keeping her distance she stopped about 6 feet away, just out of arms reach. When Sam took a step forward thrusting his hand out in an attempt to be polite and shake her hand, she took a step back. She reached back for a concealed weapon in her pants and Sam noticed the runes running up and down her left arm.

He cleared his throat and lowered his hand, "Garth sent us? Said you had some weapons we might be interested in."

She let her arm fall to her side, "Names' Asher Abrams." She glanced over at Dean and added, "At your service." Turning on her heal she beckoned them to follow. Sam looked over at Dean catching a shit eating grin, he gave him a dirty look and followed.

"So… This place yours?" Dean mustered finally, following Asher down a dark hallway.

"Have you seen anyone else?" She replied.

"Good point. Seems like a girl like yourself is in the wrong business."

Sam felt like dying inside, Dean always seemed to dig the hole a little deeper than it needed to be.

"Seems like a boy like you would know how to behave around a lady." Asher said smoothly. "I thought John would've taught you to be more respectful."

"How do you know our father?" Sam asked speeding up his pace with his hands jammed in his pockets.

"My grandfather knew your father. I remember seeing him in here a lot."

"Your grandfather is he…"

"Gone? Yes. Demons. You know the run down from there." She said curtly.

Dean suddenly remembered the place. His father would make the boys wait in the car while he would venture in. As a boy it was his responsibility to keep Sam entertained while his father was dealing business.

Asher stopped at a door that had a touchpad. She placed her palm on it and the door slid open revealing a detailed room lined with cedar wood and polished counters. "This will mostly be a training seminar because you can make most of the things I have. But the runes… well… That's my specialty." The boys followed her silently into the room and she slid with ease behind the counter. "First things first. Demon bullets. Simple Pentagram." She leaned over the counter and set the bullet down. "You can do this one yourself."

She then pulled a gun from the back of her pants and laid it on the table. It was a Colt Anaconda laced with intricate symbols engraved into it.

"How in the hell did you conceal that?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"Very carefully." Asher replied with a sideways grin. The first they'd seen since their arrival. "Now these runes give you an advantage. A definite setback for demons you need to stagger. While bullets and guns won't kill them, this gun gives you an advantage."

"How much for your fancy doodles?" Dean asked.

"Not for sale." She said sliding it back and putting it back into a holster. "But. This is." Sliding a wooden door over on the case revealed many weapons like a gun shop would display. "As a disclaimer I'd like to say, I don't deal in cash."

"I can help you with that sweetheart." Dean said with a perverted grin.

Asher leaned over the counter with an innocent smile on her face. "You're kind of like a city transit bus, everyone gets a ride, but they all get off disappointed."

Sam pursed his lips trying to suppress a smile. "Where were we?"

"Payment?" She said sweetly taking in Dean's expression happily. "I take favors, as payment."