We had been traveling for about half a day when Dean suddenly pulled my headphones off.

"We're here," he explained, pulling into a motel parking lot. "We'll use this case to see

what you can do."

"But if we think you can't handle it we'll help you out," Sam added.

I looked at them confused. "You're- you're letting me lead it?"

Dean grinned. "Yep. Hope you don't screw up."

"Dean!" his little brother yelped. "You'll do fine, Scar."

I nodded and helped them unload the stuff.

"Lemme guess," I said, noticing only two beds. "I'm taking the chair or the floor."

"Right."

I dropped my bag into the chair and fished out my Laptop.

"Is that an anti-possesion tattoo?" Dean asked, leaning over it.

My face turned red. "Yeah. It is."

"Where did you get that?"

"Amazon. It cost me a pretty penny to get it too. Here, I'll just-"

I went to peel it off, but he stopped me. "Leave it, princess. You might need it. Actually, we need to take you to a tattoo parlor and get you one."

A million different designs went through me head, but I only nodded. "So what do we know?"

"The victim's name was Mark Thompson," Sam replied, opening his laptop. "His body was found yesterday afternoon with his organs ripped out."

I powered mine up too. "Pleasant. Does he have any family?"

"A daughter. She's only fourteen. That sucks."

"Yup. That about sums it up."

Dean nodded already putting on a tie, maybe to pose as an FBI agent like he'd done in the books. "I'll talk to her."

"Be gentle," Sam told him.

When he left Sam smiled apologetically. "Sorry about him."

"It's cool. Heck if I was him I'd have killed me already."

He nodded. "That's what he wanted to do, but we owe Crowley a favor. He saved our entire universe a while back. He's actually a really good person."

"So if the books are real then who wrote them?"

He chuckled. "Funnily enough, it was God."

"As in Christian deity, God?"

"That's the one. I'd say he's weird except, again, we owe him more favors than there is water in the ocean."

"You seem to be in a lot of people's debt," I announced.

He nodded. "So what do you want me to do?"

"The last place he was seen was a bar. I suggest we go over there."

I disappeared into the bathroom and put on a navy blue dress.

When I came out Sam looked like and FBI agent.

"Woah," was all he said.

I scoffed, walked over and undid his tie. "Most people at bars don't like agents."

He was blushing as I threw the tie on the bed and undid a few buttons, making him look more like an accountant of work.

Not happy with this, I tossed the overcoat on the bed with the tie,

"Much better," I laughed. "You look approachable."

"How do you know all of this?" he asked, confused, looking in the bathroom mirror.

I winked at him. "A girl has to have some secrets. There's going to be a taxi here in a few minutes. And no, before you ask, I am paying for it with my own money so no worries."

"Did you have a job before all this?" he asked enviously.

I nodded. "I owned a bookstore. I texted my manager this morning and told him it was his now. We did pretty good so he won't be in a lot of trouble if he's smart about finances."

Now I sounded like I was bragging.

A horn honked, telling us our taxi had arrived and I begrudgingly put on A pair of navy blue high heels.

"Those things look painful," Sam told me.

"They are," I laughed.