Disclaimer: Once again Supernatural does not belong to me.

Anyway, here is chapter 3 enjoy.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bridget's POV

By the time Dean came back into the apartment carrying a green military style duffel bag I had finished making supper and was setting the table.

He sniffed the air and dropped the duffel bag on the floor somewhere out of the way, "Smells good."

I smiled, "Spaghetti okay?"

"Spaghetti's great," he said as removed his worn brown leather jacket and hung it on the back of one of the chairs. He wearily sank into the chair and stretched his arms. "I haven't had a real meal in forever."

I placed the bowl of spaghetti on the table, "Help yourself, but save me some will ya? Did you want a beer or anything?"

His plate was already full of spaghetti and he was covering it with Parmesan cheese. "Beer is fine. Thanks."

I grabbed a beer from the fridge and poured myself a glass of water before sitting in the seat across from him. I filled my plate and watched him practically inhale his spaghetti.

He must have felt my eyes on him because he looked up. "What?" he asked with his mouth full. "I'm hungry."

I raised an eyebrow, "I didn't say anything."

He swallowed and took a swig of beer, "Got any more?"

I nodded, "On the stove, help yourself."

He grinned and stood to refill his plate. "This is great. First decent meal in months."

"I take it demon killing isn't a high paying job?" I asked as he sat back down.

"Are you kidding? Dad and I run credit card scams and hustle pool to get by. Not a lot of people believe in this sort of stuff so not many even know what we do."

"You and your dad huh? What is this, a family affair?"

He smiled in between bites and got a faraway look in his eyes. "Yeah, used to be me, Dad, and my younger brother Sam. But Sam left two years ago to go to Standford, he's pre-law."

I could hear the pride in his voice and couldn't help but smile, "I bet your Dad is proud of him."

He shook his head sadly, "Maybe somewhere deep down, but I've never seen it. Not once. The night Sam left he and Dad got into a huge fight and Dad told him that if he left he should stay gone. I haven't spoken to Sam in three years, but every time we're in California Dad drives by Stanford to check up on him."

I stared at him in surprise, "Your dad said that?"

He nodded, "Sam wanted 'normal' and Dad just wants to find the thing that killed our mom."

"What thing?" I asked curiously.

He stared at me but I could tell he wasn't really seeing me. He was reliving memories. "I was four and Sammy was six months old. I woke up to Mom screaming from Sammy's nursery and ran into the hallway. When I got there the nursery was on fire. Dad gave me Sam and told me to get out of the house. Just before I ran I saw her." His eyes were haunted and I reached across the small table to squeeze his hand. He took a deep breath and continued. "She was on the ceiling burning. Then Dad yelled at me to go and I ran like hell out of that house. Something killed her that night. It wasn't an electrical fire like the police said. Dad became obsessed with finding the damn thing and started taking other jobs on the side. Sammy and I were raised knowing about ghosts and werewolves. Dad turned us into the hunters we, well I, am now."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean's POV

I took another shaky breath and tore myself from the memory of that night. Bridget was looking at me sympathetically and I scowled pulling my hand out of her grasp. "Don't you dare say you're sorry. I don't want to hear it."

She looked surprised for a second before her eyes suddenly hardened. "At least you had a parent."

"What?" I asked in surprise.

She abruptly stood and brought her dishes to the sink. "Nothing. It's nothing."

"Nothing my ass," I said also standing. "What did you mean?"

She whirled to face me and I could see that her eyes were wet with unshed tears. "I've got no family except an older sister that I haven't seen since I was ten. My parents died in a fire along with my sister. I was just a baby but my other sister got me out of the house. She lost her twin that night and I always knew there was a part of her missing. We went to an orphanage because we had no living relatives. We were never adopted and when Tania turned sixteen she just up and left. I haven't heard from her since."

"Bri..." I began taking a step toward her.

She turned away from me and headed for the living room, "We should find a way to get this demon."

I followed and found her sitting at the computer with an expression of intense concentration. I grabbed the sheet with the exorcism ritual that she had printed earlier and quickly scanned it.

"Son of a bitch," I swore as one of the instructions caught my eye.

"What is it?" Bridget asked without taking her eyes of the screen.

"This is only going to work if the Demon possesses someone."

There was a few moments silence but Bridget finally turned to face me. "I'll do it."

"Yeah good idea," I began without thinking. Her words began to sink in and I stared at her wide eyed. "What!? No! There is no way in hell that that demon is getting inside you!"

"Dean it's the only way and you know it," she argued. "I can lure it to this computer. That ritual had a link to this Devil's Trap. It's from a book called the Key of Solomon and it says that if you get a demon inside it it's trapped, can't get out of it." She showed me the intricate symbol on the screen and continued. "We can put it on the floor or ceiling, whatever, and I'll stay inside it while I lure it to me. Once it's in me you can do the ritual and it's gone."

"No," I said forcefully. "There's got to be another way."

"It attacks every six days," she said, "So that's how long you've got to find another way. Otherwise we'll have to do this. I'm not letting anyone else get hurt by this thing."

"What about you?" I asked. "You're just going to let this thing inside you? Let it control you? You have no idea what this will do to you Bridget."

"I know," she said quietly. "But like you said the demon has to be in someone for the ritual to work. And it can't be you because my Latin is a little rusty."

"We'll find another way," I said firmly ending the conversation. "Like you said we've got six days to figure it out."

For the next five days I went through the entire university library and called every one of Dad's contacts looking for another way to get rid of this demon. Bridget also scoured the Internet between her classes but we couldn't find anything. I had checked out of the hotel and slept on her couch for those five nights. She wasn't the type of girl I usually went for. First off she wasn't blond, and second she was smart. She also wasn't nearly as pretty as the girls I went for, but she definitely wasn't ugly. But I felt something for her that I'd never felt for any girl before and it got stronger the more time I spent with her which made me nervous. Normally I just picked up a girl at a bar and left before she woke up in the morning, but with Bridget I knew I would have to give her more. And I wanted to give it to her.

I woke up on Saturday the fifth day to find the apartment empty. I got up and got dressed making sure I placed my hunting knife in its sheath on my wrist. I then went to the kitchen to pour myself a cup of coffee and just happened to glance out the window. Bridget was outside working on her vette. She was half hidden beneath the hood of the car and I could hear the music coming from the Impala's stereo. I poured my coffee with a smile before going outside to join her.

I quietly approached until I was standing a few inches behind her. "How's it coming?" I asked.

The next thing I knew I was staggering backwards holding my jaw and was covered in my own coffee. "Jesus Christ!" I exclaimed. "You hit me with a wrench."

"Oh god Dean I'm sorry," she said as she pulled my hand away from my face. "That's going to bruise. Let me get you some ice."

She pulled me back into the apartment and I got changed while she got some ice out of the freezer. I could already feel my jaw starting to swell by the time I lowered myself onto the couch. She sat next to me and placed the bag of ice on my jaw.

I recoiled, "Damn it that's cold."

"Don't be such a baby," she scolded and put the ice back on my face. "How do you expect to get this demon when your jaw is so swelled you can't talk? I don't know about you, but I'd rather not have this demon inside me forever."

I gave her a scowl which immediately turned into a wince. "I told you, you aren't doing this."

"Dean we've got no choice. We've been looking for another way for days and haven't found anything." She sighed, "I don't think there's anything to find. This thing is going to happen tomorrow. Hold that there. I'm going to get you some aspirin or something."

I moved to hold the ice to my face and was surprised at the tingle I felt when our hands brushed together. She quickly got up and went to the bathroom to get the painkillers.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Bridget's POV

When I returned to the living room Dean was lying on the couch holding the ice to his face with one hand and had his other arm resting over his eyes. I couldn't help but smile at the sight of him. He looked cute just lying there. Not that I would ever tell him that, he would probably just scowl at me. I wasn't his type. There was no way he would ever feel anything for me.

"What are you just standing there for?" he asked without looking at me. "My jaw is killing me."

"Then stop talking," I retorted as I approached him. "Here."

He sat up and gratefully took the two pills I held out to him. "Thanks. Can I get some water to go with these?"

"Yeah sure." I went into the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. He took it from me and swallowed the two pills washing them down with the water.

"So what do we do now?" I asked him.

He glowered at me, "Make sure you can get the demon into your computer."

"I can," I assured him. "Don't worry about that."

"Right," he said. "I'll get the Devil's Trap onto the ceiling. We've got to have everything right for tomorrow."

Dean got up off the couch as I sat at my computer. "This is going to take a while so don't bug me."

It only took Dean about half an hour to finish the trap and he came to stand behind me. I sat hunched over at my computer watching the ones and zeros fly across the screen. When I finally finished a couple hours later I leaned back in the chair and removed my glasses in order to rub my eyes.

"Done?" Dean asked. He had moved to the couch and was sharpening a wicked looking knife.

"Yeah," I said as I stretched causing my back to crack audibly.

"That's disgusting," he said with a grimace.

"Whatever," I said over my shoulder as I went to the kitchen to grab us each a beer. When I came back I handed him one and sat beside him. "How's your jaw?"

He shrugged and put the knife down beside the other ten or so he had lying on the coffee table, "I've had worse." He took a drink then held the cold bottle to his face. His cheek wasn't badly swollen, but it had become an ugly purple color all the way up to his eye.

"I'm really sorry about that Dean."

"Don't worry about it," he said as he picked up yet another knife and started sharpening it.

I picked up the one he had just finished with and studied it. It had large blade with a nasty hook on the end which made it seem like it would do a whole lot more damage coming out then going in. The metal of the blade was a shining silver color while the others were a dull gray. "So why do you have so many of these anyway?"

He glanced at the one I was holding, "That one is pure silver which is the only way to kill a shapeshifter."

"Like a werewolf?" I asked.

He nodded, "Personally I prefer to use silver bullets instead of a knife." He held up the one in his hand. "This one's iron, good against spirits."

"What about demons?"

"Dunno. Demons aren't like anything else. The only things that can really hurt one of them are salt and holy water and only if it's possessing someone."

The rest of the day was uneventful and I eventually started doing homework to pass the time. Once Dean had finished sharpening his knives he started cleaning guns. I was surprised at how many he had. There were two handguns, two sawed-off shotguns, a double-barrel and a single-barrel, and a sniper rifle.

"We aren't going to need any of those are we?" I asked nervously.

He looked up at me without stopping and shook his head, "No, all I have to do is read the ritual. I'm just doing this to pass the time. Having fun with homework?"

I grimaced, "Physics. Ugh, I swear its torture."

He chuckled, "I was never good in school. Sammy always got the A's while I just scraped by." His smile faded, "He's probably still getting A's across the board."

"You miss him don't you?"

Dean sighed, "He's my little brother. Of course I miss him. We move around a lot so I never really got the chance to get to know anyone else. He and Dad are all I have."

I nodded, "For me it was pretty much the opposite. I've got plenty of friends but no family. Part of me keeps hoping I'll see Tee again but I'm not holding my breath or anything."

"Tee?" he asked.

"My sister Tania. Tee was her nickname."

He frowned and looked thoughtful, "I met a hunter once that said her name was Tee she and Dad partnered up to get rid of this really nasty poltergeist when I was 17. Now that I think about it you do sort of look like her. You've got the same color eyes."

"My sister is a hunter?" I was stunned.

"Seems like it," I said. "If we ever cross paths again I'll let her know you're alright."

I smiled, "Thanks Dean I appreciate it." I glanced at the clock and realized that it was after five, "You hungry?"

"I thought you'd never ask," he replied with a grin.

I shook my head with a smile and went to the kitchen to start supper. Once it was ready I practically forced Dean to watch Return of the Jedi with me as we ate.

"You'd think they could have made these movies in order," Dean said when the movie finished.

"What?" I asked in surprise. "Are you crazy? That would completely ruin the climax of the Empire Strikes Back. I mean the whole 'Luke I am your father' thing totally made the movie and if the prequels had been made first it wouldn't have been a surprise. And besides can you see any other actors in those roles? Personally I think no one but Ewen McGregor could play a young Obi-Wan."

He smirked at me, "Alright you win. You really like these movies don't you?"

"I love them. You up for another one?"

"Can I pick this time?" I shrugged and he got up to check out my large movie collection. He found one and put it on without letting me see what it was. He sat back down just as it started and I shivered at the music.

"No way!" I said. "I am not watching The Changeling."

"Oh come on," he said. "It's a classic."

"It creeps the hell out of me," I replied. "I'm not watching it before we have to deal with a demon."

"But this is about ghosts not demons," he argued.

"Still creeps me out," I said. "At the orphanage we had this big old cast iron tub. A bunch of us watched this movie and we were all scared of that tub for years afterward and had to use the other, newer bathroom from then on."

"Sammy wouldn't even watch it with me," Dean said with a smile. "Took off as soon as he heard the music. Of course he came back in time to see the wheelchair come down the stairs and he's hated them ever since. You know it helps if you remember that in these movies they almost never get things right."

"Oh yeah that helps a whole lot," I said sarcastically but gave in and turned my attention to the TV. It wasn't long before we heard the banging on the bathtub and I couldn't help but flinch every time. By the time the movie was finished the distance between Dean and I had closed to practically nothing and I was clutching his hand tightly.

"You alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," I replied shakily. "I think we're going to need one more movie after that one. But no more horror."

"Sounds good, now would you let go of my hand?" I released his hand and he shook it out a few time to get the feeling back. "I think I should watch horror movies with chicks more often." He grinned at me, "You were practically in my lap for the whole thing."

I could feel my cheeks heating up at the remark and stood to get another movie. Once we had finished watching that one we headed for bed, me in my room and him on the couch.