Dean sat, staring at the more than half closed drawer. He wasn't the most sensitive guy-that was obvious even to him every now and then. But when Claire had stepped onto his hand, he could literally feel how tense and tired and...scared she was. Sam said something in a quiet voice, but Dean didn't hear his brother, his green eyes absently watching his fingers lightly curl to touch his palm.

"Dean?"

The blond hunter jumped and swore under his breath when a pillow hit him on the back of his head. Scowling faintly, he stood up and looked at his younger brother.

"What?" He hissed.

Sam dropped the bed sheets he had pulled back, his hands going up in a fake gesture of surrender.

"Don't we need a game plan for tomorrow?" Sam asked.

Dean continued to scowl at his brother as his mind switched from...emo weirdness, and tiny...beautiful...women...and back to what the Winchesters needed to do. Making himself ignore slightly ajar drawer somewhere around his hip, he stomped over to the bathroom door and jerked his head, signaling toward it. Sam raised his eyebrow as his brother flicked on the bathroom light and turned on the sink. He stepped over and leaned against the doorjam.

"Calling me over to the bathroom? Should I be afraid to drop the soap?"

"Don't be cute Sammy." Dean said in a quiet growl. He grabbed his toothbrush and squirted toothpaste onto it. "What's with you and just...grabbing her like that, huh?"

Blood drained from Sam's cheeks. "Wha-...what? I was...just helping her out!" He sputtered.

"Yah, sure thing. Idiot." Dean grunted over his toothbrush. He spat into the sink and kept talking. "Tomorrow, you are going to get up early and go back to the bar I found Claire at. Do the Fed act and get some answers. You know what...Say you're her cousin or something. It's too early for law enforcement to take an official report. Try and see what they saw, if they knew the guy... Maybe recognize the name Ables. Even urban legends at this point would be a step forward."

Sam cleared his throat, trying to forget how he felt earlier, holding Claire. "Alright, I can do that. What about you? Gonna keep an eye on her I'm guessing?" Sam smiled a small, smug smile when Dean seemed to blush a little.

"Shut up. I'm gonna take Claire to her place. We're gonna close it up, make it look like she took a last minute trip... And I need to see if there's any more hex bags around the place. It's likely Man-witch had her place magically bugged for months. He's been planning this one out."

Sam frowned and grabbed his own toothbrush as Dean moved to the towels. "Maybe you should wait till I can go too-..."

"No. I think the longer we wait, the more chance we have of losing this guy. Or...and this is what im really worried about...That he's gonna go there himself to...I dunno. He seems like a real creep though. And the sooner we can get him off our tail and on to his, the better. I'll call Bobby too."

Sam nodded and let his brother walk back into their room. Dean seemed to be seriously focused and in complete hunter mode now. Usually it was best to stand back and support him when he got this way. Dean took a deep breath as he grabbed his duffel and found a pair of sweats. Checking that the drawer was as closed as he remembered, he quickly changed into the sweats. He sat down in the bed and pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner. He stared at the table for a moment more, and then carefully turned the light off...he just kept his fingers from trailing over the tabletop before laying down.

Low rumbling awoke Claire, accompanied by vibrations that shook her entire bed. What the heck? Was a plane flying real low or something...?

Footsteps, a part of her mind corrected her. Claire opened her eyes. She didn't move, didn't complain or scream. She blinked, staring at the half-lit wooden wall across from her. The light illuminating the bottom third of the room wasn't sunlight; it was incandescent light.

'I'm four inches tall, sleeping in a nightstand drawer... In a motel who knows where... Sam and Dean were their names I think... Oh God, I'm in Dean's shirt! Still not sure how I feel about that. I can't believe this is actually happening...'

Her sleepy mind stated facts, keeping instinctual panic at bay for now. Quietly, Claire stood up, taming her mussed hair as she crept forward toward the edge of the drawer. Standing on her very tiptoes, she could barely wrap her fingertips over the edge. Not enough to pull herself up. Damn. She rocked back onto her heels with a sigh, but paused to listen in as they started talking... From the gist of it, she gathered that Sam was getting ready to leave... Dean was giving him walking directions to the bar. It was weird, there was a clear discipline in their methods, even though they worked outside of law enforcement.

Sam promised to call with information, and shut the door behind him. Dean grunted as he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He had forgotten about the wall he had been thrown at last night. The bruises on his shoulder and back hadn't though. 'Good God. I probably don't want to know what ugly ass color they are now.' Taking in a deep breath, he stood up and swung his arms over his head, feeling the stretch pull at the stiff and bruised muscles. He winced and pulled the bruised arm behind his head to better stretch it. The hunters brain was already moving towards his normal wake up routine, his thoughts slowly grinding toward pushups and a warm shower; the cool room sent goosebumps across his bare torso.

As she heard the door close, there was a shifting of fabric that sounded like Dean standing up. Crap, if she didn't get his attention now, who knows when he'd decide to let her out?

"Dean! Wait!"

Rolling his head around to stretch his neck, Dean stepped to find a clear spot in the room, when he heard a soft, rather high pitched sound. Like a bird maybe? Or...

Oh...geez, that's right. Hand reaching up to absently run through his messy short hair, he turned towards the night stand.

"Claire?" his voice was still thick and he noisily cleared it. He reached for the drawer and started to pull it out, but instantly stopped and winced when he heard a surprised squeak. "Oh crap. Sorry, Claire."

His voice sounded like a guilty kid. Moving slower he pulled the drawer out and looked down. Seeing her again after a night made him pause. She was just incredible. He grinned sheepishly at her miffed face.

"Unh...you want out of there then?" He laid his hand next to her like he had last night. She looked so small next to his hand. "I was gonna...do some push ups and stuff and grab a shower. You wanna wait on the bed? It'll be warmer than the table I guess."

Claire shot him an annoyed look. the drawer would NOT be happening again. It was so nerve-wracking every time they opened or closed it. She nearly did a double take between Dean and his hand when it sank in that he was not only a giant to her- he was shirtless. She felt nervous as she stepped onto his palm, but not entirely out of fear strangely enough.

"No, you're fine.." She insisted.

...damn fine, she added privately, casually watching slopes of his bare torso pass her as he raised her closer to eye level. Suddenly flushed and nearly breathless, she looked up at his face.

"I feel like a creeper, sitting in on your morning routine." She remarked dryly as he lowered her to the bed.

Dean grinned impishly as Claire settled herself in the bed. "Well I'll try to give you a good show then."

"Oh and, um... We can have breakfast at my place if you want." She offered on a whim. "Obviously, I can't open the fridge myself, but I've got some juice and muffins at least."

Eyes flicking to the balled up sheets near the end of the bed, he reached for them and tugged the flannel sheet loose. Still smiling slightly, he carefully laid the blanket over Claire's legs. But as he watched the sheet settle, he suddenly realized what he was doing.

"Unh...In case you get cold. But uh...Yeah. muffins you say? Sounds good to me." He smiled again at the copper haired girl. This time it felt forced though.

Her eyebrows drew up in a bewildered frown as the hand came back after setting her down on the bed. What was he... Was he tucking her in? What the heck! Claire sucked in a breathful of air, but all questions died on her tongue when she saw the soft look on his billboard sized face. It made her heart launch into cosmic speed. Then he stood up and his presence became less overwhelming.

That was sweet of him I guess. And.. Really weird.

The hunter quietly stood and walked over to the open spot between the bed and opening for the kitchen, dropping down into a push up position without another word. He pushed himself harder than usual, feeling the bruised muscles ache but loosen. The bruises themselves hurt like a bitch but he had to deal.

Claire gnawed on her lower lip, butterflies erupting in her stomach. Okay now he's just being mean, she mentally exclaimed as he started into an upper body workout right there in front of her. Feeling like an intruder, she at first she tried to avert her eyes but... Hey, why not take advantage of the one benefit of her kooky predicament?

Grunting as he stood up, Dean looked at Claire. ..who was almost completely lost in the bed. He could tell that she was still awake even though he couldn't exactly see her eyes.

"I'll be right out but you can sleep if you want. I guess we'll...figure something out for you when im done." He barely waited for a reply before quietly shutting the bathroom door behind him. 'Get over yourself you idiot. She isn't your girl. This isn't like life when you had...' the thought trailed off as the water poured over him.

"..Right." Claire answered quietly. The door closed and his big steps became muffled by walls and running water.

Her small hands clenched at the sheets he had drawn over her, turning her eyes down towards the magnified stitching. It suddenly occurred to her that she was sitting in the massive crater where he had been lying down a short time ago. A small bead of fear began to wonder if maybe Dean was just leading her on. What if his intentions weren't far off from Abels'?

No. He's being sincere. I.. I think he really wants to help me. He's given me no reason to distrust him yet, anyway. I guess I'll just have to stay on guard regardless till I get out of this mess.

Size was coming to redefine almost everything for her. She hated it.

"Ugh.." She groaned, throwing off the covers and starting pace in front the length of the pillow. One one of her passes, something metallic caught the light and Claire paused. Leaning down a bit, she saw there was something under the pillow. Impulsively, she reached to pull it into the open. It was cold and metallic and HEAVY. But the edge of the pillow she could lift up enough that she could get a picture of what it was.

It was a handgun.

Dean ran some gel through his damp hair and checked himself in the mirror one final time, washing his hands while wondering if he should've gone without shaving. If anyone saw him and wanted to report it to the cops, some growth might have made him look older from a distance.

"Too late." he muttered. The hunter felt a little better after a few minutes alone and a shower. At least more focused. Now he could better separate the need to protect Claire and find the bad guy, from...feelings from the other life he lived for awhile. Crap. When did I turn into such a girl? The fact that I even kinda understand what the hell is wrong with me is almost worse...Im practically turning into Sam. he thought with a laugh.

The tiny woman flinched as she heard Dean open the bathroom door and step into the bedroom.

"You sleep with a loaded gun under your pillow? I'm not THAT scary, I am?" She added the joke to hopefully lighten his mood... In case he got angry for sneaking a peek at his stuff. But her smile couldn't mask the increasing anxiety in her posture.

Caught off guard, Dean blinked his green eyes, staring at the four inch woman standing in front of his now partially exposed gun. Something in him tensed at the sight of someone so close to a gun when he didn't have one in hand. Particularly someone so vulnerable to damage. But it started to loosen back up as he finally noticed Claire's body language. Putting a smile on his face, Dean casually walked over to the bed and knelt by his duffel bag, slowly pulling out a nondescript grey long sleeve shirt.

"You? Terrifying. But..." he paused to slip the shirt over his head. "...That's to protect us. Not to...scare you."

He paused again and looked at Claire. Dean didn't know how to really describe his job without sounding crazy or maybe even turn Claire into a jumpy mess.

"Being a hunter isn't...easy. It's damn scary at times. But once you learn about what can get you when you're not looking, you start taking what precautions you have to. But hey. At least you can trust us to always be prepared to help you out." He gave her a half-smile again and hoped the answer had eased her fear of the gun. He could honestly tell himself he didn't want her scared of him. It'd make the job harder if he constantly had to calm her down anyway. 'Though I don't get how she can be so...scrappy still. I'm a...I'm a giant to her. There's a scenario I never considered.'

Claire listened intently, easily able to observe the magnified look in his eyes... Like a war veteran. But he couldn't have been much older than her. A strange twinge of sympathy ebbed and flowed, giving her the desire to give him a hug or something. The movement of his big pink lips forming words was getting less unnerving and more hypnotizing.

"Oh, y-yeah. It sounds brutal..." She trailed off. How many monsters had he killed? How many were out there? She heaved a massive sigh and tried to appear relaxed.

"Anyway," Dean went on. "Did you want to...get cleaned up or something? I need to make a call, so we still got some time."

"A shower sounds heavenly." She said. Claire held her breath as Dean laid out a hand for her.

"You're getting better at this." She remarked, her little hazel eyes flitting up to his briefly.

It was true; he had quickly improved from last night, when he could barely fathom picking her up. It made her feel like she had some catching up to do, since the whole process of being carried in his gigantic hands still made her stomach plummet each and every time.

As he stood up, Dean caught Claire's gaze. The small smile on her face caught him off guard and he paused for a split second. She actually looked...honest and teasing. Still somewhat...uncomfortable maybe. But yet again the hunter found himself floored by her ability to keep it together. Even joke.

He gave her a lopsided grin and carefully cupped her close to his chest as he walked to the bathroom.

"Really? Maybe ill have to put it on my resume. Dunno how I'd word it though. What the hell would be the PC term for unh..." he lowered his hand to the bathroom counter and eyes narrowed a little as he considered some phrases, "Someone in your...predicament. 'Small person' is taken already I think..." Dean looked away and cleared his throat, suddenly wondering if he'd taken the joke a little far. He sometimes forgot that his humor-filter wasn't the best and he tended to either insult or confuse people.

She averted her gaze while he continued his joke. Borrower, maybe. Next to nothing. She didn't really want to think about classifying herself just yet. She saw a glimpse of her reflection next to his. It was ridiculous to say the least. He was so big.

"Well unh...I guess the showers out of the question. So...the sink?" He said and lifted a hopeful eyebrow. He reached for his towel and wiped the sink out before he stopped it. Focusing and wracking his brain for what a girl liked shower-wise, he did his best to set the sink up for Claire.

"The sink? But I'm..." Claire looked up sharply at the underside of his chin, intending to correct him. She trailed off as she caught sight of the sink. It was, like everything else, enormous beyond compare. Easily the size of a kiddie pool. Her gaze drifted on to the shower behind. She had imagined she might just stand under the water stream on the floor... But at this size, maybe even the water droplet size would be too much. She internally cringed at the idea of being pelted by water like bullets. Sink it was. Maybe Dean had a better perspective on this than she gave him credit for.

"Unh...well our stuff is all...guy stuff. So, soap, conditioner, and shampoo in one. And you'll likely smell like Axe for days. But, I'll check on you in half an hour."

Dean smiled at the tiny woman, trying not to fall into full dumbass mode when he really noticed just how small she looked next to a razor he forgot to pick up. Claire smiled at his obvious kindness of setting this up for her, even craning her neck back to make sure he saw it. Even still... Feeling a little awkward, he ducked out. Her eyes followed his towering form until he disappeared from sight.

"I am a frickin mess." Claire groaned, turning to assess her own reflection. Wrinkled clothes, smudged eye makeup, a healing cut on her lip, some bruises forming on her upper arms. That tingling feeling that something was very very wrong never left her a single step as she washed up. It was a feeling she was gonna have to get used to.

Dean sat down heavily on the bed. Before his brain started to take off, he pulled out his phone.

9am. Hopefully Bobby's not gonna be too pissed for calling early.

Dean put the cell up to his ear and the dial tone rang obnoxiously in his ear. His hand came up and rubbed the bridge of his nose, hoping he could get a good cup of coffee made to go along with the muffins Claire had promised. Beer would be bad. Maybe after a muffin or two...or four. 'Wonder how Claire is about an early morning pick-me-up...Though I guess she's probably not too against it, considering.' he thought with a chuckle.

The hunter was idly wondering how he could work the joke into a conversation with the girl, when a growling and gravely voice grunted into his ear.

"Damnit boy, don't you known what time it is? I have been up all night, scouring what I could possibly find for you idjits and you still have the balls to call me before I've had time for a good coffee?"

Dean winced. "How about you have a beer for both of us then, Bobby. Something happened last night that's blown this thing WIDE open."

A noncommittal snort was followed by the sound of a refrigerator door opening and quickly slamming shut. "Crap. Outta beer. Well why don't you just put me out of my misery while I make a pot of coffee?"

Dean had to grin at the despondency in ut tthe other hunters twangy voice. "Bobby...I can barely even get the words out but. We have another victim. That shrinking angle none of us wanted to believe? Turns out we're idiots."

Dean laid the night out for Bobby, starting with what he had gone through, and after pulling out his notes, retold Claire's. "This poor girl is only like...FOUR INCHES tall now! I can barely believe what I'm seeing when I look at her."

"Damn." the older man said, his voice easily giving away his uncertainty and probably outright disbelief. "Did you get a picture of her that you can send me?"

Dean scowled. "NO! I have not been the douchebag who tries to take a picture of the woman who got shrunk last night! She's been through a lot alre-..."

"Okay okay! That's not...what I meant! Stop getting your panties inna twist, Sally. It's just...I never heard of any kind of supernatural creature or monster being able to SHRINK people. Hell, I thought this was a wild goose chase that'd give you two a vacation of some kind."

"Really? Well that's awfully sweet of you Bobby. But now me and Sam have a freaking man-witch looking for our tails! The only good thing is that I got to Claire before he did! More or less... Now we got a lead though. We need you to look for any other references of Abels, shrinking. ...male witches...Whatever will get us some kind of advantage on this guy. But we also need to find a contact...A healer...whatever that will get Claire back to normal, and tell us what Abels meant by Claire's background."

"Yahyah...I think I got some leads on the witch community. It's gonna take some major digging. At least demons keep using their names...I doubt this guy will make it so easy. But the anti-shrinking thing... That could take a few tries. I'll make a call to a friend in Ireland right away. Just, you be nice to that girl alright?" Bobby's voice took on a harder edge, sounding like a stern uncle or father. "Maybe you should let Sam take care of her. He's got more patience for victims. .."

Dean flushed and cut Bobby off, "HEY! I can be a nice guy! And she's pretty tough! And I... She... We- Unh! Just call us when you have something! I gotta get our new roommate outta the bathroom and figure out how to drive her around without scarring her for life." Dean snapped the phone closed and flopped down onto his bed.

God...If you're there...PLEASE make all the idiots get out of my way before I shoot someone!

It was partially overcast today. A little chilly for mid-April, too.

Claire stood on the dashboard of the Impala, facing away from its driver. Dean's voice rumbled behind her like soft thunder. But for some reason, she didn't fully process his question just yet. She stared at her apartment building with thoughts running rampant through her head.

Dean tried not to stare at Claire, who had turned back around and was studying the view outside the windshield again. But who wouldn't when an action figure-sized woman was standing on your cars dashboard? As Dean's eyes took in Claire, he started to notice how the raising sunlight outlined her figure, how the slight movement from hand on her hip were her fingers tapping, how her ass-

"Hey, Claire?"

The shadow of a giant hand made her jump out of the way and whirl to face him.

"Sorry! Yeah let's get in there..." She murmured. Claire started to him, then stopped short and threw her hands out as if hitting an invisible wall.

"Wait! I didn't even tell you how to get the spare key! How were you planning on getting in?" There was no embarrassment in the look Dean gave her, which puzzled her. "..Never mind. Look, you're going to need to talk to the receptionist. Ask for Jamie. The keyword is Maroon 5."

"Uh...what?" Dean coughed out. "Maroon 5? C'mon, don't tell me you're a hipster." A somewhat disapproving frown popped onto the hunter's face.

"You shut your mouth!" Claire blurted out, jumping to defend both herself and her taste in music. "Maroon 5 is so not a hipster band! They're classic indie pop... I like them, so get over it." She gave crossed her arms across her chest, as if to say: end of the discussion.

Belatedly, she replayed this and her face promptly heated up from realization. It wasn't embarrassment, but clarity. Frightening clarity. Though she hadn't thought about it long enough to put into words, a primary reason she got so nervous around Dean was the knowledge of how easily things could go from bad to worse if she ticked him off.

Suddenly, that wave of vertigo slammed into her and Dean seemed to grow before her eyes. How was she even having a normal conversation with something so colossal? She could almost feel the vibrations of his voice carried through the air...

Dean frowned, his green eyes watching Claire intently. Why had she suddenly gotten so stiff and quiet? Was she nervous about something?

"Classic Indie? You obviously need to get a new dictionary and look up 'classic' again." He muttered his reply.

I should just tell her that I'm gonna break-in and be done with it. Why am I...embarrassed or something? he thought moodily.

"I dunno about going in and talking with the landlord, Claire. Me and Sam have to keep low profiles, and your apartment isn't exactly motel 6. I need to keep this guy from remembering- Oh... Crap. I guess there's always the disguise route." He leveled an even more moody and grumpy scowl at Claire.

Claire shifted her weight foot to foot, arms crossed less strictly as she gave Dean a thoughtful look up and down.

"You're right... We gotta tone down that whole 'homicidal Abercrombie model' vibe."

"What?" He said and almost forgot to keep his voice low. "That's just insulting. I've NEVER smelled that bad. And believe me. I've had my low moments."

Claire snorted at his reply, even though his voice boomed in her ears. Funny how 'homicidal' didn't bother him as much as the designer brand company.

Noticing that she still seems nervous, he frowned again, not realizing that it looked something like a scowl. 'Maybe she doesn't think I can pull it off.'

"And look. I've already got a disguise," he said and leaned back to find the right duffel bag, "There's a pair of skinny jeans, a clean hoodie with a Beatles logo, and this girly ass, chunky...knitted whatever beanie...Wait...Crap!" Dean growled as he pulled the bag into his lap to look in it better. "The beanie's gone!"

He looked back at Claire and his annoyed scowl softened into a...less harsh version. "Ok. So...The beanie is supposed to cover my face enough to basically hide me. Without it... It looks like we're back to Plan A... Which is me breaking into your apartment."

She turned back to face him, momentarily stiffening from the hard look on his face. Shit, this guy can be scary when he wants to. Dean didn't seem to notice, and he carried on about the disguise. She raised an eyebrow, looking increasingly apprehensive as he named the fact that they carried skinny jeans around made her smirk privately. But then-

"What?!" She exclaimed, slack-jawed. "You were just going to break into my apartment? Just like that?"

Turned out those creeping suspicions that these guys had tousled with the law were completely true. Criminal records. Given the desperate situation, she was able to push that out of mind for the time being. She just had to get back to normal. Then this nightmare would be over. She took a deep breath and let it out.

"Look, no offense, but your idea of a disguise is shady as hell. We don't get a lot of visitors around except on holidays."

Despite the look he gave her, Claire went on, walking over to the dashboard connecting to the steering wheel and climbing down to sit on the circular center of it right in front of Dean.

"First thing, fix your collar." She pointed to the uneven side of it, folded in on itself in haste. Not a big deal in general, but if he wanted to look legit... The devil's in the details. She pursed her lips after he begrudgingly followed her instructions, looking more annoyed all the while. "Now you just need a finishing touch."

She looked outside windshield at the occasional passing cars and pedestrians walking around or from the apartment complex. Claire spotted a little vendor selling newspapers and reading glasses on the street corner. She smiled at the thought of achieving a small, harmless sort of revenge for the hipster accusation.

Perfect.