May 28th Update - I just changed the rounds in the guns from iron to silver, so there's no need to reread. I don't know what I was thinking the other day! Sorry!

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Anne had never been to the city before. She and her older brother had grown up in Ravenna, Nebraska, a small town with a population of less than 1,500 people. The two of them had always been close, but the summer Anne turned sixteen, Ben had left, going in search of something bigger and better than what Ravenna could offer. His path had eventually led him to Chicago, and although they had kept in touch by phone, Anne hadn't seen him since.

As she stepped off of the train in Union Station, Anne smiled to herself. Everything was about to change. Earlier that week, she had made the spur of the moment decision to pay her brother a visit for his birthday. Ben had readily agreed, in spite of the short notice. So here she was, in Chicago.

Outside the station, Anne observed the bustle around her with a certain amount of fascination. She hailed one of the many cabs speeding down the street and grinned as it stopped next to the curb in front of her. She had never ridden in a taxi before. Inside, she gave the cabbie her brother's address and concentrated on enjoying her first cab ride.

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After the cab pulled up in front of Ben's apartment building, Anne quickly paid the cabbie and exited the car, content for the moment to have her feet on solid ground. After five minutes in what she was already referring to as "The Taxi Ride from Hell," she had decided that riding in a taxi certainly wasn't all it was rumored to be. It was exciting, but the high speeds and the blatant disregard for the surrounding traffic had been somewhat nerve-wracking.

When she had finally assured herself that she wasn't going to lose her dinner, Anne walked up to the door of the building and rang the bell to her brother's apartment. After waiting for a few moments without receiving a response, she tried again. Still no answer.

Sighing in frustration, Anne sank down to the sidewalk to sit and wait. She knew she should have invested in a cell phone! She rested her head in her hands, allowing her red hair to fall around her face.

Anne had almost begun to doze when she was startled into wakefulness by a hand on her shoulder. She quickly looked up at the person beside her and was confronted by the kind face of an elderly lady.

"You must be Anne," the woman said with a gentle smile. "I'm Mrs. Macalister, your brother's next-door-neighbor. I recognized you from his photos of the two of you. You look just like him, you know."

Anne rose to her feet and offered Mrs. Macalister her hand. "It's very nice to meet you. Do you by any chance know where Ben is?"

Mrs. Macalister nodded. "Ben said he had to take someone else's shift tonight; there was no one else to do it. He was very upset about it and wanted me to tell you how sorry he was if I saw you."

"Did he say how late he'd be working?" Anne asked.

"He's closing tonight. Probably won't be back until around three in the morning. You're welcome to wait in my apartment if you'd like."

Anne smiled appreciatively but shook her head. "I'd hate to be an inconvenience, Mrs. Macalister, and I haven't had dinner yet. I think I'll just meet him at the restaurant."

"Are you sure?" Mrs. Macalister asked doubtfully.

"Positive," Anne told her confidently.

"Well, be sure to take a cab, then. I don't want to scare you, dear, but Chicago isn't a safe place for a girl to be alone at night."

"All right, ma'am. I'll be careful," Anne replied. She wished Mrs. Macalister a good night and watched as the elderly woman disappeared inside the building. She then began to stride down the dimly-lit sidewalk, her previous taxi-ride fresh in her mind. She would rather take her chances walking. Ben worked at one of the many restaurants on the Navy Pier, which was only about a mile and a half away. She would be there in no time.

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Their shotguns loaded with silver rounds, the Winchester brothers cruised the streets of downtown Chicago, alert for signs of their shapeshifting quarry. As soon as the sun had set, a thick fog had begun to roll in off the lake, and most of Dean's attention was focused on maneuvering the Impala through it.

"See anything suspicious?" Dean asked.

Peering through the window, Sam replied, "No, I don't see—wait—pull over, Dean."

As the car rolled to a stop, the brothers were able to discern two figures arguing on the sidewalk, one a large man, the other a red-haired woman. The man seemed to loom over the small woman aggressively, his hand wrapped around her wrist.

Sam reached over to open his door, but was stopped by Dean's hand on his arm.

"Don't forget—it has to be shot in its human form to be killed."

Sam turned to glare at his brother. "Yeah, I know, Dean."

Dean shrugged innocently. "It never hurts to double check."

"Shut up."

With that exchange, the two of them flung open the doors of the Impala, shotguns drawn, and rapidly approached the arguing couple.

"Run!" Sam shouted at the woman, who seemed to be frozen where she stood, looking at him fearfully.

Dean stood with his shotgun leveled at the previously menacing man, who now had tears in his eyes. Dean glanced over at the terrified woman.

"Get her out of here, Sam!"

At this, the man spoke, "Please, I'll give you all the money I have. Just don't hurt Sandy."

Sam and Dean exchanged confused looks. It was then that Sam noticed the packet of papers each of them was holding.

"What's that?" he asked, pointing.

The man held up the papers. "This is the script of a play we were going to try out for. Actually, we were practicing for it just now." He offered it to Dean, his hand shaking. "You can have it if you want it."

Dean ignored the proffered script and instead strode back to the car. "I can't believe this," he muttered angrily. He slid into his seat and slammed the door behind him.

Thinking on his feet, Sam pulled out one of the badges Dean had given him. "I'm sorry for the inconvenience, sir." He nodded toward the woman. "Ma'am. I'm Officer Jones. My partner and I were on patrol, and we spotted you arguing here. Sir, we mistook you for a suspect we're trying to apprehend…."

After a few minutes of reassuring the terrified couple, Sam returned to the Impala. Taking his seat, he turned to scowl at Dean. "Thanks for abandoning me," he said sarcastically.

Dean returned his brother's glare. "You got us into that one."

Sam shook his head emphatically. "That so wasn't my fault."

"Wanna make a bet?" Dean asked forebodingly as he started the engine.

"You're the one who was threatening those people with a shotgun."

Dean glowered at his brother, unconvinced. "So were you, you moron! Why didn't you notice the scripts they were holding?"

Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh, so that was supposed to be my responsibility?"

"Well, I was driving…."

The Winchester brothers' bickering continued as they resumed their patrol.

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Author's Note: I just wanted to thank everyone who's reviewed so far; your feedback is really appreciated. I hope you don't think Sam and Dean's misadventure in this chapter was too silly--I had a lot of fun writing it! And, as always, thanks to Chelsey for her amazing beta-reading skills; she has an awful lot of patience...