Backseat Driver by Katty Noir

I knew I wouldn't forget you, and so I went and let you blow my mind
You're sweet moon beam, the smell of you in every single dream I dream
I knew when we collided, you're the one I have decided who's one of my kind

Hey soul sister, ain't that Mr. Mister on the radio, stereo, the way you move ain't fair, you know,
Hey soul sister, I don't want to miss a single thing you do tonight

Just in time, I'm so glad you have a one-track mind like me
You gave my life direction, a game show love connection we can't deny
I'm so obsessed, my heart is bound to beat right out my untrimmed chest
I believe in you, like a virgin, you're Madonna, and I'm always gonna wanna blow your mind

Chapter Five: Hey, Soul Sister

"Hey, Sammy," said Dean around a mouthful of bacon-cheeseburger. He flapped the newspaper at his brother, swallowed, and said, "Think I got somethin'."

They were in a diner, a few hours out of New York. They'd been back in America a total of four hours, were still jetlagged and a little hungover, and were already, it seemed, on another case.

Not for the first time, Katty wondered if she'd made a mistake in signing up for this life.

Sam took the rustling newspaper and glanced at Katty. Her eyes were half-closed and she was staring vacantly at her cup of coffee, mouth open and shoulders slumped; the after effects of rather intense jetlag and a first hangover. Sam just shook his head, lips twitching.

"Lizzie Borden house," said Dean, raising his eyebrows and hitting the back of the paper with a fork. Sam looked at him over the top of the paper.

"Thought that was just a tourist attraction."

"Yeah, well, we know the story's real," said Dean with a last shrug, settling back in his seat. "Girl goes crazy, whacks her dad and step-mom-" Dean paused, eyes darting around, and cocked his head. "Like, literally, whacks them."

"That's a fun word," said Katty in a far-away, dazed sort of voice, still gazing, half-asleep, into her coffee. "Whacks. Whacks. Whuu-acks."

"You sound retarded," said Dean flatly. "Shut up."

Katty shut up and kept staring.

"But three days ago," continued Dean after shoving half of his baconater into his mouth, "a grou' o' dose 'ost 'unners went in."

He gave a massive swallow and Sam stared at him, drop jawed, trying to figure out if he was concerned at the amount of cholesterol his brother had been ingesting or that he'd been able to understand him.

"You're my hero," said Katty, her voice still dry and dreamy.

"I know," said Dean to Katty before returning to his conversation with Sam. "And one of them died. Head smashed in with an axe."

"Just like the dad and step mother."

"Yep."

"What are the police saying?"

"They say one of the ghost hunters did it."

Sam shrugged and dropped the paper on the table. "Guess we're going to Pennsylvania."

Katty's head fell onto the table with a thud, rattling the plates and silver wear.

Ten minutes later, they were back in the Impala and speeding along the summery, eastern highway.

Dean rolled the windows down and cranked up the music, a grin on his face as the wind blew through his short hair.

"You know," he said, speaking loudly over the music and the wind, "London was nice and all, but there's nothin' like a long road and you and your own car and your own music."

"Yeah," said Sam, his elbow out of the window, a grin spreading over his face. "Yeah, this is nice."

Dean glanced in the rearview mirror and saw Katty, lying across the backseat with her head on her pillow. She looked back at him and gave a long grunt.

Dean looked back at the road in front of him and cocked his head.

"Articulate as ever, I see."

000

"Hi, we're from the University of Pennsylvania." Sam gave the security guard a wide and innocent smile. "Forensic majors."

"Writing a thesis about axe wounds and blood drops," said Katty, and the guard's eyes flashed to her and her charming grin- the plunging neckline of her shirt probably didn't hurt, either.

"And we were wondering if we could take a look at Blake Stewart's body," finished Dean, giving a smile that was not quite as innocent as Sam's or charming as Katty's. The guard looked between them, shrugged, and rose to his feet, his chair scraping gratingly across the tiled floor.

"Follow me," he said and led them down a hallway with flickering lights. The Winchester exchanged a glance; they were surprised that the exchange had resulted in them getting what they wanted.

"It's her shirt," mouthed Dean, pointing a thumb at Katty, and the Sasquatch-sized-Winchester rolled his eyes.

The guard opened a door to a cold, grey room with one wall that looked like an enormous filing cabinet. Dean saw Katty repress a shudder, and he would have smirked at her, but he didn't much like morgues either. Too cold, too gray, too… dead.

The guard pulled out one of the trays with a metallic scrape, and even Dean winced when he saw the body. Katty recoiled with an obvious grimace, her face draining.

Dean shook his head, giving a low whistle. "Wow. Someone went a little- crazy."

The guard snorted. "Yeah, ya got that right."

He left them a few minutes later after making a few awkward passes at Katty while the boys looked at the body. She shot him down politely and sighed as the door shut. The boys didn't even pretend that they hadn't been listening.

"It's the shirt," said Dean, bent over the body's mangled head as Katty stood next to him. She just snorted and gave a half shrug.

"No argument there."

Sam, as usual, was rolling his eyes at their good-natured banter, and leaned over the mangled cranium of the victim.

"Well," he said, raising his eyebrows and wrinkling his nose, "there's really not much here to go on."

"There's a smashed-in skull," said Katty, always helpful, as she stared at the remains of the skull.

"Yeah, that gives us something to go on," snarked Dean. Katty gave him a wide, 'I know I'm adorable' grin that made him roll his eyes even as his lips twitched.

"Apart from his head, though," said Sam, yet again ignoring the other two, "there's nothing wrong with him."

"Just like Lizzie's family," said Dean, while Katty shrugged.

"The head was enough, though."

Dean sighed. "Guess we should go check out the house."

"Get everything you need?" the guard asked as they walked past him.

"Everything," they said in unison, and then the door slammed shut behind them. The guard watched as they walked, side by side, with an incredible range in heights, to the Impala. They climbed in, the girl in the backseat, and sped off, classic rock playing loudly.

000

"This is a cheery place," said Katty, staring up at the rickety house, leaning up against the Impala as the boys dug through the open trunk. "People stay here? Willingly?"

"What do you mean?" asked Dean as Sam slammed the trunk shut, walking around the classic car to her. She nodded at the house.

"It's a bed-and-breakfast," she said. Dean regarded the house for a moment and then shrugged.

"Nothing like murder to make a honeymoon spot."

"That's messed up."

"Gives us an easy cover," said Sam, always practical, gesturing loosely at the house. "That'll make things a little easier."

They got their duffels (the Winchesters' were black; Katty's, a bright blue), Sam grabbed a credit card and some IDs and then they approached the house, Katty eyeing it warily.

"Getting' any ghost vibes, kid?" asked Dean under his breath, half jokingly, as he pushed the door open and the bell gave a chime that was cheerful and ironic, considering the locale. He watched her look around, an intense look on her face.

"Something's… off," she said, her voice a little confused and her brow furrowed. Dean chuckled.

"That tends to happen when people die violent."

The receptionist was an attractive man in maybe his early twenties, with brown hair and piercing, dusky blue eyes. Dean noticed Katty staring as they approached the front desk, and he smirked.

Teenagers and their hormones.

"One room," said Dean gruffly, giving the man a tightening of his lips that liked to pretend it was a smile.

"Two queens?" asked the receptionist, glancing at Katty and then performing something like a double take. Dean repressed the urge to roll his eyes; she got a lot of stares. It wasn't that she resembled Megan Fox, or anything, but, until you looked closely, she looked ordinary. Once one looked closely, though, they saw that there was nothing ordinary about her, and that's when the staring started. Dean found it amusing.

"Yep."

He gave Katty an accommodating smile a slid her the room key with a wink. She blushed, which was probably the girliest thing Dean had ever seen her do, and grinned, her eyelashes brushing her cheeks as she looked down.

Something snapped in Dean's mind. It may have been logic and common sense.

Dean turned his head slowly, all traces of amusement at Katty's hormones gone, to glare menacingly at the boy before putting a rough arm around her shoulders and guiding her to the stairs without thinking about it. She gave him an odd but not unhappy look from under her dark lashes, Sam glanced at him with a brow raised, and the receptionist cleared his throat awkwardly, but they all said nothing.

000

"I mean, did you see him staring at her?" asked Dean later, his deep voice indignant. "What a-a-a jerk!"

Sam just looked at him, eyes narrowed slightly in confusion.

"You're getting kind of… protective."

Dean looked up at him for a second with wide eyes and an open mouth. "I'm not…protective," he said, his voice overly scornful.

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "Nothing wrong with it, Dean. She's a girl- a pretty girl- and she's younger than us." He shrugged. "It's natural you're feeling protective."

"Sam," said Dean, his voice now very warning. "I am not protective.

The bathroom door opened and Katty walked out, looking more made-up than normal. Her hair was down and her eyelids her golden. She ruined the pretty look, however, by tripping over her bag as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom.

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Nice," he said.

"That didn't happen," she said firmly, raising her eyebrows. Sam smiled and Dean rolled his eyes.

"Course it didn't," said Sam.

"What's with the get-up?" asked Dean, eyeing her. She was dressed up, too- for her, at least. Jeans and a nice shirt with a v-neck that Dean was enjoying. She gave him a shark-like grin as she dug her iPhone and earbuds out of her bag.

"What get-up?"

He followed her to the door, almost without realizing that he was doing it.

"The not-crazy hair and the- the glitter-"

She put in an earbud.

"Don't know what you're talking about."

But her grin said otherwise.

"Going to get some food," she said, and shut the door behind her, taking the scent of some kind of flower with her.

Dean stared at the closed door.

"Protective," called Sam to his brother with a small smile.

000

Katty came back two hours later with bags of Sonic, a grin, and a glowing blush in her cheeks that Dean associated with chick flicks and Sam with Jess.

"Took you a while to get some food," said Dean shortly, his hands behind his head and his legs stretched out across the bed, crossed at the ankles.

"Yeah," she said, putting her iPhone on the dresser. "Got to talking."

Sam looked up from his computer and Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah?" he asked, his voice forcedly nonchalant. "With who?"

Her grin widened, her eyes sparkling. "With Sawyer. The receptionist."

She sat down the food and then flopped back on the bed next to Sam with a sigh, still grinning widely. Dean looked at the way her breasts sat on her chest, the silver chain of her cross pooling in the hollow of her collarbone. He swallowed and looked away.

What would Sammy do. What would Sammy do.

"You talked for two hours?" he asked, his voice very gruff. He cleared his throat.

"An hour and a half. Then he took me to Sonic. Got you guys some food."

"Well, aren't you considerate."

"I try." She rolled off the bed suddenly, disappearing into the bathroom with her bag and emerging again her baggy pants and glasses. Dean found it a little easier to breathe.

He started getting warm again when she sucked ketchup off her finger.

000

The lights were off and it had to be past three in the morning.

Katty didn't know what'd woken her up. She lay still for a few minutes, eyes open wide against the pillow and the pressing darkness, her heart pounding strangely hard, as though she'd been running.

For a minute, everything was fine.

Then the drumming started. It was in her head, banging and pounding, echoing over her whole body. Then there was something else inside her head, shrieking and whirring and screaming.

She curled up into a ball, arms over her head. Her skin was crawling, her heart pounding in her ears over the drums and shrieking.

It was more intense than pain and it was unbearable.

The drums grew slowly fainter, to be replaced by the sound of her own rapid, echoing heartbeats.

Her eyes were open wide, her chest was heaving with pants, and she was beyond terrified.

She could hear Dean and Sam's breathing, and that calmed her slightly, although she was near hysterics. She moved herself over under the covers and pressed her back to Sam's chest. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and focused on the warmth at her back.

000

Sam woke up to grey light and noticed, surprised in a groggy kind of way, that Katty was pressed against him. He stared, blinked, and then he noticed the trying tear tracks on her face, how she was curled up into a ball when she normally slept stretched out.

He hesitated, and then he put an arm around her, pulling her closer to him.

She made a quiet noise in her sleep.

"It's okay," he murmured, only half awake himself. "It's okay."

000

Dean woke them up fully a few hours later with two well aimed pillows. Sam blinked himself into wakefulness while Katty swore groggily, turning over and stretching under the covers.

"Douchebag," she said groggily.

"Yeah, well," said Dean, his face oddly tense. "While you two were cuddling… someone else died last night."

Sam sat upright and Katty flipped onto her back, both of them staring at Dean.

"Axe?" asked Sam. Dean nodded.

"When?" asked Katty, her face white and her voice cracking. Dean gave her an odd look.

Sometime after three."

Her eyes widened and she grew even paler.

"Kat?" asked Dean, stepping forward, his brow furrowing. "What's going on?"

"After three? You sure?"

"That's what the cops said."

Sam put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey, you okay?"

"I knew," she said quietly, her eyes almost perfectly round and looking very grey instead of their normal violent blue. "I felt- something. Last night. I woke up and-"

She swallowed. Dean leaned over the bed and grasped her shoulders.

"And what, kid?"

Her eyes were bright, wide, and scared, and her face was ashen. "I don't know," she said. "I don't know."

000

Sam and Katty got dressed and they went down to the ground floor, still crawling with cops and reporters. Dean, still wanted for murders he didn't commit, made himself scarce. Sam plastered on his best 'innocent' look and went to a female reporter while Katty approached Sawyer.

"Hey," said Sam to the reporter, his brow furrowing as he looked around him.

0

"What happened?" asked Katty, her eyes wide and concerned.

0

The reporter shrugged, her own expression perplexed as she looked up at Sam. "A boarder was killed last night."

0

"Who?" asked Katty. Sawyer pulled out a sign-in list.

"His name was James Edwards- he was supposed t' be checking out this morning." He was quiet for a minute and then looked up at Katty, his husky blue eyes torn. "He was nice, last night, when he checked in. A lot of people aren't."

0

"Do you know what happened?" Sam asked, his tone concerned, his eyes widened under furrowed brows.

The reporter was shaking her pretty head in disbelief, but not at his question. "Someone smashed the poor guy's head in with an axe. Can you believe it?"

"No," said Sam quietly. "I can't."

000

"Here," said Dean, nonchalantly tossing an EMF detector to Katty. She caught it and gave him an odd look.

"Dean, they want to question all of the boarders," said Sam as he walked into the room, slamming the door behind him, his young face drawn. Dean smirked, supremely untroubled.

"Figured they would. Checked out this morning and came in the back."

"Won't that be a little suspicious, you leaving first thing in the morning?"

"Good logic, kiddo, but no. Paid a hooker and got me an alibi." He winked. Katty shook her head with a grin.

"I wanna be just like you when I grow up."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and Sam watched, curious, his lips twitching slightly.

"Who doesn't?" he asked playfully, looking down at her, and Sam noted the way Dean's eyes went from Katty's eyes to her cleavage to her lips, and then how Dean licked his lips, just barely.

Sam raised a hand, now grinning broadly.

Dean had a crush.

Oh, this was gonna be good.

Dean rolled his eyes, letting his arm slide off of Katty's shoulder.

"Alright, enough talk. We got one seriously pissed-off dead chick to catch."

They started on the top floor- there were only three, and the top was empty. Most of the residents had checked out as soon as they had been questioned; murders a hundred years in the past were a novelty, but murders last night were just a little too real.

For the Winchesters, though, it was just a part of day-to-day life. Katty was still adjusting to it; ghosts, and even demons, were one thing. The loss of human life that could have been prevented if only she'd been able to read the signs was much more difficult to deal with.

"This is really creepy," said Katty conversationally as Dean opened a door to the second room.

"This is nothing."

That floor was clean, until the very last room; the room Lizzie had slept in as a child.

All three EMFs went insane. The trio looked down, Katty in the middle, all their eyebrows raised.

"Well, then," said Katty.

000

"Seems pretty straightforward to me, guys," said Dean, shutting the door to their room behind him. "Find her body, salt it," he shrugged, "and burn it. Got an easy one. Again."

"We should do a little more research on Lizzie herself before we start burning," said Sam, sitting on the bed and pulling off one of his shoes.

"Yeah, you sure it's Lizzie?" called Katty from the bathroom, where she was peeling off her T-shirt with the door open. Dean glanced at her, looked away, realized what he'd seen, and did a double take so fast he almost threw out his back.

"You a stripper now?"

"Sweetie, I've seen you naked and I've shared a bed with Sam for the past two weeks," she said, pulling a tank top on over her pale, slightly chubby torso. "Think we passed the modesty line a while back."

Dean and Sam exchanged a looked before shrugging and continuing the conversation. It wasn't as though they'd never seen a naked girl before, after all.

"Sure seems like it's her."

"I don't know," said Katty, now pulling her hair back into a French braid. "What I felt last night- I mean, it was really freaking bizarre. It's happened to me a few times before, but it's still weird, and I just don't think a spirit would do that."

"You think there's a demon involved," said Dean. It wasn't a question. Katty nodded, an odd look on her face, as she walked out of the bathroom and pulled a plaid button up on over the tank top.

"Like, the demon?" asked Sam, sitting up a little bit straighter. Katty hesitated.

"Yeah," she said, drawing out the word a little bit. "Guys- there's something you should-"

But before she could finish there was a knock on the door. Sam and Dean exchanged a wide-eyed, furrowed-brow look and then Dean dived into the bathroom, pulling the door half-shut.

Katty opened the door and Sam saw Sawyer, his hands shoved into his pockets, grinning down at Katty. Katty turned around (blushing, Sam noted with some surprise) and gave him a smile while Sawyer waved at him, somewhat awkwardly. She then turned back around and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her. Sam stared. Dean stuck his head out of the bathroom.

"What happened? Who was it?"

Sam turned to him, the same shocked expression still on his face.

"I think Katty has a date."

Dean's brow furrowed deeply. "What? Katty? A date?"

Sam nodded and Dean took a step out of the bathroom.

"Are we talking about the same girl here, Sam? Short, blue eyes, huge boobs," Dean cupped his hands in front of his own chest, "belches like a man, wears pants with cakes on them? That girl- has a date?"

There was a pause.

"With who?" asked Dean indignantly.

000

Sam knew his brother. Knew him so well it was almost scary- he knew when Dean was hungry, when he was sad, when he wanted to watch a movie, when he was horny, and he knew when his brother had a crush.

He would never, never admit it, Sam knew that too. But Sam knew the signs. Dean would get protective, deny he was being protective, get more protective, get territorial, and he would start to grin. A lot.

Dean had a crush, and it was on a seventeen year old. The kind of girls he normally liked could have been on magazines; Katty was short, a little chubby, and like no girl they'd ever met before.

Oh yeah. This was gonna be good.

000

"This is retarded, Dean," snapped Sam as they sat in the Impala, staring into the IHOP in which the somewhat mismatched couple were now seated.

"No, it's not," said Dean gruffly, not taking his eyes off of the laughing pair. "He's older, and she's young and- naive."

Sam raised an eyebrow, glanced at Katty, who was now balancing a spoon on her nose, and back at his brother.

"Are we talking about the same girl here, Dean? Cause I'm pretty sure that girl- even if she might have problems with demons- can handle some guy."

Dean gave a noncommittal grunt without taking his eyes away from the pair. Sam scoffed quietly, rolling his eyes, looking between Katty and Sawyer and his brother.

"Dean, what's this really about? Cause- I don't think it's about not being able to protect herself, since you've been the one saying sense we met her that she can."

"She can with supernatural stuff," said Dean stiffly. "Not- not guys."

"She's not thirteen, Dean."

There was a pause as Sam watched Dean and Dean's jaw clenched.

"Do you have a crush on her?"

Dean scoffed, looking away from the restaurant for the first time. "That's- that's retarded, Sammy, of course I don't have a crush on her-"

But the knowing and smug look in Sam's eyes quelled Dean's protests.

"You do!" crowed Sam triumphantly, cackling a little. "You do have a crush on her!"

"Shut up," growled Dean, barely moving his lips and not making eye contact.

"She's not gonna hear you, Dean," sniggered Sam. "Oh, hell, this is fantastic-"

"How the hell is this fantastic, Sam? She's leaving in a month- you're the one who's been harping that she's seventeen- chances are, once we drop her off at the end of the summer, we'll forget about her and things'll go back to the way they were. The way they should be."

"Do you really think that?" asked Sam, his voice quiet but skeptic. "Cause I don't."

Dean said nothing but his jaw ground.

"Dude, just go in there and-"

"Now way, Sammy. It's just a crush, it'll ride it's course, I just need to get laid, that's all."

"Seriously?" said Sam, ignoring the last half of this statement. "You're nervous? Dean Winchester- is scared to tell a seventeen year-old how he feels?"

"I don't normally feel anything, Sam, and that's what scares the hell outta me. Normally it's just sex, but with her- I wanna, you know, spend time with her," Dean said, looking as though the words surprised even him. "Talk to her."

Sam was grinning very widely now. "Oh, you've got it bad.:

Dean gave him a quick, glowering glance.

"Barging in on her date isn't going to do any good, Sam."

"Maybe not," said Sam with a shrug and a grin, before opening the door and sliding out. Dean, more than a little panicked, followed.

"Sam!"

But his big little brother was already almost at the door, his hands shoved carelessly into his pockets.

"Sam!" hissed Dean, but Sam, still soundly ignoring him, pushed open the doors and strode in. Dean, after fiercely muttering a few choice words, followed.

Katty looked up as they approached, her smile first freezing in surprise and then widening.

"Hey," said Sam, giving an easy wave to the two of them. Dean gave a terse smile before shooting a 'you are seriously going to pay for this later' look at Sam, who just glanced at him, clearly unaffected.

"Hi," said Katty, drawing out the word, pleased but also a little confused. Sawyer looked from Katty to the casual Sam to the unhappy Dean and back, smiling slightly.

"We saw you two and thought we'd say hey," said Sam, still smiling carelessly. Dean was staring in a determined sort of way at the floor. Katty nodded slowly, confused but smiling indulgently.

"Dean needs to tell you something," said Sam to Katty with a careless gesture, his voice light. Dean now shot him a 'your death will be slow and painful' look. Sam just looked iughly amused.

Katty looked to Sawyer, who just shrugged; he, too, looked more amused than anything.

"I'll be right here," he said, and Katty rose to her feet, looking expectantly (and a little nervously?) at Dean. He gestured loosely to the door, swearing violently at Sam in his mind.

"Let's go-outside."

She nodded and followed him wordlessly. Once she passed him, he turned and made a series of violent motions at Sam, including slashing a finger across his throat and pointing at his brother, but Sam just waved cheerfully back at him.

Stupid tall interfering son of a bitch-

Katty stood on the sidewalk and looked up at him, her blue eyes patient and searching.

"I- um-"

Damn you, Sammy.

"I-"

"Spit it out," she said with a grin. Dean swallowed and looked at her, his mouth slightly open. He'd never- not since he was thirteen anyway- had problems talking to girls. Why this one? She wasn't as pretty as the girls he normally hooked up with.

Because, said the voice in his head that sounded annoyingly like Sam, she's the only one who's more than just a pretty face and a sexy body.

"I just- just wanted to-"

She was still looking at him with that knowing, bright gaze, and now one of her eyebrows was quirking up.

"-to warn- you," he finished, somewhat hopefully. Both of her eyebrows were raised. "About that guy."

"Sawyer?"

"Yeah," he said, picking up steam now that he'd found a way out of this embarrassing situation. "I mean, he's, what, twenty-five? And he's on a date with a seventeen year old? Isn't that kind of… creepy?"

"My ID says I'm twenty one, remember?"

Dean was momentarily lost for words and just stared at her.

"Oh. Yeah."

She looked at him for another long moment and when he'd made no attempt to continue the conversation, she said, "So… am I sufficiently warned now?"

Dean gave her a very forced smile. "Yeah. Oh yeah. Yeah, you're good. Just wanted to- you know- keep you safe."

She gave him a smile and walked past him, patting him on the arm as she brushed past him.

000

The Winchesters drove back in the direction of the motel, both of them quiet, although for different reasons. Dean dropped Sam off at a local library to double check their history before they started digging up graves, and Dean went back to the motel and brooded.

Katty arrived 'home' (it was sad, Dean thought, thinking of motel rooms as home) before Sam. Dean lying on his bed and reading on of her books, looked up as the door clicked shut. She was smiling but there was something pensive in her face too. Dean watched her approach and then she collapsed onto the bed next to him with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling.

There was a pause as Dean looked at her and she looked at the ceiling.

"So?" asked Dean, after a few moments of this. Katty didn't look away from the ceiling; Dean, personally, didn't see what was so interesting about it. "How did it go?"

"He's perfect," she said simply, but her tone wasn't happy. Merely observatory.

"He's- what?"

"Perfect," she said, looking at him for the first time. "And I mean that in the most realistic sense. He is my dream man."

Dean's chest felt oddly tight. He raised his eyebrows, his face becoming a mask. "Oh."

"Yeah," she sighed. "It sucks."

Dean started, his brow now furrowing. "Yeah?" he asked. "How's that?"

She began listing. "He's funny, he's compassionate, her's kind, not only is her Christian but he's Orthodox, and seriously, I don't even know what the odds are of that- heck, he even looks like everything I want in a guy. But it's not gonna work."

"Somethin' pretty handy got invented back in the eighties, kiddo. I like to call it the Long-Distance-Relationship."

She snorted at that. " 'S'not the distance I'm worried about."

"What is it?"

She looked at him as though he'd asked something very stupid. "I'm going to be hunting," she said, slowly, as if speaking to someone with a low intelligence.

Dean, for a second, thought his heart had stopped beating.

"You're going to trade the guy who is practically your soul mate- to hunt?"

"He's not my soul mate," she corrected gently. "He's more like a- a fantasy come true. And yeah, I am."

She paused, looking at the ceiling again. "There is one thing, though. I want to kiss him before we leave."

"Do it, then," said Dean, trying to make his voice sound nonchalant.

Katty was now staring determinately at the ceiling. "There's- um- sort of a problem." She drew in a deep breath and said, very quickly, "I've never kissed anyone before."

Dean sat upright, brow very furrowed, and stared at her like she'd grown a second head. She met his gaze, her blue gaze clearly awkward.

He was on the verge of thinking of a reply that would have been, he was sure, tactful and witty when the door opened and Sam strode in.

"Alright," he said, plainly unperturbed by the sight of Katty and his brother on the bed. "I found out where Lizzie's buried, so as soon as the sun goes down, we can salt her, burn her, and get out of here."

000

Katty was in the bathroom and Dean was relaying, in a quiet voice, what she'd told him to Sam.

"She said- what?" asked Sam, his brow furrowing.

"She's a virgin, Sammy!" hissed Dean, looking furtively to the door. "And not just that, but she's never even kissed anyone before!"

"Holy…"

"I forgot virgins exist, Sam. I feel like I was talking to a unicorn!"

000

As they'd only been three again for two and a half weeks, there were two shovels, which meant a lot of trading. For the boys, it was nice. Digging up graves was not fun, and this meant they got to relax every now and then. Katty, however, was not exactly enjoying herself. She was sweaty, smelled like a sock that had been left in the locker room for too long, and had a crick in her neck. The Winchesters were completely unsympathetic.

They finished at two in the morning and Sam kicked in the coffin, revealing the decomposed corpse of Elizabeth Borden.

"Here," said Dean, handing Katty a can of salt. She tipped it over and coated the bones as Sam poured in lighter fluid, and then Dean dropped in a match and the skeleton erupted into flames, illuminated the silhouettes of the three hunters against the night.

From some distance away, a man watched them, standing next to a tree. He was middle-aged, but not unattractive. His face was made of hard lines and there was a cleft in his chin; his hands were shoved into the pockets of a jacket that was entirely unnecessary, due to the heat of the season.

He smiled and his eyes flashed yellow.

TBC...

"Hey Soul Sister," by Train.

A/N: Hey, guys! Well, here's a new chapter, obviously. Things are going to begin to pick up, plot wise, in the next chapter.

What will happen with Dean and his little crush? Hmm... guess we'll have to find out! Please review!

Love,

K.