Cut to Callie huddled in an alleyway at a ridiculous hour of night or early morning. Whenever Callie in her later years would think of London, she would think not of Big Ben or red double decker buses, she would think of alleyways.

"Is this going to take long?" Callie nervously kept a lookout for Wellenby/Jack/whatever his name was.

"Not at all" Dean replied. He pulled a key out of his pocket and opened the door. "Ladies first" he said with a sweep of his hand.

Being back inside the "Jack the Ripper Ghost Tour & Museum" was not exactly where Callie wanted to be right now. She wanted to be safely tucked up in bed. She wished she'd never set eyes on the Winchester brothers, especially after nearly being added to the list of the Ripper's victims. Life would have been so much simpler if she'd never gone to the pub with Jim. Although life would have been much less exciting- and attractive- if she hadn't.

"Hold up, where exactly did you get the key from? I'm simultaneously horrified and impressed" Callie asked.

Sam looked a bit sheepish. "Remember how we met here? You were at the counter and we stumbled out of the back room? We stole a key when we were there"

"Never know when a key can come in handy" Dean smiled.

"Wow, are you sure you two weren't Scouts? You know, 'be prepared' and all" Callie smiled back.

"Never joined. I don't do shorts" Dean replied seriously.

The museum was even creepier at night. They made their way into the main room. The knife had pride of place in the room. Callie vaguely recalled it from her first visit but she'd mainly been taken with reading the walls crammed with information. It hadn't seemed anything special then, nor now. It was a rusty looking thing.

"You do it" Dean ordered to Sam.

Sam looked grossed out. "No, you do it"

"I'm the older brother"

"Yeah, like that's my fault?"

"I told you to do it"

"And I'm telling you no" Sam replied fiercely.

"Woah, what's going on?" Callie intervened.

Sam sighed, responding to a threatening look from Dean. "Fine, I'll do it" He raised the knife to his mouth and stuck out the tiniest portion of his tongue. It made contact with the knife. Callie, not to mention Dean, went "eww". Sam drew the knife away quickly. "Ugh, yep, it's blood"

"You licked the knife to see if there was blood on it?" Callie asked, looking horrified at Sam.

"Well it's not like we can just send it off to a lab for them to 'CSI' it for us" Dean responded.

"So if we're right, this knife is part of his earthly remains, his blood is on this from the last attack when Mary Kelly fought back and clearly wounded him. And now we burn it. And he's gone for good. Hopefully" Sam added, sounding extremely hopeful himself.


"Ok, this is starting to become scarily familiar" Callie noted, hands on her hips, as they all stood around watching a fire.

Sam had put together a makeshift furnace in a trashcan and the knife was safely ensconced inside. Sparks crackled as the knife slowly began to heat up and the air was tinged with the coppery smell of blood.

She sat down on the ground, not caring what she looked like, suddenly tired as the events of the day caught up with her. She gingerly pressed her stomach, trying to get a sense of how badly she was hurt.

Dean glanced at her briefly, not wanting to take his eyes off the knife for too long. "How you holding up there, skipper?"

She smiled at his odd choice of nickname and nodded. "I'm fine. I just really want this night to be over"

"Yeah, you and me both"

"How do you do this all the time? All this running around and shooting at things that most people don't even think exist" she asked.

"Well it not always shooting, sometimes there are knives" Dean replied. "And even once or twice, a crossbow. Which was awesome"

Sam used a stick to poke the remnants of the fire to try and hurry the knife up in melting. The knife was at least glowing but it clearly was going to take some time.

Abruptly the trashcan tipped over. Nobody had been standing particularly close enough to have moved it.

"Callie!" Sam's voice was urgent.

She didn't need to be told twice. She moved quickly to her feet but as she tried to get to him, something was in her way that she knocked into. She scrambled backwards, trying to get out of reach of what she knew was Jack. Both Dean and Sam had their guns pulled out, ready to fire, but were unable to for fear of hitting Callie in the tight space of the alley. She reversed slowly until she could feel the wall against her back. At least that was one less angle he could grab her from. Her senses strained to feel for the slightest inkling that Jack was near her.

The overturned trashcan scraped slightly on the ground. All eyes flew to it. The knife slowly moved out of the bin as if under its own steam. Then suddenly it flew in the air to a point about ten metres from Callie. It hovered in the air. Callie didn't even have time to blink before Jack materialised. He now had two knives in his hands, one was the small scalpel that they'd been trying to destroy and the other was a wicked looking blade. The word 'machete' sprung to mind.

"And now he has two knives" Dean muttered reproachfully, as if this whole knife burning expedition hadn't been his own idea.

Now that they could see where Jack was, they opened fire. The rock salt shot met with resistance but slowly Jack kept coming. Callie ran behind the boys. Jack threw the scalpel down like a petulant child and disappeared.


They remained alert for a full minute before letting their guard down.

"This, quite frankly, is getting ridiculous" Callie announced.

"You're telling me" Dean joked.

"Come on, we should get Callie out of here" Sam said, beginning to walk back the way they'd come.

"Sam, the thing's so full of rock salt, he should quite literally keel over and die. Well, re-die." Dean quipped.

Callie managed a weak laugh. "Yeah, we could just wring him out over our chips and they'd be nicely salted"

"Whatever, let's just go" Sam walked briskly out of the alley.

"He always gets a little PMS-y when we're smack bang in the middle of a case" Dean confided. He looked at her again, more carefully this time.

Callie raised her hands in protest. "If you ask me one more time if I'm ok, I'll take that gun and shoot you myself"

Dean smiled. "Then I know you're alright"

The car wasn't parked too far away. Callie was on edge. Every noise made her jump. She'd almost died of fright when an ordinary man had appeared from around a corner walking home after a night on the town.

Dean and Callie approached the car which Sam was leaning on. He didn't meet her eye as she stood next to him waiting for Dean to unlock the car doors.


The car's engine lulled Callie to sleep. She sat up startled as the car came to a stop. She didn't know how long she'd been asleep. She peered out the window into the darkness. They weren't at Jim's place. They were outside a small motel that seemed too quiet and poky to be in London.

"Where are we?" She'd forgotten that she'd only known the Winchesters for a few days and that they practically were strangers. This turn of events had made her wary again.

"We're at our motel. We were talking in the car about how you should stay with us for the night, until we can work out how to get rid of Jack" Dean said. From his tone of voice, it was clear that this wasn't a topic for discussion, this was an order. He was simply doing her a courtesy by telling her what was happening. He then smiled, lightening the mood. "We didn't realise you were asleep. When you didn't say anything, we thought you were just accepting it all with a martyr's silence"

"I literally can not stay here with you. My brother will freak." She felt her voice raise in a tone close to panic. They didn't know how protective her brother was of her. And although she was sure that the boys could keep her safe, she just wanted to go home.

Their faces were stony sure.

"Lookit, I mean, you're brothers, right? If one of you didn't come back, the other would start to worry, to think something might have gone wrong"

"Hell, no, I'd think Sam had gotten lucky for once in his short life" Dean laughed.

Sam glared at his brother.

She was losing them, this wasn't working. She decided to try another tact.

"If I don't come home tonight, well what's left of tonight, Jim will have half of the London police out looking for me. And he'll guess I'm with you. And I think the last thing you two want is for half of the boys in blue to be out looking not just for me, but for you"

"You can call him from the room" Dean said, getting ready to get out of the car and gesturing that she should do the same.

"And tell him what?!"

"That you met a guy" He paused. "That you met two guys, if you like"

Sam interrupted. "Dean, she's right. Anyway, there's not much of night to be had, only a couple of hours. And like you said, he's shot full of rock salt, he'll be weak"

Dean gave his brother a confused look before shrugging. "Fine, have it your way". He put the key back into the ignition.

"Hold on, I'm just going to grab something" Sam said, getting out of the car and heading over to their motel room.

Dean and Callie sat in the car. The silence lingered on and both were glad when they saw Sam reappearing from the room.

He got back in the car and turned to face Callie. He held out his hand to give her something. She couldn't quite see what it was but took it anyway. It was smooth and cool in her hand. Dean craned his neck to see what it was. She held it up for him. It was a bracelet made up of jet black stones.

Dean made an approving face. "Nice"

"Bobby gave it to me a couple of months back. It's obsidian," he explained to Callie, "it protects the wearer from spirit entities. I've seen the way he looks at you. He's missed you twice now, let's not make it third time lucky, ok?"

Sam's earnest speech rang in the silence in the car. Callie smiled at him and put the bracelet on, grateful that the dark hid her blush. Dean cleared his throat and started up the car. Then after a few seconds, turned on the radio. It was tuned to one of those classic rock stations. The familiar guitar anthems helped her to relax.

It seemed to take an age to reach Jim's place but it was probably only half an hour. Callie hesitated as she got out, wondering what to say as a goodbye. In the end she didn't say anything. There was nothing that needed to be said.