Calliope watched the washer turn the clothes around in soapy water. Dean had his nose stuck so far into her book; he hadn't even noticed her take his things. Seeing as he had a new shirt, she thought he might appreciate his other things looking nice.

She hung the shirt up to dry. She could see Dean in her mind, enthrallingly turning the pages of Persuasion and she smiled at the sight of a hunter enjoying the romanticism that was Austen. She picked up Dean's brown jacket, hoping she could make it at least half decent looking. She started to spray it with stain remover, but thought that perhaps she should check the pockets to make sure they were empty.

In a few of the pockets she found odds and ends; a bit of frayed rope, a pebble and a length of eyelet lace. She set these aside, and then felt inside the secret pocket on the inside of the jacket, pulling out a thick piece of parchment that was folded several times. Curious, she unfolded it and looked it over, the creases in the parchment making it a bit difficult to decipher. She turned it around to what seemed right side up and then realized she was looking at a map.

The writing on the map was a different language, she didn't know which. She looked over the map until her eyes landed on a circled object that appeared up be a planet of some kind. The words above the object read something in Latin. She wondered if maybe this map was something important. She left her chore for a later hour and made her way inside the kitchen.

As she passed her father's study, map in hand, she stopped, debating whether or not to knock. They had been avoiding each other after an argument they had had days before. Calliope had confronted her disgruntled father about the gin, and he had exploded. She begged her father to give her the gin for "safe keeping", but he would have none of it. She wept as she told her father he would surely die unless he gave it all up, the opium too. But he had sent her away and had been in his study for days.

She kept walking and entered her room as Dean looked up from the book to see her. He gave her a wide grin and set the book down.

"'Hello," he said, proudly wearing his new shirt although he kept it unbuttoned, which made him strangely attractive to her. She had never been attracted to anything of the sort.

"I see you like my book." she said

"Yes," he answered, picking up the book again, "Never read anything quite like it, but I find it...beautiful."

"So do I. Wentworth is a lowly, poor sailor and Anne comes from a wealthy family, yet they still find a way to love each other, even despite being separated for years." she said, as she forgot about the folded map in her hands and sat down

"Do Anne and this Wentworth fellow end up together? That lady who makes her lie and say she doesn't want to be with him, does it end that way?" he asked, seriously concerned

"You'll have to read it all."

He sighed, and then noticed the map in Calliope's hand.

"What's that?" he asked, gesturing with his head

"Oh," she exclaimed, remembering. "Well, I had taken some of your apparel out to wash, and I found this in a pocket of your coat. It's a map of something."

She handed it over up him as he unfolded it and began to investigate. She watched him turn it over, a look of concentration on his face, his rough hands smoothing out the wrinkles. She remembered the first time they had met, two years before, how their hands had brushed against each other and how at the end of the night when they shook hands, she marveled at the feel of them. Dean stared the map intensely, turning it and tilting his head.

Dean nmumbled something slowly lowering the map from his face

"What is it?"

"I remember. I do. I remember everything. This map...this map is what caused all this." he said, staring off into a memory

Calliope's eyes widened as she shifted closer to him

"What happened, Dean?"

He turned and looked at her, his light green eyes ablaze with life and fire.

"Do you know what this is a map too?"

"All it said was something in Latin."

"This is a map to the supposed location of the demon I was hunting."

She looked at him for a moment, confused.

"A demon? So you really go on hunts?"

Dean gave her a smirk that made her heartbeat pound into her fingertips.

"I remember, stopping here with Sam, we were going to meet my childhood friend, Victor, who had also become a hunter. He was supposed to be our translater, considering this Latin is extremely old. I..I showed up and no one was there and I was completely unaware as I was attacked from the side." he said, his brow scrunched in remembrance.

"Who was it?" she asked, completely enthralled

"Victor," he growled with contempt. "I don't...really remember fighting off the guy, but I know it was him. I recall him yelling over and over, 'She was mine, you bastard!' And somehow he sliced me up good, but I got him too, as I was on the ground after he cut me, he told me to give him the map or he would kill me for it. I don't remember anything else other than stumbling around in the rain trying to find help."

Calliope shook her head in disbelief.

"Why did he attack you? I know you have the map, but..."

"He knew I had the map and he had been chasing and following me for months. He had always liked the girl I liked, even since we were kids, Abby."

As he said this, Dean's eyes lit magically.

"She was beautiful and he was madly in love with her, we both were."

"Abby, she was...she was...amazing," he said, his hands animated, "She had these blue eyes...We had come to the bar she worked at for a couple of drinks, and later that night as I was leaving I found a note on my napkin saying she wanted me to come to her hotel. I should never have gone, I was young and foolish."

"When I found her in her room, she was letting her hair down, taking off her stage makeup, and wearing nothing but her underwear. I remember her smiling and asking me to sit next to her."

Calliope was hanging onto every word; it was like a history lesson on the life of the infamous hunter from the hunter himself.

"She leaned in and kissed me and I thought I would die but I knew the right thing to do would be to leave. But when she whispered that I was the one she wanted, I forgot all about him, I couldn't help myself; the girl of my dreams wanted me. So I gave in, allowed myself to be the one to love her."

She knew her face was flush with embarrassment, but she continued to listen, fervently.

"Afterwards, we both fell asleep. That is the one time I remember being absolutely...happy." he said, his hands out in front of him, holding out the mental picture for both of them to see.

"Someone stormed into the room, and it woke us up. Victor had found out, somehow, where I was. He was furious, kicking and throwing things. He grabbed my gun and shot me in the leg. I remember Abby, crying and calling my name...so he shot her too."

Calliope had brought her hand to her mouth, shaking her head. Something like intense pain flashed across The Dean's face as he continued to relate the story.

"It all happened so quickly, there was nothing I could do. I limped over to the bed, I was screaming her name and he just looked at the gun in his hand in shock, and the cowardly bastard ran. She was already gone, I knew she was but I held her and cried out for help...held her even as people came, as the officials came, as your dad came. I just held onto her. She was the first and last woman I ever loved."

Calliope didn't know she was crying until she felt the wetness on her hand. Dean looked at her, a bit ashamed for making himself so vulnerable through telling the story. He cleared his throat and sat up a bit.

"Dean," she said, "I'm so sorry."

He shrugged his shoulders, pretending not to care.

"So, Victor attacked you because of Abby?"

"Yes, in a way. I had gotten the girl; I suppose he felt that I shouldn't have two treasures in a lifetime. He took the Colt, a gun that could kill anything. I hadn't seen him since that night, and I plan on never seeing him again."

He took the map, looked at it, determined.

"I'm gonna find him, and I'm gonna take it back. And I know he will be there, waiting, and I'll kill him." he sat there for a minute like that, and then an idea registered on his face

"Could I have a pen and paper?"

She nodded, gathered the thing and set them on the table. He looked at them for a moment, and then looked at her confused as to how he was going to write in the bed.

"On second thought, do you know how to write?"

"Of course."

"Good. Would you mind writing down what I say?"

"Not at all."

Dean cleared his throat as Calliope positioned the pen at the top of the paper.

"Bobby," he started "I have come to the conclusion that you are taking care of Sam."

Calliope suppressed a smile, as she scribbled it down in her lovely cursive.

"I don't have a clue as to where you and Sam are, but I would be much obliged if you would come back for me. I still have the map; Azazel and I fought; I, valiantly, was wounded and am at this moment being cared for by none other than Henry McKenna's daughter, Calliope, who saved my life."

She looked at him and he nodded to the parchment.

"That is why the handwriting is so...girly. Now, Bobby, I trust you miss me, so if you would kindly reply to the location noted as to where you are and when you're coming." "Would you read it back to me please?"

She did so, again trying not to giggle at his humorous remarks.

"Perfect, hand it here and I'll sign."

He took the pen in his hand and bent over, awkwardly, as he signed "Dean Winchester" beautifully at the bottom of the parchment. He folded it, and on the back wrote Bobby's address.

"There. If you wouldn't mind taking this to the post office I would appreciate it. It will find them, safely."

She nodded her head, gathered her things and made her way to the door.

"You're amazing, sweetheart," he said, mock saluting her

She smiled shyly, closing the door.