Kat always enjoyed getting up the morning after a case. Something about risking her life made waking up that much sweeter. The shining sun didn't bother her. The motel sheets seemed a little less uncomfortable. The air seemed crisper purely for the reason that she was alive to feel it. Her body still ached from the fight, but it was a good ache, the kind she might have after a good workout. It meant that she'd done something productive, done something good, even if her muscles were paying the price.

These were the things she always took time to appreciate after finishing a hunt. Right up until there was a knock on her door.

She peered through the peephole, recognizing the mop of brown hair and leaning against the door in defeat.

"Sam, if you're here to tell me there's another body, you can just leave now."

"Nope. No body."

Reassured by the positivity in his voice, she opened the door just a crack. He wasn't wearing his FBI suit. It was just another flannel day. He was smiling, and had his hands behind his back. Kat raised a curious eyebrow.

"Okay…bagel?"

"No body. No bagel."

"Oh. Well then, you can still leave now."

"Seriously?" Sam laughed. "Kat, I bought you breakfast like five times this week."

"And? I didn't ask you to do that."

"No, I know. Just…you're starting to sound a little spoiled."

Kat narrowed her eyes at his smirk, and opened the door a little wider.

"I'm sorry, did you want to have the shit kicked out of you before noon?"

"I changed my mind."

"Yeah. Good choice."

"No, I changed my mind about yesterday." Sam tucked his hands in his pockets, wearing a very self-satisfied smile. It almost made him look like his brother. "I was thinking about what you were saying, about how you owe me for saving your life. I know I said you could get me next time, but I decided I wanna collect. Now."

A pang of panic instantly shot through her chest. Rational thought told her that anything Sam wanted from her wouldn't be harmful, but rational thought couldn't find any room in her brain. Her hand tightened on the door frame, her body tense.

"What do you mean?"

"Dean called," said Sam, oblivious to her reaction. "He's taking the morning with Jamie, and then he's gonna wrap up all the questions at the sheriff station. That means I get the morning off, and I decided I want to go to the movies. You're coming with me."

"No." The panic subsided, and she scrunched up her nose in distaste. "Why?"

"Cause sometimes it's nice to have company. And because you owe me."

Kat glared at him. Unfortunately, it did not have its usual effect of making him crumble. He'd clearly planned for her reaction, and stood tall and steady, smiling confidently and waiting for her to fold.

She could have kicked herself. But she grabbed her jacket.

"You're paying," she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and joining him in the hallway.

"Um, no?"

"Sam." She stared blankly at him until he sighed. "You are paying."

"Fine. Take what I can get, I guess."

She shoved him for that, but followed him down to the Impala. Kat slid into the passenger side, turning in her seat so she could lean her back against the door. There was plenty of room for her to spread out, probably enough for her to kick her legs up while Sam was driving. She had to admit, the car was growing on her.

"What do you wanna see so bad anyway?" she asked as they pulled out of the parking lot.

Sam didn't answer with words. But it was easy to guess from the smirk on his face.

"Oh, come on," she groaned. "Seriously?"

"It's a classic, and you've never seen it."

"And I don't want to! Dracula kicked my ass and held me hostage yesterday. Why the hell would I want to see more of him?"

"It's not real," he offered, making Kat roll her eyes. "Besides, he might have locked you up, but you were the one who kicked ass."

"Yeah, after Lucy chased me round the dungeon with a chain."

Her head ached from the memory, and she had to resist the urge to go poking at her scalp again. She'd already reopened it once in her sleep, and she'd already spent enough time arranging her hair into a ponytail that could cover the wound.

"How are you feeling?" Sam asked, glancing over at her.

"If I say I feel faint do I get to skip the movie? Or do you need someone to hold your hand while the fake vampires are on screen?"

"I don't need you to watch the movie with me," he said with a snort. "But uh…I kinda can't go back to the movie theater by myself."

"Why not?"

"Well, I went to go talk to Ed last night and uh…it didn't go too well."

"What the hell did you do?"

"I sort of…attacked him, I guess. Which was kind of awkward since he turned out not to be the shifter after all."

"Oh my God, Sam." Kat shook her head in exasperation. "You just went in guns blazing and tried to kill the guy?"

"We thought he was a shifter!"

"We thought he could be the shifter! You don't kill someone before you know for sure, idiot!"

"I didn't kill him. I just roughed him up a little bit. When his ear didn't rip off, I backed off."

"Oh, great. So you assaulted him and then apologized for the mistake."

"Well how did you test Lucy?"

"I took a picture, dumbass. Said Jamie wanted proof that her friend was okay, and then took out my phone."

"That…" Sam paused, impressed. "That's actually really smart."

"You told me their eyes shine on screen," Kat said with a shrug. "Not all of us are complete idiots."

"Yeah, I know," Sam chuckled. "I think at this point if I walked into the theater alone, Ed would probably bolt through the back door. Or call the cops."

"Sam," she said, very seriously. "We are the cops."

"The real cops, Kat. You know, the ones who could find out that we're not actually feds? I don't think tearing the ears off suspects is considered general protocol."

"So? Just pull rank on them and have them take it up with Bobby." Kat shrugged, and fought back a smirk. "God, you just leapt in and tried to pull his ear off? Idiot!"

"Shut up."

"No, really. I wish I could have seen that."

"Yeah, well, it wasn't as funny as seeing Kat the Bar Wench fight Dracula in stilettos."

That quickly shut her up.

Funny as the situation might have sounded, Sam was right to bring Kat to the movies. Ed was sweeping in the lobby when they arrived, and scampered fast when he spotted them. He ran into a door on his way out, and knocked over a garbage can. However, that must have been fairly normal behavior for Ed, since none of the other employees seemed to pay him much mind. So Sam purchased their tickets as if nothing was wrong, and they headed into the theater.

The movie itself was, in Kat's opinion, nothing spectacular. She knew that it wouldn't be. She could understand it for what it was, appreciate it for a good story or good film or whatever the hell it was supposed to be. But horror and monster movies had never been her thing, even before she was a hunter. And now that she knew about things that bumped in the night, she did her best to avoid them in every aspect of her life. She dealt with enough crazy shit without having to pay to watch it with popcorn.

But there was an added bonus that she hadn't expected. Knowing the truth about vampires, knowing what they were really like and what they really did and how they really lived, made the movie that much more ridiculous. On her own, it would have been another reason to pick up and move on before the movie was over. But now she had Sam sitting next to her.

He giggled maniacally at the effects, and grinned at all the stupid ideas part that talked about garlic and mirrors. At some points, his face was actually hidden in his hands to stop the laughter.

Kat was sure he was hamming it up. There was no way it was that funny, even if it was ridiculously inaccurate. But whether his reaction was genuine or not, it made Kat laugh too. Sam's giggles would draw stares, and she'd have to hit him to shut up. He would make some stupid comment about the characters and Kat would have to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from bursting out. It was ridiculous and annoying. And it was fun.

"The movie's not supposed to be realistic," Sam defended as they walked back to the town square. They'd stopped at a food stand on the way, and were splitting another giant pretzel between the two of them. Sam withheld a bite from Kat, forcing her to look at him. "It's a drama. It's not real."

"But vampires are real," said Kat, snatching the pretzel from him. "And that's not what they're like."

"So? Human mutations are real too. Isn't stopping anyone from watching The Final Stand."

"What's that?"

"Um…the last X-Men movie?" Sam cocked an eyebrow, looking at her strangely. But Kat simply shook her head. "Have you never seen any of the X-Men movies?"

"Nope."

"…For real?"

"Movies aren't my thing," she said with a shrug. "Actually, I can't remember the last time I went to see something in theaters."

"Wow. What do you do?" She glared at him, and he immediately held up his hands. "No, seriously. What do you do when you're not at work? For fun?"

"For fun?" Kat bit her lip, racking her brains for something interesting to say. She didn't come up with much. "I don't know. I hunt, I run. Watch crime shows with my mom."

"That I know," he laughed. "God, she still watches all of that? I remember the first time I came over, and the moment she found out I was pre-law she just went off talking Law and Order. The whole dinner."

"Parental hazing," Kat said with a grin. "But you held up pretty well, if I remember."

"Yeah, well." Sam shrugged sheepishly. "Like you said. Hotel television."

"It's all she watches," said Kat, rolling her eyes. "Which is probably why she's so paranoid."

"I don't think she's paranoid. She's just worried."

"She doesn't have to. I'm fine."

Sam gave her a doubtful look, which Kat ignored. She didn't want to get into that conversation at the moment—what she did, how often she risked her life, how Sam and her mother kept ganging up on her to prove her wrong. Not the kind of subject that would keep her in a good mood.

"So what do you do?" she asked instead. "You and Dean, when you're not hunting."

"Um, anything really. We go to the movies a lot, bars if we need some cash. Sometimes we'll go to concerts, drive for festivals, tourist traps."

"So you two are just a regular American road trip, huh?"

"Totally," he said with a laugh. "I mean, it's not like every weekend's a theme park. If we don't have anywhere to go, sometimes we just end up parking the Impala in a field with a few beers, hanging out and sleeping there. But uh…I guess when you spend most days hunting, you learn to appreciate the downtime."

"Downtime," she said wistfully. "I can't even remember the last time I had downtime."

"Well…maybe that's part of the problem."

"Excuse me?" Kat glared at him without her normal conviction. "You saying I've got a problem, Winchester?"

"I'm just saying you're kinda intense," he said. "Just something to think about."

Kat did think about it, for the rest of their walk. She listened as Sam talked about the various adventures he'd taken with Dean—sneaking into concerts, going to car shows, even the one time he'd dragged Dean through a free museum. She had little to nothing to contribute to the conversation, but neither of them minded. Sam got to talk and talk, and Kat simply got to laugh. A weird feeling around Sam Winchester, but a good one.

Dean was waiting for them when they got to town square. Or maybe waiting wasn't a good word, as he was still keeping himself occupied with Jamie. The two of them were still proudly sucking face outside of the bar. Kat wondered mildly how they'd managed to break themselves apart long enough to walk here.

Sam cleared his throat as they walked up, making Dean resurface for a brief moment to glance behind him. He leaned down for one last kiss, and then backed away to join them. Jamie waved at the three of them, and then disappeared into the bar.

"Good night?" asked Sam.

"Great night." Dean started a low whistle, but it petered off at Kat's look. "I mean, everything was fine and uh…Jamie will be safe and prepared for the future."

"Right," Kat snorted. She looked back at the bar, pouting thoughtfully. "You know? I liked her."

"Really?" asked Dean.

"Yeah. She was smart, funny, kinda kick ass. She's got low standards, but hey. Happens to the best of us."

"Ha ha. Very funny." They headed off towards the Impala, and Dean nudged Sam with his elbow. "See? Doesn't it feel good to get back on the job? Hero gets the girl, monster gets the gank—all in all, happy ending. With a happy ending, no less."

Kat did gag this time, and Sam chuckled.

"Really classy, Dean."

"Hey, don't hate the player, hate the game."

"Yeah," said Kat, pulling out her phone. "That's definitely my cue to leave."

"What? No," said Sam. He looked vaguely panicked. "Please, Kat. I promise he shuts up sometimes."

"No, you're right. I'm sorry," said Dean, shaking his head. "You played wingman, and I don't talk about it. That was the deal. My bad."

"It's not you two," said Kat. She held up her phone. "I called a cab. I've got a flight to catch."

"Already?"

Sam could hear the blatant disappointment in his voice. He'd been having fun for a change, with Kat for a change. Not just another day of laughing with Dean when they both knew they were still mad at each other. There was still tension with Kat, the pain was still there, but it was so relieving to talk to someone else for a change. It felt free.

She smirked, and he had a feeling she could guess all of the thoughts in his head.

"Yeah, well some of us have real jobs to get back to. And need medical attention. Not that this hasn't been a total blast, but uh…I don't want to be here."

"Hey, at least let us drive you to the airport," offered Dean. "Least we can do."

"I appreciate it, but I'm good. Cab's gonna be here in a minute, so I just have to pick up my stuff from the hotel. Besides, I don't want to get into the middle of this brother-dynamic you guys have going on. You two do your thing. American road trip."

Kat winked at him, and Sam forced himself to smile.

"Well…thanks for coming out, Kat. I know you didn't want to, but we really appreciate the help."

"Yeah, nice to have back up," added Dean. "Looks like you survived your first Winchester hunt."

"Yeah, well next time, if there's costumes involved? Don't call me."

They all stood there, waiting on something more than the cab. Sam shot Dean a furtive look, which Dean ignored until he was elbowed in the ribs.

"Ah—and thank you for…your help last night. You were right about the Wikipedia pages, you were right about Lucy and uh…you did sorta…help me out with the shifter, right at the end there, so…" He glanced over at Sam, who was still staring at him. "And uh…I'm sorry for being on your case the whole time. You know, I know I can be 'annoying' or whatever so…thanks for putting up with me, I guess."

He rolled his eyes, and Kat chuckled.

"Save it, Dean. I don't need you to apologize."

"You, uh…you don't?"

"I'm sure genuine Dean Winchester apologies are few and far between. I'd hate to have a counterfeit. Besides, I'm not sorry for calling you a manwhore, so let's just leave it at that."

Sam deflated, wiping a hand down his face. Dean, on the other hand, cracked a smile.

"Alright, then. Sounds good to me." He offered her a hand, and shook it with a wink. "Take care of yourself, Kit Kat."

"Yeah. Don't call me that."

"Tinkerbell it is then."

She flipped him off, and turned back to Sam. "This time I'm not killing him for free. But next time, you owe me."

"Understood."

He hesitated for a moment, but after a week of saying goodbye to her, Sam decided he was done waiting. He stepped forward, pulling her into a light hug that she broke almost immediately. He held his breath, but was relieved to see that she was still smiling. Still, she leaned up, smacking him lightly on the face.

"Good talk. Well, try not to get yourself killed. And good luck with the Apocalypse."

Kat gave them both a small salute, and walked out of the courtyard.

"Jeez, finally," Dean sighed, earning himself a whack on the arm from Sam. "What?"

"Come on. She's not that bad."

"Alright, fine. I'll give you that," Dean conceded. "She's uptight, and she's definitely a bitch, but still. Not bad."

"See? Backup is good."

"Okay, well let's not take it too far. We still had to go charging in after her ass when she got kidnapped." Dean held his hand out for the keys to the Impala, and they started their walk back to the parking lot. "You seem pretty down in the dumps about her leaving though. You need to cry for a little bit, or are you good?"

"Shut up." Sam laughed, shaking his head a bit. But the weight was still in his chest. "It's just nice, you know? To talk to her. Makes me feel like maybe, if I keep trying, there might be a way to make up for all the awful shit I've done."

"Mighty hopeful of you," said Dean. "Been a while since you sounded that optimistic. You two have a great night too?"

"No," said Sam pointedly. "We just finally got a chance to talk this morning, and…you know. It felt good."

"So your date went well."

"It wasn't a date, Dean."

"You pay for it?" He watched Sam carefully, and shrugged when he remained silent. "Yeah. Then that's a date."

"You only say that because you don't have any actual friends."

"Hey, I have tons of friends, alright? I have so many friends, you wouldn't even believe it."

"Yeah, you're right. I wouldn't."

"Shut the hell up, man."

They finally got back to the car, Dean taking his seat behind the wheel as Sam slid in the other side. He leaned back, waiting for Dean to kick the engine, to pump the stereo and peel off. But he didn't. Sam looked over and found Dean watching him expectantly.

"What?"

"Well? Did you tell her?"

Sam deflated. No, he hadn't told her. And if he was being honest, he wasn't sure if he'd ever really tried.

He'd had a plan when he woke up in the morning. He wanted to repair his relationship with Kat, obviously. But he couldn't do that while he was still lying to her. There was something in his chest pushing him to tell her about the demon blood, the full extent of his powers. He wasn't sure if she'd understand, or if it would just wedge them farther apart when she found out he was using the gifts that had gotten her sister killed. But he had been using them to help people, trying to make good from the curse that had taken so many things in his life. He thought that maybe if he could make Kat understand that, he could move forward a little faster.

But he hadn't been able to. They'd gotten to the movie, and she'd laughed and hit him just like she would have years before when the three of them were watching movies in the living room. He couldn't jeopardize a moment like that with the truth. He didn't want to.

Dean seemed to guess what had happened without an answer.

"Sorry, man," he sighed, staring out the window. "Maybe you can get her next time."

"Yeah. Next time."

Dean looked over at him, frowning.

"You don't have to tell her, you know. I know that you feel bad and all that shit, but she's not wrapped up in this crazyfest. You're not a bad person for trying to keep her on need to know."

"I know," said Sam, unconvinced. "But…I do have to tell her. I want to do this right."

"Alright. But next time you take a go at doing things right, wear a cup, huh?"

Sam snorted as Dean started up the Impala.

"Maybe the shifter had a point, you know?" he continued. "It would be nice if life was movie simple. No pressure, good lighting. Sure, some shit goes topside three quarters in, but it all gets fixed by the finale."

"Sounds good to me."

"Although, if I was turning life into a movie, I wouldn't do this 'Abbott and Costello Meet the Monster' crap."

"Yeah," said Sam, nodding. "No, I know what you'd pick."

"No, you don't," Dean laughed.

"Yeah, I do."

"No, you don't. You don't."

"Porky's II."

"…What?"

"You heard me."

Dean froze, turning to meet Sam's smug smile with surprise. He pouted, kicking the Impala into gear.

"Lucky guess." Sam laughed, and Dean brandished a finger at him. "Yeah, laugh it up, Gigantor. Like you wouldn't choose some lame ass romcom so you could patch things up with Barbie doll back there. I'll tell you what you should pick—some kinda Animal Planet documentary. That way you can finally get laid."

"Dean."

"No, for real. That's why you're so damn uptight. Both of you. I'm just trying to help you out."

"Can you just help out by driving?" asked Sam, shaking his head. "I'm starving."

"Sure you ain't thirsty?" Sam glared at him, and Dean held up a hand. "Alright, done. Lunch it is."