Ben wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to be passing as anyone of authority, being seventeen, but Amy seemed to be convinced that it was, and he quoted, "Peachy. People are idiots."

He agreed with the sentiment, but didn't quite think that most people, however idiotic, would buy a seventeen year old as a government official. So newspaper reporter, it was.

Amy had taken the bar, claiming that her boobs and legal drinking age would make it easy for her to get information out of the locals. She had then proceeded to swan off, ignoring Ben's protest. They'd meet up around ten, she'd said, and compile the information.

Ben gave the woman standing in front of him his innocent grin, the one that made him look so much younger and hopefully good at keeping secrets. "You said you heard about some strange activity in the abandoned houses," and he gestured vaguely down the street, to the beginning of a series of alleys. "Down there?"

The woman, who looked nothing so much as a feather, poofy hair and clothes and a poker straight spine, squinted her chocolate brown eyes at him. "Why'd you need to know, again?"

Time for the bull. "Because, Ma'am," flattery always sells, "it's of a big importance to the city, seeing it's resources are used properly. There's all this underdeveloped real estate that could be used to much greater potential. The paper thinks that with a bit of gentle prodding, the city may be able to improve itself immensely by righting this grievous issue."

One thing that always made people take you more seriously, Ben had found, was sounding like you ate dictionaries for breakfast, lunch, and dinner, as well as a thesaurus for your midnight snack. If you were that intelligent, you couldn't possibly be up to nefarious purposes.

God, now he was doing it in his own head. He'd been interviewing for too long.

The woman sighed, gave in to the power of the vernacular. "Some of the people in town... it's just weird. They stopped coming to work, walked out on spouses and children. Jesse said he saw some of them in the window of the largest house, on Sycamore." And she waved a hand down that alley. "It's the third turn off, then left, right, and right again." A smile, faker than Cheez Whiz. "Is that all?"

"That's enough, yes, thank you very much." Ben saluted the woman, and let her move along down the street. He let out a breath, felt the stale air rush out of him along with his newfound vocabulary. He made a face at the brick wall in front of him, tried out as many immature and unattractive ones he could muster up. He could just feel the maturity draining away, and it felt great.

He scrabbled in his pockets for a second, found his phone, dialled Amy. Her voicemail picked up pretty fast, spewing her usual rapid-fire lines at him. "It's Amy- shut it! No! Not you! Sorry! Okay, I am really- I said stay away from that! IN THE MIDDLE OF SOMETHING," a high pitched shriek, "Call me back later, wait up! and I'll call back if I'm not dead which isn't likely at the moment but-"

And a cutoff to a pleasant female "Leave your message after the tone!"

Ben allowed himself to laugh, knowing that Amy was likely fine. She'd recorded that, she told him, while on one of her first hunts with two other rookies. Something to do with a ghost. She'd survived, and got a fantastic voicemail message out of it.

"Hey, Amy," he said. "Finished up. Sounds like the largest house on Sycamore - I've got directions - has got some townspeople gone weird. Heading back to the motel. See you there."

Clicked it off. Settled back into his stride, shoving his hands deep in his pockets. It was still light out, barely, the golden orange sunset making the decrepit building look gilded with precious metals, shining like a castle's treasure room.

His legs moved automatically, faster than he was used to. All the running around and driving and exercises and sparring that this was putting him through was toning him, making Ben feel ridiculously strong. He felt like he could do anything, and it felt awesome.

We don't exercise, we exorcize, the voice said.

Amy's voicemail is the best. THE BEST.

Alrighty! Next chapter is posted tomorrow instead of on Tuesday because of my week off. DOn't get freaked out if I'm gone! I'll be back for next weekend.

One thing that I just wanted to say, though, is that I plan. I'm not writing as I go (well, sorta). For the big things, like who Amy is and what Amy is and Dean and Sam and Cas and everyone else and the cases and stuff, I've got a broad outline at the very least. I just wanted to point that out! If something's in here, either it's a) stylistic or funny or irrelevant or b) deeply plot related. There is a plot. Promise. :)

Have a great weekend, and I'll see you tomorrow!