Review! It makes me happy. And happy writers update sooner. Oh! And yea…xxmaskedchickxx I thought you would appreciate the Bora Bora thing.

Kat walked out of the steaming bathroom dressed for bed and fully naïve to the emotions she had unleashed on the hunters. Sam was still sniffling and Dean had taken to staring at the edge of the bed, his eyes bleak and unseeing. She could practically feel the guilt and regret in the air around them and wished she had chosen a happier song to sing. One about unicorns. Sam might like that.

She glared at them, daring them to continue down the emotional road. Dean looked up at her, her eyes icy on him and he realized what they were doing to her. She'd silently dealt with any problem they had thrown at her. Any time they needed anything, she was there. It had to be wearing on her, being their pocket-sized therapist. So he pulled his mouth into a charming smirk and passed her her food.

"You're lucky you're getting that. The waitress was freakin' hot," he informed her, biting into his own burger. Sam looked up and glared at him, and took his salad from his hands. Dean always had to do that. Turn off any emotional moment with a witty remark. He knew he was trying to relieve the tension, but it made Sam rest easier if what he was feeling was in the open.

"Does that mean she turned you down?" Kat quipped back, trying to repress the feelings of unease. He could have gone if he'd wanted to. Did that mean he didn't want to? She knew he hadn't gotten any since she had joined them, and it must've been wearing on Dean, who slept around to relieve stress. So why hadn't he jumped at the opportunity? Why did she have to repress shivers of disgust, just thinking about him and a woman?

"Oh no. She was layin' it on pretty thick," he said smirking. The waitress had been blonde and fake and easy. Usually his type for a quickie. If you asked him right then, he wouldn't have been able to tell you why he hadn't responded. He didn't even have to try and control himself. There was nothing to control. He had felt nothing when she let her hands dance across his forearm. Had felt even less when she swayed her hips as she walked away. "I just wasn't in the mood." That was the only explanation he could think of anyway.

Hell had changed him, that much was for sure. He was rarely in the mood anymore, but the apocalypse on top of it? He felt like a monk and he didn't even care. It wasn't as if that part of himself had turned off. Mornings were enough to prove that. But he had chalked that up to being wrapped around a beautiful woman. Not that he felt anything other than animalistic attraction for her, and he wouldn't admit that much even if a gun was held to his head. No, he'd get over it.

His musings were cut off by Sam's snort. "You're always in the mood." His brother seemed to have forgotten that he had come back a changed man. That life meant something different and that he hadn't had sex in a month and counting. He didn't say anything back, just kept eating with that cocky smirk hovering over his features. He'd be damned if he gave his brother more to worry about. And not wanting sex would definitely worry Sam.

Kat dove into her bacon cheese burger like it was the elixir of life, and as far as she was concerned, it was. She ignored Dean's smirk and focused on her food and the research she had for the hunt. The job. The reason they were here. Not to muse over thoughts of Dean or singing in the shower.

"So I was thinking we should head over to the church tomorrow," she said, knowing that the Sunday service would be fairly crowded. "And maybe Dean should not talk."

"Why not?" he asked indignantly.

"Because you're patronizing when it comes to faith. You know half of this shit is true and you'd still offend people who believe," she said with such assurance that he believed her for a moment.

"Hey! I can be nice to the Jesus freaks!"

"No you can't," she said, looking him dead in the eyes. He knew she was right. But that wasn't just on the subject of faith. He was naturally socially awkward (except around women) and offended people in general. Whether they were into Jesus or not.

"Fine. You and Samantha can do the talking," he said, leaning back into his bed with a beer.

Kat giggled to herself and crawled onto the bed with Dean, ready to crash. She cuddled to Dean's side and closed her eyes, loving the electric feel of her skin when she touched him. He was a very good pillow, and an even better cuddler. Sometimes she would wake in the middle of the night, pressed against his chest, with his face buried into her neck. If she were being honest with herself, she would admit that it made her happy. But she wasn't, so she simple admitted that she dealt with it. Dean smirked as she cuddled to his side, leaving him enough room to drink and shift if he wanted to. He let his eyes flutter closed as she made small noises as she got comfortable. Slight whimpering came from her as she drifted off and both Dean and Sam admired her child-like qualities. They didn't understand how she could still be so gentle and sweet in this life. They had seen her when she showed no remorse, but they had also seen what was underneath it.

They could see the sweet girl she would have been, if Alistair had never dragged her into this life. They could see the strong woman she was because he did. Sam thought that she deserved so much more than this life; Dean thought that she was damn good at it. Neither would ever tell her how often they thought of her, because they were not only men, they were hunters. And hunters didn't do that sort of thing.

She drifted off quickly, letting Dean warm her as she slept. She would have to act tomorrow. Act like she had real faith. She knew God was real, had met him even, but her faith was thin and frail. God was real. But did he really give a damn about his people? If he did shouldn't he be more actively involved? If he cared shouldn't he be working tirelessly to fix this mess? If he really cared, would he have let her be tortured? Would he have let Sam die? Or Dean make the deal? Or let Dean suffer for decades in Hell?

She tried not to think about it, instead letting herself be consumed by sleep, where she didn't have to think about anything.

Sam leaned back onto his own bed, and sighed to himself. He hadn't had a nightmare in the month since Kat had joined them. He wasn't sure why, and didn't really care. All he knew was that he could dream with out fear of it morphing into a nightmare. He silently thanked whatever being had brought her to them. It made him happy.

Dean finished his beer and shimmied himself under the covers, immediately wrapping his arms around the small woman beside him.

The next morning Sam and Dean were in their suits. They felt the general uncomfortable stiffness that came with wearing one, but at least the both of them had a good nights sleep. Dean thought his jaw might have hit the floor when Kat walked out of the bathroom.

He hair was done up in a loose bun, some curls resting around her face. She had light eyeliner and a light pink gloss as her makeup, making her look respectable and beautiful. She wore a light blue blouse with long sleeves and a slight V-neck. That was covered with a sliky scarf, tied in a loose knot. She wore a black skirt that rested at her knees and clung to her curves. Her strappy black heels finished the outfit and made her a clear respectable church girl.

She smiled brightly at the stunned men and walked out towards the car. Her hips swaying naturally as she went.

"What about your weapons?" Dean asked as they went outside. Kat giggled to herself and shook her head lightly.

"I have a pocket knife, a bowie knife, and a 9mm on me," she said smirking. Dean let his eyes ravage her form with no embarrassment.

"Where?" he asked.

"For me to know…" she trailed off, getting into the back of the impala and staying quiet for the rest of the drive. They arrived at the church quickly and joined the masses of the devout. Kat noticed the stiffness in Dean's back and the relaxed smile on Sam's face. She hooked her arm with Dean's and gave him a small smile. He offered a strained one back and they took seats in the back rows.

Kat listened carefully to the service. The current priest smiled at the faithful and told them that their last father was in a better place and that he wouldn't want them to mourn him. He continued by saying that it was such a tragedy that men should die by heart attacks, but that it was simply God's will. Kat gripped Dean's hand to keep him from snorting his distaste.

Dean knew that if God was out there, he didn't give a crap about any of these people. He didn't spend his time picking and choosing who would live and who would die. It amazed him how often people did that. Assumed that a higher power cared about people as small as they were. He still didn't understand why God had singled him out.

His eyes flitted to her and smiled. She was still facing forward, had not even turned to glance at him, but had known he was building up to expressing his opinions. He stopped listening to the service and started thinking about how she fit into all of this. What Cas had told him so many nights ago in his car was constantly scratching at his brain. He had tried to bury it deep inside himself, but kept coming back. He wished that the angel had never admitted who she was…what she was.

He did wish he knew what her destiny was supposed to be. His and Sam's were planned out and the angels were betting that they would give in. But did Kat have one? A planned out pathway that she had to follow? Given what he knew about her, and what Cas had told him, he doubted she would stick to one.

When the service ended, Kat waited back. She approached the pulpit and smiled warmly at the fifty-something man in robes.

"Hello. I'm Katherine Montgomery, I'm new in town and I like to meet the man I worship with," she said brightly. Her voice was sweet and assuring and Sam thought she would do well in the con business. "I wanted to say that that was a very moving service. I didn't know the late father, but by the way you talked about him, I wished I did."

"That's awfully kind of you dear," the man said in a soothing voice. "I'm Father Simmons. And who are these young men?"

"This is my husband Dean and my brother Sam," she said confidently as they men shook hands with the father. "We wanted to express our condolences, to both this priest and the last one. Father Murdock," she said with wide sad eyes.

"Did you know Murdock?" Simmons asked.

"Yes. I passed through this town a few years back. He got me onto a better path," she said sadly. The priest smiled and held her hands in his own wrinkled ones.

"I'm glad to hear that you found God."

"How did he die, Father?" She asked gently, as if it would give her closure to know.

"The police say that his water was poisoned. He had paused during the service to drink," the old man whispered.

"And they never found who did it?" She asked in a shocked voice.

"No. The whole town was scared stiff for months. His wife was so distraught," he confided.

"I'm so sorry you all had to go through that. Losing a loved one isn't something I would wish on my worst enemy," she said softly.

"The pain of his loss has made us a stronger community, in the end," he said, smiling sadly.

"And he is in a better place?" She made it a question, searching his eyes.

"I believe he is still with us," the priest said softly. Sam and Dean gave them space as she did their job twenty-times better than they ever could.

"Why do you think that?" She asked, her voice open to his opinions. There was no judgment in her voice and father found solace in it.

"Things move here. Candles and crosses are flung across the room, and it gets cold in some places. Sometimes I swear I can see him."

"And do you think he was responsible for the late priests heart attack?"

"I don't know. I hope not," he said quietly.

"Is Father Murdock buried outside?" She asked finally.

"Yes. Why?"

"My friends and I…we can solve your problem. We know how to put him to rest. Permanently," she said carefully.

"How…how do you know about these things?"

"We help people. We save them from what they cannot understand," she said softly. "But we'll need your help."

The Father was silent a long time, before looking into her eyes and realizing he felt he could trust her. "What do I need to do?"

"Keep the church and the grounds empty tonight. Get yourself and your family safe at home and be sure no one comes here. We don't want anyone to be hurt," she said softly.

"How do I keep them safe?" he asked with wide eyes.

"Salt your home. Salt is too pure for them to cross over," she said seriously. He nodded and patted her shoulder fondly.

"You really are God sent," he said as he passed her. She smiled sadly, not believing him, and met back up with Sam and Dean.

"We're good to go," she said smiling.

"You're really good at that. I almost believed you," Sam said smiling at her.

"All in the eyes," she said winking. "So Murdock was murdered, and they never found the guy who did it. Coincidence? I think not!"

"So he's around for vengeance?" Dean asked.

"Looks like," she said, shrugging. "We've got some time to kill before we hit the salt and burn, so…do you want to talk to the wife?"

"Sure, we will. You can do what ever you want," Sam said smiling.

"I can help," she started.

"You just did all the work in there, let us feel useful," Dean said smirking. Kat nodded and they dropped her off at the motel. She stripped down to her underwear and changed into old jeans and an AC/DC shirt. She collapsed on her bed and pulled her laptop to herself. She spent the rest of the afternoon doing research and updating Bobby on the case.

When Sam and Dean came back, they were surprised to see her nose deep in her laptop and books surrounding her. Dean cocked his head to the side and read the title she was reading on the laptop. 'Half-breeds of the supernatural world.'

"Don't worry about that too much, you're still the same person," he reminded her.

"I just want to know what I am," she said quietly. Sam smiled, he could understand that. He had faced much the same dilemma, and he had fought to understand it.

Dean nodded, wishing she would give it up. He didn't want her to be hurt by the truth. He wished he didn't know. It was like when his father told him he might have to kill Sammy. It was knowledge he didn't want.

"Does this have to do with the whole spine-shifting-eyes-glowing thing?" Sam asked, crashing on his own bed.

"I promised Bobby I'd look into it," she said with out looking up. Dean sighed and looked at her slowly.

"Don't get caught up in it. You'll find an answer, but it doesn't have to be today," he said softly, taking his clothes to change for the work ahead of them tonight. Kat thought that Dean was right, whether she liked to admit or not. She shut down her computer and picked up all the books around her.

"You're listening to Dean?" Sam asked, his voice full of shock.

"Don't sound so surprised," she said sarcastically. "You're brother's a lot smarter than you give him credit for."

"Oh I know. It's just better for all of us if his ego stays down," Sam said, smirking. "It's big enough as it is."

"With good reason, Sammy boy," Dean's voice called from the other side of the door.

"Dammit!" Sam whispered. "He's never gonna let me live this down."

"Not even an option," Dean voiced.

"You are not going to enjoy the next few days," Kat said, laughing lightly.