Hello Beautiful SPN Family! I hope you're pleasantly surprised to hear from me again so soon, HA! This story just wouldn't leave me alone until it was written down- I'm sure some of you know what that's like! It's another case story, and this is part one. This one deals with a lot more philosophical thoughts and adult feelings than I normally write, but like I said, it kept beating on my brain till I got it on paper. Or screen. Or whatever. Side note- the title of this story is a mini shout out to Felicia Day (who if I can figure out a way to work her in to the story line, Charlie will TOTALLY be here!). Extra points to you if you know what it's from!

I want to take a moment and thank all of you for the follows, favorites and reviews. I know I've said it before, but the fact that you guys care about Natalie as much as I do and want to keep reading her- that's one of the best feelings I've ever had in my life. I cannot thank you all enough. Please, send me your requests- I have quite a list of Natalie stories to write, and it may take a while, but I promise, I will get to each and every one. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. I know a lot of you want to see more young Natalie too- she's coming, don't you worry!

Another big special thanks to Jenmm31- the sister I never knew I had! She has been so supportive, gracious, and helpful- not just in my writing, but in my personal life too. I owe her so much, but the best I can do is to tell you all to go check out her stories- they're just as incredible as she is. Go show her the love!

Alright- you know the drill- read, review and enjoy!

A/N- this is a 3 part story, with this being part 1. In the story, Natalie is 19. Please see profile page for disclaimer.

The rain would never stop. Or it never seemed to stop. They sped down the highway, the whine of the Impala's engine not enough to drown out the pounding drops on the car's metal roof. Natalie was trying to get past the sound, keeping her earbuds in and her iPod on shuffle. She was currently listening to the best of Guns and Roses- usually enough to put her in a good mood, but this pouring rain was like the world's worst downer. The slick gray road looked as depressing as it felt, like all of the color was being sucked out of this place and relocated to somewhere that it could be appreciated. And that certainly wasn't this endless stretch of highway with three Winchesters barreling down it.

The storm had started last evening, and Dean decided he didn't want to drive through the rain all night. He made up some bogus excuse about them all needing to rest and focus for the hunt, but Natalie knew it was because he couldn't quite see as well as he used to, given his age, and it freaked him out. Driving in the rain was getting harder, now that he was getting older. He absolutely refused to get glasses, and also refused to let her drive, so all in all, she was grateful they had stopped last night.

However, just because they stopped, that didn't mean the rain did. It had continued pouring, coming down in buckets, as they tore down the highway. Her uncle was discussing the details of the new case with her dad, but she just continued to sit back with her eyes closed, letting Slash's magical guitar riffs pour through the headphones and take her away. She already knew the case forwards and backwards. A small town in Jackson County, Missouri had suddenly reported an outbreak of people dropping dead. Randomly. No reasons at all. Sam had actually discovered the case a couple days ago, but they had been delayed by a decidedly brilliant prank from Team Dean and Natalie. She grinned to herself- well, she still thought it was brilliant, her Uncle Sam- not so much. Her smile faded as she looked back out of the rain streaked window. She tried to close her eyes, to drift away, dreaming of sunny days and easy cases and cute boys, but then her iPod switched to "November Rain". That was the final straw; the irony was too much to take.

She ripped the earbuds out of her ears, and switched the iPod to "off". Sam and Dean were still knee deep in discussion. She sighed to herself. Just once, just ONCE, maybe they'd have a car ride that didn't start with discussing people getting killed, or evil sucking someone's souls out, or monsters who did more than go bump in the night. But she knew that was just almost too much to ask for. They were Hunters. It was what they did.

Natalie had been thinking more and more about it lately. She had been raised, since birth, to know what was really out there- all the angels, demons, wendigos, tulpas, you name it. Her family had been hunters, and she was no different. Well- she was a little different. All of her other family members had tried to get out of hunting, at least for a while. Her grandmother had tried to get out, her uncle had tried to get out, and even her father had tried to live the apple pie white picket fence life for a while- that had been right before she had come along. The difference between them and her was- she had no intention of getting out. Ever. She didn't want to. She felt a drive inside her, something that she couldn't really identify. She needed to be saving people, and hunting things. She needed to bring justice to an unfair world that didn't really know what it was up against. She needed to get whatever this drive was inside of her out, doing something; otherwise she knew she would simply cease to exist. At least, that's how she felt about it. The inner need wasn't something that she could just put aside. She didn't want to, but moreover, she really couldn't. It was always nagging her- eating at her thoughts. And the primary thought was- if I can't act on this inner desire, this inner need to be helping to make the world a better place with the gifts I've been given- then why am I even here? What is the point of all of this? What reason am I here on the Earth?

That brought on a whole new round of thoughts. She was here to eradicate evil, she knew that. But beauty in the world had been created for a reason, too. Mankind was meant to observe and enjoy. She was astounded every day by simple things- things that other people would take for granted, simply because she had never had the luxury of taking it for granted. Like walking into a store to buy something other than supplies and ammunition. She knew Sam and Dean tried to give her as much of a normal life as was possible in their line of work, but that was the trouble. None of them had a clue what a normal life was.

She roused herself from her esoteric thoughts with a firm shake of her head. She pushed down the guilt she felt at wanting normalcy. She shoved aside the terrifying thoughts of not being able to save the world. There really was nothing to think about- she was working, as hard as she could, every single day, to make the world a better place. She wondered when it would ever be enough. If the drive would ever subside and leave her in peace. NO! She scolded herself, sitting up and clearing her throat in an effort to shake off the feelings once again. She was finding it harder and harder not to slip into these meanderings through her depressing subconscious lately, but she was the master of herself- and as such, wouldn't allow herself to think about this more than she really needed to. Otherwise, it would bog her down. It would impair her judgment. And she didn't want any distractions while she was on a case. She had a job to do, and that was where her focus needed to lie.

She chimed into the conversation, trying to figure out where they were in the never ending round of twenty questions that came up with their cases. She was surprised, however, to realize that they had moved past the case discussion, and were on to a whole new topic. And, judging from the part of the conversation she had jumped into, they had been for a while.

"No way dude! There is nothing redeemable about it!"

"Two words for you, Sammy. Short Round."

"Okay, yes, the kid was cool, but that didn't make up for the whole movie!"

"Dude- Short Round IS the movie."

"He was just a little stereotype- it was actually more insulting than anything else."

"You're not Asian. You don't know if they thought it was insulting."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Say what you will, but Temple of Doom sucks, and everybody knows it."

"That's Blasphemy, Sam. There is no such thing as a bad Indiana Jones movie."

"Um, excuse me?" Natalie piped up from the backseat, her grin twisting sideways, as it always did. "Did you not see the last one?"

Dean looked in the rearview mirror to catch his daughter's snapping green eyes. "Welcome back to the land of the living," he said with a grin.

"Thanks," she said dryly.

"Natalie, tell your dad that he's wrong," Sam said.

"No thanks. I just got back to the land of the living. I don't want to die," she said, sassing her uncle as per usual. Sam rolled his eyes in response.

Dean arched his back proudly. "That's my girl," he said, grinning.

"Although I have to say, there are definite winners and losers in the Indiana Jones series. Raiders of the Lost Ark? Freaking brilliant."

"Nazi faces melting off- couldn't agree with you more," Dean said pleasantly.

"And of course- the Last Crusade."

"Holy Grail. Hot chick turns bad. Creepy old guard dude. Movie writing at its finest."

"But Kingdom of the Crystal Skulls? Come on. Sucked on all levels."

"You're grounded."

Natalie and Sam both snickered at that. "Trying to bring back Marion? And the whole subplot of having a kid now? Come on. You can't just change the plot line of a character you like and throw a kid in the mix just to make yourself feel better."

They all paused and thought for a good long moment about that.

"Anyways, it totally bombed. Yes, we respect it- it is Indy, after all."

"Damn straight."

"But they could have done better."

"They should have put a sex scene in there."

Natalie huffed in disgust. "Really Dad? Really?"

Dean shrugged and shot her his shit eating grin. "Abso-freaking-lutely."

"Oh my god. Could you be anymore gross."

"Give me a minute. I'm sure I can come up with something."

As disgusted as Natalie was at Dean's last comment, she felt an enormous wave of unexpected relief. Here she was, getting her normal conversation. Feeling like a real person, while on her way to help someone who desperately needed it. Her thoughts had once again tried to twist her towards the darkness, but her Dad and Uncle were there, pulling her back into the light without even knowing it.

*SPN SPN SPN*

They had checked in to the motel, gotten their stories straight, and headed off to the police station, posing as two FBI agents and of course, their trusty new intern. Natalie wondered to herself when she would be able to stop playing the "younger rookie" role. Her height was certainly working against her- she was only 5'1' to her father's 6'1 and her uncle's 6'5. She could have been seventy five and still looked like a kid next to them. However, when it came to the average middle aged sexually frustrated man that was usually tied up in one of these cases, she became anything but a kid. Much to her father's chagrin, she had definitely inherited his "way with the opposite sex". She had more discretion than Dean however. She rarely went on dates, and when she did, they never lasted long. She had never really found anyone that intrigued her enough to keep her attention longer than a couple hours face to face, or maybe a week's worth of text messaging- if they had a vocabulary that extended past the eighth grade. People might say she was waiting for "The Right One", but in reality, she was waiting for someone who could keep up.

The three Winchesters walked into the police station of Jackson County. Dean, as usual, was point on the case, so he strode up to the desk importantly, pulling out his fake badge. Sam and Natalie followed suit. Natalie decided that this particular character she would be playing today was going act bored by everything she saw. Usually, when people acted bored, others tended to write them off, thinking that they weren't observing their surroundings or the situation. In her case, it couldn't be further from the truth. Everyone else's indifference let her take advantage of her environment, wandering off, getting into places and things that other people wouldn't dare dream of. She was so incredibly good at silently slipping in and out of rooms, gathering intelligence, that she could sometimes even pull it off without Sam or even Dean noticing.

The receptionist behind the desk paged the lead detective on the murders, and they were now being escorted into his office. As usual, there were only two chairs in front of the detective's desk. Without even acknowledging it, Dean and Sam sat down, leaving Natalie to stand by the door, listening to any conversations that may be happening outside of the detective's office. The trick had come in handy more than once. No one ever seemed to question the "rookie" not taking a seat, even if she was a girl.

The lead homicide detective, a man named Dietrich, was leaning back in his wooden rolling chair. Natalie thought the office looked like it was right out of the set of "To Kill A Mockingbird". The old fashioned, dark wooden furniture, the dusty books- hell, there was even a slowly creaking overhead fan barely doing its job. She inwardly chuckled at it all, but kept her face smooth. She had had so many years of smothering her smiles, it came almost naturally now. Ever since she was twelve, and had made her first kill- a twisted former human who constantly told her what a great smile she had- she kept her smile in check. Came in handy for a hunter.

"Well, I don't rightly know now, fellas," the detective said, scratching his comb-over. He carefully patted it to make sure his scratching hadn't revealed the fact that he was balding, and dropped his hands back onto his weak thighs. "We thought at first that it was some serial killer- I mean, fits the pattern."

Sam nodded knowingly. "Yeah it does- except for the fact that all the people allegedly dropped dead at the exact same time. In broad daylight."

"Yeah, that's the tricky part," the detective agreed.

"The toxicology reports- was there anything interesting in there?" Dean asked, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. Detective Dietrich fished through the pile of manilla folders on his desk, looking for the correct papers. When he found them, he handed them over to Dean with a sigh.

"Nothing. The one older man, Mr. Dutcher, had been drinking earlier that day, but that was really it. The two women were clean. Not even aspirin in their systems."

Dean leaned back, and looked over his shoulder at Natalie, who was examining a picture on the detective's wall. "I think the kid and I may take a trip down to the morgue. See the vics for ourselves, if you don't mind." Natalie turned her head slightly to look at Dietrich, whose eyes flicked quickly to hers, and looked her up and down. Natalie bit her tongue- did every single middle aged man have to give her the once over like that? Dietrich nodded, and Natalie pushed the disgusting thought out of her head that he was nodding in response to his appraisal of her. The detective looked back at Dean.

"Not sure what you're going to find that we didn't, but knock yourselves out," the detective said. He reached out and pressed an intercom button on the desk phone. "Rachel?" he said, leaning down towards the phone. "Can you please let Will know that an Agent Radcliff and Agent Watson are on their way to him?"

"Sure thing," came the chirpy voice from his phone. Natalie resumed looking at the picture on the wall, which appeared to be photo of a parade float with several very gaudily dressed women on it.

"Those are our Sweet Potato Queens," Dietrich said proudly. Natalie's eyebrows flew up into her hairline. She turned towards the detective, praying that she could keep the calm mask of indifference in place.

"I'm sorry- the what?" she asked quietly.

"Sweet Potato Queens," he said. It didn't sound any less ridiculous the second time around. "They're these...GORGEOUS women who dress up in these crazy sparkly green dresses, and ride a big float every year in our Saint Patty's Day parade."

"Really," Natalie said, barely able to keep the ice out of her voice. Seriously? A detective had a picture of a bunch of middle aged women in Goodwill ball gowns on his office wall? What in the world was wrong with the south?

"They're big important people here in these parts," the detective said proudly. "If you look at that picture closely, Miss, you'll see that the Head Queen is blowing me a kiss." Dietrich sat up straighter in his chair, clearly still relishing that photographic moment. "Best day of my life," he sighed longingly.

"Wow. You all must really be strapped for entertainment in these parts, huh?" Dean said flatly. Natalie ducked her head down, as the giggle threatened to escape from her lips. She saw Sam lean over and grind his heel into her dad's toe. Dean shifted uncomfortably, and tried to subtly yank his foot out from under Sam's oppressing one. The detective just blinked at them all, as if he couldn't understand how they couldn't comprehend the enormity of a Sweet Potato Queen kiss.

"We should get going, Sir," Natalie said to Dean. He stood up, shot a quick glare at Sam as if to say, you'll pay for that later, and with a polite nod at the detective, they left the office in search of the morgue. When they were gone, Sam scooted his chair closer to the desk.

"Detective Dietrich," he began. "Were there any links between the victims? Anything at all?"

"Nothing that we could find," the detective said wearily. "Mr. Dutcher was a loan officer at the local bank. He was almost about to retire. The other two victims, one was a housewife, and the other was a receptionist at the dentist's office."

"They didn't know each other, or have any mutual friends?"

"Nobody's come forward."

"Would any of them have enemies?"

"Well, Mr. Dutcher was a loan officer- he had been foreclosing on several houses recently. I mean, times being what they are and all. But I can't see that as a reason to want to kill him- the man was just doing his job. And the housewife- her name was Mrs. Ives. Susan. My wife was actually friends with her." At this, the detective bowed his head.

Sam smiled sympathetically. "I'm so sorry for yours and your wife's loss," he offered. Dietrich bobbed his head once in acknowledgment of Sam's words, and looked back up.

"Yeah, my wife- she's pretty torn up about it. Susan was a good friend. She was a good woman. I can't think of a single reason that someone would want to kill her."

"And the receptionist?"

"Young thing. About 20." When Sam heard her age, it was like an ice pick stabbed his heart. Natalie, his niece, was nineteen. He couldn't imagine her life ending so short, the way this poor girl's had. He mentally shook himself and tried to focus back on the detective. "She was working two jobs, paying her way through college. She had a boyfriend, but we brought him in for questioning already. The kid's a mess- we don't think he had anything to do with it. He's been released. Oh! I almost forgot!" the detective said, suddenly interrupting himself. "We've had a missing person's report that came through yesterday."

"Missing persons? Not a death? How do you think it's related to the murders then?" Sam asked, puzzled.

"Because it's a dental hygienist that works at the same location as the murdered receptionist."

Sam sat up, intrigued. "But she's just missing? There's been no signs of foul play or anything like that?" he pressed.

Dietrich bobbed his eyebrows once. "Just missing. Her roommate says she hasn't been seen for a few days now."

Sam nodded. He still couldn't see anything supernatural in this, but it certainly was strange. "Do you mind if I take these files to study?" he asked the detective, pointing at the victims' pile.

"Go ahead. And good luck. But I don't know what else there is to find. We're stumped." Sam gathered the files close to him, and made to stand up. The detective, however, had a different idea.

"Hey- this the first time you've ever been to Jackson County?" he asked, a conspiritory look in his eye.

"Uh, yes detective, it is," Sam said, wondering where Dietrich was going with this.

"So let me tell you all about the Sweet Potato Queens," Dietrich said gleefully. It wasn't often that new people came into town, not knowing about these wonderful beauties. He longed to talk about them, as if that would somehow bring them closer to him.

Sam just smiled weakly, knowing he was trapped.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Dean and Natalie were making their way to the crime lab/morgue. Apparently, in this district, they were one and the same. They had been told to ask for a Will- he was the one who had performed the autopsies. As they walked down the hall together, Dean muttered to Natalie out of the side of his mouth.

"You sure you're going to be okay on this?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It means that I know how you get with the medical side of things." He grinned knowingly.

Natalie rolled her eyes. "Oh my god. Are you ever going to let that go?"

Dean chuckled. "Nope. It's not every day someone passes out cold at the sight of their own blood."

Natalie threw up her hands. "I was fourteen! It was the first time you ever sewed me up. And it's never happened since, not once. It was your fault for not preparing me properly."

"Oh, and a lifetime of training didn't prepare you enough?"

"Not when it comes to my father jabbing a needle through my skin."

"We probably shouldn't be talking about this. I don't want you to go all southern damsel on me while we're on a case."

Natalie just punched his arm in response. For being so little, she was surprisingly strong, and actually made Dean lose his balance for a split second.

"Hey. Punching your commanding officer is a felony, missy," he said with a taunting grin.

"Shut up," she said with a smothered laugh.

"Oh- by the way- what's up with the new names on the badges? I don't know any rock stars with the last names of Watson or Radcliff."

"That's because they're not rock stars. They're actors from Harry Potter."

That made Dean stop dead in his tracks. "Harry Potter? Seriously?"

Natalie shrugged. "I decided to change things up a bit."

Dean snorted and shook his head, continuing to walk. "Well, clearly I have failed as a father."

Just then, the two of them reached the door labeled "Crime Lab". Dean took the handle, then paused for a moment.

"Seriously. You okay?" he asked gruffly. Natalie's lips twisted to the side, attempting to hide her smile.

"I'm fine. A couple cadavers with no signs of damage whatsoever? Pfff," she said, blowing a raspberry. "I'm good." Dean just chuckled and shook his head. He pushed open the door to find a young man sitting behind a desk. His dark head was bent down, obsessively reading some report. They stood there for a moment, but the kid was so caught up in whatever it was he was reading, that he didn't notice. Dean cleared his throat, making the kid nearly jump out of his skin. Dean looked sideways at Natalie as if to say, can you believe this? Natalie struggled to keep her face impassive. Damn him for making me laugh, she thought to herself.

"Oh, err- sorry, I...um...didn't hear you come in," the boy said. Natalie turned to give him the typical reassuring smile to put him at ease, when she noticed his eyes. They were the most intriguing shade of dark blue- the hint of the universe of space. She didn't think she had ever seen such halting blue eyes before. She had always been a sucker for them. Her words immediately stuck in her throat. The boy looked back into her eyes, and, as if he was acting against his will, he stood up. That didn't help Natalie catch her breath at all. He was tall- taller than she expected him to be. He had apparently been slouching at his desk, betraying his physical form. He was lanky, but looked tough. His air evaporating eyes seemed to bore into hers. I wouldn't mind if he gave me the once-over like the detective did, Natalie found herself thinking.

Dean wasn't completely oblivious to the tangible moment between the two. He had been trying, for his daughter' sake, to ease up on her when she found someone attractive, or wanted to go on a date, or whatever. The fact that he hadn't shoved her out of the room to get her out of the boy's sight was quite the accomplishment. However, they were here to do a job, and apparently, his daughter needed reminding of that. He reached over, put a finger under her chin, and shut her mouth. Natalie wasn't aware that it was even hanging open. She blushed furiously, and quickly looked at the ground. She could almost hear Dean yelling at her in her mind to get a grip, just from the look she knew he was shooting her way.

Dean pretended like nothing was amiss at all- like he walked around shutting his partner's mouth on a daily basis. He pulled out his badge, and Natalie, fumbling for a second, did the same.

"I'm Agent Radcliff, this is Agent Watson," Dean said, a hint of barely controlled rage in his voice now that he knew where those names came from. "We'd like to take a look at the three murder cases."

"Sure! Absolutely!" the young man said, tearing his gaze away from Natalie. "I'm Dr. William Macguire," he said, with a respectful nod to both of them.

"You're the pathologist?" Dean said, clearly stunned.

"Yes, sir," he said without missing a beat.

"Aren't you a little young to be a doctor?" Natalie said before she could bite the words back in. She suddenly felt flushed and stupid at the same time. He smiled at her. Whoa, her estrogen flooded brain thought. His smile was almost as perfect as his eyes. Almost.

"I guess I could ask you the same question, Agent," he said, a charming lilt to his voice. To her absolute horror, a girlish giggle burst out of her lips, making her sound like she was five years old. Will just smirked and turned away from the desk, making his way towards the hallway, beckoning Dean and Natalie to follow. When he was sure Will's back was turned, Dean looked in amazement at Natalie, but she didn't look back. He could see the stunned, confused look on her face, trying to figure out how the hell SHE had just made that simpering, bubbly noise. He watched her shake her head once, then look at him. When she caught her father staring at her, she quickly mouthed, "Sorry," with a contrite look on her face.

And for once, instead of getting pissed, it made Dean grin. She was trying to keep her head in the game, and he was proud of her for that. But watching her flail like a schoolgirl for a second? That was hilarious.

They followed Will down the hall to the small, stark white examination room. It was actually a normal sized room, but with three different bodies, all on stretchers, plus a doctor and two FBI agents, the room seemed smaller than was typical. Will reached out and pulled the sterile white sheet from one of the victim's faces. The man underneath was an older man, around sixty. His white hair was a bit long for what one would expect from a senior loan officer at a bank. His face looked peaceful, serene even. Will continued to pull back the sheet, exposing the man to the waist.

"This is Mr. Dutcher. As you can see, there's absolutely no external signs of trauma, " Will said, a puzzled tone in his voice.

"And nothing came back on the toxicology reports?" Natalie said, all business. Dean was leaning in, trying to examine the body closer. Will shook his head.

"Absolutely nothing. From what we can tell, his heart just stopped."

"How unusual is that? For a man of his age?" Natalie asked.

Will shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time it's happened, but with the other two, it's practically unheard of." He gently placed the sheet over the man's face, and walked around the stretcher to the next body. Pulling back the white cloth, he revealed a blonde mess of curly hair, and a face that was too young to be in this place. He pulled the sheet only to her chest, keeping her naked form covered. Natalie took two seconds to appreciate his modesty for the young girl, even in death.

"Her name was Kaylee Costa. She was only twenty years old. I didn't know Miss Costa, but my friend AJ was dating her. She was a vegan, totally health conscious. There was nothing in any examination to indicate how she died."

"Her heart just stopped too," Natalie said woodenly. This was so unfair. Cut down in the prime of her life. Man, this job sucked sometimes.

"It's awful, isn't it?" Will said, as if in response to Natalie's thoughts. "She had so much potential. All the things that she ever wanted in her life. All the dreams she'll never get to discover." Natalie's eyes widened at Will's statement. She had never heard a medical examiner be anything but clinical and concise. The amount of compassion that was coming out of this man towards this victim was undeniable. And intriguing. Will swallowed hard, and looked back up at Dean and Natalie with an apologetic smile. "Sorry. Sometimes the job just sucks, you know?"

Both Dean and Natalie chuckled in response, nodding their heads simultaneously, as they were wont to do. Will started for a moment at seeing the two of them move in sync, but quickly shook it off. He covered Kaylee back up, and turned to the last stretcher. He was about to pull the sheet from the woman's face, but then stopped and turned to them.

"Did you want to see Mrs. Ives? It's fine if you do, but there's just nothing on her," Will said. Dean shook his head.

"No thanks, Doctor, we're okay. I'd like to take a look at your autopsy reports, though," Dean said gruffly. Will bobbed his head once in acknowledgment of Dean's request.

"Be right back," he said. He turned and walked out the door into the hallways. When his footsteps faded into the distance, Natalie quickly turned and pulled the sheet down on Mrs. Ives. Like Will had said, there was absolutely nothing. Just a poor, forty something year old housewife. Dean was still leaning in close to the body of Mr. Dutcher. Natalie checked Mrs. Ives' eyes and mouth, but they were all intact. No burn marks, no extra teeth, there weren't even any scratches on the woman.

"I don't get it," she mused quietly. "There's absolutely nothing here. No signs of anything at all." She turned around. Dean wasn't paying attention to her- he was sniffing.

"Do you smell that?" he asked. She walked back to the stretcher.

"Is it sulfur?" she asked, leaning down towards the body.

"No," Dean said, unsure of what he was smelling. He took another deep breath, as did Natalie. She didn't get anything, but Dean's brow was still wrinkled in confusion.

"It's like..." he trailed off. His eyes suddenly went wide, and he looked at Natalie.

"Like what?" she pressed.

"This is going to sound insane."

"More insane than 'we hunt monsters for a living'?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "It smells like...apple pie."

Natalie blinked twice. "You're right. That's more insane."

"Shut up. Get down here."

She leaned in closer, and inhaled again. She still didn't catch anything. She moved to the stretcher holding Kaylee, leaned down, and, feeling like an idiot, inhaled deeply. This time, however, she caught the scent of something fruity.

"Whoa," she said quietly. "Got it on this one." Dean rushed over to Mrs. Ives, and inhaled.

"Yup. Her too," he said in a low tone. Just then, Will walked back into the room, a stack of files in his hands. He handed them off to Dean.

"Thanks," he said gruffly. He looked back and forth between Natalie and Will for a moment. "I'm going to go check up on Agent Grint, you come on out when you've finished up here," he said to Natalie. Her eyes widened for a second. Was her father actually leaving her alone for a moment with a man? This had to be one for the record books. He turned, leaving his stunned daughter with the young doctor. If this didn't get him out of a few years of purgatory, nothing would, he thought to himself.

Natalie walked out of the room just in time to see her father exiting the crime lab. She couldn't believe her good luck. "So," she said, trying desperately to come up with something more than "So". Her brain failed her spectacularly. Will, however, came to the rescue.

"So- how does such a young, pretty thing like you get tied up in the FBI?" he asked, his charm turned on full blast. Natalie's grin twisted off to the side, purely out of reflex, and her brain gave a tiny sigh of relief. Okay, she was back in control now.

"Graduated early. My father was an FBI detective. Just wanting to follow in the old man's footsteps," she said, a hint of pride in her voice. Will smiled. Natalie couldn't help but notice the small gap in between his two front teeth. Rather than making him look bucktoothed, it, along with the eyes, smile, and voice, was charming. "And you?" she said, turning her own charm on. It had an immediate effect on the young man, even with just two words. He seemed to grow a bit taller.

"I'm actually a lot older than I look. Or so I've been told," he said, chuckling.

"Really? Let me guess...you're twenty five?" she said.

"Darn. So close. Twenty six."

"Ooo, you're right. Ancient."

Will laughed at her teasing, which made her feel taller too. "I wish. It's hard being young in this field. I'm sure you get all kinds of crap for your age, too."

"You don't know the half of it."

"Well, I'd love to find out sometime. If you're free for coffee or whatever. You know, between chasing down these murderers and all."

Natalie's breath caught in her throat again, but this time, she kept herself in check. She smoothly pulled out a business card case out of her back pocket, subtly letting her hand slide over her hip and side before popping the case open. She grinned, noticing Will's eyes scanning her hips, then quickly looking away. She withdrew one of the fake business cards with her real cell number on it.

"I'm sure I can find the time," she said in a low, sweet tone. She extended the card to him. "Give me a call. You know, if you figure out what actually killed these people or something," she teased.

He smiled charmingly. "I'll be sure to," he breathed. Natalie's eyes closed for a second, imagining that husky voice close to her mouth. Holy crap, keep it in your pants, Winchester, she suddenly scolded herself. With one more smile, she turned and left the young doctor in the hallway.

*SPN SPN SPN*

They were on the way back to the motel, hands loaded down with manilla folders and files, all containing the single fact of "cause of death unknown".

"Are we even sure this is us?" Sam was asking. "I mean, yeah, it's weird that three people dropped dead for no reason whatsoever, but come on- there isn't a single bit of evidence of anything supernatural here."

Dean was shaking his head. "Call it a gut feeling."

"A gut feeling?" Sam asked, disbelievingly.

Dean nodded. "I second that," Natalie piped up from the backseat, where she was poring over the files.

Sam shrugged despondently. "Fine. But if this doesn't come to anything in a couple days, we're out of here."

"Fine," Dean growled. He turned into the motel, parking the Impala carefully by their door. The Winchesters loaded their arms up with the reports. Sam was the first through the door, and just as Natalie was about to walk through, Dean's voice stopped her.

"Hey- don't I even get a thank you for leaving you alone with Dr. Hot Stuff?" he teased. Natalie had to laugh at that one.

"First off- thank you. Second off- who are you and what have you done with my father?"

Dean shrugged playfully. "I liked him. He called me "sir"."

"I call you "sir"."

"That's because you know I'd kick your ass if you didn't."

"Seriously though? You liked him?"

"Yeah. He seems like a genuine good guy. Not like that douche bag in the last town we were at."

"Alex wasn't a douche bag!"

"Squirt, he practically had "douche bag" tattooed on his forehead."

"Whatever."

"I'm just saying, I think your choice in men is getting better. Must be all my good influence."

"That's undoubtedly it."

"You have my permission to go out with him."

"What is this, 1920?"

"Never mind. Permission revoked."

"Aw, come on!"

"Fine. When he asks you, you say yes."

"What makes you so sure he's going to ask me out?"

"Kiddo, I know that look he was giving you. Hell, I invented that look."

"I cannot believe you are being so calm about this."

"Well, like I said, he seems like an upstanding guy. Not to mention, if he tries anything physical with you, you'll suddenly think about the fact that all he does all day is touch dead bodies, and that will be the end of that."

"Oh, gross! Now that's all I'm going to be thinking of."

Dean just grinned in response, and walked past her through the open door. Natalie shook her head. Trust her father to always win when it came to her dating. She plopped the files down on the coffee table in the motel room. Suddenly, her phone buzzed with a text alert. She fished the phone out of her pocket, and opened the message.

*Hey- it's Will. I was wondering if you could take a break from the crime solving tomorrow night. Nothing like a good cup of joe to keep the murder theories coming*

Natalie grinned to herself. Will's profession was the last thing on her mind when it came to him.