Good Morning you beautiful person you!

Here's another case story for you. I won't be long winded, I'll just let you get right to it :) Special thanks to Jenmm31 for beta-ing, musing, and friending!

You know the drill, gorgeous. Read, Review, Enjoy!

A/N- in this story, Natalie is 16. Please see profile page for disclaimer.

Part 1

Sam stretched out his long arms, and rolled towards the small end table between his and Dean's beds. He blinked sleepily at the digital clock on the motel bed stand. 7:17. Huh. He had actually managed to sleep in a bit, even if it was only about forty five minutes longer than normal. He'd take it. He rubbed his eyes and looked around the room. Sure enough, Natalie had been up and about. The motel that they had been at for the past two weeks was about a block from a little coffee shop. She had gotten in the habit of doing a very early morning jog- usually around five thirty or so, then walking to the coffee shop and coming back with the morning coffee for the boys and a hot chocolate for herself, just in time for them to wake up. Sam's eyes drifted towards the table. Yep- just as he suspected- two to-go cups of coffee were waiting there. Ah, the Coffee Wench had been hard at work.

He dragged himself out of bed and stumbled towards the bathroom, then made his way back towards the table. He looked at the two cups- sure enough, one was labeled "Jerk" and one was labeled "Bitch". He rolled his eyes, picked up the "Bitch" coffee, and took a swallow. It was made just the way he liked it. She always got it so perfectly that he almost didn't mind her colorful name choices on labeling. Almost. His eyes continued to roam around the room. She had managed to pack up all their lore books and gear, but the laptops were still out. He chuckled to himself. It was like having a personalized maid, having her around. They had put their latest case to bed two days ago. The boys used yesterday to heal up, and they were all planning on hitting the road today as soon as they could find their next location. He was a bit surprised that she wasn't searching away on her laptop- usually where he found her when they first woke up. She wouldn't have wandered off without leaving a text or a note. He double checked his phone on the end table, trying to be quiet, as Dean was still snoring away. No messages. His brow wrinkled. He walked over towards the door and opened it.

Natalie was leaning up against a column in front of their room that was supporting the low-hanging overhead of the cheap motel. The paint on the column was desperately in need of being refreshed- Sam could see where whole chunks of it had been peeled off- but Natalie didn't seem to mind. She was resting one shoulder on it, her feet crossed casually, like she was just enjoying the view. Sam looked down at her hands. She had a red to-go cup in them, just like he thought she would. She was watching a line of kids around her age walking towards the public school that was about three blocks away from them.

"Have a great day!" she was calling out to them. Some of them looked oddly at her, some of them waved, some of them scowled. But she clearly didn't give a rat's ass about their reactions. She continued to call out with a slightly patronizing tone. Sam stared at her, trying to figure out what she was up to.

"Hey- good luck on that test! Have a great day indoors! Enjoy your standardized education!"

"What in the world are you doing?" Sam asked, his voice still a little gruff from sleep.

"Gloating."

"Seriously?"

"Yup."

"Why?"

She shrugged, a mischievous grin on her face. "Why not?"

"That's not very nice."

"I never said it was nice, Uncle Sam."

"Do you really think it's a good idea? You're not exactly going to win friends like this."

She turned to him and looked up- her small stature of 5'1 to his gargantuan stature of 6'5 causing her to crane her neck back. "Who cares? It's not like I'm ever going to see them again. Or that I ever knew them in the first place." She turned back, a smug smile on her face. Sam just shook his head and sipped his coffee. There was no doubt that she had thrived under the tutelage of Dean and himself. She had been on the road with them full time for ten years now, with Sam homeschooling her, and Dean hunter-training her. She was completely on course for where a girl at the age of sixteen should be, according to the government's laws on education, and actually, even more so. She was so advanced that Sam had no doubt she could have passed her GED with flying colors, but both he and Dean had agreed to make her wait for another year to take it. Sam wanted to make sure that if she decided to go to college that she would be with other kids that were relatively her own age. Unbeknownst to him, however, Dean agreed, simply because he knew his kid too well. He knew she had no desire to go to college; she would choose to keep studying on her own instead. She seemed to feel that once that GED was in her hands, she was ready for the hunting world, full time. Dean was still hesitant about that- she was only sixteen, for crap's sake- he was more than willing to let Sam pump the brakes on her education so he didn't have to be the bad guy for once.

Sam was taking another swallow of coffee, when Natalie waved again to a particularly surly and sleepy looking group of kids walking towards the school. "Only seven more months of drudgery! Have a great day!"

"Alright, that's enough," he said, as the teens were shooting daggers in her direction. Sam took her by the arm and all but shoved her back into the room. She complied with a bit of a giggle, willingly trotting back through the door. She quickly glanced at Dean's empty bed- he must have been in the bathroom. She turned back to Sam, a cocky smile on her face. Sam shook his head at her, unimpressed by her immaturity.

"You're a little brat, do you know that?" he said, the hint of a laugh in his voice betraying the stern look on his face. In response, she held up her own to-go cup of hot chocolate. Sam saw she had "Brat" written on the outside of her cup. He couldn't help but laugh at the adorable grin she gave him in response. It was like she was five all over again when she did that.

"You love me and you know it," she taunted playfully. She plopped down at the table and opened the lid to her laptop.

"You're just lucky that we didn't make you go to public school like we had to."

"Of course I'm lucky. I've got the best teachers in the world."

"Quit trying to suck up."

"Is it working?"

"No."

"But you know I'm right. You're the best freaking teacher out there."

"Still not going to help you convince your Dad to let you drive the Impala."

She snickered. "Fine. I still stand by the fact that you're the best." Sam looked up, and she was giving her a rare, affectionate smile. His heart warmed a bit. Maybe he would help her convince Dean, just this once...DAMMIT, he thought to himself. THIS is how she gets me, every time.

Just then, Dean came out of the bathroom. He was wiping his just-washed hands on his sweatpants, causing Sam to roll his eyes. Didn't matter how old Dean was- he was never going to mature. No doubt in his mind that this was exactly where Natalie got it from.

"Morning, Dad."

"Morning, Coffee Wench. Ah. The fruits of your labor." Dean plucked his cup off the table. He looked with a grimace at the name written on it, until it dawned on him. "Did you really get them to write "Bitch" on Sam's?" When Natalie nodded, Dean grinned. "Heh heh."

"Thank you," Natalie said, accepting the low chuckle as praise, her eyes never leaving her computer screen as she scanned for new cases.

"Find anything yet?" Dean asked.

"Just started."

"You just started? What have you been doing all morning?"

"She was taunting the kids who were walking to school," Sam interjected, a tone of displeasure still in his voice. However, it was mitigated by the fact that Dean grinned wildly.

"That's my girl," he said, raising his coffee cup to her in salute. She gave a little forehead salute back, her eyes still locked on the screen. "Guess I should be doing the same thing, huh?" he said, gesturing to her open laptop.

"That'd be great- I'm coming up with a fat lot of nothing here," she grumbled, irritated at the lack of cases presenting themselves.

"Scoot," he said, using his hands to wave her away. She stared up at him incredulously.

"Why can't you use yours?"

"Because yours is already opened and fired up."

"I'm working on this one."

"And as far as I can see, getting nowhere."

"This is my laptop!"

"Yeah, that I gave you. Move."

With a muttered curse, she reluctantly got up. Dean immediately plopped into her vacated chair. "Don't know what you're going to find there. It's pretty quiet right now." Dean didn't answer, so she grabbed her duffel bag and headed for the shower. If she couldn't find anything- any new leads or cases- she was convinced he wouldn't. However, by the time she was ready for the day, Dean was leaning way back in his chair, feet on the table. The grin on his face indicated that he had, indeed, found something, and was just waiting for her to get out of the bathroom to show off. His cocky grin aimed right at her made her purse her lips together in annoyance.

"You know, it's not nice to gloat," she said, using Sam's words from earlier this morning.

"I didn't say it was nice," Dean said. She didn't even need to look at Sam to know he was shaking with silent laughter.

*SPN SPN SPN*

They had just pulled on to the highway, when Dean started in, describing the case he found. "Okay, Scooby Gang. This is what we're looking at. All girls' boarding school in Massachusetts. Two suspicious deaths in three months. Details line up together to indicate it's the same person. Murder weapons found close to both victims, but no fingerprints, tracks, DNA, nothin'."

"What makes you think this is us? Our kind of case?" Sam asked.

Dean smirked and looked sideways at his brother. "Because mysteriously, in both cases, on the nights of the murders, all the security cameras around the campus went out. No video footage of anything suspicious before, but a dead body after all the static cleared."

"Could be a serial killer with a signal disruptor," Natalie chimed in from the backseat.

"Except that in both cases, it was only the video footage that was disrupted. All the other computers and iPods and, I don't know, VCRs stayed online."

"VCRs? Really, Dad?"

"Shut up."

"Any connection between the victims?"

"Nothin' that anyone can find, other than the fact that they both were a part of the school. One was a gym teacher, and the other was a student."

"Grudges held by an angry schoolgirl, maybe?" Sam asked, musing. Dean turned to Sam, a wolfish grin on his face.

"Oooo. Say 'Angry Schoolgirl' again. That's hot."

"BARF. You are disgusting," Natalie chimed in from the backseat.

"Blow chunks in this car and you're grounded for life."

"Keep talking about angry schoolgirls and I'll make sure to barf in the glove compartment."

"Could you two please focus? Because it sounds to me like we're on a wild goose chase here," Sam said loudly, overpowering their playful banter. Dean and Natalie sighed in tandem at Buzz Killington, and got back to discussing the case.

"Alright- try this one on for size. Police have questioned all the girls on campus. They all have alibis- sort of."

"What do you mean, 'sort of'?"

"I mean that there are a couple girls that say they can't remember where they were when the murders occurred."

"Like just drawing a blank lost hours, or like black out drunk lost hours?"

"They got nothing. From ten pm to two am, none of them can remember a damn thing. Same length of time that the surveillance cameras all crapped out."

"But you said they sort-of have alibis."

"Yeah. Other girls on their floors, roommates, all that- they vouch for the girls. Say they were with them the whole time. Police can't question them further, because they don't freaking know anything."

"Hours of memory loss- could be demon possession."

"And other demons covering for alibis."

"Or witches casting a forgetful spell."

"So yeah- that sounds like us."

"Yahtzee."

"Why didn't you lead off with that, Dean?"

"Because I like to watch you squirm."

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"Hell, if I was stuck in a prep school like that, I'd probably drink myself to black out every night just to forget I was there," Natalie said.

"Well, you're welcome for never putting you through that. Which reminds me. Did you finish drawing out those sigils I wanted you to practice?"

"Ah, crap, I forgot. Sorry. I'll do them now."

"You got plenty of time. Gonna be a long way to Massachusetts."

About an hour later, when she had finished the angel sigils, Natalie was on her phone, doing research on their current case.

"So the police are baffled- they can't find even a single lead to go on. There's just nothing," she reported, reading the article she had discovered.

"Well, it'll be good cover then, the FBI getting involved and all," Sam said.

"Wait- wasn't it was a gym teacher that bit it at the school?" Dean asked suddenly.

"Yeah."

"See if the job is still open. I could go in undercover." There was no mistaking the tone of glee in his voice when he said that, which made Natalie sit up straight in surprise.

"You'd willingly go into a school?" she asked, not quite sure she was really hearing what she thought she was hearing.

Dean nodded. "If it means I get a whistle, then hell yes." He turned to Sam, longing in his voice. "Remember, Sammy? Remember when I had the whistle?"

"Yes, Dean," Sam said, rolling his eyes to the heavens. Dean sighed, reminiscing.

"Ah, good times."

"Sorry to rain on your parade, Dad, but they've already filled the vacancy."

"Do a background check on the guy."

"Seriously? You want a whistle again that badly that you want me to dig into this guy's personal life to find something to get him fired for?"

"Damn straight."

Natalie sighed, but followed orders. "Well- I hate to tell you this, but he's clean. Not so much as a speeding ticket."

"Dammit. Guess we're stuck with the Fed Threads."

"On the plus side, I know what I'm getting you for your next birthday."

*SPN SPN SPN*

Once they arrived in the lovely little town in Massachusetts, they found a quiet little colonial style motel to check in to. The motel was nice enough, but it was the landscape around it that took the Winchesters' breaths away. The motel was surrounded by stunning October foliage. The red and orange leaves were still drooping from the large maple trees surrounding the land. The crisp, clean air snapped some red into Natalie's cheeks. She looked around the stunning sight in wonder.

"Wow- this is so cool," Natalie said. "Between the trees and the history in this town, this place seems really great."

"Yeah, while we're here, we should go see Fraggle Rock," Dean said. Natalie turned to him. His face was perfectly stoic, so she couldn't tell if he was joking or not.

"Fraggle Rock?"

"Yeah. Isn't that where the pilgrims landed and crap?"

"Please tell me you're joking," she pleaded. Dean just gave her a smarmy grin and grabbed the duffel bags out of the trunk. Natalie turned to Sam.

"When are you going to let me get that DNA test I keep asking for?" she asked, her joking smile twisting off to the side.

Sam just chuckled. "Trust me- you're his."

Once inside, they dumped their stuff on their respective beds. Natalie began by pulling out their laptops and making a work station on the wooden kitchen table. Sam and Dean donned their suits, getting ready to leave for the police station. And as usual, Natalie started badgering them to let her come along.

"Why can't I be like your...FBI intern or something?" Natalie asked, pressing them, trying to find something that would convince them to take her.

"One- because no one is going to believe you're old enough to be an intern," Sam said patiently.

"I could look older if you'd let me wear more makeup," Natalie grumbled. "Mascara and lip gloss will only take me so far."

"That's the idea," came her father's bark from the bathroom. She rolled her eyes.

"Two- you have a lot more practice to do before you're ready to handle an investigation," Sam continued as if neither of them had interrupted him.

Natalie sighed heavily and dropped onto the sofa. "Can we practice when you guys get back?"

Sam shrugged into his suit jacket. "We'll see," he said, giving the favorite non-committal phrase of parents everywhere. "Hurry up, Dean. What the hell is taking you so long?" Dean finally emerged from the bathroom, strutting like the cat that ate the canary. Sam knew instantly that Dean had been preening, seeing as they were about to head to an all girls' school.

"Dude- you do realize that most of the girls there are going to be jail bait?"

"Hey- Penthouse Forum said to always be prepared."

"Never mind. I don't wanna go anymore," Natalie said, pretending to throw up.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Fortunately for Sam and Dean, the police station was relatively close to the school. However, that was about the last fortunate thing that happened to them all day. Upon arriving at the station, they were immediately ushered into the sheriff's office after flashing their badges.

"I'm almost embarrassed to say it, but we've got absolutely nothing, gentlemen," said the overworked and exhausted Sheriff Macumber. He gestured for the boys to sit down, which they did. Sam noted the lines on the sheriff's tired face. It was clear this man was burning the candle at both ends. "I'm glad to see that the FBI is coming in to help."

That statement surprised Sam a bit. "I'm glad to hear that. Usually, people are wary when we show up."

"Well, those people are, to use the common phrase- idiots." The brothers smiled at each other- they liked this guy. "I've got two murders in my district, both unsolved. I want the families to be able to have some peace at night, knowing that whoever it was that killed their loved ones is behind bars."

"Well, we want that too, Sheriff," Dean said, leaning forward in his seat. "Tell me- is there any scrap of evidence that gives you any clue as to the murderer?"

"Even if it's something unusual, we'd like to know," Sam added. To their dismay, Macumber shook his head.

"The papers got it right- I've got nothing." He snorted derisively under his breath. "Damned press. Everything seems to be everybody's business around here. I had barely been able to notify the families when those news vultures had published an article online, describing everything in detail."

Sam nodded his head in sympathy. "There were no witnesses at the school? Nobody came forward?"

Macumber shook his head. "Not a one of them. We questioned the girls, but they're all backing each other up. They all come from money, too, so you can guess at the number of phone calls from every lawyer's office in Massachusetts we got, all telling us to leave these girls alone. Besides, they gave us nothing."

"Well, if it's alright with you, we're gonna say 'to hell with the lawyers' and question those girls again ourselves," Dean said in a matter-of-fact voice.

"Fine by me," the sheriff said. "I'll let my patrol cars know you're coming. I've got cops circling the campus round the clock, but they've not seen anything. I hope you two can get something out of those girls. I can't shake the feeling that one of them knows something, but won't come clean."

"We'll do our best to find out. Sheriff- before we go, can we ask you if any of the people you questioned mentioned any unusual activity on the nights of the murders?" Sam asked.

"No, they all said it was a quiet night, nothing out of the ordinary. Except the video interference, but I trust you gentlemen know about that already?"

The boys nodded in unison. "Yeah, we heard. Anything else weird, like cold spots, strange smells, anything like that?" Dean pressed. The sheriff seemed taken aback by the question, but slowly began to shake his head 'no'.

"Sorry, can't say that I heard anything like that. I'll review the transcripts of the interrogations, but I don't recall anything like cold spots coming up."

"Alright, thank you so much for your time, Sheriff."

*SPN SPN SPN*

The interrogation at school left them with even more nothing. As the girls were ushered into the small classroom they had been given for interrogations, Sam and Dean found themselves swimming in a sea of mindless teenage chatter coupled with having to fight a cell phone for attention. It felt to them like they were watching a montage of some terrible nineties D-lister movies.

"I already told the guys with the other shiny badges, I don't know anything."

"I would call my parents and report that you're harassing me, but they're on a trip to Aruba and they don't get good cell service."

"Any questions can be directed to my assistant." ("You're fifteen" -blatantly, from Dean). "I SAID, talk to my assistant."

"I just feel so bad about the Coach- I mean, obviously, because he died, but he had no fashion sense at all. I wonder what they buried him in. I hope it wasn't his own clothing."

"I was with the girls from my floor. I know I didn't leave the building at all, either night."

"Christy's in a better place now. It was good that she died. I'm sorry, but that's how I feel." ("And why do you say that?"-hopefully, from Sam). "Because she was a loser. All she ever did was hang out at the computer lab. She didn't even have an iPad of her own. What kind of life is that?"

"Look, like I told the other cops, all the girls on my floor and I were together. We were watching a movie that night. Believe me, I would have noticed if someone left. We were watching my favorite movie. No one is allowed to leave during my favorite movie."

"I'm sorry Officers, but Christy wasn't on my floor, so I really don't think I can answer any of your questions."

"Can I see your gun?"

"I really think the person who killed the coach killed the other girl, too." ("And what makes you think that?" -tiredly, from Dean) "Because that's what it said on the internet. And they can't print stuff on the internet if it isn't true."

"Okay, so you guys are under oath, right?" ("Uh- I guess so. Why?" -confusedly, from Sam) "Does this skirt make my butt look fat? You're under oath, you have to answer honestly."

Two mind numbing hours later, the brothers staggered back to the Impala. "Well, that was a fat lot of nothin'," grumbled Dean as they headed out to the car. He patted the hood of the Impala lovingly. "Baby, I sure am glad that you can't talk, sweetheart."

Sam just shook his head. "Man, I need a drink. That was painful." They headed to the nearest convenient store to grab a six pack. As they pulled into the parking lot, Dean spoke up again.

"What do you think? Stake the place out tonight? Do a little surveillance?" Sam looked at his brother like he had two heads.

"Dude, are you nuts?"

"What?"

"The sheriff said he's got people patrolling the grounds twenty four seven right now. Two creepy older dudes staking out an all girls' boarding school?"

"Hey! Watch who you're calling old!"

"The point is, that option is out. And Natalie checked- there's no job openings at the school. There's no way we can go undercover inside the school, which is really what we need right now."

"Well...there is one way..." Dean said, letting his words trail off.

Sam looked up at Dean, who was returning his gaze with his own conflicted one.

"Are you serious?"

"You and I both know it's our only option."

"And you're okay with it?"

"Hell no. But what other choice do we have?"

"So...I guess we need to go by the registrar's office then."

"Rock, Paper, Scissors on being the one to tell her."

*SPN SPN SPN*

An hour later, Sam and Dean stood before her. She sat on the couch, her hands folded on her stomach, listening to their proposal. Sam had explained, in great detail, how they were basically at a dead end, and this was the only option left to them. Dean expounded on the furthering of her hunter's education, and about how going undercover was a vital part of the whole job. They went through the speech they had rehearsed flawlessly, both giving gravitas to the other's point. From beginning to end, they laid out the plan. Natalie would go undercover as a student at the prep school. She would report into them every hour on the hour about what she could find and discover. It would be the first time they had let her go solo in the field. She was going to be the one to crack the case wide open. What could she possibly say?

"Nope," said Natalie.

"Look, if we had any other choice, Bug, you know we would have taken it."

"Hell no."

"You're the one who's always griping that we don't let you get your hands dirty. This is your chance."

"Fuck no."

"Watch your mouth."

"I'm sorry. Let me say it in Russian, then. Nyet."

"It's only until we solve this case, then we'll bust you out."

"Latin. Nihil."

"Natalie..."

"Pig Latin. Oh-nay."

"Alright, this is getting us nowhere," Dean growled. He looked at Sam. "You had your shot at explaining this to her. My turn."

"How was that MY shot?" Sam shouted at him, but Dean had already gripped Natalie under the arm and drug her off the couch. He was heading towards the door, ignoring his brother. Sam exclaimed in frustration the second the door slammed shut.

Out in the hallway of the Colonial style motel, Dean suddenly let go of his daughter's arm, and rounded on her, fixing her with The Eye. Natalie responded by rolling her own and crossing her arms. Just like she used to when she was little, Dean thought. Alright, kid, you wanna play it that way? Bring it. He crossed his own arms, his face frozen with The Eye, and stood firm- same stance he would give her on the rare occasion that she would misbehave when she was younger. He knew he just needed her to get all of her tantrum out, which she immediately proceeded to do.

"Dad, come on. This is totally unfair," Natalie protested.

Dean didn't move.

"You can't just toss me into a school, even if it is for a case! They're almost two months into the school year already!"

Dean didn't move.

"What if something happens in there, and I'm not armed?! You know they're not just going to let me waltz in there with a .45!"

Dean didn't move. Natalie finally realized what he was doing, and she knew any further protestations on her part would be a waste of breath. In her mind, she hemmed and hawed for a nanosecond, then gave in. She dropped her crossed arms, defeated. She looked at the ground and mumbled, "Yes, sir. I'll go." She bit her lip as the anger and frustration inside her head yelled at her for giving in so easily. But she knew she didn't have any other choice. She would always obey her father, when push came to shove.

"Good," came the gruff reply. She didn't want to look up, but out of her periphery, she saw Dean drop his arms as well. "Now you wanna tell me what this is really all about?" Natalie's head snapped up in surprise. Hadn't she just told him? Dean shook his head, as if he could read her mind.

"Look. I know you, kiddo. You're itching to get out on the field, and the more dangerous the case, the better. So what is it about this one that's got you spooked? Why don't you want to do this?" Dean asked, not unkindly. She looked down at the ground for another moment, kicking the cement floor.

"I just...the one school experience I ever had...well, it was the part of my life that's sucked the most so far," Natalie finally got out. She didn't want to look at him, ashamed of how she felt. Dean took a deep breath, his head tilting backwards. Of course.

"How could I forget Schoolgate?" Dean said with a bit of a chuckle. The corner of Natalie's mouth turned up a bit at hearing the old name. Her first week of kindergarten had been such a disaster that they had all nicknamed it "Schoolgate".

"Don't get me wrong- spending all that time with Pops was great- I really wouldn't trade it for the world. But god- I missed you and Uncle Sam so much. I can still remember what it feels like- missing you guys so bad."

Dean was unable to speak for a moment. He knew exactly what she meant. That year away from her was right up there with his forty years in Hell. He and Sam had tried to get home as much as they could, but with their jobs, it just wasn't always possible. He made damn sure he was there for every special occasion, every holiday, and every possible moment he could be. But there was always a small part of him that died all over again when he pulled away from that little face watching him leave out of Bobby's living room window. Even if Crowley hadn't come after her at Bobby's, Dean knew he would have pulled her from school anyways. There was no way he would have survived another year without her. He was just eternally grateful that she had taken to road life with such alacrity. It made all of their lives easier, knowing how happy she was, and how she flourished with Sam and Dean. She had always wanted to be a Hunter, and Dean reassured himself that training her for what was out there was better than keeping her in the dark. If something ever happened to him or Sam, he was going to be damned if he was going to leave his little girl unable to take care of herself. Now here was her first chance at a solo job, and even though he hated it, he knew she could handle it. The reasons why she was balking finally made sense.

"Look, squirt. I know that year did a number on you. Hell, it did a number on me too. But this is different. First off, I ain't going anywhere. I'm going to be texting and calling you so much you'll wish that I would just up and leave. Got it?" Natalie just swallowed hard and nodded. Dean exhaled, satisfied that she knew he wasn't going to leave her. "Alright, good. Second, this is just temporary. You're not being condemned to a year or even a semester. The second we solve this thing, we're busting you out." He took another pause, waiting for her to respond, but she simply nodded her head. Dean pursed his lips, wishing he could elicit more of an answer from her, but he needed to keep making his case. "Now, you always say that you want to be a Hunter. Why?"

"Because I want to save people, just like you and Uncle Sam do," she said, lifting up her head. He was encouraged by the passionate fire in her eyes when she said that.

"Exactly. And here's your shot. Kid, you're smart. You know we've got no other option except to send you in. Hell, if I could send your uncle in in drag, I'd do it."

"He'd look good in a sweetheart neckline."

"Point is, we need you. I don't like this anymore than you do, but something's in there, and we have to figure it out before it offs someone else."

Natalie sighed and stepped forward towards him, wrapping her arms around his stomach. He pulled her in, and rested his chin on top of her head. "I know," she said. "You're right. It's just..." She trailed off, not finishing her sentence.

"Just what?" Dean said, leaning back trying to get a look at her face.

"Why couldn't it have been like a haunted psycho ward, or a slaughterhouse with a vengeful spirit, huh? Why'd it have to be SCHOOL?" she whimpered. Dean snorted a laugh, and pulled her back in.

"Oh," he said, closing his eyes, really hating the next part of the news he needed to deliver to her. "I forgot to tell you..."

"What," she moaned, thinking that this couldn't get any worse.

"They have a very strict dress code. Your uniform is in the back of the Impala."

The thought provoking and imaginative string of expletives that Natalie let out in that moment would have made a nun faint.