Thank you for the reviews and follows and favorites on this little smutty story of mine. I'm glad people are enjoying it and I hope you continue too. Yesterday was by far the longest chapter and I know there are some grammatical errors that I'll fix shortly. Keep reviewing! It really makes my day to get those notifications :)

A week had passed since what Emily was now calling "the incident" and things had been rocky, to say the least. Sam had bought her a small tv, which he installed on top of her dresser, and she a good amount of her time holed up in her room, hiding from the brother's and wallowing in self pity and rage. Sam had tried his best to make peace with her, he'd been angry at Dean for the way that he'd handled the whole situation and Emily couldn't help but feel smug when she'd heard the fight they'd had over it, but he also told Emily later that evening that, in no uncertain terms, he would've done the same to her in the moment. Which meant Sam was also on her shit list. Emily truthfully didn't know what to feel about anything. She was emotionally wounded more then she was physically hurt, although sitting for first couple days following the spanking had been a challenge, she was angry at them for the way she was being treated, she was mad at herself for making stupid mistakes when she didn't know what she was dealing with, and more then anything else she was embarrassed. She didn't want to look Dean in the eye, and so she hadn't. She did her very best to avoid him, and it had worked for awhile. He didn't seem to care to see her either, which she didn't want to admit had kind of hurt her feelings, but he also wasn't spanking her anymore so she took what she could get. After a few days of her only coming out of her room only for meals, Sam had decided to step in again. He was determined to be nice to her and from there he'd taken every opportunity he could to take her around the bunker and show her stuff he hadn't before. Since she'd been interested in the badges, he'd actually brought the backpack of them into her room that afternoon and dumped it out so he could tell her stories about where they used them and what were the most effective covers. She'd blanched heavily at the sight of the police one she'd attempted to steal, but Sam had made a big joke out of it and pretty soon she relaxed along with him, laughing at their antics and the dumb things they'd done with some of them. He had just been telling her about the time they'd posed as FBI agents, not knowing that they were talking to actual FBI agents, when Dean had appeared at the door, looking down at them sprawled out on the floor with the badges around them. There was a knowing little smirk on his lips as he quirked an eyebrow to Emily teasingly, and she blushed and looked away angrily, letting Sam do the talking.

"What's up bro?" Sam stood, dusting off his jeans and then bending to start scooping the badges back into his bag. Emily stayed silent, moving to sit on her bed and pointedly ignore the older brother. "I was just telling Emily about that time in Witchita with the FBI agents," Dean laughed, the sound echoing through her room as he recounted it with Sam quickly, adding in his own details and pretty soon, they'd sucked Emily back in and she forgot her anger for a second as she watched them laughing and joking with each other, just like best friends would. Like family would.

There was a pregnant pause as Emily had stopped laughing and Dean seemed to recognize the shift, so he spoke quickly, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he leaned on the doorframe again. "Listen, we got some food that's gonna go bad if we don't use it soon, and I was thinking maybe you could cook tonight?" His grin was hopeful now and even Sam turned to her giving her what she could only assume was his version of puppy dog eyes. They'd done takeout almost the whole week since the incident neither brother wanting to upset the delicate balance and push the girl any further then needed. But the appeal of a homecooked meal seemed to change the whole mood in the house, and Emily sighed, recognizing this as a peace offering from Dean.

"Yeah, okay," she agreed, sliding off the bed and giving Sam a playful jostle in the ribs, "if Frankenstein here promises to quit looking at me like that." Dean let out a full belly laugh at the insult, clapping Sam on the back as he feigned hurt.

"Frankenstein, gold, pure gold," he was still laughing as he left the room, and Sam turned to Emily, slinging the backpack over his shoulder.

"I'm gonna get a round of Zelda in before dinner, just holler if you need anything," he smiled at her and ruffled her hair affectionately, which made Emily stick her tongue out at him playfully. It felt so good to let down her defenses, to laugh and joke around with someone who wasn't trying to get into her pants.

"I'm pretty sure you'd be more of a hinderance then a help," she teased and she left the room with him, heading to the kitchen as Sam headed back to his room. She paused at the living room, where Dean was sprawled on the couch, his feet up on the coffee table and a familiar bottle of beer balanced on his stomach while he flipped through channels. He saw Emily and grinned again, giving a fake salute but not saying a word, and she shook her head in response, leaving him to go see what needed to be used up in the kitchen that evening. There was a package of ground beef that's use by date was two days from now, so she pulled that out, and then looked at the sad looking produce strewn about the bottom shelf. That was probably what Dean had been talking about, so she pulled it out too, knowing exactly what she could make. She removed a few slices of bacon from the package they'd been using for breakfast, and a bottle of ketchup, and got to work.

"Mmmmm, meatloaf," Dean inhaled deeply at the scent of the meal, practically drooling when Emily had carefully carried it out and set it in front of the boys. "Sammy, do you remember the last time we had meatloaf? God, I can't. Hot damn." He rubbed his hands together and happily began dishing it up, along with the salad Emily had used the rest of the produce for. While he dished, Emily opened a nice bottle of red wine and poured them all a glass, for the first time in a week, actually happy to be sitting with them and sharing a meal. She'd been eating takeout in her room for the better part of the time she'd been there, so the change was nice.

They all dug in, Emily not bothering to hide how pleased she was as the boys complimented everything about the meal she'd prepared, Dean was eating like he'd never had a home cooked meal in his life, and Sam was moaning with almost every bite, which made them both laugh. She relaxed again, more quiet then she'd normally be, still unsure of her place with the brother's. Luckily, they filled most of the silence, teasing each other, talking about their dad and how bad his cooking had been when he'd been around, and she was able to sit back and just take it all in. She propped one slim leg up on the chair and held her wine glass between her fingers, sipping it contentedly as the meal drew closed. Dean wiped his mouth with his napkin and then tossed it on his plate and sat back, patting his stomach. "Well if that wasn't just the best goddamn meal we've had in ages," he made her blush and smiled at the sight of it. "So listen kid," Emily felt the mood shift slightly and she took a long drink of her wine before setting the glass down. "Sam and I got a job, it's in the next town over, nothing too big but we're gonna check it out and see if we can help."

Oh, well that was fine. Emily relaxed again, keeping her big blue eyes fixed on Dean's face, wondering why they were being so serious about something that sounded as small as this.

"Sammy and I have been talking about what to do about it, about jobs, I mean," he went on, glancing to Sam for backup. Sam nodded and Emily shifted her gaze.

"Well we, uh, we think you should stay here while we go," he said quietly, his kind face showing a hint of worry as if she were going to have some epic tantrum over it. And she just raised an eyebrow at him in slight disdain, did he know who she was at all? "It's just, you haven't had any training yet. We don't know exactly what we'll up against and we don't want you to get hurt."

The boys were startled when Emily let out a snort at the words, and Sam's brow furrowed, looking back to Dean wordlessly. "Oh, Sam," Emily sighed, she picked up her plate and Dean's along with it, carrying it to the sink. "I am perfectly fine staying here. I'm perfectly fine going with you. I am perfectly fine either way." Her voice was light, but the edge of danger lurked beneath it, threatening to surface. They thought she would get hurt? That wasn't how it worked. She returned to get Sam's plate, pausing between the both of them before she picked it up. She could see that Dean was very, very confused by this scene, he was staring hard at Sam like they were having some sort of wordless conversation between the two of them and she bent to stick her head between the two. "I just want to remind you both that I'm not a baby, I've spent twenty years going on hunts with my dad, and here I am, still alive. If you don't want me to go, then don't take me."

She straightened and took the plate to the sink to join the others, then sat back down with her wine and surveyed them coldly. They were still staring too, obviously thinking that she was going to put up some sort of big fight, But Emily wasn't stupid, she knew the opportunity was presenting itself to do some serious reconnaissance while they were gone, and of course she was going to jump at it. It really didn't matter to her what they decided, she could get something out of either option. "That's it? You guys mind if I use the gym before bed?" Sam seemed to be the only one capable of responding and he gave her a shrug and gestured for her to help herself.

"She's up to something," Dean said lowly, the moment that Emily had disappeared from their sight. "I don't know what it is, Sammy, but she's up to something. I don't trust her. Either way I don't trust her. Are we making the right decision? What if she takes off on us? I don't get it."

"She won't take off," Sam said confidently, pushing his chair back to stand, letting Dean follow. "We'll have the car, and she has no idea where we are. What's she gonna do? She has no family that we know of, and have you seen her try to contact anyone since she's been here? She has a phone, I saw it when I was putting up her TV, I looked through it while she was in the bathroom, and she has literally no contacts but Jack in it. It was virtually unused. It was...it was kind of weird," Emily didn't seem like the type to not have any friends, or at least acquaintances she could turn to in a pinch, but they didn't know her well. She was practically still a stranger herself. Still, Sam had insisted she program his number into her phone so she could call him anytime she needed. "I don't know Dean, I feel like this is the better option. We need to start training her, we cut her a lot of slack this week, but we're gonna keep finding ourselves in this position, trying to choose jobs or her. And what happens when we need to go across state? I mean, if you really feel strongly about it, we can bring her with and have her stay in the car or at the hotel or something?"

"Sammy, you're a genius!" Dean stood then too, clapping him on the back. "Why didn't we come up with that sooner? We'll just make her stay at the hotel. Then she can't go sneaking around like I know she's gonna do the second our backs are turned, but she won't be necessarily on the hunt with us either. It's...what's that stupid phrase dad used to say? Kismet!"

"Kismet," Sam repeated, sighing and running a hand through his hair. "Dean, you know she's gonna flip out at you for this. Imagine how you'd feel if you were told you had to stay locked in a motel while I went out and hunted, I think this is gonna be a mistake."

"Naw," Dean said confidently, clapping Sam on the back again before he headed in to clean up the dishes. "We know how to deal with it if there's resistance. I guarantee you just mention the word "belt" around her and she'll straighten up quicker then I can snap my fingers." He grinned at his brother sardonically, and Sam sighed again, muttering something that sounded a lot like it's your funeral under his breath as he retreated back to his room.

It turned out, Sam had been right. If he'd been expecting Emily to be as easygoing and helpful as she had seemed to be at dinner, Dean had been in for a very, very rude awakening. As he'd guessed, he wasn't wrong to be untrusting of the little vixen, when he'd knocked on her door later that night to tell her the new plan, Emily had been anything but accommodating. Sam could hear them screaming at each other all the way through the headset of his video game, there had been a lot of swearing and the sound of something being thrown and crashing to the floor, then the sound of hard smacking on bare flesh, and Sam had turned the volume back up on his game, shaking his head with a knowing sigh.

And that's where they still were the next morning, Emily sitting sullenly in the backseat of the Impala on a sore ass, her phone on her lap with head phones plugged in and music blaring through them. She had no intention of speaking to either brother, apparently she'd decided it was most definitely both of their faults that her plans had been ruined, and that was that. She didn't move the entire hour long drive to the little town, staring out the window with the same sullen look she'd come into it with. Dean looked back occasionally, muttering a bitter, "spoiled fucking brat," every once in awhile to punctuate his frustration, while Sam, wisely, chose to stay quiet and continued to research from the book in his lap until they pulled into a rundown little motel and Dean put the Impala in park. He unbuckled and got out, and Sam did the same, tucking his wallet into his pocket to help Dean with the ruse they'd come up with this time in order to get a discounted room. Dean reached over the headrest to yank a headphone out of Emily's ear and bark, "stay here, we'll get a room and come back and get you in a minute. Don't move a muscle." She had given him a sarcastic smile and raised her hand like she was about to wave at him, before flipping him off and putting the earbud back into her ear. Dean growled and his fists clenched instinctively, but he didn't cause a scene there, just slammed the door to the car and headed back in with Sam.

Emily was pissed, beyond pissed, she'd spent the whole hour plotting what she was going to do while the brother's were gone the night before, and now she was going to be stuck like an annoying little sister in one of these shoddy motel rooms with nothing to do but pout. Her plans for the library? Gone. Her plans for leaving the bunker to get a layout of where they were? Gone. Ugh, this fucking sucked. She turned the music off her phone and yanked her buds out, wrapping them up neatly and placing them on the seat next to her, watching Dean and Sam working whatever charm they thought they had on the unsuspecting motel clerk inside. She rolled her eyes and opened the door to the Impala, stepping out and stretching out her long legs, the sting in her butt from Dean's short hand spanking the night before finally beginning to dissipate, yawning lazily, before she took a look around. The town looked like most towns around here, dry and dusty, a few little stores peppering the street they were on, some residential places a few streets down. And bingo! A coffee shop sat on the corner directly across from where she was standing and she grinned. Coffee, yes please. She glanced back to see where the guys were at, and she could see they were still occupied, Dean was leaning over the desk and Sam was fishing in his pocket for something. Neither had glanced at her once. Well, grabbing a quick cup of coffee wasn't going to hurt anything, and without a second thought, she began the short walk across the street. The sign on the door read Cafe Nautical and it was decorated with the some cute touches as the sign suggested, sea glass, and little ships in bottles, and hearty sea rope. Adorable. Emily stepped inside and breathed in deeply, feeling her mood lighten considerably. There was a young, cute girl behind the counter who looked up as Emily stepped in and she seemed clearly taken back to see a face she didn't recognize, much less one that looked like Emily's, but Emily just gave her a dazzling smile and sauntered to the counter, looking up at the menu written in old timey English script above the girl's head.

"Mmmm, it all looks so good!" She made easy conversation with the teen, asking for recommendations, and chatting with her about "hot spots" in the town. The girl was clearly taken with Emily, she chattered on without pause as she made her a simple lavender and honey latte, telling her about where was good to eat, and then, bingo!, spilling about some local town gossip that told Emily exactly why the boys had taken this case. It seemed that some mysterious deaths had been cropping up near a local food bank, unexplained and very out of character for the tight knit community, and Emily listened in feigned rapt attention, pretending to be absolutely shocked by that news. "Well thank you so much," she gushed to the girl, taking the latte and a fresh blueberry muffin encased in a crisp white bag, "what do I owe you?" But the girl just blushed and stammered out that it was on the house, and Emily gave her another bright smile and in her most sincere voice returned "well aren't you just the sweetest thing, thanks girl," and flounced right out of the coffee house and back to the corner to cross the street. As the motel came back into view, Emily paused suddenly, taking in the scene ahead of her. The boys were outside of the Impala, Sam was on his cellphone and Dean was pacing back and forth, his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his leather jacket, a noted scowl across his face. It was Sam that caught sight of her first as she resumed the slow walk forward, still holding her coffee in one hand and the bag in the other, having the decency to at least look sheepish when she was close enough to hear Sam saying into the phone, "Damnit Bobby, never mind, here she is now...yeah, uh huh...yeah, you're absolutely right about that." He ended the call with a dark look in her direction, moving around to get to her before Dean could, though he was definitely not far behind.

"Emily, what the fuck?" His jaw was clenched tightly, his voice low and quiet so they wouldn't draw attention to them. He reached out to grab the bag from her hand, then used his other to grip her upper arm, pulling her towards them. Emily was taken back by the anger in his voice, he was always the calm one, and she suddenly lost the easy going bravado she'd put on earlier, her voice shakey as she answered him. "I was just going to grab a coffee, Sam..."

"Didn't we tell you to stay in the car? We thought you took off! Or something took you! Fuck Emily, you didn't even have your phone on you!" He was pulling her towards the motel again, and Dean fell into step beside them, not saying a word. That was almost as scary as angry Sam, but at the moment, Emily was just relieved that they weren't causing a scene in the parking lot. Besides, it was a motel room. What were they gonna do? The walls would be paper thin, and it wasn't like there was a lot of privacy, and feeling her confidence return somewhat, she took a sip of her latte and pulled her arm out of Sam's grasp as they got to the room and he fumbled to unlock the door, still lecturing her under his breath. She looked around again, taking long draws of the delicious hot beverage, purposely not looking at Dean, who she could feel was burning his glare into the side of her head.

"Relax," she told the pair as the door finally opened and they made it inside. "You guys were taking forever, I needed to pee, so I saw the coffee shop and walked over," the lie rolled easily from her tongue, it was second nature to make stories up on the spot, "listen, the girl working told me all about the mysterious stuff going on around here, and I think I can help-"

She was cut off sharply when Dean leaned over and plucked the coffee out of her hand, taking a long swig of it himself to her utter surprise. "Hey!" He ignored her, and sauntered over to the cheap set of dresser drawers, setting it on top before sprawling his long body out on the bed closest to the window and tucking his hands behind his head. Emily was left feeling very confused by the whole scene, she didn't know what she had expected when they got inside but it certainly wasn't...this. He had pulled out his phone at that point, utterly ignoring her, and Emily turned to ask Sam what was going on, and that's when she realized. They'd obviously talked about what was going to happen when they found her, and if Emily had any ideas about not being punished inside the motel room, they were thrown out the window as she watched in horror while Sam removed his jacket and began to roll up the sleeve on his flannel purposefully.

"Sam!"

Stopping here! I'll try to get another chapter up shortly. But oh man, oh man, the introduction of Sam.