Summary: Charlie goes on a solo hunt and ends up in over her head. The Winchesters come to her rescue, and Charlie learns the hard way just how serious Dean takes protecting those he cares about. Warning: contains disciplinary spanking.

Author's Note: This is written in the same semi AU as my story And Krissy Makes Three. It grew out of s comment Charlie made in Chapter 10 of that story about how she had reason to know just how hard Dean's right hand is. You don't have to have read that story to enjoy this one. I just hope I haven't written anyone too out of character.

If you like what I've written (or if you have constructive criticism), please post a review or send me a message.

YOU SHOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER, CHARLIE

Charlie stepped out of her car onto the weed strewn driveway leading to the house that was quickly moving from abandoned to dilapidated. She pulled her duffel from the trunk and stood, studying the house.

A newspaper story about the ghost that supposedly inhabited the house had caught her attention. Now that she was there, she thought that if ever a house was haunted based on its appearance, this one would be it. There were several broken windows, and more than one of the shutters was barely clinging to the house by one corner. The porch looked like it was about to cave in, and the front door stood open. She wouldn't have been surprised if she found that some of the local wildlife had taken up residence in the structure.

Charlie dropped her duffle on the closed truck lid and opened it to check the contents. She had a box of matches and a bottle of lighter fluid as well as a super soaker water gun that was filled with a high salinity OPsolution. Her research had indicated that ghosts were vulnerable to salt, and this was the easiest way she could think of to use it as a weapon.

The few times she'd ended up hunting monsters with the Winchesters they had been after something other than a ghost. So, while she'd picked a thing or two up from them, she really didn't know much about ghost hunting. She hadn't wanted to ask for information, as she knew that, although they'd never actually told her not to hunt, they wouldn't be happy with her. Charlie had had to remind herself that the Winchesters were her friends and really didn't have any real authority over her. At the same time, though, she couldn't stand the thought of having them disappointed in her. She was sure they wouldn't approve of what she was about to do, so she hadn't wanted to ask questions to tip them off as to her plans.

Charlie mentally shook herself and turned her attention back to the job at hand. Not for the first time, she wished hunting was more magical or like the live action role play she indulged in when she had the opportunity. But, when she'd read the story about this house and how the suspected ghost prevented anyone from living in it for longer than a few months, she felt compelled to do something about it - especially since the last person who had tried to live in the house had been an older woman who had died of a heart attack. The article hadn't come out and said it, but the implication was that the woman had been frightened to death. Sure, she could have called Sam and Dean, but she had an urge to handle it herself. So, she'd done some additional research, and here she was.

She gripped the water gun in one hand and hefted the duffel bag from the trunk of her car with the other. She approached the house and carefully picked her way across the porch. She tested each board before she put her full weight on it, and winced when a few of them gave way under the slight pressure. She hoped the interior of the house was in better shape.

The stories Charlie had read about the house had speculated that the ghost was the widow of a civil war soldier who had died in battle. Some said he had been a Confederate soldier killed at Gettysburg, while others had speculated that he had been a Union soldier who'd died in the Battle of Sailor's Creek just days before the final battle at Appomattox Courthouse. The story wasn't any clearer as to his widow. Some speculated that she had hung herself in the stairwell after hearing of his death. There was one story that said that she'd stabbed herself through the heart with a letter opener while sitting in the front parlor. Either way, the general consensus was that she was behind the strange happenings that scared anyone who tried to live there away from the house.

She pulled her notebook from her duffel and flipped through her notes. The ghost was known to appear on the front stairway. There were also stories of objects being thrown through the air, mainly in the front parlor, and doors being slammed throughout the house.

From her research, Charlie knew that she had to find either the object that was holding the widow's spirit in the house or her remains and then salt and burn them. She thought she'd start with a walk through the house to see if she could spot anything that jumped out at her as a cursed object. If that didn't work, she'd go in search of the widow's remains. She didn't think it would be that difficult to put this woman to rest.

Charlie hadn't moved ten feet into the house before she felt a cold breeze pass over her. It startled her, as the day had been overly warm. She thought about the EMF meter that she'd put into her bag and briefly thought about going back to get it. She decided that she'd complete her first walk through of the house without any equipment in order to get a feel for what she was dealing with without any mechanical interference.

She regretted that decision quickly, though. She moved further into the house and barely managed to duck when something came flying toward her head. She looked around and spotted a thick book lying against the wall behind where she had been standing. Ignoring the warning in the back of her mind that she was getting in over her head, she continued to explore the downstairs rooms of the house. Her courage was bolstered when nothing further happened.

Returning to the front of the house, Charlie decided to check upstairs before moving to the outside. She was halfway up the stairs to the second level when she suddenly had to grab the banister to keep from falling backwards as something hit her in the chest. She looked around as she struggled to regain her balance but she didn't see anything.

She released her grip on the banister only long enough to turn around and sit down on the stair tread. The hair on the back of her neck and arms raised as she felt something brush by her. She had left her water gun and EMF detector with her duffel near the entrance, and she now regretted that decision.

She was considering rising back to her feet and making her way back to the front door when she felt a blast of cold air surround her and something hit her in the back between her shoulders. It nearly knocked her over. She knew she had to get out of there before things escalated even further.

She did the only thing she could think of and scooted down to the next step, since she didn't want to make herself a bigger target by standing. She paused for a moment to see if whatever was in the house would react. When nothing happened she continued to the next step.

Charlie was only a step or two away from being able to slide down to stand on the hardwood floor of the vestibule when the front door opened. She froze and held her breath, waiting to see what was going to happen. She watched as first Sam Winchester, stepped through the front door and was followed closely by Dean. She wasn't sure she should be relieved to see them or not.

Sam stopped in his tracks the moment he spotted Charlie sitting at the bottom of the staircase. It took Dean less than a second to figure out what had caught his brother's attention.

"Dammit," he said under his breath. "I told you someone was here, and that car hadn't just been left here." He slapped Sam lightly in the chest in a silent "I told you so". Turning to the woman in question, he demanded, "what the hell are you doing here, Charlie."

Charlie swallowed hard. At that moment, she didn't know which she'd rather face - whatever had been attacking her or Dean Winchester. She could tell he was rather unhappy to have found her there and was growing more unhappy by the second. She rose to her feet and immediately ducked as a vase from a nearby side table flew toward her head.

Dean nodded toward the duffel he'd spotted near the front door. Sam moved to retrieve it as Dean moved toward the staircase.

"Um, hi," Charlie said hesitantly as he reached the bottom of the staircase. Her greeting was far less enthusiastic than it usually was. She quickly moved down the remaining steps to stand beside him. She swallowed hard at the glare he gave her as he stepped closer to shield her body with his own and usher her out the door that was held open for them by Sam.

Once they were out on the porch, Dean grabbed Charlie by the arm. Without saying anything, he dragged her off the porch and to the Impala.

"I'm not going to ask you again. What are you doing here, Charlie," he demanded as he released his hold on her and crossed his arms over his chest.

Charlie swallowed hard. She'd seen Dean angry, but never this angry and never at her. "Hunting a ghost," she said in a tentative voice.

"Are you asking me or telling me?" Dean questioned, his voice was still hard.

"Telling you." Charlie's voice was more sure this time. However, she couldn't help but cringe when Sam stepped into her line of sight and held up the super soaker.

"Just what were you planning on doing with this?" His voice, too, was harder than she'd ever heard directed toward her.

"Um, it's filled with salt water," she explained, hoping they would drop the subject.

"Salt water?" Dean was incredulous. "Just what were you planning on doing with that?"

Charlie bristled at his comment. "I know that ghosts are deterred by salt. I didn't have any salt bullets, or whatever it is you guys use, so I improvised."

"You improvised?" Sam repeated. "Didn't the fact that you didn't have the right equipment make you stop to think that maybe you shouldn't have been on this hunt?" His voice had taken on an even harder edge, and it sent a shiver down her spine.

Charlie shrugged. "I didn't think it would make that much difference. After all, it shouldn't have been that difficult or …" She stopped herself from finishing her sentence, since she knew exactly how it was going to sound.

"Or what?" Dean demanded in a voice that clearly indicated that he expected to be obeyed.

"Or that dangerous," she said in a barely audible whisper.

"Really?" Dean commented dryly. "And just why was that?"

Before she could respond, Sam picked up the line of questioning. "Let me guess. You read the stories about the Civil War Widow who is supposed to be hunting the house."

Charlie nodded. The fear and stress of the past twenty minutes or so were starting to sink in, and she began shaking. Sam sighed and enveloped her in his arms and drew her against him. He held her as she took several deep breaths trying to calm her nerves.

Dean had plenty more he wanted to say, but he decided it could wait until later. They needed to get Charlie calmed down and take care of business. Then, they'd go back to the motel and discuss his thoughts on the matter in more detail.

After a few minutes Charlie pulled away from Sam and wiped her cheeks dry. "So, not that I'm not thankful, because I am. But, why are you here?"

Dean snorted. "That ghost you were hunting?"

"Yes?"

"It ain't a ghost," Dean paused to make sure he had her attention. "It's a poltergeist."

"It's a what?" She asked, confused.

"A really nasty spirit with a hard on toward women," Dean replied. He ignored Sam's glare for his language and crossed his arms over his chest. "Do you understand how close you came to being seriously hurt?" he demanded. "Because I don't think you do."

Charlie's pale skin went even paler when the implication of his words registered. "The last person who tried to live in the house died of a heart attack. I assumed that since she was older, she just couldn't take the stress from the ghost."

"That's what happens when you don't dig beyond the surface for your information, Charlie," Sam commented. "You make assumptions."

"And assumptions can get you killed," Dean picked up the thread of conversation. "Yeah, the old lady died of a heart attack, but it wasn't just from being frightened to death. The butter knife impaling the middle of her back might have had something to do with it. Not to mention the fact that when they found her all the doors and windows were locked from the inside."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh," Dean responded sarcastically.

"Charlie," Sam drew her attention away from the bare dirt she'd been studying. His voice was less harsh, but it still carried a note of authority that she couldn't ignore. He waited until she lifted her gaze to his before he continued. "When researching for a hunt, you have to dig beneath the surface. The truth is rarely as easy as it seems. The popular stories about the ghost of the Civil War widow are just that - stories."

"We saw those newspaper articles and stories on the websites, too. But, I checked the records for the property. This was vacant land until the house was built in 1900 by a doctor and his young wife, both of whom were born after the Civil War. I also went to the library and looked into the local history. Do you know what I found?" He paused to give Charlie a moment to digest his words.

She shook her head, but she wasn't sure whether she wanted him to continue or not. She was embarrassed by how badly she had messed up on her first hunt that she hadn't been pulled into by the two men standing in front of her.

"I found a journal that had been donated to the library. It had been kept by a midwife in the area. She had been called to the house by the housekeeper to assist with the birth of the woman's first child. Apparently, the doctor was nowhere to be found when she went into labor. The birth didn't go well and both the woman and her baby, a little girl, died. The doctor didn't show back up until some time the next day. Apparently, he had been with his mistress. Coincidentally, she had also gone into labor that night and had given birth to a healthy baby boy. He moved his mistress and son into the house less than a month after his wife died."

"That's so tragic," Charlie commented as she wiped tears from her cheeks. "No wonder she's haunting the house."

"Yeah," Sam said a little ruefully, "I can't say that I blame her either. Anyway, her activity has gotten more and more dangerous over the last century. She started out with just generally haunting the house. Over the last few decades, reports indicate that she's evolved into a poltergeist who targets women of childbearing age. I haven't been able to find an explanation for why she killed her last victim, who was older."

"Why she did it doesn't matter," Dean commented as he straightened from where he had been leaning against Baby. "We're here to put an end to it."

"How?" Charlie asked. "You said she's a poltergeist, not a ghost."

"Salt and burn," Sam said as he moved to the back of the vehicle and popped the lid of the trunk. "According to the records, she was an orphan when she married the doctor and had no one to make sure she was properly laid to rest. She and the baby were buried in an unmarked grave somewhere on the property. We just have to find them."

"And how are we going to do that?" Charlie watched as he pulled two metal rods from a box in the Impala's trunk.

"Who said anything about 'we'?" Dean asked as he moved to tower over her. "I don't recall inviting you along on this one." He was still seething at the risks she'd taken with her life and wasn't sure he wanted to reward her by allowing her to join in the hunt.

Charlie glanced at Sam, who appeared to be having a silent conversation with his brother. She hated it when they did that. She always felt like she was being left out of something important. "If that poltergeist is after women, wouldn't I be safer with you?"

"You'd be safer if you took your little ass to the motel and waited on us there," Dean growled. His temper was starting to rise again.

"Dean," Sam said as he stepped between his brother and their friend. "Let's just finish this hunt, and we can deal with the rest later."

Dean studied his brother's expression and nodded once.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Charlie demanded. "And exactly what do you mean 'we can deal with the rest later'?"

"Exactly what he said," Dean replied shortly. "Now, do you want to help us with burning this bitch or not?"

"Yes, I want to help."

Dean nodded and stepped around her so he could reach into the Impala's trunk. He grabbed a shovel and a canister of gasoline and held them both out to Charlie. She accepted them before turning to Sam.

"You never did say how those rods are going to help you find their grave."

Sam held up the L-shaped rods and studied them for a moment. "These are divining rods. They're usually used to find water or gold under the ground. But, they can also be used to find wood or iron. I'm going to walk the property using these. Anyplace the rods cross, we'll mark. Then we go back and dig."

Charlie held out her hand for the rods. Sam handed them over and watched as she studied them. "And what happens if these things don't cross?"

"Then we'll move on to plan B," Dean commented as he closed the trunk lid.

"Which is?" Charlie asked.

"We'll figure it out when and if we get there."

XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX

About four hours later, Dean reached down to pull Charlie out of the grave she had just finished unearthing. Sam's dousing had located the grave at the far end of the property, and they had taken turns digging.

She dusted herself off as Sam took her place in the deep hole. He took the crow bar Dean handed to him and turned to the simple wooden coffin. He fit the prongs of the iron bar under the lid and pried it open. He systematically worked his way around the box until the lid could be slid off. Once the lid was removed, Sam climbed out of the grave.

Charlie looked down at what was revealed. The coffin was filled with a skeleton dressed in the remnants of a floral dress. The much smaller skeleton of an infant was cradled in her arms. Tears welled in Charlie's eyes and began rolling down her cheeks.

Dean handed her the gas canister. "Pour it over everything in the hole," he instructed. Once she'd done that, he picked up a branch that had fallen from a nearby tree. He pulled the lighter out of his pocket and flipped it open before lighting the branch on fire. He handed the flaming piece of wood to Charlie. "Toss it in."

Charlie stood at the edge of the open grave and hesitated. It had hit her that these were the remains of two people she was about to light on fire. It had been one thing to plan about burning their skeletons or even to talk about doing it. But it was another thing to actually do it. She glanced over at the two men who were watching her intently.

"It's harder than it sounds, isn't it," Sam asked as he stepped forward to take the torch out of her hand. He didn't hesitate before tossing it into the coffin. They watched in silence as the wood caught fire, the flames quickly spreading to consume the bones and fabric.

Charlie swiped at the tears that ran down her cheeks. This woman's spirit had evolved into a poltergeist who had killed one woman and had tried to injure, if not kill her, for the sheer fact that she was female and had entered the house. But, the remains they were watching burn had also been a living, breathing human being who had been treated horribly in life as well as in death. Charlie really couldn't blame her for being so angry. But, with her earthly remains destroyed, maybe her spirit could move on to whatever after life awaited them.

"Where do you think her soul will end up?" Charlie asked out loud to no one in particular. Her religious beliefs, such as they were, told her the baby's soul had gone to Heaven until it was time for it to enter this world again. But, she wasn't as sure about the woman's soul.

"I don't know," Sam responded quietly. "I just hope she finally finds some peace."

Later, once all that remained in the grave was smoldering ashes, Dean pulled the shovel out of a nearby mound of dirt and handed it to Charlie. "Start filling in the grave," he instructed. His eyes then met Sam's as he tilted his head to the side, indicating that he wanted to talk to his younger brother.

"What are we going to do about Charlie?" Dean asked in a quiet voice as soon as he felt they were far enough away that they wouldn't be overheard.

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and glanced over to where Charlie was working. "She did well on the hunts she joined us on, but I have no clue what she thought she was doing with this one. She was unprepared for it, both equipment-wise and research-wise." He shook his head in disbelief. "She's a bit impetuous, but this is too much, even for her."

"Yeah," Dean responded, "she was definitely in over her head. I don't even want to think about what could have happened if we hadn't shown up when we did." He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "That brings me back to my original question. What are we going to do about it?"

"What are you thinking?" Sam knew his brother already had something in mind, or he wouldn't have wanted to talk in relative privacy.

"It's gotta be something that's going to make her stop and think before she does anything this reckless again. I just don't know if I have the right to do it, though."

"Do what?" Sam asked a little impatiently, although he was pretty sure he knew what his brother was going to say.

"Spank her," Dean said with a sigh. He'd delivered a few spankings to his younger brother over the years when he'd done something too dumb or too dangerous to wait for their father to return from whatever hunt he'd been on and deal with it. But, this was different. This was Charlie they were talking about - their friend who was like the little sister they'd never had. His hand itched to light a fire on her backside, but he just didn't know if he should go there. Dean shook his head, forcing himself to turn his attention back to the conversation. He realized that Sam had said something and was waiting for him to respond. "What?"

Sam just shook his head. "I think you have every right to go there, and I also think she deserves it. You care about her and want to keep her safe, right?"

Dean nodded. He thought he might know where Sam might be going.

"And it's obvious she cares about us. Plus, she practically admitted she knew we wouldn't approve of what she was doing. I got the impression she expects some type of reaction from us, but she's not quite sure what that will be." Sam paused for a moment. "If you spank her, it won't be out of anger or for revenge, right?"

"Hell, no," Dean responded. "I'd never do that to her. If I do it, it'd be because I want her to learn from her mistakes and give her a reason to not do anything like that again."

Sam nodded and reached out to slap his brother on the shoulder. "I think that's your answer."

Dean thought about it for a moment and sighed. "Yeah, I guess it is." He glanced over at Charlie. She'd stopped shoveling dirt and was standing there watching them, probably trying to figure out what they were discussing. "We still gotta wrap this up. Why don't we take her back to the motel with us? I'll deal with it in the morning after we've all had a few hours sleep."

"Sounds like a plan to me," Sam responded as he turned on his heel and started back to the grave. Dean followed closely behind.

"That grave isn't going to fill itself," Dean commented as he took the shovel from Charlie and began pitching shovelful after shovelful of dirt into the grave.

Charlie stepped back and watched him work for a few minutes before stating, "you were talking about me, weren't you."

Sam moved to stand in front of her and crossed his arms over his chest. Dean paused shoveling to see how his brother was going to approach the situation.

"And what if we were?" Sam asked.

"Then I want to know what was said."

The two men shared a look before Sam replied. "We discussed how we wanted to handle you being mixed up in this …" he waved his hand to indicate the grave and the matter in general.

Charlie narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

Dean approached and handed the shovel to Sam, who took the hint and began taking his turn at refilling the grave. "What Sam means is that we're going to finish this and check the house to make sure the poltergeist is gone. Then, we're going to go to the motel and get some rest. In the morning you and I are going to have a serious discussion about you hunting solo and unprepared."

Charlie swallowed hard. Something about the way Dean had said that told her the discussion he had planned wasn't going to be a pleasant one.

"And if I don't agree?" Charlie didn't know why she had challenged Dean, but she hadn't been able to help herself.

"Take my advice, Charlie," Dean said as he took a step closer and used his height as an intimidation factor. "You don't want to test me. You won't like what will happen when you lose."

Charlie swallowed hard and took a few steps back so that Dean wasn't looming over her. She had a bad feeling about what was planned, and she wasn't sure she wanted any part of it. If nothing else, she thought, she should slip away while the Wichesters were checking the house or turn the opposite direction on the main road when they left. Let them cool off for a little while, then apologize and see if they would give her some training. She wasn't sure she wanted to hunt on a regular basis. But she knew she had a lot to learn, especially if this experience was anything to go by.

She was still lost in thought when Sam appeared in front of her and held out the shovel. "It's your turn, finish filling it up."

She glanced behind her at Dean. His expression was unreadable, but he was definitely watching her. She looked back at Sam and saw his expression was serious. She really wasn't sure what to make of that. Still, she grabbed the shovel and got to work.

As Charlie dropped the last shovelful of dirt onto the now filled grave, Dean approached and took the shovel from her. He grabbed the now empty gas canister in the other hand. "Come on, let's get this show on the road," he said as he walked off in the direction of the house. Sam dropped a companionable hand on Charlie's shoulder and gave her a little nudge to get her to follow Dean.

Charlie couldn't help but feel that Sam was making sure she didn't try to slip away as much as he was being companionable. She'd half expected Dean to be stern with her, but the way Sam was treating her was a bit of a surprise.

Once they reached the cars, Dean popped the Impala's trunk and returned the shovel and gas canister to their usual places and pulled out a bag. He set it on the vehicle's roof and began digging through it until he pulled out an EMF detector. He surprised Charlie by handing it to her before zipping the bag closed and returning it to the trunk. "Come on," he said over his shoulder as he headed toward the house.

The others followed closely behind. When they reached the bottom of the porch steps Dean stopped and turned to look at Charlie. "We're going in there to make sure the poltergeist is gone. You're going to monitor the EMF. But, if there's even a hint that she's still around, you're out of there. Got it?"

Charlie scowled at him, but she nodded in acceptance of his order. She started to step around him and mount the steps to the porch, but Dean grabbed her arm and stopped her.

"I didn't hear you," he stated in a hard voice that left no doubt about what he meant.

Charlie sighed. "Yes, I understand." She didn't bother trying to keep the note of impatience out of her voice. She was tired and wanted to get the opportunity to slip away so she could avoid whatever the Winchester brothers had planned for her.

She pushed past Dean and started up the steps to the porch. As she carefully crossed the wooden surface she heard a soft thump and Sam say "back off, dude," in a quiet voice. She didn't hear Dean's response before she pushed open the front door and stepped into the house.

Charlie couldn't put her finger on it but the house felt different somehow. She waited until the Winshesters stepped into the room behind her before turning on the EMF detector and stepping further into the interior. Sam and Dean followed behind her. "Do you feel it, too?" she asked, not looking over her shoulder.

"We didn't get that far into the house last time," Dean commented dryly. "But, yeah, I get what you mean."

Sam picked up the thread of the conversation. "I think our poltergeist is gone. The energy is definitely lighter." The three hunters moved through the house and didn't find anything to indicate the continued presence of the malevolent spirit.

Several minutes later, they stood by the Impala. Dean took the EMF meter from Charlie and put it back in its case. He slammed the lid of the trunk closed and turned to study Charlie.

She had to force herself not to squirm under his steady gaze. "I can't tell you how glad I am that you showed up when you did," she said in a voice the sounded a little shaky to her ears. She didn't miss Dean's eyes shifting to Sam and then back to her or the fact that Sam subtly moved to stand behind her. "I guess I'll … um … see you around. Maybe we can meet up again soon and you can give me another lesson about hunting spirits." She gave Dean what she hoped was a confident smile.

"Not so fast," Dean said with a note of authority in his voice. "You're going to give the keys to your car to Sam, then you're going to ride to the motel with me. We're all going to get some rest, and after that we're going to discuss just what you were doing here today."

Charlie bristled. She knew she screwed up with this hunt. She didn't need Dean or Sam or anyone else to tell her that. Plus, something in her gut told her that the discussion Dean was planning wasn't going to be a quiet, civilized conversation. "And if I refuse?" She knew she'd asked that before they'd gone into the house, but she couldn't help the defiance she felt at Dean's highhandedness.

Dean sighed heavily and rubbed his hands over his face. He was too tired to deal with this shit again, and he didn't want to do or say anything that would mess up their friendship. But, at the same time, he knew he'd rather lose her friendship than to see her dead because he hadn't stopped her from doing something foolish.

Sam easily read the situation and stepped forward to turn Charlie to face him. "Charlie, you know we both care about you, a lot. You're the little sister we never had. That's why we're both upset at the risks you took today."

Charlie started to say something, but Sam held up his hand. "Please, let me finish, then I'll give you the chance to respond."

She reluctantly nodded her agreement.

"You could have easily been seriously injured or killed here tonight. You have to admit that you were unprepared, both in terms of your research and in terms of your weaponry. That's not acceptable, and I think you know that. We need to talk about it. But, none of us are in any condition to do that right now. Let's go back to the motel and get some sleep, then revisit this when we're more rested." He looked expectantly at the woman standing in front of him. He wasn't sure whether he expected her to acquiesce or continue to fight them.

She studied Sam's serious expression before turning to look at Dean. His expression was even more stern than his brother's. "I guess if I try to leave, you'll just stop me."

Dean didn't bother to respond. He only crossed his arms over his chest and glared at her. Sam shook his head. "The only thing you'll end up accomplishing will be to get yourself in deeper trouble. I suggest you do as you're told."

Charlie sighed. "I left the keys in the ignition."

Sam gave her a sad smile and nodded his head in approval. Without saying anything else, he turned and walked to the car. He opened the door and bent down to move the driver's seat as far back as it would go before taking a seat behind the wheel. He turned the key and listened as the engine struggled to turn over and start. He watched his brother and Charlie through the rear view mirror, waiting for them to get into the Impala so they could leave.

Dean studied Charlie's face for a moment before moving to the passenger side of the Impala and opened the door. "Come on, Charlie. Let's head out of here so we can get some sleep."

XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX XxxxxX

When Charlie started to surface from a deep sleep she felt a momentary sense of panic. She heard movement in the room, and she wasn't quite sure where she was. She finally managed to get her eyes open and remembered she was in the motel room she'd shared with Sam and Dean. She was in one of the beds. Sam had taken the other while Dean had taken the couch.

She sat up in bed and spotted the two men sitting at the table in the living area of the slightly run down accommodations, drinking coffee and talking quietly. Since the conversation stopped once they realized she was awake and watching them, she suspected their conversation had been about her.

"Morning, Charlie," Sam greeted her as she climbed out of the bed.

"Morning." Her voice was sleepy as she grabbed the backpack she'd carried in from her car and made her way to the bathroom. As she passed the two men, she acknowledged Dean's statement that there was a pot of coffee on the counter of the room's kitchenette. They'd all been glad to find the small appliance available to them. Most of the rooms they stayed in didn't have that luxury.

Half an hour later, Charlie emerged from the bathroom. She was dressed in jeans and a tshirt. Her hair, which was still damp from her shower, had been piled on top of her head. She made her way to the kitchenette and filled a chipped mug with coffee. Normally, she drank her coffee with cream, but since none was available, she was willing to make due and drink it black as she desperately needed the kick from the caffeine.

She piled the pillows from her unmade bed against the headboard and settled in to enjoy the hot drink. She grimaced slightly at the first bitter taste. Remembering the Winchesters' comments from the night before about wanting to discuss her hunting, she had to stifle a groan when Sam rose to his feet and took a seat on the bed across from her. Dean followed him and sat on the foot of her bed.

"Charlie, you know how much we care about you," Sam started the conversation, repeating what he'd said to her the night before.

Charlie hesitated and took a sip of her coffee before she responded. She lowered the mug to her lap and nodded. "You're like brothers to me, too," she said softly.

"So now that we've got that settled, you want to tell us what made you think going after that poltergeist on your own was a good idea?" Dean questioned. The tone of his voice clearly said it hadn't been a request. "Because from what I can tell, you hadn't done your research, and you sure as hell weren't properly armed. A squirt gun filled with salt water? Really?"

"I thought I had enough information about the ghost, and I figured I could improvise with the salt," she responded in what she hoped was a contrite tone.

Both men just stared at her for a moment before Sam shook his head. "You didn't look beneath the surface. You've been on enough hunts with us to know things are rarely as they seem."

"I suppose," Charlie said softly. She wasn't sure where this conversation was going, but she was pretty sure that she wasn't going to like it.

"You suppose?" Dean echoed in a hard voice. He watched as she squirmed in her seat under his hard gaze. "You want to know what I think?"

"Not really." Her response earned her a glare from both men.

"Too bad," Dean answered shortly, "you're going to hear it anyway." He paused for a moment to gather his thoughts and to let Charlie stew. He wanted her off balance as he figured that would cause what he had to say to have more of an impact. "I think you found that same news article about that house that we did. Only, I don't know if you sought it out or if you just happened upon it." He shrugged. "Either way, it doesn't matter. What does matter is you got excited about the possibility of a hunt."

His gaze hardened along with his voice. "You did some half-assed research that probably confirmed the news story, and you decided that you had enough experience under your belt to take it on by yourself. Then, you decided to improvise your weapons because you didn't want to alert us to what you were doing by asking us."

"I didn't think … ," Charlie started to say, but Dean interrupted.

"You're right, you didn't think. Hunting is serious business. It's dangerous. People die when they aren't properly prepared. You've been on enough hunts with us to know that, haven't you?"

Charlie glanced up from where she'd been studying the hands resting in her lap and winced at the angry expression on Dean's face. She swallowed hard at the nearly identical expression on Sam's face. She didn't trust her voice not to come out shaky, so she nodded in response to Dean's question.

"No, I want to hear your answer. You were confident enough to take on that hunt knowing you weren't properly prepared and by yourself, so be confident enough to own up to it and accept the consequences," Dean directed.

A shiver passed down Charlie's spine. For the first time since she had met the Winchesters she was afraid of Dean. Well, she wasn't so much afraid of him as she was of what he might be planning to do. "Yes," she answered softly.

"Sammy." Dean's command in the single word was plain to the younger Winchester.

Charlie glanced between the brothers, confused when the younger one rose to his feet.

"I'm going to go get some food and give you two some privacy." He ignored Charlie's confusion as he grabbed the keys to the Impala off the nightstand that separated the two beds and headed toward the door. He turned to Charlie as he opened the door and said, "just so you know, Charlie, I fully back everything Dean says or does. You more than earned it." With that, he stepped through the door and closed it behind himself.

Charlie turned to Dean. "What did he mean by that?" She asked, confused by Sam's parting words.

It was Dean's turn to shift uncomfortably. Damn Sammy for leaving him alone to face this, he thought, even though that was the plan. Now that it was time to put Charlie across his knees, he wasn't sure he could actually go through with it. He took a deep breath and steeled himself for what came next.

"I want to make sure you stop and think next time before you rush headlong into a hunt and end up way over your head." He took the still half full coffee mug from Charlie's hand and leaned across her to set it on the nightstand. As he straightened he grasped her by the arm and pulled her with him. Before she realized what had happened she landed face down across his lap.

"Let me up," she demanded as she struggled against Dean's hold.

"I don't think so," he replied as he shifted her until she was bent over his left thigh with her torso resting on the mattress. He pinned her legs in place by resting his right leg against her calves.

"You can't do this!" She was desperate to get away from what she knew was about to happen.

"I hate disagreeing with you, Charlie, but I can and I am going to bust your ass." He landed a hard swat across the middle of her upturned backside, causing her to jump in surprise and let out a gasp of pain.

"You knew Sam and I wouldn't approve of what you were doing. That's why you didn't come to us about getting a shotgun and salt-filled shells." He continued to lay down punishing swats on her backside and sit spots. Charlie forced herself to remain quiet and not give Dean the satisfaction of hearing her cry.

However, the dam broke and she began sobbing when he said, "you put yourself in unnecessary danger, and that is something neither Sam nor I will ever tolerate. We care too much about you to lose you because you were careless." He delivered a dozen hard swats to the tops of her thighs, causing her to squeal at the burning sensation left in their wake, even through the heavy cotton of her jeans.

There was a hitch in Charlie's breath. "I'm sorry!" she cried as Dean continued to spank her. She was beginning to wonder if she was ever going to be able to sit down again due to the fire burning in her buttocks and thighs.

"Why are you sorry?" Dean asked as he rested his hand on the back of her right thigh. The palm of his hand was on fire, and he could only imagine how Charlie's ass felt.

Charlie took a shaky breath to calm herself so she could talk. "I didn't research the ghost story as thoroughly as I should have." She squealed when Dean rained a half dozen hard swats onto her sit spots.

"What else?" He demanded, again resting his hand on her thigh.

"I didn't have the right equipment," Charlie said softly, dreading Dean's reaction.

His response was just what she expected. Another half dozen swats fell on her backside. "And?" he demanded.

Charlie tried to rack her brain for what else she'd done wrong with this hunt. She was still trying to come up with an answer when Dean started spanking her again.

"What else, Charlie?" He once again paused in his assault of her ass.

"I don't know, " she cried in a voice that was barely understandable through her tears.

Dean grunted. "You do not hunt alone." A hard swat to her thighs punctuated each word.

He sighed and pulled Charlie up to sit on his lap. He wrapped his arms around her and held her as she sobbed against his chest. He rubbed circles on her back until she began to calm down and her tears slowed.

He felt like a bastard from having done that, but in his mind, he didn't have a choice. "Please don't make me have to do that again," he said as he tightened his arms in a hug and rested his chin on the top of her head. "But, I don't think I'd be able to handle it if something happened to you that I could have prevented. So if blistering your ass stops you from doing something carelessly stupid, you can bet I'd do it in a heart beat. And, fair warning, if I do have to repeat this lesson the spanking you'll catch will be far worse than this one. Am I understand?"

Charlie nodded against his chest.

" No, I want to hear your answer," Dean ordered.

She suddenly felt uncomfortable sitting on his lap like a child. She straightened away from his chest and shifted to move off his lap. Dean held her in place and looked at her expectantly. She still didn't answer him, but held his gaze steadily.

Dean signed. "You really don't want to test me right now, Charlie. Not on something like this. Now, you can either answer my question or go back over my knee for round two."

Charlie didn't know why she had resisted responding to Dean's question. It was high handed, sure, but he had acted out of concern for her. It had been a very long time since anyone had done that. She was still lost in her thoughts when Dean gave a low growl of frustration and grasped her by the arm to pull her to her feet as he could bend her back over his knee.

"No, stop," she pleaded. "I understand. I'll be more careful about my hunting in the future."

Dean nodded and released his grip on her, allowing her to shift off his lap to sit beside him on the bed. She winced as her painful backside made contact with the mattress.

She wiped at the tears that still dampened her cheeks. "Everything I did was by my choice. If I'd been hurt, it would have been my fault. You had nothing to do with it."

Dean just shook his head. "Sammy and I introduced you to this world. It's up to us to make sure you are smart about it and don't do anything stupid." He paused and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I wanted to make sure you stop and think the next time before you decide to go hunting.

Charlie gave him a watery smile and leaned her head against his shoulder to show him there were no hard feelings. "Do my research, make sure I have the right weapons, and no solo hunting- got it."

Dean grinned at her. "Why don't you go splash some water on your face or something. Sam should be back soon. I don't want him thinking I killed you."

"My backside thinks you did," Charlie said as she rose to her feet.

"Smart ass," Dean commented as he picked up a pillow from the bed. He threw it at her, hitting her in the back. He couldn't suppress his grin when she turned and stuck her tongue out at him. He hoped it meant that things were already back to normal between them.