Ladies Drink Free Part 1

Sam, Dean, Angela, and Grace were waiting, impatiently, in the British Men of Letters bunker.

"Mommy, I'm bored!" Grace whined.

"Grace," Angela warned. "You need to behave."

"All right, that's it. I'm waiting in the car." Dean muttered, looking down at Grace. "You wanna come with, Princess?"

"Yes please!"

"Dean, dude, wait a second." Sam stopped him.

"No. You know what? Getting jobs from these dicks is one thing," Dean started. "But I didn't sign up for this reporting for duty crap, especially when they're late."

"Sorry I'm late," Mick walked in as the door locked behind him. "My report to the home office ran long. We've had our hands full since…" he looked down at a bloodstain on the floor. "Well, best not to dwell on that."

"Wow." Dean scoffed. "That is some world-class repression. You are British."

"We prefer to call it a stiff upper lip."

"Okay, okay. Enough." Angela cut in.

"Mick, what's the deal with the bat signal?" Sam asked.

"There was an incident in Wisconsin," Mick handed Sam a gray folder. "A girl named Hayden Foster's in the hospital, and her brother lost his heart. Looks like a werewolf."

"Well, they don't usually leave behind survivors," Angela replied.

"Freak probably got spooked before it could finish the job," Dean muttered.

"Well, perhaps." Mick nodded. "But it usually takes more than a fright to put your average werewolf off his supper."

"Oh, you'd know that, would you?" Dean questioned.

"Actually, I would. I did extensive research into lycanthropy at Kendricks." Mick walked across the room and pulled two books from a cabinet.

"Kendricks?" Sam quirked a brow.

"The Kendricks School. It's where the British Men of Letters train their operatives. It's like our—

"Hogwarts?" Sam interrupted.

Mick placed one book on the table and handed one to Sam. "Exactly. Kendricks is the largest collection of occult lore in the world."

"Cool." Sam smiled slightly.

Sam looked to Dean and Angela enthusiastically, and Dean just remained unimpressed.

"So, when it comes to werewolves, I'm not entirely ignorant." Mick continued. "For example, we know that last night's attack didn't happen on a full moon. Therefore, we're looking for a pureblood."

"You think?" Dean scoffed. "It's like a milk run to me."

"Then you don't mind if I tag along?"

"Mick, um…" Sam trailed off. "Listen, I-I don't think… I don't think it's really your kind of thing."

"Oh, no, maybe it should be," Mick argued. "I had the best team, but most of us, we were thinkers, not fighters. And let's be honest—you, Angela, your mum, and Robert, you're the only reason I'm still alive."

"So, now you wanna be like us?" Dean asked.

"No. I just want to be ready for whatever's next."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, Angela, and Grace were in the hallway while Mick packed up the main room.

"Guys, he is dead weight, and you know it," Dean muttered.

"Look, Mick's inexperienced, sure." Sam nodded. "But these people have some serious knowledge."

"So? Dude, what we do, you can't learn this crap in a book. You put on a flannel, you pick up a gun, you go out there. Either you get good fast or you get dead faster."

"Well, we should at least give him a chance to learn." Angela shrugged.

"We're working with these people now and—and we're getting wins," Sam added. "We're saving people. The better they are, the better we are. Look, Mick held his own with the Alpha. Why not give him a shot? Maybe he'll come in handy."

"And what if he gets himself killed?"

"I heard that." Mick approached Dean.

"Good." Dean retorted. "If he's coming, you two are babysitting him."

~/~\~

The Impala sped down the dark road. Sam was shining a flashlight on the book Mick gave him whole Mick sat in the back seat with Grace, listening to a podcast on his phone.

"In Luther's 27th thesis, the word 'jingle' is an obvious nod to a canny 15th-century monk…"

"Daddy, this is boring," Grace complained.

"Gracie, don't be rude," Sam told his daughter.

"Had to let him listen to his podcast, huh?" Dean grumbled.

"Dude, it's educational." Sam retorted as Mick turned off the podcast. "And besides, I've been wanting to listen to this one."

"You know, monks like Martin Luther are among the earliest hunters," Mick commented. "He even wrote parts of that book you're holding."

"What?" Sam asked. "This lore dates back to the 16th century?"

"Yeah. Well, in Europe, everything's old." Mick shrugged. "Though we do have our fair share of new tricks for dealing with wolves—sulfate gas, silver nitrate lethal injection."

"Take a handful of silver bullets over any of that fancy crap," Dean muttered.

Mick sighed deeply. "Yes, well, thanks to that 'fancy crap,' Britain's last werewolf outbreak was in the '20s. We rooted them out, bitten and pureblood alike."

"Wait a second," Angela started. "You killed them all? Even the ones that weren't hurting anyone?"

"Sorry?" Mick frowned.

"I mean, werewolves aren't like most monsters," Angela replied. "Some can control it. I mean, we—we have a friend who got bit. Nothing but beef hearts ever since."

"And you trust him?" Mick scoffed. "Well, killing is a fundamental need for werewolves. And monsters don't just stop being monsters."

"Well, Garth did," Dean replied.

"Oh, turn here," Mick instructed.

~/~\~

Wisconsin

The Impala pulled in front of the 'Wild Elk Lodge.' Sam, Dean, Angela, and Mick got out of the car and Dean helped Grace out of her car seat.

"This place, uh, seems a little…" Sam trailed off.

"Shabby?" Mick finished. "Yeah. Three stars was the best I could do. Least our bean counters will be happy. Booked us all suites. Angie, you and Sam have your own, of course."

"Wait, you… We're in separate rooms?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, of course."

"Unca Dean, can we have a sleepover?" Grace asked excitedly.

"Hell yeah, kiddo." Dean nodded. "You say three stars?"

"Yeah." Mick nodded.

"So, we're talking fresh towels, little baby shampoos?"

"Uh-huh. And I believe there's a pool."

"Welcome, sir. Mm-hmm." The bellman opened the door.

"Cheers, mate." Mick smiled slightly.

Dean tossed the keys to Sam. "Get the bags. Let's go, Princess."

"Yay!" Grace beamed as she followed her uncle.

Sam grunted as he bobbled the keys while Angela just shook her head at Dean's antics. In the lobby of the hotel, Dean grabbed two fistfuls of mints and shoved them in his pocket.

~/~\~

The following morning, Sam, Angela, Dean, and Grace walked out of the hotel and stood outside.

"Thanks," Dean told the bellman. "Man. Those pillows, right? The little chocolates that they put on? I mean, I'm ruined. Those limey sons of bitches ruined me. Gracie and I even took a swim this morning."

"We didn't pack a swimsuit for Grace," Angela replied.

"We stopped by the store early this morning and got some," Dean replied. "Didn't we, Princess?"

"Yeah!" Grace nodded enthusiastically. "It was so fun!"

"What'd you two get up to?" Dean asked.

"I read through more of Mick's lore books." Sam shrugged.

"Really? Wow. Those three stars are wasted on you."

"Well, Sammy and I took advantage of our alone time," Angela smirked.

"Ugh." Dean wrinkled his nose.

"Baby…" Sam blushed slightly. "Anyways, listen to this. It's crazy. So, apparently, back in the '30s, they were working on this treatment for werewolves. This, like, blood therapy."

"Plasma therapy," Mick corrected as he joined the hunters. "Useless, I'm afraid. So, how were your accommodations?"

The Impala's engine could be heard purring as the valet pulled up to the front of the hotel.

"I've had a better night's sleep in my baby," Dean replied. "Get in. Let's go." He added before leaning over to Sam and Angela as Mick got in the car. "Not gonna give him the satisfaction."

~/~\~

A nurse was inside of Hayden's hospital room and Hayden's mom was at her bedside. Sam, Dean, Angela, Grace, and Mick approached the entrance to the room. The nurse walked out and Mick went to enter the room.

"Wait, wait," Sam stopped him. "Let us. Talking to a grieving family, it's tougher than you think."

"Oh, I'm a quick study," Mick assured.

"Well, good for you." Dean retorted sarcastically. "Okay, stay here, keep watch. Anything comes up… I don't know, whistle."

"Gracie and I will stay out here with you, Mick." Angela offered kindly.

~/~\~

"Ms. Foster?" Sam asked as he and Dean walked into the room. "Sorry to bother you. Agent McVie. This is my partner, Agent Fleetwood. Um, we'd like to ask your daughter a few questions."

"She's sleeping." Mrs. Foster replied.

"We'll be quick. Promise." Dean assured.

"I said no." Mrs. Foster replied firmly. "Hayden needs her rest. She's…"

Suddenly, Mick entered the room wearing a white doctor's coat.

"Good morning," he started. "And how is our patient today?"

Mrs. Foster's brows furrowed in confusion. "I'm sorry. Who are you?"

"Dr. Buckingham," Mick lied easily. "Hayden's attending doctor, Dr. Markum, asked me to look in on her. Um, would it be okay to ask you just to step outside for a moment?"

"I, um… Of course, Doctor." Mrs. Foster nodded.

"Sure." Sam pursed his lips.

"Thank you." Mick nodded.

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, and Mrs. Foster walked out into the hallway. Angela walked up, carrying Grace.

"Sorry," Angela whispered to Sam. "Grace was getting antsy."

"I'm sorry, who are you?" Mrs. Foster questioned.

"Agent Finn," Angela flashed her badge.

"Here. Please." Dean handed Mrs. Foster a cup of coffee.

"Thank you," she replied sincerely.

"No problem."

"I'm sorry, about all that." Mrs. Foster apologized.

"Oh, please. After what you've been through, you have no reason to apologize." Sam comforted.

"I just—I don't even know what my kids were doing out there." Mrs. Foster shook her head. "You know, Hayden was supposed to be sleeping at her friend's house, and—and Ben…" she inhaled sharply. "I just keep thinking this is a nightmare, you know? That I'm gonna wake up. I'm just glad the FBI is here, not those crazies."

"Crazies?" Angela quirked a brow.

"Bigfoot truthers." Mrs. Foster elaborated. "Calling, sending e-mails. They thought Hayden was… Like I said. Crazy."

"Huh," Dean muttered.

"Some girl even came by here saying she was from Fish and Wildlife Service." Mrs. Foster scoffed. "Barely as old as Hayden. I mean, like I'm gonna by that."

"You remember what she looked like?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah. Blonde. Bad attitude." Mrs. Foster recalled. "I actually—I have her card right here."

"Thank you," Angela replied as she took the card.

Mick walked out of the room, joining everyone in the hallway.

"Is she…" Mrs. Foster trailed off.

"Wound's healing up nicely." Mick nodded. "Nothing too serious."

Mrs. Foster sighed in relief. "Oh, that's so—Thank you so much."

"Pleasure," Mick replied. "Excuse me."

Mrs. Foster nodded and went back into Hayden's room.

"Doc?" Dean asked sarcastically.

"So?"

"What Hayden bit?" Angela asked.

"No." Mick lied. "No, she's a lucky girl."

"Good. What about, uh, Fish and Wildlife Service?" Sam asked. "Think it's another hunter?"

"Who do we know that's young, blonde, and pissed off? I'm betting it's Claire." Angela replied.

~/~\~

Claire was texting Jody when suddenly one of her cell phones started ringing from inside her car. She eagerly rushed to answer it.

"Hello? Uh, this is Agent Beatrice Quimby."

"Oh, thank God," Dean replied in an exaggerated Canadian accent. "There's a bear. It's the size of a freakin' tank!" he exclaimed. "I think it wants my pic-a-nic basket!" he imitated Yogi Bear.

"Mm-hmm." Claire rolled her eyes. "Hi, Dean."

~/~\~

Everyone sat in the lobby of the Great Elk Lodge. Grace sat next to Claire on one couch while Sam, Dean, and Angela sat across from them.

"So, Fish and Wildlife?" Dean quirked a brow. "Really?"

"Claire, what are you doing here?" Angela sighed heavily.

"Same as you," she shrugged. "Werewolf case."

Mick approached and placed four beer bottles on the table. "Now. Beers all around."

"Who are you?" Claire eyed him.

"Oh. Mick Davies," he reached out and shook Claire's hand before he sat down. "Men of Letters. British."

"Long story." Dean rolled his eyes. "And, like, 'Downton Abbey' boring, so…"

Claire leaned forward and reached for one of the beers. Dean leaned forward and snatched it from her.

"No. Unh-unh."

Claire huffed in annoyance. "Okay. Anyway… I've been on this a day. And guess what? The girl, Hayden? Her story about what happened the night of the attack? One big lie."

"Her mom said the same thing." Sam nodded.

"Where was she?" Angela asked.

"She was at the local dive bar, getting' trashed. I tracked her phone and asked around, and… Bartenders love me. It's a gift."

"Right," Sam muttered. "You get anything else?"

"The guy I talked to was a scumbag." Claire scoffed. "Tribal tat, motorcycle, grabby."

"Grabby?" Dean asked protectively.

"I'm a big girl. I handled it."

Mick stood up and set down his beer. "Right. Think I'm gonna call it a night."

"D-dude," Sam checked his watch. "It's 5:30."

"Yeah, but my report's due at 6:00 sharp. All work, no play." Mick shrugged before turning to Claire. "Nice to meet ya."

Claire watched as Mick left and snorted lightly. "So, your foreign exchange student is totally lame."

"Yeah. He's Sam's best friend." Dean replied, earning a deep sigh from his brother. "They're like nerd soulmates."

"Anyway, why are you alone?" Sam changed the subject.

"Jody's busy with sheriff stuff," Claire replied. "And she said to call if I found anything."

"So, you called her?" Angela asked.

"You called first." Claire retorted. "And she's great, by the way. And so is Alex. So, should we go to the morgue?"

"Take it easy, Clarice. Morgue's closed." Dean replied.

"By the way, when's the last time you had a hot meal that didn't come from a Gas-n-Sip microwave?" Angela asked.

"Not that there's anything wrong with that," Dean muttered.

"It's been a while," Claire admitted.

"Well…" Dean handed Claire a menu. "Go nuts. It's on, uh, Harry Potter."

Claire laughed slightly. "Cool."

~/~\~

Sam, Dean, Angela, Mick, Claire, and a doctor were in Hayden's hospital room, while Grace sat on the other side of the curtain so that she wasn't looking at Hayden's body.

"Thanks for coming by so quickly," the doctor started. "Mrs. Foster gave us your number."

"You have any idea what happened to her?" Dean asked.

"Autopsy's tomorrow, but it could be an arterial embolism, cardiac arrest."

Angela's brows shot up. "A heart attack at her age?"

"It gets weirder," the doctor pursed his lips. "When we admitted her, she had defensive wounds to her arms. Now…" he pulled back the white sheet to expose her arms. "They're gone."

Suddenly, the doctor's cell phone started ringing and he took it out of his pocket.

"Just, uh, give me a second."

"Sure." Sam nodded as the doctor left.

"Okay… what the hell?" Claire asked.

"You checked Hayden out," Dean turned to Mick. "Did you notice anything weird?"

"No, but, uh, the girl could've had internal injuries or…"

Angela eyed Mick slightly, sensing that something was off with him.

"But somehow, her external injuries all healed? No way." Sam shook his head. "This is almost like, uh… You know, what if she turned?"

"What, like, 'wolfed out' turned?" Dean asked.

"Explains the whole Wolverine healing factor thing." Claire shrugged.

"Yeah, no, but that'd be crazy because that means she would've been bit. And Mick here says that that didn't happen." Angela replied, looking over at Mick. "Right?"

Mick swallowed nervously. "Uh… Uh, no, not—not that I saw."

"Are you 100-percent?" Sam questioned.

"Unless I made a mistake," Mick muttered.

"Hell of a mistake." Dean scoffed.

"Dean…" Sam warned.

"No, I told you guys we shouldn't have dragged him along. I told you!" Dean snapped.

"Don't!" Claire exclaimed. "Whatever got Hayden is still out there."

"Claire's right." Angela nodded. "Let's say the night of the attack, wolf ices big bro, chomps down on little sis, and then… poof, vanishes? Does that make any sense?"

"Maybe he let her go," Sam suggested.

"On purpose? Why?" Claire asked.

"Perhaps he didn't want her dead," Mick answered. "He wanted her turned."

"Right." Sam nodded. "Which means this wasn't random."

"Which means it would've been somebody who knew her." Dean deduced. "Friends, family."

"Or someone from the bar," Claire added.

"Okay," Dean pursed his lips. "All right, Sam, you and Claire, you go talk to the girl she was supposed to be crashing with, and me, Angie, and amateur hour will hit the bar, see what shakes loose."

~/~\~

Sam and Claire were sitting in the front of her car while Grace sat in her car seat in the back. Claire was fishing around and pulled her headphones from the back seat.

"So…" Sam sighed. "Really? Things are good?"

"Yeah," Claire placed her headphones around her neck. "They're awesome."

"Really? You sure?"

"Dude, take the yes."

Sam sighed again. "Okay."

"So, you wait here," Claire told Sam.

"What?" his brows furrowed.

"Sam, no offense, but who do you think the kids are gonna wanna talk to? Me, or some old skeezer?" Clair asked, earning an offended look from Sam. "Exactly. Be right back."

Claire got out of the car and walked toward the high school.

"Skeezer?" Sam muttered to himself.

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, and Mick were walking along the sidewalk toward the bar.

"What happened back there…" Mick broke the tension. "My mistake, it won't happen again."

"Better not," Dean replied.

Mick went to open the door but pulled his hand back, sighing.

"Problem?" Angela quirked a brow.

"The old carpal tunnel," Mick muttered.

Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Well, allow me, your lordship."

"Thanks."

Dean opened the door and he, Angela, and Mick walked into the dingy bar. The bartender was unpacking bottles of alcohol from a box.

"Howdy," Agent flashed his FBI badge. "Agents Strummer and Finn. This is Agent Val."

"Uh, hi," the bartender replied.

Mick placed his phone on the bar, which had a picture of Hayden on it. "Do you recognize this girl? She was here three nights ago."

"Yeah. Not really."

Angela eyed the bartender. "Yeah, I'd lie if I served underage girls, too."

"Look, I…" the bartender sighed. "I really need this job. I… She started coming in a few weeks ago after Conner got hired."

"Conner?" Mick asked.

"Yeah, the other bartender. They're having a thing."

"What kind of thing?" Dean questioned.

The door opened and a man in a white t-shirt walked around the bar. He had a large, tribal-type tattoo on his neck.

"Ask him." The bartender shrugged.

"Hi, Conner," Dean greeted. "Oh. Nice ink. So, you like high school girls, do you? Hmm? You get older, they stay the same age. Is that it?"

"That's not how it was." Conner sighed heavily.

~/~\~

Dean, Angela, Mick, and Conner were sitting at one of the bar tables.

"Oh, so you weren't dating Hayden Foster?" Mick asked.

"Dating?" Conner scoffed. "No, I let her in from time to time. She is stupid hot. Okay? But that's it. I swear."

"And the night she got attacked, did you let her in that night, too?" Angela asked.

"Look, I don't know what happened," Conner replied. "I was behind the bar the whole night. I didn't even see her leave."

"Hmm," Dean hummed. "And then what'd you do?"

"Guess I went home." Conner shrugged.

"You guess?" Angela raised her brows. "Well, it's a simple question, Conner. I ask what you were doing, then you tell me. For instance, what were you doing last night?" she turned to look at Mick.

"Me?" Mick frowned.

"Yeah." Angela nodded.

"Oh, I was writing my report."

"And then?"

"Well, I watched an episode of 'The Great British Bake Off' and went to bed." Mick shrugged.

"See?" Angela looked back at Conner. "Simple."

"I went home, lady," Conner replied defensively. "And I didn't do anything to that girl, okay?"

"Yeah. Well, we'll see." Dean got up before he turned back toward Conner. "Oh, one more thing. Um… Did you happen to meet a, uh, blonde girl the other night? About yay high. Feisty?"

"Yeah, yeah. Said she was Hayden's cousin." Conner nodded. "Crazy bitch threw a beer at me."

"Huh. Well, from what I heard, you earned it."

"What are you, her dad?" Conner scoffed. "Dude, come on. Girls like that?"

"Yeah," Dean pursed his lips. "You ever touch her again, I'll break your face."

Dean, Angela, and Mick left the bar and walked down the sidewalk.

"Nice work in there," Angela looked at Mick.

"Thank you. Yeah, that alibi—

"I almost bought it." Angela interrupted.

"Sorry?" Mick frowned in confusion.

Angela and Dean stopped walking and they both turned toward Mick, stopping him in his tracks.

"See, here's the thing about 16-year-old girls," Dean narrowed his eyes. "Especially 16-year-old freshly minted werewolf girls—they don't just die."

"And you've been acting sketchy all day," Angela added.

"Oh, I don't know what you're talking about."

Angela grabbed Mick's shoulder and squeezed hard.

"Oh!" Mick groaned in pain.

"What did you do to her?" Dean demanded.

"I did what needed to be done," Mick replied vaguely.

"And that means?" Angela pushed on the wound harder.

Mick grunted in pain. "Last night, I injected her with silver nitrate."

"So, you killed her?" Angela glared.

"Well, she attacked me." Mick defended. "She tore up my shoulder. And… I had orders."

"You had a choice." Dean sneered.

"Did I?" Mick asked. "Killing monsters is what we do. Or maybe palling around with demons and witches, you've forgotten."

Angela clenched her jaw and pushed Mick back against a railing. "Don't tell us how to do our job."

"Angie," Dean attempted to pull her back.

"Well, then do it." Mick snarled.

"You think it's that simple, huh?" Angela growled.

"I really do."

"Yeah? I used to think the same thing." Angela retorted. "Well, here's a little tip. Things aren't just black and white out there. All you have is a case in front of you, like Hayden. A few months ago, there was this kid, this psychic. She was killing people, but she didn't mean to hurt anyone. She was being abused. So, we gave her a second chance because it was the right thing to do."

"Well… that's your luxury. We have a code."

"Well, now Hayden's mom, she gets to bury two kids instead of one, thanks to you and your code," Dean told Mick. "Nice work."

Dean and Angela walked away from Mick, who grimaced and sighed heavily.

~/~\~

Claire walked away from the high school and Sam was leaning against the car as she approached.

"I was kidding before," she started with a smile. "But you really do look like a creeper."

"Funny." Sam retorted sarcastically. "How'd it go?"

"BFF found. Beans spilled." Claire replied. "Hayden was hooking up with this older guy on the DL, and she was really into him, but he was a total stalker. Texting constantly, ultra possessive. Skeeved her friend out so much she narc'd to Hayden's brother."

"Guess that explains why he was there."

"I did good, right?" she asked as she walked around the car and opened the driver's side door.

"Claire, why does Jody think you're in Madison looking at colleges?" Sam asked.

"You called her?" Claire's eyes widened slightly. "Did you tell?"

"No. Not yet. But why are you lying to her?"

Claire closed the door and sighed heavily. "Look, I-I know, okay? I know how much I owe Jody. But we tried the whole hunting thing, and I just ended up sitting in the car while she does everything."

"Guess she's taking it slow." Sam shrugged.

"She wants me to be normal, go to nursing school like Alex," Claire muttered.

"Did she actually say that?" Sam raised a brow.

"She doesn't have to. I'm better off on my own. This way, everybody's happy."

"Claire, Jody's not gonna be happy when she finds out," Sam warned. "And if something happened to you…"

"I'm careful!" Claire snapped.

"You need to tell her the truth."

"You know what? Screw you." Claire glared. "I'm so sick of you guys dive-bombing my life, pretending like you care."

"We do care," Sam assured sincerely.

"Then stop treating me like a stupid kid!" Claire yelled.

"Then stop acting like one." Sam retorted.

Claire clenched her jaw and walked away. Sam shook his head, immediately regretting his choice in words.

"Claire…"

A/N: Hey, y'all, I hope you liked this chapter! I know it's a long one, lol. Love you guys, xoxo :)