Disclaimer: Supernatural and all related characters and themes are not my property and are played with here with grateful thanks to their creators.

A/N: this story occurs after the events in "Simon Said" and before "No Exit".


Six months later ...

Winter seemed to have suddenly arrived early along the East coast. Snow dusted the forest like icing sugar and the grey sky above the mountains was heavy with more. Along the shoreline ice gathered in folds in the high tide line and debris floated in the shallows.

Peering out of the passenger window and shivering involuntarily, Sam shook his head slowly. "Weird."

"Huh?"

Turning to his brother, Sam's frown grew and he sighed wearily. "This time yesterday, it was like hurricane season." He moved his gaze back out before them and took in the broken branches and fences that littered the edge of the road. "Weird."

"And exactly what we've been looking for." Dean shrugged.

"Yeah."

Dean glanced at Sam and then turned his attention back to the road. Guiding the Impala around ice-covered evidence of the gale-force winds of the previous day, he gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath. "Kinda full-on, huh?" Aware of his brother turning to look at him, he offered another shrug. "I mean ... how long have we been waiting for signs like this and now ... it's pretty intense."

"And then some." Sam agreed quietly, looking down at the map that lay across his thighs. Symbols and scribbled notes marked a pattern of freak weather events from the past month and the epicenter was circled in red: a small town in upstate New York.

"Listen ..." Dean frowned as he chose his words carefully. "I know the most we're expecting is a few leads but - "

"What if we actually find the demon?"

Dean again glanced at his brother, his frown deepening.

"I know how you feel." Sam continued, looking up from the map to watch the road unfurling through the trees.

"You do?"

Sam nodded and a small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "You think I'll go after it again. Charge in all guns blazing without thinking it through."

"Yeah." Dean confirmed in a sigh. "And considering the fact that we don't even have the one gun that will kill this mother-f - "

"I won't."

Dean paused in uncertainty.

"I mean, I'm not saying I don't want to end this bastard but ... we have to plan it carefully."

Dean nodded slowly and then gave a small laugh. "Ignoring the fact that the fucker probably knows we're coming."

Sam made no reply.

"Dude." Dean chided, "It was in Dad ..." Flinching at the memory and his knuckles whitening as his fists tightened, he shook his head sadly. "Son-of-a-bitch knows everything we know."

Sam closed his eyes and clenched his teeth as adrenaline cursed through him. The possibility that the demon was now creating an illusion of signs purely to trap them had been a much heated topic between the two of them and remained unresolved. It was Ash that had started the debate, his home-made early warning systems picking up a perfect trail and the pattern appearing to his scientific mind as simply far too easy to follow.

"Slow and cautious." Dean continued.

"Yeah." Sam consented with a sigh and looked back down at the map. "Left at the next junction."

Wilton, New York State

The bar was set on the outskirts of the small town and was loud with raucous birthday celebrations. Watching through the thin smoke and enjoying the playful antics of the large group of friends, Dean laughed as the boy at the centre of the attention gulped down yet another shot of Tequila.

"Nothing!"

Startled, Dean spun round and groaned as he saw the tatty leather-bound file that that Sam had suddenly slammed onto the table. "Dude!" He protested, slapping his hand to his heart dramatically.

Sam sighed and sank into a chair beside his brother. "I checked through every database in the library. No missing people. No unusual events in the past five years - let alone five days." He looked around the bar and shook his head in dismay.

"Hmm." Dean empathized.

"What did you find?" Sam frowned.

"The bar." Dean grinned, indicating their surroundings. "And - yeah - not a lot else."

"This place is dullsville central."

"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Dean smiled, nodding towards the party.

"What? A frat party? Oh, please. Hold me back."

"Dude!" Dean gasped, "What's your problem?"

"My problem is that we've driven almost half way across the country and had about three hours sleep. And for what?"

"Decent beer." Dean offered lightly, taking a swig from the bottle he held.

Sam shot his brother a warning glare and gave another heavy sigh.

"Listen," Dean offered gently, "We got here late in the day. And there's not a lot we can do." He took another drink and rested back in his chair with a contented smile. "We'll have a good night's rest and start asking around in the morning."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Dude, it's a good bed."

"Soft mattress?"

Dean nodded, "Tasteful decor, clean towels, no crazy gimmicks. A few stars higher than our usual roadside dumps."

"And we can afford it?"

"Our alter egos certainly can." Dean affirmed with a smug grin.

Sam laughed gently. "Oh, man ... I keep forgetting how much you love this role-play shit."

"Role play?" Dean chuckled, "Black PVC body suit and - "

"Okay!" Sam held up his hands, "So didn't want that image in my head!"

Dean's grin widened and he finished the last of his beer. Standing, he delved into his pocket for some cash, "Get you one, Sammy-boy?"

"Sure."

Catching the bartender's eye as he approached, Dean held up his bottle. "Two please."

"You got it." The man nodded and headed for the fridge.

Dean reached the bar and perched on one of the high stools. "I see birthday boy's still going strong."

"Who, Pete? Ha!" The bartender placed two fresh bottles in front of Dean and shook his head. "Yeah. He's gonna be suffering in the morning!" He laughed merrily, "I just hope for his sake he recovers before his daddy gets home."

"Oh?" Dean raised an eyebrow in intrigue as he paid for the drinks.

"Pete's the preacher's son." The bartender explained. "Lucky for him, there's some big ecumenical conference in Boston this week."

"Hell, yeah!" Dean laughed in agreement, "Nothing beats a parent-free zone on your 21st!" He took a sip of one of the bottles and then suddenly paused, his smile fading. "Wait ..." He frowned slightly, "You mean there's no priest in town?"

"There's no church folk at all. Not 'till they get back for Sunday mass."

"Uh-huh." Dean collected both bottles and headed back to his brother. "Think I just got bitten on the ass by the biggest sign, Sammy."

Sam frowned in confusion.

"Seems the Lord's finest are all out of state." Dean flopped into his chair with a sigh, "Maybe my sweet dreams premonition was a little off." He repeated the bar tender's information and took a long swig of beer. "Perfect conditions for Beelzebub's top dog."

"Great." Sam acknowledged, his attention then taken by something at the far end of the room.

Dean followed Sam's gaze and peered into the dimmer side of the bar. "What ...?"

"That girl."

"Huh?" Dean squinted slightly and then saw what had caught Sam's eye. "Hell-llo." He husked. "Nice spot, little brother."

"Dean!" Sam groaned, "Not in that way. Dude, you're unbelievable!"

Dean spun back, grinning. "So I've been told." He saw the frustration in his brother's face and threw his hands up in the air. "What? Dude, you make it so easy!" He then turned back round to watch the girl that sat at the far end of the bar, first noting her trim figure and then seeing her sad demeanor, and could understand why Sam was intrigued.

It then became clear that Sam was not the only person who had been studying her. Dean watched as another patron moved towards her and leaned in close to speak to her. "Oops." Dean settled back against his chair and sighed in sympathy, "Looks like you've been beaten to it, Sammy."

Sam closed his eyes and dragged a hand through his hair. "Sometimes it amazes me how I haven't strangled you in your sleep."

Dean laughed in delight and raised his beer. "Love you, too, bro'."

Sam looked back up and then gasped suddenly, sitting forward in his chair. "Wo ..."

Dean turned round and took a moment to see what had his brother so concerned. The brunette was evidently offended by something and seemed suddenly upset, finishing her drink quickly and standing from her stool.

Sam grabbed the arm of his chair, ready to get to his feet at the first sign of trouble and his jaw tightening as he saw the man lean in close to the girl once again. This time she reacted with a rough shove and forced the man away from her. She then slipped on her jacket and hurried from the bar.

"And ... oh, crap …" Dean muttered under his breath, watching the rebuffed man stomping angrily towards the door. "He's following ..."

Sam got to his feet. "Let's go."

Outside, the night air was icy cold and the two brothers shuddered, pulling their jackets closer round them.

Sam looked first left then right and groaned in annoyance. "Where'd she go?"

"Shit!" Dean hissed, his breath billowing white into the air.

"Come on." Sam urged, heading along the side of the building. "If he grabbed her, then - " He stopped abruptly, spinning round towards a noise from somewhere across the street.

"You heard that, too?" Dean urged.

"Yeah." Sam replied, breaking into a run.

Dean followed quickly, sticking close to his brother. Another muffled shout then came from an alley along the street and they increased their pace, almost skidding to a halt at the end of the dark passage.

"Hey!" Sam cried out, lurching forward to pull the man away from the girl. He mistimed his intervention and gasped as a fist met his temple, sending him reeling backwards.

"Sam!" Dean quickly jumped in, making a rapid check on his dazed brother and then turning his attention towards the struggle. The girl was caught, her attacker choking her with his arm. Dean moved in closer and jabbed his fist into the man's side, feeling ribs give.

The man crumpled a little, loosening his hold. With a defiant cry, the girl writhed free and spun at him, landing a punch square on his nose.

"Go!" Dean ordered urgently, moving in to restrain the man.

"No!"

Dean was stunned as he was shoved clear and the girl flew at her attacker, pounding a right hook into his jaw and thrusting her fist into his abdomen.

"Hey!" Dean cautioned, seeing her attacker taking a moment to regain his composure. He took her arm and pulled her back.

"Get the fuck off me!" She glared angrily, shrugging from Dean's grip and stepping back in to launch another attack.

"What the hell - ?" Sam hurried to Dean's side, pressing the palm of one hand into his bleeding temple.

Dean watched the girl attacking her pursuer and suddenly saw something more than angry retaliation. Her moves were precise, her reactions agile and then he saw the weapon concealed in the back waist of her jeans.

"Dude ..." Sam grabbed his brother's arm and watched in concern as the girl drew the long knife from its sheath.

"Hey!" Dean hurried forward but was stopped by a sudden high kick to his chest. He crumpled over and tried to catch his breath, aware of his brother rushing to his side.

"Back off!" The girl cried and with a furious shout sank the long blade into the man's chest.

"Fuck!" Sam exclaimed, looking on in horror as the man collapsed back against the wall. "What the fuck have you done?"

The girl glanced back and groaned in disgust. "What I could have done much quicker if you two do-gooders hadn't interfered."

"But - " Clutching his bruised chest, Dean slowly stood up straight. "We thought - "

Shaking her head in annoyance, the girl turned back to her victim. She grabbed the hilt of the dagger and, ignoring the man's scream of pain, pulled the blade free. Stepping back away from the man, she watched calmly as he stared down in horror at his own blood soaking into his shirt. With a groan, he sank down the wall and crumpled into a heap on the floor.

"You - " Sam shook his head in disbelief and turned to Dean. "I don't believe it."

Dean frowned in confusion, watching the girl turn towards them and seeing the smile that danced on her mouth. He then noticed the man starting to move and saw that she was aware of it also. She nodded slightly and turned back.

The man was on his feet and making a lunge at the girl faster than seemed possible. And yet she was even faster. Slicing the blade through the air in a powerful stroke, she then ducked to the side and watched the man crumple face down onto the ground. In an instant she was on her knees beside him and grabbed a handful of his hair, forcing his head up. He gurgled a cry of pain and anger, blood pumping from the wide gash across his throat.

"Fuck …!" Dean whispered, suddenly seeing the sharp second set of teeth that descended as the man snarled.

Dropping the man's head back down, the girl then lifted the knife up high and with expert precision plunged it into the back of the man's neck. Blade hit tarmac with a strange clang and the head was severed from the neck.

"Oh my god." Sam husked in dismay. "A vampire?"

The girl laughed gently and wiped her knife clean on the dead man's coat. "Yeah." She slowly got to her feet and regarded them both in amusement. "The vulnerable little girl routine gets 'em every time."

"What?" A small smile danced on Dean's mouth, "You lured him?"

With a satisfied smirk, she reached behind her to slide the knife back into it's sheath and then took a leather hip flask from inside her jacket. She unscrewed the cap and flicked a small amount of dark liquid over the remains.

Dean stared at the body and watched in wonder as it seemed to shudder slightly and then, like paper thrown onto a fire, curled up and disintegrated as small flames engulfed it.

"Wo." Sam grimaced in revulsion.

"Huh." Dean offered in approval, "That's a handy little clean-up trick."

She smiled and replaced the flask. "Thanks for your help, boys." She chuckled in sarcasm and strode from the alley.

"Shit." Sam sighed, looking after her disappearing figure. "I had no idea."

"No ..."

"God!" He laughed suddenly, "Dude, this is kinda embarrassing! I mean - "

"We just got our asses handed to us." Dean agreed, "By a girl!"

Sam watched his brother look down at the small pile of ashes that remained and saw him smiling in wonder. "Another hunter?"

"I don't know." Dean replied, "But this town has suddenly got a lot more interesting."

"What? Vampires?"

Dean groaned in disbelief and shook his head. "Sure, Sammy. Vampires." He scoffed and headed out of the alley.

XXXXX

Sam threw himself onto the generous single bed and moaned contentedly, letting his weary body sink into the plush quilt.

"Told ya." Dean smiled, perching on the edge of the adjoining bed and pulling off his shoes.

"Mmm ... wake me up in the Spring ..." Sam mumbled into the covers.

"Sure." Dean chuckled, "I'll handle things. You get your beauty sleep."

"Yeah, yeah. Cos I sure need it. Ha ha." Sam sighed, rolling onto his back. "Ow!" He reached up to touch his head and winced as his fingers grazed the crusty blood on his swollen temple. "So where d'you think she went?"

Dean rested his elbows on his knees and hung his head. "I wish I knew."

"The bartender didn't know her." Sam recalled. "Maybe she was just passing through."

"Nah." Dean lay back onto the bed and frowned up at the ceiling. "She was after that vampire."

"Tracking him?"

Dean shrugged, "I guess." He closed his eyes and lifted his hand to his chest, stroking the tender area over his sternum carefully. "But with no signs of any unusual disappearances, I doubt he was a local diner."

"You think he stopped by cos of the lack of faith leaders?"

"Maybe."

Sam laughed suddenly, "Dude, we could have been sipping down with the whole nest!" He turned onto his side and looked over at his brother. "You think she could have taken them all out?"

"I dunno …" Dean smiled happily, "But I'll have fun dreaming about it."

Sam groaned and flopped his head onto the bed.

"What?" Dean defended.

"You saw her. She's dangerous." Sam urged, "We've seen her sort of style before."

Dean frowned in thought.

"I mean, come on, dude!" Sam continued, "You remember Gordon. What if this woman goes after someone like Lenora?" His brother made no reply and Sam smiled in amusement. "That's if you can think about her with your upstairs brain."

Laughing in delight, Dean turned to Sam and nodded merrily. "Good one."

Sam grinned, "You know ... if I wanted to play your game, I would point out that I spotted her first."

"Yeah. If only your downstairs brain worked so well." Dean smirked, rolling out of range as a pillow was launched at him. "Besides." He stood from the bed and arched his back, rolling out aching muscles. "Thought you were saving yourself for little miss 'oil on canvas'." Turning, he saw Sam raising a middle-finger reply and he laughed merrily. "Say. Sarah's not far from here ..."

"No." Sam answered sternly.

Dean's smile grew and pulled off his shirt.

"Ouch!" Sam winced in sympathy.

Looking down, Dean saw the dark bruise on his chest and sighed heavily. Lifting his hand, he touched the edge of the blue-black patch and then moved his fingers up to the thick red scar that crossed diagonally down from his left shoulder. Shuddering, he shook himself from his musing and slipped off his jeans.

"You think we should track her down.? Find out more about her?" Sam asked, immediately regretting it as his brother giggled naughtily. "Okay. I take that back."

Dean grinned and shook his head slowly. "As appealing as they may be, I think we need to avoid any distractions." He answered honestly, pulling on his tatty old sleep shirt. "Y'know … look after each other." He pulled back the quilt and climbed into the bed. "Oh god ..." Dean sighed happily, "I'm with you on the hibernation idea, Sammy."

Sam smiled and reached up to flick off the light.

tbc ...