Disclaimer: Don't own them, no matter how much I wish I did.

Author's Note: Better late than never...I had this written before Sunday but I've been so busy, this is pretty much the first decent chance I've had to post it. 100 words on the dot. I'm having far too much fun playing around with Dean in this one.

Spoilers/Warnings: Bad language. Lonely Dean. Creepy ghost. That's about it, I think.

Emergency

He backed away from the apparition slowly, one hand holding a tiny canister of salt protectively and the other fiddling in his pocket.

Come on, come on, come on...

The apparition was a little girl, blonde hair, pigtails, creepy as fuck. Evil spirits of little kids bugged him the most.

At least he'd gotten one of them.

Three to go...

And then he heard the familiar sounds...

Fuck! Emergency calls only! When the fuck would they realise that THESE were emergencies and no cop would be of any help. Not like a Bobby Singer would be...

He was so screwed!