Author's Note: Hey guys, thanks a ton for all the reviews. Every time my e-mail alert goes off an angel gets its wings :x.

I did forget in the last chapter to mention a couple of things. 1) I do not own Dresden or the characters of Supernatural, though if Harry and the Winchester brothers were to show up bound and gagged on my porch…well I'd pass out from a nosebleed and be useless…but yeah. 2) Should probably clarify that this is bookverse for Harry, taking place a few months after "Small Favor". For Dean and Sam, this is a week or two after "Mystery Spot".

Thanks again to JadeAnime for keeping on me about this. Without her poking and random texts, I would probably have aimlessly wandered off to pick wildflowers or something halfway through the first chapter.

"Fuego."

Bella gasped in surprise as the window's sole remaining curtain burst into flames. The room was briefly illuminated by orange light, but the curtain had been well soaked by the rain, so the fire quickly died down to a smoldering ember, instead filling the room with billows of smoke. Dean caught a brief glimpse of a tall black figure in the back corner before he tucked into a roll and scrambled to the other side of the bed for cover.

The brothers had one of those moments of perfect understanding.

"Sam!"

"On it," Sam grabbed Bella by the neck of her coat and began steering her toward the room's exit, careful to keep their heads low as Dean fired off a couple of rounds into the corner they'd heard the voice come from. The bullets struck true, but Dean's eyes widened when they erupted into shocks of blue light a foot or so in front of the figure. He ducked back behind the bed before he could see anything else. What the hell?

On the floor with his back to the bed, Dean could see Sam reach the door with Bella still in tow. His brother reached for the knob and Dean rose again, firing two more shots at their assailant. Again, there were small flashes of light and the figure remained unharmed. A growl that might have been a word came from the shadows and Sam cried out as the door was ripped from his hands and slammed shut of its own accord. Sam whirled and shot once. It missed horribly, but the figure still stepped back a bit as Sam overturned the room's small desk and ducked behind it, pulling Bella down with him.

For a moment, there was a lull and no one breathed. Dean checked the clip in his gun. One more bullet. Damn. He went through a quick mental inventory and realized that the rest of his ammo was under his bed. Most likely right at the feet of the person attacking them. If it could be called a person. What had those flashes of light been? Slowly, Dean inched to the end of the bed and peaked around as much as he dared, staying as close to the floor as possible.

The smoldering curtain glowed more brightly then it should have, and the smoke it emitted was starting to catch in the back of his throat despite the "open" window. Dean set his teeth against a cough and was silently thankful for what little light the embers gave them.

There was a quiet crunching noise, and Dean realized that their attacker was moving closer. He eased back, rising up to a better shooting position. Behind Sam's barricade, all was quiet. Dean could only assume that his brother was having the same ammo issues as he, or maybe he was just waiting to see what Bella's hunter was going to do. Who knew? Maybe they could get out of this without a fight. Yeah right.

The man--as it was obviously a man now--came slowly into view, putting both Dean and Sam's desk into his line of sight. Dean blinked. Was the guy limping? He narrowed his eyes, taking their attacker in now that he could see him.

He was easily taller than Sam, though the fact that Dean was squatting on the floor might have helped that image a bit. His shock of rumpled black hair and full length black duster seemed to absorb the shadows around him, bringing his pale, angular face into stark relief. He held his left arm raised protectively, its hand gloved and drawn into an unnatural clawed shape that Dean suspected might be the result of major scarring. When Dean's eyes fell on the contents of his right hand, the chill that had settled in his stomach began to claw its way back up his spine. The man carried a long staff, its wood smooth and worn from years of use. Carved, or maybe burned into the staff were glowing runes that burned with their own smoldering fire.

The man's eyes, their color and expression lost to the partial light, took in both Dean and the desk at regular intervals, keeping everything in his sight. Dean might have been mistaken but he could have sworn that the guy nodded to him ever so slightly.

Another moment of silence and finally their attacker spoke. When he did, his voice was deep and a bit hoarse, the seething anger it carried contrasting starkly to his words, "Heya, Bella! Long time no see. Good to see that you made it out of the apartment all right."

Bella's voice drifted from behind the desk, polite as ever, "Good evening, Mr. Dresden. I could say the same about you. You seem well; I take it your attackers left you mostly unscathed."

Dean blinked again and then shook his head in disgust. Nothing with Bella was ever simple. He wished intently that he could see his brother's face right then, but poor Sam was probably getting just as confused as he was.

The man called Dresden scratched his forehead with the tip of his glowing staff, "Yeah, about that…Really hope they weren't friends of yours, they probably won't be calling for awhile."

Dean was getting really tired of being ignored. "Hi!" he said suddenly, loudly. His voice was like a bark that bounced around the cramped confines of their motel room. Dresden turned to him slightly, eyes narrowed. Once he had the other man's attention he smiled congenially, gun still aimed at his chest. "Hey there. Name's Dean. The guy cowering behind the desk over there is my brother, Sam. Bella came to us for protection, saying something about you wanting to kill her. Now normally I'd be the first one in line to back you up on that one, but the thing is that I really can't stand guys that pick on women." To illustrate his point, he adjusted his aim slightly, raising the gun and sighting down the barrel.

Dresden's eyes narrowed more. "I don't hit women…Dean. The lady here stole something that was mine. All I want is it back."

"Yeah, something that you've already killed to get? I don't think so." There was something nibbling in the back of Dean's head, something telling him that he might be in the wrong on this one. Given that he was choosing to back up Bella, it was very likely. Then again…Dean's eyes followed the line of Dresden's body. At some point the duster had shifted, revealing a large white bandage wrapped around the man's leg just below the knee. His dark fatigue pants had been cut off just above the bandage; standard action when the doctors wanted to get to a wound quickly. There was a dark stain forming in the middle of the gauze, and Dresden leaned so that almost no weight was on that leg. Something had been digging into his back since he'd ducked behind the bed, and Dean remembered that he'd knocked an ashtray to the floor earlier that evening. It was an old school ashtray, porcelain and heavy. He had an idea.

Dean took in Dresden's still glowing staff, his oddly misshapen hand. Whatever this guy was, he wasn't human, and hunter rule number one said that you don't deal with the monsters.

"Sam! Now!" he roared, and reached behind his back.

Sam rose from behind the desk immediately, shotgun aimed, and fired at Dresden.

Dresden had been moving as well, and he pivoted toward Sam. Again, that blue light flared and rendered the bullets harmless, but this time Dean was ready. His hand came clear with the ashtray and he flicked it like a Frisbee straight Dresden's bandaged shin. It struck home, and the taller man folded and fell against the wall with a pained snarl. Sam fired again, and once more it was blocked by a flash of light. The light was duller this time, sluggish somehow. Sam's eyes lit up as he took in the change as well.

"It's a shield, Dean! He has a magic shield of some kind and it's wearing down."

Wearing down? Dean could live with that. He raised his gun one more time, taking aim between Dresden's eyes. He pulled the trigger.

And nothing happened.

Dean had a moment's panicked thought where he wondered if he'd imagined that last bullet. The next time he pulled the trigger he heard a familiar sickening thunk. His gun was jammed. Shit. Dresden, on the other hand, had a fierce grin on his face as he raised his staff.

Dean's next thought was trying to figure out how his head had been planted in the wall behind him.

Bella had seen nothing of the violent exchange between the brothers and Dresden. She'd wisely chosen to keep her head down, feeling no twinge of shame in hiding behind Sam. Earlier, when Dresden had mentioned his home being attacked, Sam had shot her a look that somehow managed to be questioning and accusing at the same time, but all she'd done was smile and shrug nonchalantly. The less the brothers knew the better.

Her ears ringing from the shots that had been fired, she stared in fascination as Dean literally flew into view over the top of the desk, only to crash partially through the wall a few feet behind him. Sam cried out for his brother but was smart enough not to go for him. Instead he kicked the desk in front of him, putting enough force into his long leg to send it sliding into Dresden's hip. Sam wasn't far behind it, swinging his now empty shotgun expertly toward the other man's chin.

Bella opted not to stay for the end of that sequence; it was long past time she was out of there. One hand strayed and caressed a sizeable lump under her trench, ensuring that it was still in place. Her eyes widened a bit. Had it just purred?

She experienced a moment of tension as she opened the door. The illogical side of her was worried that Dresden was maintaining some sort of lock spell while battling the Winchester brothers. Thankfully, whatever he'd used had only been temporary, and the door came open easily enough. As simple as that, she was out of the tiny motel room, hopefully with no one the wiser.

Rain still pattered gently all around, but significantly lighter than before. Another ten minutes and the spring storm would probably blow over entirely. The broken sidewalk glittered with yet more broken glass, and barring a streetlight a hundred yards down the road, everything was pitch black. At first she'd expected the parking lot to be full of people wandering aimlessly around, poking at the glass and speculating on what had happened, but with a smile she realized why it was deserted. Lovely things, gunshots. They kept all of the bystanders out of the way, and soon they'd bring police as well.

Her phone beaming a small amount of light onto the ground, Bella began walking in the opposite direction of her car. Anyone with half a brain would have sabotaged it in some way before they came after her. She needed to acquire a new one. For a brief moment, she considered taking Dean's with a dreamy smile, but no, even she knew when to stop pushing her luck.

The thief's steps were bringing her close to a bloated, powder blue boat of a car also known as a late 80's model Cadillac. Her lip curled in distain, but really it was almost exactly what she needed. It was the last thing anyone would expect to find her in, and it was old, thus easier to manipulate. Plus--she tried to door and grinned--it wasn't even locked.

The Cadillac had just rumbled to life when someone casually leaned against the driver side door. Bella jumped and starred in shock…she hadn't even heard him coming. The man on her car wore a shirt of deep emerald, and sported his black leather jacket with the easy grace of someone accustomed to money. Though his arms were crossed innocently over his chest, she could clearly see the small gun he had pointed at her head.

His weight shifted effortlessly and she could see his face coming into view as he lowered his head. Black hair with natural curls she had to fight not to touch framed a pale face Hollywood had been trying to perfect for decades. His blue eyes held a kind of self deprecating humor and the crooked smile he wore had a feel of permanence to it. The gun moved slightly as he used it to gesture toward the window.

Bella's surprise only showed for a moment before her own smile was in place. Slowly, with deliberate, exaggerated movements, she rolled her window down. "Thomas, it's always a pleasure to see you."

He nodded gallantly. "Good evening, Bella," he glanced around the car pointedly. "I'd come to expect something a little different of you."

She shrugged one shoulder, "A girl has the right to change her mind from time to time."

Thomas sighed a bit and pushed himself off the car, "Come on, out you go. Time to go back and face those poor boys you duped."

"Which ones?" She blinked innocently.

The man before her shook his head slightly, "We can do this the easy way or the hard way, but either way you're coming with me."

"Was that a pun?"

Thomas didn't dignify that with an answer.

Sam had been fighting for as long as he could remember. When someone spends their life combating things that aren't human, they learn certain rules, patterns and stereotypes to consult when faced with a new foe. He'd learned that when something relies on spells or psychic abilities to toss people around, they generally don't want to be up close and personal with their enemy. Close the space, win the fight. It was a simple enough tactic.

And he'd been trying to do just that. He really had.

Sam and Dean stood together in the room's back corner where they'd first seen Dresden. Dean's cheek had been cut back when the window had exploded, and the trailing blood made odd patterns in the stubble along his jaw. The eye on that side had begun to purple and swell, giving him an asymmetrical look.Sam himself was sporting a busted lip, an alarmingly loose tooth, and he was doing his best to ignore the fact that the back of his head was abnormally light and he constantly smelled burned hair.

Dresden was on the opposite side of the room from them, leaning heavily against the wall behind him. The bandage around his shin had turned almost completely black in the shadows and sweat dripped from the end of his nose. They were all breathing heavily and glaring warily at one another.

"You know," Dresden said, wiping his mouth. "I'm doing my best not to kill you two, but you're making it pretty damn hard."

Dean scoffed, "Don't do us any favors, buddy. We're here as long as you're after Bella. Can't have you killing her on our watch."

Dresden smiled, "You're still trying to protect Bella, huh?"

"That's right."

"How's that working out for ya?"

Sam didn't have to look to feel Dean's incredulous blink. He did, however, risk taking his eyes off Dresden long enough to scan the room. It was a tiny room, it didn't take long.

Bella was gone.

Dean's snarled curse mirrored the string of them going off in Sam's head. She'd done it to them again, and Sam had fallen for it. "Twelve beers, Sammy," he heard Dean growling under his breath. "Twelve beers."

There was a sound of rustling clothing as Dresden made himself more comfortable against his wall, "Don't worry, she won't have gotten too far."

That made Sam a little worried in spite of himself, "How would you know that?"

Dresden gave him a cheesy grin, "The Shadow knows."

"Hey, look what I caught," came a smug voice from the doorway. Both of the brothers jumped in surprise, nerves frazzled from the night's activities. Sam might have been imagining it, but it looking like Dresden startled a bit too. What was left of the curtain had finally bowed in acquiescence to the rain, leaving him little light to study features of the tall man with tousled hair that stood outlined in the doorway. He didn't need much light to see the gun he was holding, however, or to see that it was aimed at Bella, who stood cross and sullen a few feet ahead of him. "I tried to throw it back, but what do you know, nothing would take her."

The moment Bella's presence was made known, the relaxed air that Dresden had slowly been adopting evaporated. His eyes narrowed dangerously and his back stiffened. He might have been imagining it, but there was a buzzing in the back of Sam's head, like someone's bass playing far away, and he could have sworn that the source was Dresden's staff.

"Bella," he said quietly, "I'm honestly not that upset about you lying to me and then stealing from me. It's the fact that you distracted me. When you ran, I chased after you at a time that I shouldn't have, and because of that a good friend of mine was hurt." Sam could hear wood creaking from where he was gripping his staff. "She was really hurt. I don't know if I can forgive you for that."

Bella showed the depths of her intelligence in two ways at that moment. One, she said nothing. Two, she looked afraid, very afraid.

Sam felt like he should say something at that point, but he had no idea what to say. It was then that he heard Dean sigh, followed by the chilling sound of a gun cocking.

"Hate to do this to you, Dresden, I really do," Dean said. Everyone turned to find him aiming a newly loaded shotgun at the exhausted caster.

"Dean, what the hell are you doing?" Sam hissed. All of his fear was settling in the pit of his stomach, making him sick inside. He looked from the man in the doorway, to the gun in his hand pointed at Bella, to Dresden clutching his staff, to Dean with a gun pointed at Dresden. This could all go downhill very fast, and all it would take was one person making a stupid mistake. Sam prayed his brother hadn't already made it.

"Thing is," said Dean, and Sam could hear the regret in his voice, "I understand where you're coming from, man, and I'm real sorry about your friend. I am. But you see, Bella has something that I can't just walk away from, and the only way for me get it right now is to get her away from you two."

Sam sighed. The Colt. Somehow, in all the excitement, it had slipped from his mind for a brief second. If they got Bella away from here, she'd get the Colt back for them, or so she'd said. There was nothing to say that she wasn't lying. Then again, she'd never actually lied to them in the past.

Silence fell thick, heavy, and more oppressive than the shadows around them. No one dared move, everyone watched each other warily. There was a fear in the air, that and the knowledge that as soon as someone moved, it was going to start a chain reaction of events that couldn't possibly end well.

That's about the point where Sam realized it might be getting worse.

"Um…" he said quietly, barely above a whisper, "that fog wasn't there five minutes ago."

Not everyone could see out the window without turning their back to the rest of the room, but Sam, Dean, and Dresden watched as a fog steadily slid into the motel's parking lot. Against the wind. They shouldn't have been able to see it as clearly as they did in an almost absolute darkness. It was there, though, glowing softly from the inside, rolling around cars and crawling toward their room with an almost sentient purpose.

Dresden sighed, "This day just keeps getting better and better."

"You know what that is?" Sam demanded, "Are we supposed to fight that thing?"

"Depends," Dresden said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"On what?"

"How good are you at chucking water balloons?"

JadeAnime: Mew! This is the ever-glorious beta. Just wanted to say my own word of thanks to all that have reviewed, you've made Pissy and I very happy. :3 dances And I have to say, I love being a beta. Cause I get to reads all this before the rest of you suckers. :o cackles But really, I'm terribly enthralled with this already… And I'm helping come up with the ideas. O.o Tells you how awesome Pissy is, that even though I know the basics of what's going to happen, I'm still drooling at the mouth, waiting for the next chapter like any other rabid fan. Or maybe I'm the only rabid one. That or it's that minty foot powder I was munching on earlier. D