Author's Notes: More of a filler chapter here until things get good. Enjoy these while they last because things start to get complicated. School is driving me out of my mind and then there's the school dance on Saturday, of course. And I get to watch the guy I like dance with another girl. Greeeeat. But enough of my bitterness: Enjoy the chapter and please review!

"Get up!" Amy insisted for the fourth time, shaking the shoulders of Dean Winchester. He groaned and put a hand over her face. "What are you doing?" She mumbled into his palm.

"Looking for the snooze button." He groaned, flopping over onto his stomach. She made a face he didn't see before brightening with an idea. With one mighty heave, she pushed him off of the bed where he landed in the small crack between bed and wall. There was a muffled thumping as he tried to get back up and Amy laughed.

"What is with you two and pushing me off the bed?" He complained, poking his head up. He directed these words towards Sammy who had joined them from out of the bathroom with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth.

"Hey, man, don't look at me. It was her idea to wake you up." Sam held his hands up in self defense, his words jumbled by the toothbrush. Amy spread herself on Dean's bed, watching him.

"What are you doing?" He asked in confusion.

"You're not getting back in bed. You're going to shower and get dressed." She insisted.

"I can sleep on the floor." His head and torso vanished again, down into the blankets he had taken with him onto the floor. Amy reached down and pulled these away from him. She balled them up and leaned on them so he wouldn't take them back. "Oh, come on. This is cruel. I was out until 3 last night!"

"Yeah, at the bar! That's your fault not ours!" Amy tugged on his arm until he shifted back into a sitting position. "And you sleep with your shoes on?" She raised an eyebrow at the dirty boots.

"Shut up." He heaved himself onto his feet, looking down at the ginger lounging on his bed. "You're a real buzz kill you know that?"

"It's part of my charm." She winked at him and he couldn't stop himself from grinning. She had spunk. He pushed his brother out of the bathroom, the door thudding closed behind him. Amy jumped off of his bed before bouncing towards the younger Winchester. "So, Sammy boy. What are we up to today?"

"Well," He flipped open his laptop, keying in his password. "We've got to find out who's doing this. If it's a werewolf like we think it'll probably be someone who knew all the victims. The thing is that this town is so small that everyone knows everyone. Kinda makes it hard to narrow down." He shrugged and Amy bit her lip in thought.

"What if it was someone they all talked to recently? Someone they could have made mad?" She theorized, plunking down in the seat opposite him. Sam's brow furrowed as he thought about it.

"Except one of them had been homesick with the flu for two days. Who would she have come in contact with in that space of time?" Sam argued, typing something into his search engine.

"Maybe a doctor." Amy's eyes were far away as she said it. Sam glanced up at her and saw this.

"Hey, you okay?" He wondered, pushing his laptop so it wasn't quite between them.

"I'm just a little homesick." She smiled sadly at him.

"You can always find a plane to get back to Leadworth." He told her seriously, sipping out of a water bottle. He sincerely hoped she wouldn't. He rather liked Amy and he knew Dean did too, even if he would never admit it.

"No, it's not Leadworth." Amy's finger traced a pattern on the wooden tabletop. Sam noted absently what a vivid shade of red they had been painted. They were as striking as Amy herself. "I've got a friend called the Doctor. We traveled together for a while. And I miss him."

"You've mentioned him a lot. Were you two..." Sam raised his eyebrows at Amy who laughed.

"No, nothing like that. He was my friend. My first friend actually. Crashed his" She hesitated. "vehicle into my shed in the dead of night. No warning. He was gone for a long time after but then he came back for me. I was just a little girl when I met him. Seven years old."

"He must be a lot older than you." Sam observed, seeing as how he was driving when she was only seven. He noticed how her eyes sparkled with laughter when he said that.

"You have no idea."

"So who is he then? Why do you miss traveling with him so much?" Amy bit her lip again and Sam tried not to frown. She was hiding something and this Doctor man seemed to be at the center of it. "You said he was going to rescue from 1940. How would he do that?" He pressed, more than a little curious about this strange woman who had landed in their laps.

Her mouth opened slowly and Sam swallowed a little. Her pink lips had parted to reveal perfect white teeth. Sam leaned forward in confidence, eager to hear what she had to say about this Doctor man. Just as the smallest beginning of a word began coming out of her mouth, the door to the bathroom slammed open.

"Hey, I'm starving. Can we get some breakfast?" Dean was rubbing a towel over his hair, drying the spiky ends. Amy leaned back from the table, much to Sam's disappointment. He felt a little angry at his brother for ruining the moment but he knew it wasn't Dean's fault. Dean threw the towel onto his bed before rummaging in the fridge. "Where's the booze?" He asked aloud.

"I cleared it out." Amy told him, pulling her legs up onto the seat and crossing them. "What did you do in there? Take a thirty second shower?"

"I clean up fast when there's a job in town. Now, where'd you put it?" He demanded, closing the fridge and turning to face her.

"I told you. I cleared it out. Threw it away. We're keeping you strictly on water for a while." Amy told him. Sam grinned. Amy was going to separate Dean from his alcohol? That was like trying to help a crack addict. Normal people wouldn't be able to keep this up for a day. And yet, Amy wasn't most girls, he supposed.

"That's not funny. Where did you put it?" Dean demanded again, approaching her with slow measured steps.

"I got rid of it. What are you deaf as well as stupid?" Amy made an annoyed face at him and Dean looked to his brother for support. Sam raised his hands in denial of involvement, his smirk betraying his amusement at the situation.

"Oh, so you think this is funny. You can't tell me what to drink." He pointed an accusing finger at her.

"Try me." Sam looked between the two, unsure of which will was stronger. Amy's eyes narrowed and Dean's arms crossed. After a few moments that were awkward for the younger Winchester, Dean sighed exaggeratedly and turned away from her. "Good, you can go get breakfast. No beer." She pointed a finger at him, squinting as though she could read his mind.

"I'm going. I'm going." He waved his jacket in the air as he left the room and Sam could only gawk at the red haired woman.

"What are you looking at?" She caught him staring. Sam closed his mouth, realizing it was hanging open slightly.

"I've never seen Dean back down from anyone." Sam told her honestly.

"I'm not anyone." She winked at him and he grinned before he felt his chest heave. He plunged a hand into his pocket as he began coughing. His plaid sleeve went over his mouth as the other searched valiantly. Amy cocked her head before realizing how much pain he was in. She jumped up and raced to the bathroom, returning with a ball of toilet paper.

Sam took this gratefully and held it to his mouth as he continued coughing. Amy patted him on the back as his scratchy throat felt slippery liquid forced its way up. Finally, the fit subsided and he pulled the paper away from him. It was covered with his blood, a horrible side effect of the trials. Amy stared at it with wide eyes and Sam shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. He balled it up and threw it in the trash.

"What's wrong with you?" It was more of a demand than a question.

"It's a long story."

Dean was practically cursing under his breath as he revved the Impala. Stupid girl, throwing away his whiskey. He had spent a fair amount of his money on that. Screw her, he would down a quick shot at the bar before he grabbed her friggin' breakfast. He didn't know why he hadn't put his foot down. That horrible guilt had crept up and twisted his gut as she stared at him with determined eyes.

The Impala trundled down the street as Dean began investigating for a good bar. He was already missing his morning shot of alcohol. He spotted a bar just next to diner. He supposed he could grab some pancakes or something for his brother and the chick. He didn't know if she liked them. Hell, he knew next to nothing about her.

Then his eyes slid past the bar to see a gaggle of people in the streets. Frowning, he parked his car along the side of the road and stepped out. His boots clunked across the pavement and his hand went automatically into his pocket for an ID. He flashed it to the police who were keeping the people back.

He stooped down to examine the pools of blood and left over bits of flesh. Another victim, it would seem. He poked a finger into the blood. Still warm. He stood, wiping the crimson onto his jacket. He turned back to the crowd and approached a blond man who was observing the gruesome sight.

"Agent Smith." He flashed his ID and the man stuck out a hand.

"Doctor John Watson, hello." He spoke with a British accent and Dean straightened a bit as he recognized the look of a soldier in his eyes.

"Did you see the attack?"

"No, I'm investigating it. My friend and I are detectives. We were hired to take a look." He explained.

"Well, I hope you won't mind if I ask you to share your findings?" Dean wasn't asking. He could flash his badge again if he needed to but he suspected this man would cooperate. Soldiers recognized each other. They knew when the other needed something.

"Of course Agent Smith. Should we go and see the body?"