AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Your feedback is so amazing and I'm glad you guys are loving where this is going, and I'm glad you like Grace—that was the point.

This next chapter has a little fluff in it, but still emotions, and a new character.

WARNINGS: Language, Controversial Topics, Dark Themes, Sex, Violence, Blood

ENJOY!

****

"Do you even know how to shoot a gun?" Dean asked as he moved the gun out of Grace's way as they got ready to go, still outside of Bobby's house.

Grace made a face. "Dean, I'm a hunter…I know how to shoot a gun."

"I just want to make sure since I'm sending you out into the field." Dean told her and pointed to the car. "Hop in and we'll head to go and practice."

"Fine—if that's how I have to prove to you that I'm good at this, then so be it." She told him, and rolling her eyes, got into the car.

Sam chuckled as Grace got into the backseat and shook his head. "Way to make friends."

"This isn't about making friends." Dean replied shrugging.

Sam nodded as Dean got into the driver's seat, and he got into the passenger side and they drove to a motel, Dean surprised Grace had so little things. She had one duffle that apparently held everything she needed, and part of him was impressed—she wasn't materialistic like he thought she'd be upon first glance. It was probably her outfit, but maybe it was just that Dean's kind of women were always kind of stuck-up…or slutty, one or the other…sometimes both.

Grace was wearing nice jeans, flats—but not tennis shoes—and a cotton blouse under her rather stylish jacket that still served its purpose. She pulled back her hair when they got to the motel, pushing her bangs out of her face as they fell into her eyes and then she paused and looked around before tossing her duffle on the couch. Sam raised his eyebrows at her and wondered what she was thinking, and then Dean pointed to the bed.

"Sam and I will flip for the couch, Grace." Dean explained, knowing that if they got stuck there for a few days, it was best to let the girl have the bed—hunter or not.

Grace shrugged and shook her head. "No, its fine—I'm the tag-along, so I'll take the couch and you guys can have the beds. So…when do I get to prove I'm not your average girl and I know how to handle myself?"

"Now." Dean told her chuckling and nodding, tossing his duffle onto the bed next to the window.

Grace nodded at him and then she made sure her cell phone was on 'vibrate' before she slid it back into her pocket and put on some chap stick, Sam heading out past her. The three of them drove to a nice clearing with a fence, and Dean pulled a couple targets out of the trunk under the extra weapons—they never knew when they'd need to train someone to keep them safe. Once they were all ready to start shooting, Dean told Grace to show them what she had, so she just smiled and nodded. Neither Sam nor Dean thought they'd be completely blown away by what happened next but they were—she was a natural…and she was a better shot than Dean was.

"Wow." Sam breathed when she was done. "Just…wow."

Dean walked over to her as she turned around to look at them and she smiled at the looks on their faces. She wasn't the most outgoing person that there was in some situations, but Grace Singer knew how to take care of herself—knew how to aim. In fact Dean was so impressed that though he resisted the urge at first, he took a deep breath and he looked from the target to Grace, deciding to spit it out.

"Show me how you did that?" He asked her.

Grace grinned and nodded. "I'd be happy to."

"What's the technique?" Dean asked her, cocking his gun.

Grace smiled and went up behind him, reminding Sam of a skilled man putting the moves on a girl he liked. Her hand wrapped around Dean's and she positioned his arm, both of them surprised that it didn't feel awkward in the slightest. She was just showing him how she did what she did, and Dean was willing to learn, Sam smiling at them because their bodies seemed to fit together seamlessly even though Grace was pressed up against Dean's back practically, and she was smaller than him.

"Now picture the target as something that you want—hitting the bulls-eye means getting everything…everything you're missing…everything you need…you need to hit the bulls-eye…do you feel that?" Grace asked him.

Dean swallowed, realizing he was hanging on her every word—he believed her every word. In fact as Dean pulled the trigger he honestly believed that hitting the bulls-eye would make everything better and when it didn't, he was a little disappointed, but he knew that what she had told him had worked. He tried the technique without the warmth of her body a few more times and found that his percentage had gone up. He was great before, but now he was even better.

"You shoot like a girl." Dean managed, and he smirked a little when Grace laughed.

She shrugged and pushed her bangs out of her face again. "I'm taking that as a compliment. Shooting is really the only thing I'm good at. I'm not the strongest or the fastest, my Latin is shaky at best…but I'm a natural at this."

"You really are." Sam agreed, and then he pointed to the car. "She proved she was ready, so we should head to the bar…talk to the victim's boyfriend."

"Sounds good." Dean replied, pocketing his gun in his jean's waistband. "You up for it? Your persuasion skills intact, Grace?"

She smiled at Dean. "I guess we'll have to see, won't we?"

**

"Where is Grace?" Castiel asked Bobby.

Bobby jumped at the sound and then shook his head at the angel—no matter how used to Castiel they were, him just popping in and out was something no one was used to yet. Castiel watched as Bobby wheeled over to him, looking up at him and Castiel realized he should have been more tactful, but this was important. He had information that Bobby needed, but he needed to talk to Grace, and for some reason he couldn't sense her.

"Why can't you sense her?" Bobby asked him.

Castiel shook his head. "I do not know, but it is not a good sign."

"I was afraid that you'd say that." Bobby told him nodding. "She headed out with Sam and Dean to hunt down Zachariah—well to see if he was behind the hunt that I found. I'll give you all the information I have on it and you can find them…I'm kind of stuck here."

Bobby hated admitting it but it was true—while he was in his wheelchair, Bobby couldn't just move whenever he felt like it. He had to wait for other people to come and pick him up and it made him feel weak—made him feel useless. Now he felt even worse, but it was because Grace was potentially in trouble and as estranged as they were, he wanted to keep her safe…he was her father, after all.

"Tell me what's wrong first." Bobby told Castiel, holding the information to himself.

Castiel nodded because he understood. "Word around is that Lucifer went to Grace because he thinks she can withstand him…he thinks that Grace is strong enough to harbor him, and that he can manipulate Sam that way. What do you know about your daughter?"

"Why would Lucifer think that?" Bobby asked Castiel instead.

It didn't make sense to either of them that Grace could be some amazingly powerful vessel. There had to be a reason…maybe this was a trap. Lucifer would go to any lengths to get to Sam, but was this really the way? How would that help him? To be in Grace? If he needed Sam and he needed him now, there were better ways to go around getting to him emotionally than by inhabiting Grace.

"I do not know—that is why I need to find her." Castiel explained. "I will come back with the information that I get."

Bobby nodded at him. "All right…give me your cell phone and I'll put her number in there for you."

"That would be ideal." Castiel agreed, looking at Bobby and nodding as he took the papers. "It's an easier idea then getting the jump on her."

"Yeah, I certainly think so." Bobby told Castiel, chuckling a little. "You know as much as Sam and Dean are rubbing off on you, you need to relax a little more, Cas."

Castiel simply nodded and then he looked over Bobby's research, Bobby wheeling into the other room as Castiel disappeared. Bobby got himself a drink and took a deep breath, hoping that Grace was going to be all right. He knew he could call her, but he also didn't know how Grace would take him checking up on her.

On the one hand he was just making sure she was safe and he was her father, but on the other hand he'd been absent most of her life. Grace was used to doing things on her own and Bobby didn't know if she'd be flattered or offended if he called her to check up on her. Then again he could call one of the boys—they'd let him know how Grace was doing and then Bobby wouldn't have to worry…so what was he going to do?

**

When they got to the bar, Dean and Sam found themselves impressed again as Grace struck up a rather casual conversation with the man. She seemed to understand that he was in pain, and she knew how to deal with it and go about it without bombarding him with questions, and Sam knew she had it under control. So instead he just sat at the other end and ordered a beer, one of the other bartenders on duty handing it to him and setting her sights on Dean.

Sam was used to that—Dean always seemed to get the attention, even though they were both just as attractive upon first glance. It was the air about him…it was the fact that you could tell by looking that Dean was in control…that he was ready for engagement. On the other end there was Sam…Sam who had a habit of making himself seem incredibly closed off…he was much less approachable.

"So what'll you have?" The bartender asked Dean.

Dean looked at away from Grace and to the bartender, smiling at her. "Just a beer is good, thanks—the best one you have."

"Coming right up." She told him, noticing how he'd ordered and then looked back at Grace without hesitation.

"It's gotta be hard to go on without her." Grace told Alex Frost, Emma Tweed's boyfriend.

Emma Tweed had disappeared—there was no actual death, no body…just her spouting off strange things about angels and then disappearing. No one knew where she was, and Alex was pretty devastated without her, but he liked being able to get it all off of his chest to someone willing to listen. In fact Grace just seemed like that kind of person—the nice person who wanted to listen, but at the same time was a stranger so…how did you just let go and trust them when you didn't know them?

"It is." Alex agreed with a nod.

Grace looked at her beer. "I, uh…I hope you find her…I bet she wishes you were with her."

"I'd think that if that were the case, she'd have taken me with her." Alex told her, shaking his head as Dean chugged some beer and kept his eyes fixed on Grace.

"Two shots of the strongest liquor you have." A blonde said, slumping down on the stool next to Sam and looking at him as he glanced at her and offered her a 'hello-in-passing' smile. "You ever just have one of those days?"

Sam laughed lightly and nodded. "Yeah, I understand. That bad?"

"I own a lesser known record label." She explained to him, shaking her head. "One of my bands is driving me up the walls—I'm starting to wonder why I signed them in the first place. My feet are killing me!"

Sam watched as the woman pushed off her heels and shed her jacket, putting the jacket on her lap before tussling her blonde hair and downing the shots. Then she turned to Sam and she held her hand out, Sam smiling at her and grasping it, surprised at her soft skin. She smiled back at him, captivated for a moment by his beautiful brown eyes, and then she shook his hand firmly.

"Miranda Harver." She said as the bartender refilled her shots.

Sam nodded and set his beer down with his other hand. "Sam Winchester."

"Nice to meet you, Sam." Miranda admitted with a nod. "So what brings you here? I'm sure you didn't wanna actually hear about my problems."

"I'm here because my brother and I experienced some death in the family recently and I needed to kind of meditate, I guess." Sam told her with a shrug.

Part of it was true, but the other part of it was just Sam trying to keep a cover, and he was good at that. He did need to take some time out to think some things over, but he knew that no matter what happened, he was going to need to get over it. There was an apocalypse happening as they sat there in the bar and what if Sam strayed again? What if he was too weak to refuse demon blood again?

"I apologize." Miranda told him, pushing one of her shots towards him. "I lost my Mom a few years ago…its hard…but it gets better."

Sam smiled at her. "I'm glad to have met you, Miranda."

"You too, Sam." Miranda told him, downing her shot and smiling when Sam downed the other one. "Wanna play a game of pool?"

Sam decided to take her up on the offer, and Dean glanced over when he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye, smiling a little—Sam deserved a little fun. Besides, the blonde was incredibly attractive, and Dean jumped a little when he heard Grace's voice. She sat down next to him and rested her hand on his knee to get his attention, pulling it away when Dean jumped. Grace thought it was her touching him that was making him jumpy and she blushed…she didn't want to bring him discomfort.

"Alex mentioned the name Zachariah…so you were right. He also mentioned that she'd been talking to an angel named Thea…mean anything to you?" Grace asked him.

Dean shook his head firmly. "No…but I think Thea found herself a vessel."

"Well…I think we need to summon Zachariah and find out what he's up to." Grace said, looking over at Sam and smiling. "Maybe rent another motel room?"

"If he gets lucky he'll go to hers." Dean replied, sipping his beer and smiling a little. "I kind of hope he does…he needs it."

Grace laughed and rolled her eyes. "Sex doesn't fix anything."

"It makes you feel good." Dean protested, though he knew he wasn't invested in the argument.

"That feeling lasts until the endorphins are gone…then you feel bad again." Grace said shrugging. "Why would you want that kind of bandaid?"

Dean nodded slowly, and then he smiled a little because he was learning more about Grace and he liked it. He was making a friend and he was glad to have someone he could talk to…someone he didn't have to worry about as far as demon blood was concerned. In fact as he thought about it more, he realized that there were a lot of things he could talk to Grace about…but did he know her well enough yet? Of course he didn't.

"That bartender is eying you…you should flirt with her." Grace told Dean, setting her half empty beer down and deciding not to have anymore.

Dean shook his head and made eye contact with her. "I don't much feel for that kind of bandaid right now."

Note: The first flashback for Grace will happen in the next chapter and I hope you guys will enjoy learning about her past. Also, I hope you liked that little look into the Grace/Dean/Sam friendship pow-wow. Feedback is always appreciated!