Episode 2: Mama Told Me Not to Look Into the Eyes of the Sun

Then: After Mina surprisingly saves Sam during a werewolf hunt and proves to be a psychic in the case of a vengeful spirit, the Winchester brothers are sure they've stumbled upon something big. Unbeknownst to them, Crowley is also looking for Mina Miles.

Dean leaves Sam and Mina at a hotel in Tulsa, apparently going to help Garth with a Djinn, and deeming this hunt too dangerous for Mina just yet.

But the real question that everyone is asking themselves is, who, or what, is Mina, and why do so many people want to find her?

NOW:

Sam and I entered the old motel in Tulsa where Dean had left us and approached the front desk. It was late and the young man behind the desk appeared to be snoozing. Sam rung the little bell, and he sat up with a start. "Yessir, how can I help you?"

"We need to check in for the night. One room please." Sam knew I still was having issues with being alone while I was sleeping and my guard was down, and would refuse my own room. The young man nodded, scanned Sam's (probably, no, most certainly fake) credit card, and handed us a room key.

"It's outside to your left, on the end." The young man smiled. "If you need anything, just ring the front desk. I'll be here all night."

Sam and I nodded and thanked him, and hauled our bags to the motel room. As soon as we walked in, we realized the mistake we'd made. We'd forgotten to specify how many beds were going to be needed. This room had exactly one. A queen sized bed. And no couch. We looked at each other.

"Ummm." Sam stammered. "My bad. Let's just go back and ask for a room with two beds. You stay here. I'll be back."

I stayed outside while Sam went back in. He came out a few minutes later, looking sheepish. "This is the only room they have left."

"This place is booked?" I asked incredulously. He nodded. "Sometimes the cheap places get booked up really fast because-"

I held up my hand. "That's enough. Gross."

"You can go back in and ask. I swear I'm not lying."

"No, I trust you." I told him. "We're grown ass adults. We can handle sharing a bed for a night." I said. As long as he doesn't sleep without a shirt again... I thought to myself. We went back in and left our bags on the table. I let Sam take the first shower- he'd done a lot of the digging of Leticia Monroe's grave, and was pretty much filthy. I wasn't much better. He came out looking fresh and clean, and wearing lounge pants and a thin white v-neck tee, thank God. I smiled awkwardly and passed by him.

I took my time in the shower, letting the mirrors fog up. I practiced drawing devil's traps with soap on the shower wall. I shaved my legs, just in case. After nearly half an hour, I got out, wrapped myself in a towel, brushed my teeth, and realized my clothes were in my bag out in the room. Shit. I opened the door. Sam was in bed, on the right hand side. Well, I gotta get my clothes, I thought to myself. I strode out into the motel room in my towel like I thought nothing of it, trying my hardest not to look at Sam. Despite not looking at him, I could tell he was looking at me. It felt like his eyes were burning holes into my back. I quickly picked up my knapsack and hightailed it back into the bathroom.

Once safely inside, I threw on my pajamas, which luckily were super not sexy. It was fall, and it was cold, and I slept in lounge pants and a tee shirt too. I left the bathroom, tossed my sack back on the table, and sat down on my side of the bed to comb out my hair. I could feel Sam looking at me, even though he was pretending to look at his laptop. I put the brush down and turned to him. "What are you looking up?"

He seemed embarrassed. "Mostly just putting in all of the answers to the questions we've been asking you, and trying to come out with an answer."

"You're getting nowhere, huh?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. Less than nothing." He looked at me and smiled. "You're an enigma, what can I say?"

I chuckled. "I'm hardly an enigma. You two know all about me now."

"We know what we need to know for the job." Sam admitted. "And we know you're tough. A lot tougher than most of the people we meet along the way. And not nearly as stupid." I raised my eyebrows. "You'd be surprised at the stupid shit people do when we tell them to stay safe."

"I can imagine. Like in a horror movie. Everyone separates and then goes and hides in the attic and the graveyard." I smiled. "You're right. Basically, we know nothing about each other." I got under the covers.

"But other than that, I pretty much know nothing about you except you work in a lingerie store, and love Sprite."

"So why don't you start?"

"Start what?" Sam asked, closing his laptop and putting it on the nightstand next to his gun and the demon blade.

"Getting to know me." I lay down and turned towards him. He looked slightly intrigued and a tad uncomfortable. This made me feel good.

He turned the light off and lay down, facing me. There was still a good foot of space between us. "I feel like I should know the men I'm riding with a little better." I told him. "I mean, a girl can never be too careful."

I could see Sam smile widely in the pale moonlight drifting through the window. "I'm an open book." He said. "But I'll admit, you might not like what you find out. I'm not the good guy everyone thinks I am." He sounded a little wistful.

"We've all had our dark days, Sam." I said gently. "I'll start simple. I already know you grew up on the road. But after that. How was Stanford?"

I could see him smile again, a big, toothy grin. "Stanford was amazing. I loved my classes. I found something that I was good at, besides killing. I learned something new every day. I had a beautiful girlfriend..." He trailed off.

"Jess."

"How'd you know that?"

"Dean told me a little bit. When we were hunting the werewolf. I noticed you were acting a little bit strangely. He told me why." I admitted. "Nothing too deep. And, Sam, I know it's been a long time, but I'm really sorry about Jess."

"Over a decade." He was quiet for a moment. "I can still see her face when I think of her. But now, she's a happy memory. She reminds me of good times."

I wasn't buying that completely, but most of it was probably true. This man had known a lot of heartache, but he wasn't going to tell it to me. Or anyone, probably. Dean was the only one who would ever know even the half of it.

"What about you? You grew up in Ridgecrest?" Sam changed the subject, shifting slightly to get more comfortable. This brought him a little closer to me.

I nodded. "Born and raised. Tried college. Wasn't really for me. Started working retail young. Moved up in the ranks, bounced around to different stores. Did a stint as a phone psychic, which requires no psychic ability whatsoever. Started selling lingerie."

I heard him chuckle. "What kind of lingerie?"

"That seems like a Dean kind of question." I smiled and nudged him.

"That's just a guy kind of question." He said. I could tell he was smiling that huge grin again.

"Oh, I sold the really slutty stuff. The things strippers and call girls wear, and people who want to spice up their relationships by getting really wild." I paused for a moment. "I was really good at it too."

"I've got to say, if I were Dean I'd be asking if you owned any of that lingerie." Sam laughed. "BUT, I'm not Dean, so I'm not going to ask."

I laughed with him. "We got a 30% discount, I'll leave it at that."

"Any great loves of your life?" He asked, more seriously. "If it's not prying."

"Yes, there've been a few. One in particular. We lived together for a while. We were young- so young. We just couldn't get ourselves straightened out. I think he lives in Cleveland now." I paused, remembering. It was still heartache for me, not happiness. "But I moved on."

"Anyone now?"

"No. Just me." I snaked my hand up under my pillow, trying to get comfortable in this motel bed that I was sharing with a man-giant, and it brushed his. I quickly moved it. "What about you?"

I could feel him shake his head. "Nobody. There was someone a while ago. She kind of... made me see the good in a normal life again. But that's a life I can't have, at least not now. And there was one a while ago." He paused for so long, I thought he had fallen asleep. He finally spoke. "A demon."

"A demon huh?"

"It's a long story." He seemed hesitant.

"Its a long night. And possibly a long day tomorrow. What with Dean and whoever this Garth guy is out hunting without us." I smirked. "And leaving you on babysitting duty."

Sam suddenly moved his hand over to mine, under the pillows. Our fingers were just barely touching. "Don't feel that way. Djinn are really messed up creatures. We've both almost gotten ourselves killed several times hunting them. There was no way we would let anyone new to this try it. Not even if you really were Xena. They drug you. They give you the perfect life inside of your head, until they bleed you dry."

I shuddered at the thought and let out a sigh. "To be honest, I'm glad he left us. I want to find out who murdered Leticia Monroe."

"We can do that. Or try to. We have our badges."

"About that... Who's idea was it to name me Special Agent Joan Jett?"

Sam chuckled. "That was Dean's. Of course. You're lucky you weren't rolling with Agents BonJovi and Sixx or something. I'm consistently surprised by the names people will believe, when taken out of the rock genre context." He rolled a little closer to me, his knuckles resting against mine. He moved his had away suddenly.

"You don't have to move, Sam. I won't bite."

"I know. I just... it's been a while since I've had any kind of... anything really." He laced his fingers with mine. "It's nice to get to know someone."

"You were going to tell me about the Demon girlfriend. Or not. It's up to you."

Sam let out a long, deep breath. "There's a LOT you don't know about me, and if you knew half of it, you'd swear you were safer hunting Djinn with Dean. But I'll start small. Her name was Ruby, and she was beautiful and funny and she helped us, or made us think she was. But even though she ended up screwing us over, she saved our asses a lot..." Sam told me the story of Ruby, Lillith, and the release of Lucifer. After that, he seemed exhausted and a little concerned that I'd judge him. I ran my thumb over his knuckles, smiled at him, and we fell asleep.

Sam woke up halfway through the night. The moon had gone down below the hills. He'd heard something. Or thought he had. He turned to Mina. She was on her back, fast asleep. He crept out of bed, and methodically checked the salt lines and devil's traps at the entrances. He double checked their hex bags. He was pretty sure there was no way anything could know where they were. But he heard something. Outside the window. Mina began to stir. "What is it Sam? Is something wrong?" She asked groggily. Then she looked at the window and froze. Sam looked at the window too. He saw nothing. But Mina hadn't frozen for long. She lunged to the table and grabbed the rock-salt shotgun out of Sam's bag, aiming it at the window. Sam grabbed it from her at the last minute, before she could fire.

"What the FUCK, Sam?" I yelled at him as he tore the gun from my hands. "She's out there!"

"Who's out there?" Sam walked to the window and drew back the light curtains. "There's no one out there."

I gripped his arm and pulled him away from the window. "Leticia Monroe is out there." I looked back. She was staring angrily at us, unable to get in because of the salt. "We burned her bones. How is she still here?"

"Sometimes a spirit latches on to an item... and we have to find the item." Sam explained. "She's really out there? I don't-"

Suddenly Leticia's beautiful, pale face contorted into an ugly caricature of her former self, and she shrieked and pounded on the window.

"Ok." Sam stated bluntly. "I can see her now."

I looked at him. "You seem awfully calm."

He shrugged. "She can't get in." He looked at the clock. "It'll be morning soon. We'll Fed-up and go asking around. Someone has to know about her."

"Isn't she going to be, you know, upset, that we burned her body? And try to nab us during the day?"

"Maybe. Usually night is when they come calling though." He gestured towards the bed. "I'll stay up. You get some sleep."

I laid back on the bed, but sleep was not happening. What had started as a nice evening with a new companion had turned sinister very quickly. And if the ghoulies came out at night, that meant we had tomorrow only to find whatever Leticia Monroe had latched onto and destroy it. Or we'd be facing this scenario again.

"Are you even sure the Djinn are still IN this town, Garth?" Dean asked. Garth looked over at him from the driver's eat of his El Camino, Bobby's trucker hat pulled down low over his scruffy brown hair.

He smiled a huge grin. "Of course I'm sure, Dean. I wouldn't have called you out for no reason." He turned left on Main street and parked in front of a ramshackle building. "They figured out someone was looking for them and moved. But there are more than I could handle. So naturally I called you. Bobby always said you were the best at hunting Djinn."

"Bobby never said that." Dean hated riding bitch in an El Camino, of all cars. "He probably said I friggin hate Djinn."

"That works too." Garth said cheerfully. Garth was always happy. And always appeared slightly out of it. It was, to be honest, a miracle the guy hadn't been killed on his first hunt, let alone lived this long. "But, Dean, I've been doing some research into your case too."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Mina?"

Garth nodded. "I think I figured it out, man. And it makes ganking a few Djinn seem like child's play."

Sam stayed in a chair by the window with the shotgun for the rest of the night, but Leticia Monroe's ghost had calmed down. I could see from the bed that she was roaming listlessly. At some point I must have fallen asleep, because all of a sudden light was pouring in the room, I could smell coffee, and, opening my eyes, I could see Sam sitting at his laptop at the table, dressed in his fake-FBI suit. I got up and sat across from him. He looked up and gestured to the coffee. "It's really not as bad as that stuff at the last place." He smiled and went back to his laptop. I got a mug and sat back down. "So, I figure, obviously now, figuring out who killed Leticia Monroe has gone beyond curiosity and become necessity." He turned the laptop around. Several windows were open, but the main one was an obituary. "She's survived by her parents and a sister. All here in Tulsa."

I nodded. "So we get the police report, and then we go question her relatives?" I was a little lost, and not afraid to admit it.

"Whatever object is keeping Leticia here, probably now belongs to one of her relatives." Sam explained. "We find it, we salt and burn it, game over." He took a long drink of coffee.

I nodded. "I'd still really like to find out who killed her." I couldn't leave poor Leticia forgotten. She'd been run down in a parking garage for God's sakes.

Sam nodded slowly. "We should try to figure that out too, because the longer it takes to find her object, the higher the body count may become."

I got up and retreated to the restroom, got ready for the day, put on my suit, double checked my ridiculous FBI badge, and emerged ready to go. We went to the Tulsa PD first, and flashed our badges at the receptionist. She showed us in to the detective who had worked the Monroe case. Her name was Detective Genova Ward, and she was less than thrilled to see Feds, but Sam seemed to brighten her day.

"I'm Agent Smith, this is my colleague, Agent Jett." Sam nodded at me. "We're looking into the killing of Leticia Monroe. It was three months ago, on August 8th, at the parking garage of Shelby, Shelby, & Moore, Inc." He was playing it straight to the point.

"I can give you what you need, but why are the Feds looking into this? It looks like it was a simple hit and run." Detective Ward leaned forward on her desk, raising an eyebrow at Sam.

"That's Federal business, Detective. I can't disclose it."

She nodded. "Of course you can't." Picking up the phone, she said "Wanda, could you make copies of everything in the Leticia Monroe file? Yes, bring it to my office, thank you." She looked back at Sam, then to me, then back to Sam. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

I shook my head. "No, thank you, you've been very helpful. If we find anything we'll let you know."

We exited the office. The receptionist took a few minutes to finish copying the files, then handed them to us and we went across the street to a small diner, to peruse the file and for breakfast. Sam ordered something super healthy. I wasn't quite as bad as Dean when it came to breakfast, but I needed eggs or something.

We ordered, then opened the file up anxiously. Any trace of our intimacy the night before had now been replaced with pure professionalism. There wasn't much in the file, to be honest. She'd left late and not been found until the next morning when the morning janitor came to work. She'd been struck from behind, thrown against a cement pillar, and died of extensive internal injuries. The only clue was a single gold fleck of paint fount on her neck, which hadn't been matched to any auto paint. The building used actual keys, not key cards, so there was no record of anyone leaving around the time that Leticia had been killed, and it wouldn't have mattered anyways- she worked late a lot and anyone could have been in that garage waiting for her.

Phone records indicated that she'd had a productive love life at the office, but we'd already known that. They had all been questioned thoroughly, and the police came up with nothing. It had quickly gone cold.

"So who do we talk to first?" I asked.

"I think we should talk to her parents first, then the sister. But I also want to check out Mr. Moore's wife." Sam was reading a piece of paper. I scooted to his side of the booth to read over his shoulder. It said that the Moore's had been out of town the week that Leticia was killed. Mr. Moore had been visiting his parents. Mrs. Moore had been visiting old sorority sisters.

"Why Mrs. Moore?" I asked.

"I'm not sure. Call it a hunch. It seems weird that they were conveniently gone when Leticia, who was known to get around the office, was killed." Sam shrugged. "We may be chasing our tails."

Our food came and I went back to my side of the booth. "All right. Well, why don't you-" I stopped.

"What is it?" Sam asked, concerned. I was staring over his shoulder. Leticia was standing there. "She's behind me, isn't she?" He asked. I nodded. He slowly turned. She looked at him wistfully, and pointed to the paper with the Moore's on it, then at her fingers. She kept doing that, then faded.

"What the hell was that?" I asked. "What is the point of having a moderately helpful ghost if she actually isn't helpful and likes to murder people?"

I mean, I got what was going on. She thought those men had wronged her, and they probably had. She was picking off anyone who may have killed her. I had a sudden thought. Sam had the same one, because we both looked at each other, stood up, and, after tossing some money on the table, bolted for our "borrowed" car. Leticia was on her way to the Moore's.

We pulled up in front of a huge brick house with green wrought iron decorating the patio. We got out. We didn't hear any screaming, so that was probably good. Approaching the door, Sam knocked three times and waited.

We didn't wait long, before a lithe woman in her forties opened the door. She was absolutely beautiful, and looked a lot like Leticia Monroe. Long dark hair cascaded down her back, and she had on a dark business suit. "Yes?" She purred, looking both Sam and myself up and down. She languished against the doorjamb.

We pulled the badges. "Agents Smith and Jett." Sam explained. "We're here about the death of Leticia Monroe. May we come in and ask a few questions?"

"Oh that poor woman. I've only met her once or twice, what could I possibly know?" Mrs. Moore asked, but she stepped back and led us into an opulent foyer, and then left into a sitting room. She moved like oil moves through water. I noticed, and Sam definitely noticed.

She gestured for us to sit down and then took a seat herself. "It was a horrible tragedy. Absolutely awful." She stated, but the awfulness of the situation didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Yes, it was, and we suspect foul play. So we're going back over everything." Sam explained. "It says you were visiting sorority sisters on the night of August 8th. Is that correct?"

She shrugged. "It must be, if that's what I said earlier. I don't remember, but I can check my itinerary." Sam nodded. "Excuse me for one moment." She got up and left the room.

"Sam!" I turned to him and hissed/whispered. "Her nail polish."

"It's gold." Sam nodded. "When she get's back, ask to use the bathroom. Go look for it."

"Oh Jesus. Seriously?" I asked. He nodded just as she walked back into the room with a day planner. I stood up. "May I use your restroom, please?"

She looked up. "Of course, of course." She pointed a perfectly manicured gold nail down the hall. "It's all the way at the end, to the right. She sat down with her book and I hightailed it out the swinging door to the hallway.

I did a cursory look through the downstairs bath, but knew that she wouldn't keep her nail polishes down there. Hearing her and Sam still conversing, I snuck up the stairs. I checked a few rooms. Two guest rooms, a guest bath, a room belonging to a teenage boy, and then the master bedroom. I didn't even look at the expensive décor. I raced into the bathroom, tore through the woman's stuff, found three bottles of different gold polish, and committed them to memory. As I was leaving the master bedroom, a voice behind me made me jump. "Who are you?"

I turned around. A boy of about 16 was standing at the door to one of the bedrooms. "I, uh, I got lost."

"Sure you did." He glared at me.

I showed him my badge. "FBI. I'm allowed to be here. So calm the fuck down, kid, and go back in your room."

Not surprisingly, this tactic did not work.

"She's a- those exist?" Dean looked at Garth incredulously. He'd made Garth explain what his hunch about Mina was before they went to hunt any Djinn, just in case something happened to him.

Garth nodded. "So far as I can tell, there's no reason one can't exist. There's also no reason anyone would want one to." He paused. "It took a while to work that one out, but I used the ol' noggin."

"I've been here less than 24 hours. When did you research this?"

"When you were out last night at that bar. Duh."

Dean rolled his eyes at the "Duh."

"There's a whole file on my laptop, man, just in case I don't make it out of here alive." Garth got serious.

"Garth, don't say that. We'll be fine. Just be careful. And- hey, man, don't hug me!"

"Mooooom!" The teenager shrieked and took off down the hallway. "There's a weird lady looking through your room!"

I felt the blood rush to my face. I felt like I was going to die. Calm down, Mina, you aren't going to die. Probably Mrs. Moore doesn't have a gun and won't shoot you. I forced myself to walk downstairs like I belonged there and had every right in the world to go through her bathroom cabinets.

Mrs. Moore was at the bottom of the stairs and boy, was she livid. "What the hell are you doing in my room?" She yelled. "Get out! I don't care, get out! OUT!" She pointed her murderous golden fingertip at the front door. "I'll have both of you arrested!"

"Mrs. Moore, you let us in. We're the Feds. You CAN'T have us arrested." Sam lied. He snuck a look at me and gestured with his eyes for me to get the hell out of the house.

"I'll SUE." Mrs. Moore was on a roll.

"You really can't do that either." Sam told her, shuffling me out the door. He turned. "If you think of anything else please give us a call-" The door was slammed in his face. He turned to me and mouthed "What the fuck just happened?"

"I don't know." I replied. We walked back to the car. "She's got a teenage son. How was I supposed to know the snot nosed little wuss would be upstairs and tattle on me? I tried to dissuade him."

"How? What'd you say? He sounded freaked out."

I paused. "Um. Well, I told him to calm the fuck down and go to his room."

Sam turned and looked at me oddly, then burst out laughing. "You actually told him to calm the fuck down and go to his room?" I nodded. "Holy shit, that's the most amazing thing I've heard said while incognito as an agent, and Dean says a LOT of crazy shit."

"I guess I'll take that as a compliment." I said. "Or rather, an awesome point for me."

Sam nodded. "I wonder why Leticia didn't show up... and when she will. We should hit the parent's now."

I nodded. "I think you should leave me here." I said. Sam looked doubtful. "Hear me out."

"All right."

"She's gonna come for Mrs. Moore. Someone's got to protect the horrible bitch so she can get thrown in the slammer instead. You go find the object and do whatever hoodoo shit you do to get rid of the ghost. I'll stay here with your rock salt gun and keep an eye out."

"One problem. You know she's figured out why you were in her bathroom. She's dumping those polishes as we speak." Sam sighed.

"Luckily I took photos of those nail polish bottles, in case she tossed them." I smiled. Sam smiled back, that big, wide smile with lots of pearly white teeth. "Ain't no grass growing up here." I said, pointing at my head.

Sam begrudgingly left Mina to skulk around the Moore household, and headed to the home of Roger and Christine Monroe, Leticia's parents. He parked out front of their modest bungalow. There were no cars in the drive, and he was concerned they might not be there. But even if they weren't, he had an idea of what to look for.

He walked up the three front steps, and knocked several times. There was no answer. Checking to see if the coast was clear, he pulled out his lock pick and was in the house in under a minute.

It was small, but clean and modern. He made his way down the hall. There wouldn't be an "old bedroom" full of Leticia's things that he could search- she had been nearly forty, successful, and not lived at home in many years. He was looking for something more specific. He finally found it in the bookshelf in Roger and Christine's room. It was a baby book. Inside were photos of all of Leticia's "firsts"- her first step, her first smile, and her first haircut. Tied in a nice little bow was a lock of brown hair.

Sam's phone rang. He looked at it. It was Mina's new number. He picked up.

"Sam, she's here, and she's pissed. And how the fuck do you kick a door down?" He heard from the other end of the line.

"Shit. Okay. Stand next to the door with your back to it, and kick backwards under the knob." He heard a huge commotion and figured it had worked. "Are you in?" He heard a shotgun blast. "Guess so." He tore the hair out of the baby book, tossed it in the sink, threw some salt on it, and burned it. He could hear yelling and hysteria on the other end of the line, Mina telling everyone to shut the fuck up, and then silence.

"Mina?" He asked tentatively. "Mina?"

"I'm here, Sam. And Leticia's gone."

It was after eight by the time Sam and I were through with our day. He'd picked me up from Mrs. Moore's house. We'd snipped a lock of his hair and tied it in a pink ribbon, and snuck it back into the Monroe's baby book, so they would never know what had happened. We'd gone back to the hotel, emailed the evidence to the detective, and hoped that she'd do something with it. Then we'd changed into normal clothes and went to get some food at a diner down the road.

I fell into bed that night and was asleep before Sam even got out of the shower. We'd requested a room with two beds this time. Sleeping near Sam had been nice, but we didn't know each other that well and it was nice to be back to normal.

I awoke the next morning to the sound of Sam's cell phone ringing. He looked at the screen, took the call, and got out of his bed. "Hang on Dean. Mina's asleep still. Lemme go outside." He crossed the room and went out the door. "You're where? Okay. Hey, be careful. And take Cas with you. Are you sure you don't want any help?" There was a pause. "Well, that's great news! What info did Garth find?" More of a pause. "Seriously, you won't tell me over the phone? You're worse than Frank Deveroux. Yeah, yeah. Don't do anything stupid Dean. We'll see you tomorrow." He came back in the room, started some coffee, and sat on his bed. I turned towards him inquisitively.

"You heard my conversation?" He asked. I nodded, raising an eyebrow. "Dean says Garth found out some useful information for us, about you. But he won't tell me over the phone."

I let that sink in. That couldn't be good news then, could it? Instead I asked "Who is Garth, anyways?"

Sam smiled. "Garth is... a hugger." He laughed. "Garth is the most laid back hunter ever. He gets drunk off of one beer. But he's good at his job. He kind of took it upon himself to take over as, lore master, I guess you could say, when Bobby was killed and I took some time off. And, he's the guy who ganked the tooth fairy. One of them."

I sighed. "I'm actually pretty distraught about this tooth fairy thing." I said. "I just thought it was a kindly fairy who gave me a quarter for a tooth. Not a monster."

Sam shrugged. "What're you gonna do, right?" He stood up. "I'm gonna walk down to the coffee shop a few blocks over. I can't do this hotel coffee again. You want to come?"

I pondered it, but I didn't want to get out of bed yet. "No thanks. I'll stay back and shower and get ready for the day." He nodded. "I'll grab you a latte."

He got dressed and left. He wasn't gone more than a minute when he came back into the room.

"Forget something?" I asked. I had gotten up and was looking through my backpack. I'd have to hit the laundromat today.

"Do you want to go out to dinner with me? Tonight?" Sam asked quickly.

"We have dinner every night."

"No, I mean, like, can I take you out to dinner. Like a date." He all of a sudden seemed unsure of himself.

I paused. I really wanted to say yes, but was this a good idea? I think I paused for too long because he started to retreat. "Nevermind." He said. "I'll be back in a few."

"No, Sam, wait!" I said. He stopped. "Yes."

"Yes?"

"Yes. I'll have dinner with you." I nodded. "A date."

"You realize that if this goes badly it could make things really awkward." Sam hedged.

I nodded. "Of course. But let's do it anyways."

He smiled the biggest grin I'd seen him smile yet.

"I have some errands to run today then." I said. He looked at me questioningly. "Well, I have to get a dress to wear."

I guess you can't really say that Sam "picked me up" for our date that night, seeing as we were staying in the same motel room. But he was already showered by the time I got back to the room, and he got ready in the bedroom while I took my time getting ready in the bathroom. I had found a black backless dress at a thrift store (I was saving my dollars since I was unable to use a debit card), and some cute shoes with a tiny kitten heel (in case I had to run, which wasn't out of the question when hanging out with either Winchester). I'm kind of a wash-and-wear girl, plus I hadn't thought to bring a blow-dryer while fleeing from demons, so I pulled my hair into a short side ponytail, did the makeup thing, added a few extra layers of mascara and some perfume, and emerged from the bathroom.

Sam was sitting at the table. He closed his laptop and stood up as I came out. He looked amazing. He had on a deep grey button up shirt with his sleeves rolled up partway and two buttons undone at his neck, some black slacks, and he'd found a pair of black and grey wingtips somewhere. I didn't peg him for a shoe guy, but I hadn't known him long. His hair just brushed the collar of his shirt.

He apparently thought I look spectacular as well, because he just looked at me for a few seconds before clearing his throat and saying "You look amazing."

"I dunno, Sam, you might be showing me up. You look pretty good too." I winked and he smiled his huge smile. "Where are we going?" I asked as we exited the room. He locked up behind us and opened the passenger door for me on our "borrowed" car.

"It's a surprise." He said, sliding into the driver's seat. To be honest, we were both way to tall to be driving around in a Toyota Yaris, but it was nondescript and once we'd switched the plates out, it was pretty safe as far as stolen cars go.

"You spend a lot of time in Tulsa?" I asked, smiling. "You know where all the good places are?"

He chuckled. "Nah. I've been here a few times, but you know how Dean is about his diner food. And Biggerson's." He paused. "He definitely got over the Biggerson's phobia from a few years ago."

"Did something happen with Biggerson's?" I asked. His eyes slid towards me, like he was trying to decide how much to tell me.

He shrugged, and I could see him mentally say "fuck it" and start talking. "Yeah. Dick Roman- the Presidential hopeful a few years ago who bought up all those companies. You remember him?"

I nodded. "Kind of douchey, right?"

Sam nodded. "Extremely douchey. But, yeah, he was a monster that Cas accidentally let out from purgatory when he was playing God, and Biggerson's was where they tested products on people."

"Wait wait wait... Dick Roman went missing, so I'm assuming that was you guys." I said and Sam nodded. "But Cas was God? And God is missing? And Cas let Dick Roman out of purgatory? There's a purgatory?"

"There's a Heaven and a Hell, too. Trust me on that." He continued. "Purgatory is full of monsters. And at one point, Dean and Cas, but they got out. And Dick Roman was originally just a douchebag- a monster decided to become his clone and eat him."

"Oh." I nodded. "Another day at the office."

"Pretty much." Sam smiled and kept driving, the headlights from other cars casting shadows across his face.

"YOU SAID FOUR DJINN, GARTH" Dean yelled as the two hunters ran down a long corridor. "I COUNT SEVEN."

"I miscalculated." Garth responded, yanking the door at the end of the hallway open, and slamming it shut behind them. He and Dean barricaded it with a large armoire.

"That's a friggin' steep miscalculation, dude." Dean frowned. He could hear the Djinn on the other side of the door, banging on it. "I sure as hell hope Cas has nothing better to do." He closed his eyes. "Cas, man, if you can hear me-"

The sound of wings filled the air and he heard a familiar voice. "I can always hear you, Dean." Cas replied matter-of-factly. The screaming Djinn didn't seam to phase him.

"Cas!" Garth said joyfully, and went in for a hug. Cas accepted it awkwardly. "My man, what's up?"

Cas looked at him confusedly. "The sky is up. And if you mean what is happening, well, you appear to be hiding from some angry Djinn." He stopped and listened for a second. "Five. Five angry Djinn. Because you already killed two. That made them more angry."

"You think?" Dean rolled his eyes. "There were only supposed to be four, but Garth here "miscalculated."

"That is quite an impressive miscalculation." Cas agreed flatly. "Nevertheless, we should probably dispatch the rest." He moved the armoire and opened the door. Five angry humanoids tumbled in.

"God damn it, Cas." Dean yelled. "You don't have the right weapon." Both he and Garth had silver knives dipped in lambs blood.

"You're right." Cas said, and disappeared.

"Shit. Perfect." Dean swore as he got tackled by two Djinn. He stabbed upwards blindly, catching one in the gut. It cried out in agony and keeled over off of him. The second one threw a punch and got him in the face. Garth was pinned against the wall by another, and the other two were circling. Dean tried to stab the male Djinn straddling him in the neck, but another, a woman, grabbed his arm and tried to pry the knife from his hands. He gripped it tight. "That's mine, bitch!" He yelled, somehow bucking the Djinn off of him and throwing the female across the room. When the male came back at him, he knifed it in the throat.

Garth had gotten free with a firm kick to the nuts. Dean raised his eyebrows. Apparently Djinn had testicles. He stabbed the crouched over Djinn in the back.

The last one had a big knife. Like really big. A machete, basically. The three circled each other, waiting for a chance, any chance, to strike.

Suddenly Cas appeared behind the Djinn, slicing it's throat.

"Where the hell did you go, man?" Dean asked him harshly. "We almost got killed in here!"

Cas looked at him strangely. "To get a silver blade with lambs blood, of course."

The restaurant was nice. Really nice. It was a small Italian place, with candles on every table, red and white checked tablecloths, linen napkins, and expensive wine.

Sam and I had picked out a Merlot and were enjoying the evening. The appetizer had been cleared and we were waiting for our main dishes. We had requested a booth in the corner, for some privacy.

"So then, I get pulled out of the hell pit. Only, they forgot and left my soul in there. With Lucifer and Michael." Sam was telling me. I was riveted. These brothers had the most amazing and tragic lives ever.

"What did you do?"

"I hunted with my Grandfather and some cousins for a year. I let Dean have a normal life." He paused. "I did a lot of bad things."

"Well, you had no soul. I mean, what can ya do, right?"

"You're taking this awfully well."

"I'm drinking delicious wine in a nice restaurant with a tall, handsome, dangerous stranger." I smiled. "Tell me more. You obviously got your soul back. How'd that happen?"

"Oh, Death got it back for me. Put it back in." Sam smiled and rubbed his chest absentmindedly. "That hurts, a lot."

"Death? As in the horseman?" I was still riveted.

"One and the same. He and Dean are kind of, buddies, I guess. Turns out the guy is a major foodie." Sam trailed off. "I might have gotten the name of this place from him..."

I giggled. "You asked one of the Four Horsemen for dinner suggestions?"

He nodded. "The other three were asses. Death isn't so bad. He's kind of grumpy though."

I sat back in my chair as the waitress brought out plates of food, then took another long drink of wine.

"So tell me about your life." Sam leaned forward, picking up his fork. "Enough about doom and gloom and-"

"Apocalyptic riders suggesting a good Italian place?" I grinned. "To be honest, compared to what you do, my life isn't even worth talking about."

"So not true." He said.

"How's that?"

"We do what we do, so that people can live normal lives. So that they never have to know what's out there." He took a bite of lasagna.

"I guess I didn't think of it that way." I ate a few bites of linguine and then told him about the store that I was the assistant manager for. "Well, I used to be assistant manager. Pretty sure I'm fired by now for not showing up." I shrugged. "You know, I had better shit to do. Demons to run from. Ghosts to kill."

"I hope Garth is right about whatever he discovered. Knowing what makes you so special will put us at an advantage." Sam's tone was even but I could see he was worried.

"Is it bad that Dean won't tell you over the phone?" I asked. "Because to be honest, I'm kind of worried I'm some monster you two are going to have to kill."

"Oh God, no." Sam reached across the table and took my hand. "I will NOT let that happen. But it won't happen anyways. Dean's just busy and paranoid and frankly, enjoys being an asshole sometimes." We both smiled at that. "Plus, we don't know that Garth is correct."

"Shit, I'm paranoid. I have angels and demons hunting me." I moaned. "All I do is sell underwear!"

After dinner, we weren't ready to go back yet, so we stopped at a little bar for a drink. We slid into the same side of a back booth, both ordered a beer, and talked more. I was enthralled by their adventures. And surprisingly, Sam was every bit as interested in my day to day life. He thought the antics of my cat were hilarious. He thought waking up in the same place with sunlight streaming in the windows and the neighbors making too much noise on a Sunday morning was all fantastic.

The bar was small and trendy, the kind of bar that Sam said Dean would hate, but we were enjoying. We had been inching closer to each other all night. Finally, Sam put his arm around me. He took a long drink of his Rolling Rock beer and started to laugh.

"What?"

He shook his head. "I was just thinking of this story to tell you. About when Dean got Ghost Sickness." He waited a few seconds, pulling himself together. "Okay okay, so ghost sickness makes you get really scared of everything and then eventually your heart explodes."

I looked at him, horrified.

"Well obviously his didn't, because he's fine. But he was being chased by a, like, teacup Yorkie or something, and he thought it was going to kill him." Sam started laughing again. "The look on his face, if you bring it up- priceless."

"I'll save that information for a rainy day." I smiled, thinking of Dean running from anything, much less a Yorkie. "But what about you, Sam? I want to know more about you."

He thought for a minute. "I don't really know where I'm headed yet. I'm just on the road for the moment." He nodded. "And at a bar with a pretty girl who has tons of secrets. And I like it." He bent down and pressed his lips against mine in a soft kiss. I was surprised, but then pulled myself together, put my beer bottle down, and brought my hand up around the back of his neck. He kissed me gently for a minute or two. Then he pulled back.

"Wow." I breathed out. Then I giggled and took my last drink of beer.

"That was nice." Sam agreed.

"We should probably do more of it."

"Probably."

On the way back to the motel, we stopped at a gas station. I asked why we were stopping, because the fuel gauge said we had over half a tank.

"Honestly, I like to leave the cars we borrow with a full tank of gas when we leave them. Makes me feel better about stealing cars." Sam grinned, leaned over and kissed me, and got out to go pay for gas. I got out and followed him, to buy a Sprite.

There was only one person in the gas station- the attendant. Sam and I both grabbed our supplies, and went up to the counter. There was something off about the attendant. He was staring at us strangely.

"Just this stuff. And I need to fill up on 3." Sam told him. When the guy didn't respond, he asked him "Hey, are you alright?"

The attendant blinked, and when his eyes opened back up, they were solid black.

"Fuck." Sam and I said in unison.

The demon lunged over the counter, throwing me across the room with an invisible push, and tackling Sam. Sam wrestled with him, but got invisi-thrown into a rack of motor oil. He got his bearings and pulled out the Demon blade, getting to his feet.

The demon had turned his attention to me now, and came up and pulled me off of the floor. He started chanting something. Sam knocked him away from me, and jumped on him. He had tried to knock the demon away from me. The demon was holding on pretty tightly. I fell with them, so Sam was straddling the demon and the demon was gripping me by the arm, not letting go.

Suddenly everything got weird. It all got hazy. I could see Sam grappling with the demon, who had his other hand also on the Demon blade, and I turned quickly, yanking my arm out of his grasp. I slammed my palm down on the demon's forehead, and his skull glowed a ghostly orange and then he was dead. His limp body lay on the floor and Sam looked at me.

"What was that?" He asked.

"I don't know." I said, then my eyes began to roll up in my head and Sam caught me. He dragged me to the car, left some change on the counter for the Sprite, and, making sure I was all right, hightailed it out of there.

"Drink the soda." He told me. At the next stop light, he took my chin in his hand and turned me towards him, looking me over. "Hey. Stay with me. You're fine. Just startled. Drink the soda. You need the sugar." He opened it for me and shoved it into my hands. I did as I was told. Sam pulled out his phone and dialed a number. It rang for a while. No one picked up so he left a voice mail. "Dean, it's Sam. Listen, we're leaving Tulsa. It's too late to drive all the way to the bunker- I'll let you know where we end up. A demon found us. Mina killed him. But, Dean, she killed him the way Cas kills demons. Get your shit done with and get here quick. We want answers." He clicked the phone off.

Once we got to the motel, I was feeling much more oriented. We ran in, grabbed our belongings, and left. We drove south for about two hours, mostly in silence. I don't think either one of us knew what to say. About ten minutes outside of Tulsa, Sam reached over and took my hand. He laced his fingers through mine.

I looked over at him in the dim lights from the street lamps. "Well, that was weird, wasn't it?"

He nodded. "Very." We drove a few more miles in silence. "Not a bad ending to a really perfect evening, though."

I agreed. "I guess the gas station incident could have gone a whole lot worse. But please don't ask what happened. I have no idea. It just... happened."

Sam pulled the car over. I looked at him questioningly. He bent over and kissed me, hard and rough and passionate. I was stunned.

He pulled the car back onto the road and we continued on our way.

At one am we checked into a tiny motel in a tiny town south of Tulsa. To be honest, at first the incident of the evening had freaked me out. But then I think we'd both gotten an adrenaline rush from it. Sam kept hold of my hand the whole drive, and every once in a while he'd slide me a sideways glance, smile a devilish grin, and pull over for a kiss. At one point he hauled me over the center console on top of him. I hadn't seen this side of Sam before, but I liked it. We'd had a great date, then fought off a demon together. It wasn't perfect, but it worked.

By the time we got into the hotel, we were both eyeing each other like wild animals. We threw our bags down, and he went through the motions of salting all the entrances to the room and setting up the Devil's traps. Then he turned and grabbed me, tangling his hands in my hair and kissing me until I was gasping for breath. I reached for the buttons on his shirt and started undoing them. It was taking too long.

"Fuck this shirt" he said. I giggled. I finally got to the last button. I pulled it off of him hungrily, slid my hands up his sides to take his undershirt off, and threw it over my shoulder.

Sam picked me up and set me on the counter of the small kitchenette, hands up my dress. My panties were off in a flash. He held them up. They were black lace, and tiny. He smiled wolfishly. "Nice." I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him to me and biting his bottom lip. My dress got unbuttoned; his belt came off.

"You wanna do this?" He asked me.

I nodded. "Hell yes." He chuckled at that, and went to his bag for a condom. When he came back, he rolled it on, kissed me purposefully, and slowly pushed himself inside of me. I tightened my legs around him, pulling him in.

"Oh my God." He whispered into my neck. He thrust a few times, but the counter top was too short for him. He picked me up and tossed me on the bed. I laughed. He climbed back on top of me, sliding in again all the way. I caught my breath.

His hands expertly swept across my breasts, and down farther to my hips. His mouth found my nipples, and he alternated sucking and nipping at them. We flipped over, to where he was sitting and I was straddling on top of him, and I rode him as fast as I could, kissing him hard on the mouth. His fingers dug into my hip bones- my nails dug into his back. I could hardly handle it anymore when he slipped a hand between my legs and began to rub me.

Warmth swept over me as I orgasmed, biting his shoulder. His grip on me tightened as he came closely after me. Then he wrapped his arms around me, kissed me gently, and fell backwards onto the rumpled bed. I fell next to him.

"Was that just adrenaline?" I wondered aloud.

"No." Sam said. "I've been wanting to do that for a few days." He propped himself up on his elbow. "Was it just adrenaline for you?"

"No." I giggled. "Have you seen you? I've been wanting to do that for days, too. But especially once I got to know you."

He smiled, burrowing his face into my neck. "Other than the demon, tonight was amazing."

We fell asleep curled up with each other.

Sam woke up to a pounding at the door. "Sammy! Get up and let me in!" It was Dean. Sam started, then rolled out of bed, putting on his undershirt and pulling on some jeans. He opened the door.

Dean was standing outside impatiently. "I got info, and I'm starving." He peered over Sam's shoulder at Mina, who was still asleep, bundled under blankets. Sam was glad they'd had the forethought of getting a room with two beds, but also realized one had obviously not been used. He didn't want to hide what had happened from Dean- he just didn't really want to get into it yet. There'd be a certain amount of teasing he wasn't ready for this morning.

Dean continued. "Wake up Sleeping Beauty over there, and meet me at the diner across the street. I'm ordering bacon!" He took a few steps away. "Oh and Sam, you're shirt's on inside out..."

I heard a door shut and saw Sam come over to me. He climbed into bed behind me, and his hands started exploring my body. "Time to get up." He whispered. I giggled, flipped over, and climbed on top of him. He leaned up to kiss me.

There was another pounding on the door. "Hurry up! Pronto! This news is BIG!" Deans voice came through the door.

Sam sighed. "Rain-check?" He looked at me, arching his brows hopefully.

"As soon as possible." I nodded.

We got dressed. We both agreed that Dean knowing too much about last night's intimacy wasn't the best idea just yet, so while Sam was in the bathroom, I pulled the covers back on the other bed to make it look slept in. He came out with his shirt off, pointing at a bruise on his shoulder. "You did this to me!" He said accusatorily, but smiling.

"Hey, it's because of what you were doing to me." I said. "Just be happy it's nowhere visible."

He took two long strides across the room, caught me in his arms, and kissed me. Then he put on his shirt and we walked across the street to the diner.

Dean was in a back booth, along with Cas. We could see that he'd ordered us coffee already, and he was looking at the menu hungrily. We slid into the booth.

"Ok. I need to know." I said. I stared at him. "Give it to me straight. What's wrong with me?"

"Princess, nothing's wrong with you, but this is gonna be hard to wrap your head around." Dean began. "I mean, I've heard of some crazy stuff and it's hard to wrap my head around it."

"Just tell me!"

"All right. Well, as far as Garth is concerned, and after the demon killing last night and talking it over with Cas..."

"What? I'm not a demon am I? Or a monster?"

Dean shook his head. "You're a hybrid."

"Of what?"

"What Dean is trying, and failing, to say," began Cas, "is that you are in fact half angel, half demon."

Stay tuned for Episode 3: It Looks Like the Road to Heaven, but Feels Like the Road to Hell