DISCLAIMER: You know what goes here.

A/N: Alright, yo. This is super short 'cause I've been sitting on it for three months now, but my new job's a beotch and leaves no time for creativity. NEVER sell your soul for $9.50 an hour. No matter how broke you are. It's not worth it. Anyway, I'm still fighting the good fight, but I had to give y'all something, so here you are.

Dean, Sam and Anna were sprawled across the two beds in the boys' room, each working their way through a different part of the file from Bowen. Anna moved faster through the material, immediately discarding anything on local buildings and structures. What they were looking for was alive, not decorative.

The case had first come to Sam and Dean's attention in the now normal way: random coordinates and a URL from their father via a dead email account. There was no way to track the message back to the sender, and Sam and Dean were left with a job they couldn't walk away from. This job seemed particularly tricky, though, since the list of victims seemed random, with nothing connecting them, and decades between the attacks. The only similarity was that all the victims were male, but seeing the places they were usually found, cemeteries, docks, deep-woods campsites, that wasn't a particularly surprising clue. The only other similarity between the men was the manner in which they were killed: throats slit, runic symbols carved into the flesh of their chest and torso, hearts ripped out by what appeared to be a claw punching through the ribcage.

The trio had reviewed the case files several times each, and now they were hoping to find a lead in the papers collected by Bowen. Most of the information was purely academic, forcing them to create several piles of Yes, No and Huh. Anna sighed as she tossed another photocopied page into the No pile. Anna was becoming frustrated, particularly by a reference point she kept seeing, but was unfamiliar with. She dug through the Huh pile and noticed the same reference material cited on almost every single page.

"Sam?"

Sam loked up from his stacks to see Anna digging through every single stack, pulling papers from each at random, a frown on her face.

"Yeah?"

"I keep seeing a citation on these essays and notes-"

"Pastor B., Private Journals, volume whatever?" Sam nodded. He had run across the same reference several times himself.

"Yeah," she bit her lip. "What about you, Dean? The same?"

Dean looked from Anna to Sam with a deer in headlights expression.

"Dragonflies?"

Anna laughed and tossed her papers to one side while Sam shook his head and returned to his reading. Anna crawled off her bed and over to the boys' to lean over Dean's shoulder. She bit her lip and scanned the page in Dean's hand for the reference while he just stared at her profile, mesmerized by the swelling of her lips from the pressure. She smelled of leather, from the Impala, coffee, from Starbucks, and wildflowers, from her perfume. Dean had to fight not to turn his head, ever so slightly, and kiss her.

"Ha!" Anna cried and draped her arms over Dean's shoulders in a hug. "You have it too!"

Too quickly for Dean's taste, Anna moved away from the bed and toward their luggage. She ignored the Winchesters' laptop and pulled out her own VAIO, pressing the power button before she even reached the table to sit down. Dean and Sam followed her movment for a few short minutes, amused at the frenzied impatience she displayed while waiting for the wi-fi connection.

"Finally," she breathed and began clicking and typing like mad. Sam threw Dean a grin before they both resumed reading. Several grunts and curses later, they were both startled by a triumphant shout from Anna who ignored them both to pull out her phone, pressing a speed-dial option.

"Come on, come on. Answer." Anna stood and began pacing in front of the small table. "Hello? Hi this is Anna in the- Yes, Aunt Clara, how are- I'm fine. No. No Bill is- That's ni- No, I'm still not- Anna MacKeary." Anna rolled her eyes and banged the phone against her forehead. Dean and Sam fought to keep their laughter silent.

"What was that? Sorry. No, must have been static. No, I'm still hunt-" Anna shut her eyes in a silent scream. "No, Aunt Clara, I- the Winchesters." Anna listened in silence for a few moments. "Yes, Clara, John Winchester's sons." Anna blushed red and suddenly couldn't meet Dean's eyes.

"No, Clara, I'm not. No. Yes, I- Sort of. No, I haven't. Actually that's not why I-" Anna blushed deeper and sank into her chair, wearied by the call. "Clara- That's not why I call-Clara, please."

Anna was close to growling in frustration. She suddenly remembered why she and her father had so carefully avoided dealing with the French branch of the family.

"Clara- I- Clara!" Anna sighed deeply. "I'm not shagging weither of them!" She burst out. Immediately embarrassed she stood and left the room to finish the conversation outside.

Sam and Dean stared at the door in silence unitl Sam burst out laughing.

"Wow, Dean," he lauhed. "Should you feel insulted?"

"Shut up," Dean grumbled and returned to his reading.

"I mean," Sam continued. "I don't know if dreams count-"

His sentence was cut short by a pillow smacking him in the face. At the foot of the bed, Dean smiled and just kept on reading.

Dreams count.