The District A-1 police station in Boston's North End looked like any other police station Sam and Dean had ever been in, but the accents of the locals threw them for a loop. Sam had to ask the young woman at the desk to repeat herself twice before he understood that "wayt heah far a sec an I'll go an get im" meant that he and Dean should wait while she went to get Officer Bishop.

"What the hell? Is this a whole different language they speak up here, or what?" Sam asks, taking in the strange voices around him that he can barely understand.

"It's not like we've never been to New England, Sam. And besides, aren't you supposed to be the smart one?" Dean asks, shoving Sam with his shoulder.

"I'm still smarter than you. Let's just hope this Officer Bishop doesn't talk like that woman, or we're gonna have a problem," Sam says, craning his neck to see where the woman went.

After what seems like an eternity, the woman returns with Officer Bishop, who smiles warmly at the two "agents" and ushers them into a conference room down the hall.

"Please, have a seat. Can I get you anything? Coffee, soda, water?" Bishop says, indicating two chairs across the table as he takes a seat.

"No, thank you," Sam says, pulling out a small notebook from his jacket pocket. "We won't take up too much of your time, officer. We just wanted to speak with you about the murder victims you recently found in alleys around the North End."

"Yes, terrible business. We still haven't found the killer. What was it you wanted to know? I've included everything in my report," Bishop says, taking in the two men before him. He can tell by the taller one's long hair that he is definitely not a federal agent, and as for the other one, he seems to pass for an agent much more easily with his quiet and serious demeanor. If these guys aren't federal agents, then who the hell are they? Bishop wonders.

"Well, we were just wondering if you could tell us any more details about the victims' wounds. The most recent victim was cremated a few days ago, so we haven't been able to examine any of the bodies, and the pictures don't give us enough information for our investigation," Sam lies easily, remembering the obituary of the last victim he read on the way over detailing his funeral and subsequent cremation.

"And what exactly are you investigating? If there's something big going on in my district, I'd sure like to know about it," Bishop says smoothly, gauging the reactions of the two "agents."

Sam pauses for a moment, and Dean jumps in, "We're not at liberty to say at this time, but we'd appreciate your full cooperation, officer."

Bishop leans back and sighs as if trying to recall information, although he already knows how the victims were killed and what killed them. "Well, I seem to remember that all the victims had similar wounds to the neck area, and analysis of the wounds revealed that they were bite marks from some sort of animal," Bishop says, lacing his lie with a bit of truth to make it easier to swallow. "Our best theory is that it was a dog, and given that the bodies were all found within a two mile radius, we think that it's either a stray that frequents the area, or a pet that someone has recently set free," Bishop says, smiling to himself at the veiled jab at Aidan's canine roommate. "Does that help you at all?" Bishop asks innocently.

Sam and Dean exchange a look, both aware that Bishop is lying to them. Though not quite sure why, the hunters silently agree to end the interview so they can confer on this new information.

"Yes, thank you Officer Bishop. We appreciate you taking the time to speak with us," Sam says, rising and putting his notebook away. Bishop rises as well, reaching out to shake Sam's hand over the table. He grips Sam's hand in a cold, tight grasp and stares intently in Sam's eyes.

"Let's just forget this interview ever happened, hm?" Bishop says smoothly, using his charm to try to make Sam literally forget that they ever met. Releasing Sam's hand when he's sure that his charm has had the desired effect, Bishop grips Dean's hand and makes the suggestion to forget with the same intensity, his eyes boring into Dean's.

"Um, sure, thanks for your help," Dean says awkwardly to Bishop, turning to look back at Sam in confusion as they head back down the hall.

"I have no idea what, but that guy is definitely hiding something, and trying to get us to help him cover it up. Whatever "it" is," Sam says, glancing back to see Bishop smiling coolly at them from the doorway.

When the two hunters round the corner, Bishop strides angrily down the hall to his office, frustrated that his charm didn't seem to work on the two men. He resolves to keep an eye out for the pair, but decides that the preparations for the visit by the Dutch is more important than two chumps in suits sniffing around aimlessly.

"Hey, does your chest hurt?" Dean asks, rubbing the left side of his chest as he and Sam approach the Impala in the parking lot. He loosens his tie and untucks his shirt, lifting it up to reveal the source of the pain.

"Oh my God, dude. Your tattoo is all red and raw. What the hell happened?" Sam asks as he notices a similar burning sensation on his chest. He lifts his shirt as well and Dean confirms that Sam's tattoo in a similar state.

"What the hell could have done this?" Dean asks, indicating their chests. His face brightens and suddenly he hits himself in the forehead, looking at Sam as if he's missing the obvious. "I think I know what that Bishop character was hiding," Dean says, hopping into the car and firing up the engine.

"What are you talking about, Dean?" Sam asks, climbing in and closing the door.

"I think he's a vampire, and our anti-possession tattoos kept him from using his vampire mojo to charm us into bending to his will," Dean says smugly, impressed by his own cleverness.

"And here I thought I was the smart one," Sam says with a chuckle, leaning back and rubbing his chest.