A/N: Muse was on fire this weekend, so we have another chapter on this one. Hope you enjoy meeting Avery here! Please let me know what you think of Avery and the way this story is going so far! Reviews are love! :)

Special thanks to TLOGirl for her most excellent beta work on this one! She's great with character development and had some really wonderful suggestions for this one!

Disclaimer: Don't own anything you recognize from Supernatural.

Chapter 2: Meet Me in Hotlanta

"Jesus, Sam, did you have to drag us to Atlanta during the hottest month on record?"

Sam ignores his brother's whining and continues walking down the busy Piedmont Park sidewalk. The Piedmont Park section of the Midtown neighborhood is a mecca for the arts scene in Atlanta. He scans the various signs on the storefronts, hoping to catch a glimpse of the amulet Sophia had described and he had read about in Bobby's extensive library.

"The kind of bad guys we chase like the heat, Dean," Sophia teases, nudging him with her hip as she tries to keep up with Sam's long-legged stride.

Dean snorts. "They certainly picked the right location this time, then. I think this is actually hotter than Hell."

Sophia cuts a sharp glance at him, and he gives her a grim smile and a shrug. Neither realizes Sam has stopped until they stumble into him.

"Damn it, Sam," Dean hisses, his arm snaking around Sophia to keep her upright. "Signal next time, would ya?"

Sam just stands there, wide-eyed, staring into the window of a photography gallery. He doesn't speak, just waves his hand. Dean and Sophia turn their attention to the display and Sophia gasps.

Right in the center of the window is a close-up shot of a necklace around a woman's neck. The large green stone is nestled just above the curve of her cleavage and is surrounded by an intricate silver setting. Honey blonde hair curls down on either side of the necklace, setting off the color and beauty of the stone.

Turning, Sam meets Sophia's wide, dark eyes. "That's it, isn't it? The stone you see in your dreams?"

She nods, wordless, one hand covering her mouth, the other clutching at Dean's arm.

~~~SPN~~~

"I don't understand," Sophia whispers, staring up at a larger image of the picture in the window. They'd moved immediately inside the store once they'd recognized the amulet only to find a whole exhibit of shots of it. "How on earth could I be dreaming about this?"

Sam shrugs helplessly. "No idea. But we need another picture of her. We need to know who she is."

"She is me."

All three Hunters turn at the sound of the voice behind them. A beautiful blonde stands feet away, arms crossed, expression torn between welcome and suspicion. She stands about 5'6", long honey blonde hair pulled back from her face in a messy knot. She's casually, but elegantly dressed in well fitting designer jeans, an emerald green silk shirt and lightweight pale cotton blazer. Her bright green eyes flash as she takes them in.

"Oh, God," Sophia whispers, leaning heavily against Dean. "That's her." She looks up at Sam, fear and confusion written on her pale face. "That's her!"

The blonde woman stares at them, suspicion now winning over welcome. "What are you talking about?" she demands imperiously. "Who are you people?"

Sophia swallows hard, then moves for the door. Gesturing at Dean to stay, she murmurs, "I just need some air. Talk to her."

Casting a worried look after Sophia, Dean reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an FBI badge. "I'm Special Agent Mannheim, FBI," he says, flashing the credentials quickly before stuffing them back in his pocket. "And this is my partner, Special Agent White."

When Sam doesn't immediately respond to his cue, Dean glances over at him. Sam, however, is simply gaping at the woman in front of them, jaw slack, eyes wide. Dean rolls his eyes and nudges Sam sharply in the ribs. "Special Agent White?" he growls.

"What? Oh, right, yeah, ummm, Special Agent White, that's me," Sam stutters, fumbling for his credentials as he tries to drag his gaze from the now slightly amused face of their target.

As his brother appears to be of no help, Dean takes over the questioning. "So, you're the woman in the photos," he asks, gesturing at the display behind him. At her wary nod, he continues, "And you are?"

She steps forward, holding out a hand. "Avery Thomas. The woman in those photos, the photographer and the owner of this gallery." A light Southern accent colors her words as she relaxes slightly. She shakes hands brusquely with both men, then says, "What makes you so interested in these pictures, Agents? I assure you, there's nothing illegal about them."

"You took the pictures as well as appearing in them?" Sam says, finally finding his voice.

Avery smiles with professional pride and moves closer to the display, running her fingers along the edge of one of the shots. "Yes, with a remote trigger." She gestures at the rest of the room. "I took all of these."

"They're beautiful," Sam murmurs, a touch of awe in his voice, his gaze stuck on her face again.

Avery blushes lightly, appearing a little embarrassed by Sam's attention, as Dean tries to swallow a snort at his brother's behavior. "Um, thank you, Agent." She clears her throat and turns to Dean. "So again I'll ask, what is it you're investigating that involves my photos? Does this have something do with the attacks I read about in the papers recently?"

Dean raises an eyebrow, impressed by her quick deduction. "Potentially, yes," he says, slowly, consideringly. "We believe the necklace you're wearing might be a stolen artifact. Part of a collection thousands of years old. The attacks may be related to an attempt to get it back." He pauses and pulls out a small notebook and pen. "Do you happen to know where the amulet is now?"

Avery nods, her face creased in a frown. "Of course I do. It's at my home. It belongs to me."

"It belongs to you? And how did you come into possession of the piece?" Sam asks.

"It was a gift from a very old friend. I'm not sure where he got it, but he gave it to me several years ago."

"This friend," Dean says, waving his pen, "what's his name? Can we talk to him?"

Sadness flashes across Avery's face, darkening her eyes to a deep jade. "His name was Jackson White. But no, I'm afraid you can't talk to him," she murmurs, "he died last month."

The brother's exchange a telling glance. Sophia's dreams had started around the same time.

Avery shifts restlessly, clearly disturbed by the conversation. "That woman, the one who was with you. She said something like "that's her" when she saw me. What did she mean? Is she from the FBI, too?"

"Um, no, she's a..." Dean stutters.

"She's a witness in another matter," Sam says, jumping in smoothly. "She must have seen your pictures somewhere before."

Frowning, Avery stares at the window toward Sophia, who's pacing the sidewalk outside the gallery. "Well," she says thoughtfully, "we have done a great deal of publicity for the show, maybe she saw something in the papers."

"Tell us about the show," Dean says, trying to draw Avery's attention away from Sophia.

"Oh, well, it's happening tomorrow evening. We're raising money for a local Atlanta woman's shelter. We used the necklace as a centerpiece and we'll be auctioning off the photos for the charity."

Sam and Dean trade glances again. "We'll need to attend the show, ma'am," Sam says. "In case the suspects we're looking for are there. They may make another try for the necklace."

Avery nods. "Oh, yes, of course. I'll make sure my assistant puts you on the list." She clasps her hands in front of her, her expression serious. "What else can I do to assist? We do have security in place for the event, but if there's anything further we need to setup in advance, I'd be happy to make whatever arrangements you think necessary."

Sam smiles at her, that puppy grin of his that makes everyone trust him immediately. "We'll contact you with our suggestions around security, Miss Thomas." he says softly, holding out a business card.

"I'll await your call then, Agent." She takes the card from him, her expression amused again. "And please, call me Avery."

Sam smiles back, dimples flashing. "Thank you...Avery," he murmurs, as Dean pulls him to the door.

"Keep it in your pants, Sammy," Dean hisses as he shoves his brother outside. "We got a case to solve." He glances back at Avery Thomas, who's watching them with a cautious expression. "And she's way out of your league."

~~~SPN~~~

Back at the motel, Sam starts research on Jackson White. "It can't be a coincidence that both Sophia's dreams and the attacks here in Atlanta started when he died," Sam mutters as he works at his laptop.

Sophia sits across from him, notebook in front of her, trying to remember every detail she can from her dreams. "Damn it," she grumbles, tossing down her pen and leaning back in the chair. "I wish I could remember something more. There's got to be something in there that'll help."

Dean moves behind her, massaging her shoulders. "Easy, babe. It's not like it's a movie you can just hit rewind. It was a dream."

"Yeah, a dream that apparently has some roots in reality," she snaps, shrugging off his hands and picking up the pen again. "What if she gets killed because I can't remember something from dreams I've been having for weeks? I should be able to remember more."

"Sophia, whatever happens, it's not your fault," Sam says softly. "You're doing the best you can."

"What if my best isn't good enough?" Sophia grates, shoving the chair back, nearly knocking Dean down. She pushes the notebook off the table, and heads for the door. "I'm going for a walk," she says, slamming the door behind her.

Dean starts to follow, but Sam grabs his arm. "No, let her go. She needs to work through this on her own."

Dean glares at his brother, then, with a frown, rights Sophia's recently vacated chair and flops into it, running his hands over his face. "Fine. What are you finding on this Jackson White character then? We gotta have something before we show up at that shindig tomorrow night."

"Not much really. Looks like he was a world traveler and collector. An Indiana Jones type dude. Retired some years ago and mostly hid away at his estate outside Atlanta."

"Anything connecting him and Avery? She said they were friends."

Sam clicks a few more times. "No... Wait." He whistles softly. "Says here she accompanied him on one of his last travels. Something to the Middle East. They got caught up in some local skirmishes, but managed to get away. Her pictures of the conflict got international attention."

He turns the screen to Dean, clicking through the pictures. "The Middle East, huh? Isn't that where your book said the amulet came from?" Dean asks as he browses the shots.

Sam nods. "Exactly. Another coincidence?"

"Not likely," Dean says with a snort. "Did Bobby get any more info on the origins of the thing?"

"Not yet. Just that it first appeared in Babylon. Not clear what it does or who might have made it."

"Well, hell," Dean says with a heavy sigh. "Guess we're goin' into tomorrow night blind as always."

"So what else is new?" Sam replies with a snicker. "Unless Sophia comes up with something else from her dreams."

No sooner are the words out of his mouth when the door bursts open and Sophia stumbles through the door.

"I know what's after that necklace," she says breathlessly. "I know what's after Avery."