A/N: Hello again! This may seem like filler, but trust me, it's going somewhere:) Thanks for reading. You guys are awesome!

Chapter 23

MJ was lying on her stomach on the lumpy motel bed, a pillow under her chin, her eyes glued to the television screen. Dean was cleaning the already compulsively clean weapons at the tiny table near the door. She didn't see the eye rolls or head shakes that resulted from every sappy scene in the movie, but she heard the snickering and the occasional "oh please" he muttered under his breath. She chose to ignore him. Nothing she said would change his opinion of the movie, and besides, she was way too into it to even be bothered by it. As far as she was concerned, The Bodyguard was a timeless classic that deserved her undivided attention.

Sam emerged from the bathroom, towel drying his damp hair. He paused, standing next to the bed for a few moments, watching as Frank and Rachel said their goodbyes before she boarded the small private plane. MJ discretely wiped a tear from her eye. Sam scoffed, tossing the towel to the floor. "Seriously with this movie?" He asked as he plopped himself down beside her, causing MJ to bounce several inches off the bed. She spared him a quick death glare before returning her attention to the movie. "It's so bad."

"It's a freaking classic, now shut it." MJ said as the music swelled, and Rachel ran off the plane and into Frank's arms. MJ allowed herself to enjoy the long passionate kiss they shared before she grabbed the remote, quickly turning the TV off. "I'm starving." She said standing up and stretching. "Let's go eat."

"I'm in." Dean said, standing up from the table.

"Wait a minute," Sam gestured toward the television with a bewildered laugh. "It wasn't over. I thought you were all into it."

MJ shrugged. "I like to pretend that's where it ends. They should have stayed together. I don't want to see her turn back around and get on the plane, never to see him again. It sucks. My ending is better."

Sam shook his head, getting up and pulling on his jacket. "Whatever. The movie sucks royally either way. And that song."

They followed Dean out to the Impala. "Don't even start on the song. The entire soundtrack is genius."

Sam let out another laugh. "You weren't even born when the movie came out."

MJ climbed into the back seat. "Okay, first of all I was born. I was a year old when the movie came out. Second, true classics are appreciated long after their time. That's like saying Dean can't like CCR because they broke up before he was born."

"Hey, hey, leave me and John Foggerty out of this." Dean grinned as he pulled out of the motel parking lot. The truth was MJ and Sam's bickering was like music to his ears. He was worried MJ would take the whole Biz incident badly, especially after her breakdown on the side of the road. But here she was, twenty four hours later, arguing with Sam and acting like her old, pain in the ass self. Damn the kid is resilient, he thought. They had moved to a motel in Oak Park today so they were closer to downtown. Sammy had spent the day tailing Meg while Dean and MJ dug up information on her past. Neither of them found anything suspicious. Meg Masters did exist, and the back story she had given Sam seemed to be legit. What was more, Sam didn't catch her doing anything suspicious while stalking her for twelve hours.

MJ had moved on to making fun of Sam's taste in television shows as they pulled into the restaurant. "I swear," she said with a giggle, "You get more turned on by Shark Week than you do a real live woman."

"You know, I think you've been spending too much time with Dean." Sam observed, shaking his head as they piled out of the car.

"You say that like it's a bad thing." Dean countered as they made their way inside. As soon as they were all assembled at a table, Sam was all business. "I think I need to dig deeper into her history. I'm telling you something is not right here. I can feel it in my gut. Meg is not on the up and up."

"Okay," Dean said scanning his menu. "We'll give it another day, but then that's it. We shouldn't linger too long here." He gave Sam a loaded look which Sam understood perfectly without further clarification. They'd already had one run in with a "friend" of Wendy's, they didn't need to tempt fate by hanging around much longer. Sam gave a quick nod of his head, conveying his understanding. MJ missed this exchange, as she rapidly typed a text message into her phone.

Dean turned to his sister. "Who you talkin' to?" He asked.

She quickly stashed the phone away in her hoodie pocket. "Um, Spencer."

"Spencer?" Dean asked loudly. "You've been talking to Spencer?"

MJ nodded. "Not much. He sent me a message apologizing for everything and thanking us for our help. He's getting out of the hospital today. He's gonna be okay." MJ looked up at Dean, giving him a challenging look, just waiting for him to open his mouth and forbid her from talking to Spencer.

"That's great news." Sam said as Dean opened his mouth. Sam leveled a look at his brother.

Dean let out a long breath. "Yeah, that's great." He muttered, focusing back on his menu.

The waitress appeared then, her timing perfect, Sam thought, since neither his sister nor his brother looked like they planned to hold their tongues for long. Dean's cell rang shortly after the waitress walked away with their order. He checked the display before standing. "Be right back." He said, making his way outside.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dean, it's Jenna. Jenna Cullen." She said in a clipped tone. Dean thought she sounded funny. Out of breath and almost bewildered.

"Hi Jenna. How's it going?" He asked as he began pacing the sidewalk in front of the diner.

"Uh, not so good actually." She sounded frightened, but seemed hesitant to go on.

"What is it?" Dean asked, his heart hammering. This was it, he thought. Something had gone wrong and they were going to try and take MJ. Dean looked toward the diner, already making plans for a quick escape from Chicago.

"Well, it's-it's probably not even anything you can help with, I just-I don't know who else to call. I mean, the cops won't be able to do anything, but I can't sit around and do nothing."

Dean stopped pacing, now thoroughly confused. "Jenna, what is going on?"

She let out a sigh. "Somebody kidnapped Kinzie." She said, her voice breaking.

"Kidnapped?" Dean shook his head. "Who is Kinzie?"

"My dog." She said, clearly crying freely now.

"Someone kidnapped your dog?" Dean asked, trying and failing to keep the relief from his voice.

"Yes, and I think it was probably my ex-boyfriend, Jarred, but no way can I prove it and I don't even care about anyone getting in trouble in fact I don't care if I ever find out who did it as long as I get her back safe." She paused just long enough to take a quick breath. "And I know I shouldn't even be calling you, it's really not appropriate, but I thought you could refer me to a PI who knows how to handle these types of situations or if that's not really the kind of thing PI's do then maybe you know what I should do because I don't have a clue and I feel like I need to act fast and-" She seemed to have finally run out of steam. She took a few deep breaths. "I just want my baby back."

"Okay, just relax." Dean was surprised to find that his relief that this had nothing to do with MJ had vanished and been replaced by concern for Jenna and a desire - no a need - to fix this for her. "As it turns out, I'm still in the neighborhood. Give me your address and I'll be right over."

She hesitated just long enough for Dean to take notice, before rattling off her address.

"Okay, just hang tight. I'm on my way."

"Thanks, Dean. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. I'm sure you have much more important cases to be tending to." She said sincerely.

"Hey, no worries. Actually, stolen pets are my area of expertise. Really, it's pretty much all I take on."

She let out a small laugh. "I highly doubt that, but thanks for trying."

Dean returned inside and to their booth, pulling a few bills from his wallet. "Get mine to go and take a cab back to the motel." He said handing the cash to Sam.

"Where are you going?' Sam asked, taking the money.

"Duty calls." He said as he started to walk away.

"Wait, Dean-who was on the phone?" Sam called after him.

Dean just waved over his shoulder in response.

Sam looked at MJ who just shrugged. Sam pulled out his cell phone dialing Dean's number.

"What?" Dean answered.

"Where are you going, man?"

Dean sighed. "Jenna called. She needs help with something." He paused, starting the car. "Look, it's no big deal. I'll be back to the motel in a couple hours." Dean hung up before Sam could ask any more questions.

Dean retuned to the motel close to three hours later. Sam and MJ looked up expectantly as he closed the door behind him. He looked back at both of them. "Hey." He said, pulling off his jacket.

"Hey?" MJ repeated, pausing with the nail polish brush hovering over one of her toes. "That's it? Come on, give us the goods. What happened with Jenna?"

Dean sat beside her on the bed. "Actually, you're not gonna believe this, but I think maybe Meg has something to do with Jenna's missing dog."

MJ sat frozen for a moment before snapping out of it, and replacing the brush in the nail polish bottle. "Seriously?" She asked, scooting closer to Dean. "Why do you think so?" She asked. "And you went over there because her dog is missing?"

Dean didn't hear her questions. His eyes were fixed on her right wrist, a look of anger on his face. MJ took in his expression, confused, until she realized what he was looking at.

Oh, shit, she thought, folding her arms across her chest, and tucking her right wrist under her left arm. She knew it was too little too late.

Dean pulled her arm back toward him. "What the hell is this?" he asked her, closely examining the blue and purple finger shaped bruises on her wrist. Sam turned from his laptop, looking over Dean's shoulder. When he saw the marks, he walked over, sitting at Dean's side awaiting MJ's response.

MJ looked back at Dean, biting her lip. She didn't know what to say. She had noticed the bruises forming this morning, where Biz had grabbed and squeezed her wrist the night before. She saw no benefit to telling Dean about their exchange at the pool table, but now that he had seen the bruises, no matter what she told him he'd be pissed that she had kept it from him.

Dean held her right hand in his, turning it over and over, assessing the damage. He eventually looked up at her, still looking pissed. "I'm waiting for an answer, MJ."

MJ took a deep breath, blowing it back out. "It happened last night at the bar while I was playing pool."

Dean looked confused. "You mean that old guy you were hustling? He did this?"

MJ shook her head. "No, it was Biz." MJ began, now resigned to the fact she would have to divulge everything that happened at the bar to her brothers. "He came up behind me while I was taking some practice shots, and grabbed my arm. He asked where Wendy was." She pulled her hand free of Dean's hold and folded her arms. "That's it."

Dean and Sam just looked at her for a moment before Dean spoke again. "He threatened you." It wasn't a question.

"Well…" MJ said.

A muscle in Dean's jaw was twitching, his face reddening. He took a deep breath, getting up off the bed and pacing the room. "You didn't feel the need to tell me about this? I mean, are we gonna play this game again, 'cause shit MJ it didn't end so well last time!"

"Dean." Sam said quietly.

Dean looked at Sam, intending to let him have it as well for even considering taking MJ's side in this, but the look on Sam's face stopped him. His eyes weren't saying, hey, give her a break, go easy on her. They said, yeah, I'm frustrated, too, but shouting at her won't help anything. Dean sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair and took a moment to cool off.

"Okay," He said finally, turning to his sister, "MJ you should hit the hay. We've all got a lot to do tomorrow."

MJ looked torn between relief that she wasn't going to get reamed out and disappointment at not getting her questions answered. Apparently the curiosity won out because she decided to press her luck. "What? I want to hear about Jenna and the missing dog." she whined.

"I'll fill everybody in tomorrow at breakfast. Now come on, lights out." Dean insisted.

MJ trudged into the bathroom frowning and brushed her teeth. She came back out and begrudgingly got into bed.

Sam returned to his laptop, Dean sitting across from him, his eyes on the muted baseball game on the television. Sam knew Dean wasn't really paying any attention to it, but was waiting it out until he was sure MJ was asleep. After thirty minutes, Dean got Sam's attention, canting his head toward the motel room door. Sam quietly closed the laptop and followed Dean outside.

Dean slowly closed the door behind them. They didn't stray far from the room, standing in the hallway mere feet from the door.

"Check this out." Dean said pulling out his cell phone. He flipped it open and hit a few keys before handing it to Sam. Sam took it, taking in the blurry photo of a figure in a sweatshirt, hood pulled up over their head, with a small white dog under one arm. Closer inspection revealed that the figure seemed to be female and a wisp of hair sticking out from under the hood told Sam she was a blonde. Sam took all of this in in a matter of seconds. What really caught his attention, and prevented him from examining the photo any further, was the girl's eyes.

"Dean, what is this?" he asked, barely more than a whisper.

"That's a photo Jenna snapped of the dog thief. She forwarded it to my phone. She look familiar?" Dean asked.

"Could be Meg." Sam answered, still transfixed by the eyes in the photo. "Dean, her eyes. They're-"

"Pitch black? Yeah, I caught that, too. Looks like your little friend ain't human."

"Demon," was all Sam could manage to utter.

Dean nodded. "Just like that freaky bastard we took care of on the plane." Dean said, thinking with distaste of his not to pleasant flying experience.

Sam handed the phone back to Dean. "What the hell does Jenna have to do with this?"

"I don't think she has anything to do with it. I think this is all just a big, elaborate plan meant to draw us in. This…thing wants us to come after it. We gotta take care of this bitch and fast."

"What do you think it wants with us?" Sam asked, now pacing the hallway.

"I don't know, but we have the advantage now. We're onto its game. Tomorrow we follow Meg or whoever the hell this thing is and we exorcise it."

Sam looked hesitant. "Don't you think that would be like walking right into a trap?"

"You have another suggestion?" Dean asked.

Sam's silence said it all.

"We take care of this tomorrow. First thing." Dean declared, his hand on the door knob.

"Wait." Sam said, approaching his brother. "You really gonna let this Biz thing go? I thought you were going to explode earlier."

Dean gave his brother a long look before responding. "Oh no, I'm gonna take care of that son of a bitch. He's not getting away with messing with MJ. But we need to finish this first."

"What are you going to do?" Sam asked anxiously.

Dean just smirked at his younger brother before pushing the door open and heading inside.