A/N: Hello, again! We're coming to the end of Season 1 now, so in the interest of keeping the story somewhat in line with the series, I'm continuing with a loose interpretation of the eposide Shadow. I do not own some of the dialogue in this chapter, and of course, I don't own Dean or Sam either. On an unrelated note, I have to retract my earlier statement about "I Wear my Sunglasses at Night" being Cory Hart's only hit. I heard "Never Surrender" on my way to work the other day and rocked it:) As always you guys are the best. Enjoy!

Chapter 24

True to form, Dean woke them at 6 AM by blaring Blue Oyster Cult while getting dressed.

MJ rolled over squinting up at him. He grinned back at her, pulling a t-shirt over his head.

"Damn it, Dean!" She complained, covering her head with a pillow. She heard Sammy grunt and roll out of bed, heading into the bathroom without a word.

"We got a big day today. Get up!" He ordered.

MJ's brain slowly went to work remembering the events of the night before. Her eyes popped open as she pulled the pillow off her head and looked up at her brother again.

"So are you going to tell me about Jenna or what?" MJ asked.

"Or what," Dean said, smacking the side of her leg. "Get up."

MJ scowled at him, rolling out of bed. She stood there, glaring down at him as he laced his boots.

"It's not gonna work." He said, trying to ignore her staring.

She kept it up, crossing her arms, her eyes never wavering from his face.

When he went to work on the second boot, MJ decided she needed to up the annoying factor. "Deeeeean. Deeeeean. Pleeeeease!" She whined. Even she was appalled at how grating she sounded.

He sat up, blowing out a breath. "Fine."

MJ sat back down, clapping her hands, a grin on her face.

"No interrupting." Dean said, pointing at her.

"Deal."

"Meg stole Jenna's dog yesterday morning."

Dean barely got the sentence out of his mouth before MJ gasped audibly.

"What? That skanky bitch! Why Jenna? Does she know her? Ooh, I knew she was a no good piece of trash." MJ said, shaking her head.

Dean leveled a look at her. "You finished?"

"Oh, sorry," she held her hands up. "Not another word. Promise."

"We think Meg is a demon. Jenna snapped a photo with her cell phone. Meg's eyes are pitch black."

MJ's eyes grew large. "Like the freak on the plane." She said in a harsh whisper.

Dean couldn't help but grin. "You know it still counts as interrupting, even if you whisper."

"I'm sorry, but seriously? A demon? I knew she was an appalling waste of space, but a demon?"

Dean gave her an inquisitive look. "Don't get me wrong, I want to gank the bitch. But you hated her from the minute she walked up to our table. What's the deal?"

MJ's eyebrows rose up toward her hair line. "Really? She waltzes up to us and tries to school you about how you treat Sammy and you don't know why I can't stand the sight of her?"

"Yeah, but this is more than that. Plus, you're not mad at Sammy and he's the one who spilled all the family drama to some strange chick just 'cause he thought she was hot."

MJ shook her head rapidly from side to side. "No, that's just it. She wasn't just some chick. I could tell from the get go, she was out to get Sammy. At first I thought she just…wanted him, wanted him. Ya know. But now who knows what her motives are. No matter what she is: demon, witch, two bit whore,"

Dean frowned at her, but didn't scold her for her inventive language. MJ continued.

"She's a user. She's a predator, and Sammy is her prey." MJ said, and Dean was a little shocked to hear not only annoyance and anger in her voice, but something more. It sounded a lot like pure hatred.

"A predator? Really?" Dean said, unconvinced. "Sam made a choice, MJ. He spilled his guts, nobody twisted his arm."

MJ scoffed. "You're so black and white, Dean. It's not always that simple. Girls like Meg-"

"You mean demon girls?"

"No, I just mean some girls, human girls, know they can convince guys to confide in them, and they get them to air their dirty laundry for the sole purpose of throwing it back in their face later. They make guys think they're only asking because they care, but really they want to know all the dirt so they can use it against them later."

Dean looked unconvinced.

MJ took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly. "I'm just saying that some people are really good at finding people's weaknesses and using them to get what they want."

Dean considered his sister carefully. "How'd you get so…" Dean paused searching for the right word.

"Deep? Insightful? Ridiculously smart?" MJ offered.

Dean shook his head. He suddenly snapped his fingers, finding the right descriptor. "Jaded." He announced.

Dean's grin faltered when he saw the hurt look his sister was giving him. She got up off the bed, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Well excuse me for wanting to defend my brothers." She stomped to her bag, slung it over her shoulder and went to stand by the bathroom door, waiting for her turn in the shower.

Dean stood, slowly approaching her. "Hey, MJ-"

"Just forget it," She interrupted. "What's the plan for taking care of this bitch?" MJ asked, giving Dean a cold look.

Dean didn't want to let it go, but considering his sister's mood, he decided it would be best to just answer her question. "Well, we're going to stake out Meg's place, wait for her to leave. When she does, I'm going to tail her while you and Sammy talk to her neighbors and search her place. Maybe she'll leave the dog there and we can snatch it back. That would be one less thing to worry about."

MJ tried to keep her lips from turning up at the corners. It was so comical to hear Dean talk about someone's pet like he gave a crap. The scary thing was, he did give a crap. She had never seen her oldest brother like this. He was totally smitten by Jenna, and MJ found that she was actually okay with that.

"What?" Dean asked, noticing her changed expression.

MJ shook her head. "Nothing. So, why are you following Meg? Why not Sammy?"

"Because my deep, insightful, ridiculously smart sister pointed out the fact that this chick is preying on Sammy and I'm not gonna make it any easier for her. Sammy is staying away from her."

MJ gave him a dubious look. "And what about you?"

"Oh, MJ, you're too funny." He said shaking his head. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Remember this: Dean is always the predator, never the prey."

MJ just rolled her eyes. The bathroom door opened, Sammy emerging amidst a cloud of steam, and MJ walked in laughing to herself. Her brother really had no clue.

If I could go back in time my first order of business would be gutting the son of a bitch who invented pantyhose, MJ thought viciously. She tried like hell to listen to Meg's neighbor, Mr. Norman Heisler, and not fidget, but the damn nylons were itchy and there was a run starting at her right ankle. A college student interning with the FBI wouldn't fidget, she thought, they'd be used to wearing these God forsaken things.

Sam threw her a reproachful look before asking Mr. Heisler his next question.

"So how long ago did Ms. Masters move in?"

"Oh, she's only been here about 3 weeks, a month at the most. Tell you the truth I almost never see her. In fact, I thought she was on vacation or something. I hadn't seen her at all the past few days until I saw her this morning walking her dog. I didn't even know she had a dog. The thing never makes any noise."

"A white Yorkshire terrier?" Sam asked.

Mr. Heisler shrugged. "White, small, I guess it's a terrier. I'm not really a dog person." He set his coffee cup down, looking from one sibling to the other and back again. "Is this girl in some kind of trouble?"

"Well, that's what we're trying to figure out. We think she could be in danger, but we're hoping we're wrong. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary that might indicate something strange is going on? Anything at all that struck you as odd?"

Mr. Heisler gave this some thought before shaking his head. "She keeps odd hours, coming in late at night or not at all, but that's not so unusual for a young, pretty girl" He said with the air of a doting parent who couldn't help but be lenient with their misbehaving child. "Times are different now. I'm no fool." He said with a smile and wink at MJ. MJ just looked back, completely bemused. Weird old man, she thought, reaching down to hike up the left leg of the pantyhose yet again.

"She ever have any visitors?" Sam asked.

"Not that I noticed."

Sam opened his mouth to ask another question when his phone began ringing.

If I should stay,
I would only be in your way.

Sam's face reddened, and he leveled an angry look at MJ conveying that he was not at all amused.

MJ just barely kept a straight face as Sam dug around in his pockets trying to find the phone and silence it.

So I'll go, but I know
I'll think of you ev'ry step of the way.

Sam momentarily gave up his search, clearly mortified, but not willing to blow their cover by yelling at MJ in front of Mr. Heisler.

And I will always love you.
I will always love you.

"Aren't you going to answer that Agent Young?" MJ asked innocently.

Sam finally located the phone in his breast pocket and quickly silenced it.

"Sorry about that." He said to Mr. Heisler, his face the color of a very ripe tomato.

Mr. Heisler leaned forward across the table toward Sam. "Don't be embarrassed, son, Whitney is a legend. Honestly, who doesn't love that song? The only thing better is the movie."

"I swear I'm going to kick your ass!" Sam whispered harshly, as they left Mr. Heisler's apartment.

"You'll think twice before you dis Whitney again." MJ shot back, unable to keep the triumphant smile off her face.

"And what was with all the fidgeting? Can't you sit still?"

"Hey, you wear the pantyhose and skirt next time and see how still you can be."

Neither of them spoke again as they broke into Meg's apartment. Their search yielded nothing. There was almost no furniture, very little clothing and no food at all. It was as if she was only pretending to live here. There was no sign of the dog, which MJ found odd since they hadn't seen Meg take it with her when she left this morning.

"Nothing here." Sam said tersely, leading the way to the door and holding it open for MJ.

"Come on, Sammy. Don't be such a poor sport. You gotta admit it was pretty funny. I mean, I couldn't have planned the timing to be any better." She said, clearly pleased with herself.

"Keep it up." Sam mumbled, as he relocked Meg's door.

The Impala came to a stop at the curb just as Sam and MJ made their way down the front steps of the building. Dean jumped out, coming around the front of the car and onto the sidewalk.

"Perfect timing." Sam said. Then he took in Dean's anxious, overly excited expression. "What is it?"

"Sammy," He said, in a slightly higher than normal voice, a wild look in his eyes. "I think this has something to do with the thing that killed Mom."

They rode in complete silence back to the motel, each lost in their own thoughts. Dean had filled them in on what he had witnessed at the warehouse, about Meg speaking to someone or something through an ancient looking goblet. He told them how she had told whoever was on the other end that he shouldn't come after all because the Winchesters were in town and knew about what he had done to their mother. Beyond that all they could do was speculate as to who this thing was and how Meg was connected to it. They each sat silently, absorbed in their own thoughts as Dean sped toward the motel.

Once assembled inside the room, Dean locked and salted the door, and proceeded to lay salt lines at all of the windows. Not until Dean had pulled the curtains tight did Sammy ask his first question.

"So she was planning to bring the…demon or whatever here? But for what?"

Dean turned toward his brother and shrugged. "I don't know, but the point is he's coming here." Dean walked slowly toward Sam. MJ sat on the edge of the bed, silently watching her brothers. She studied Dean's face as he approached Sammy, not liking what she saw at all. There was a glint in Dean's eye that hadn't been there before. It was almost maniacal. MJ shivered involuntarily when she realized that Scotty had the same look in his eyes that night in the cabin…

Sam looked unconvinced. "What if we're wrong, Dean?"

Dean shook his head emphatically. "I know what I heard Sammy. She was talking to it…him. She mentioned you. Shit she even mentioned that night with Mom and-" Dean stopped abruptly, looking uncertainly at Sam.

"And what, Dean?"

"She said," Dean took another step, closing the short distance between himself and Sammy. "She said 'they know it was you that killed the girlfriend. They've made that connection'." Dean offered Sam an apologetic look. Sammy turned away from both his siblings, crossing his arms over his chest and pacing with his eyes cast toward the floor. To MJ's horror she saw that same glint shining in Sammy's eyes. Dean moved to deliberately step in front of Sam, halting his pacing. Dean waited until Sam looked up at him. "We can get this thing, Sammy. End this now. Tonight." Dean's voice was quiet, but full of determination.

"You think it could really be the demon that killed her?" Sam said, clearly wanting to believe that this was real, finally. That they had a feasible lead to follow instead of chasing shadows.

Dean shrugged. "I don't know for sure, Sammy, but it's the best lead we've got. I say we trash that black altar at the warehouse, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation."

Sam shook his head. "No, we can't. We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showin' up to meet her."

Dean considered this for a moment. He knew Sam was probably right. "I'll tell you one thing. I don't think we should do this alone."

Dean paced outside the motel room, phone in hand. He didn't know why he was having so much trouble making this call. He had called his father no less than a dozen times since picking up MJ in Chicago. He had left voicemail after voicemail, never hearing anything back. But this was different somehow. Even if he got voicemail, it would still be hard to say what he knew he needed to. Dean swallowed and dialed the phone, halting his pacing a few yards from the motel room door. The phone rang twice before going to voicemail. Dean cleared his throat. "Dad, it's me." He took a deep breath before continuing. "We think we've got a serious lead on the thing that killed Mom. So, uh, this warehouse—it's 1435 West Erie. Dad, if you get this, get to Chicago as soon as you can." Dean snapped the phone shut as Sam returned from the Impala, the bags slung over his shoulders near bursting.

"Voicemail?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Dean answered, canting his head toward the bags. "What the hell is all that?" He asked.

Sam shrugged. "I took everything. Holy water, every weapon I could think of, exorcism rituals form about a half dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect so I guess we should just expect everything."

"That's a comforting thought." Dean muttered as he followed Sam back inside the motel room.

An hour later, MJ sat on the bed, a magazine in her lap, aimlessly flipping through the pages while she watched her brothers clean their guns. She didn't like where this was going one bit. She had of course seen her brothers preparing for a hunt before. That was nothing new to her. But this was something different entirely. This was personal. This time, the focus and determination on both their faces scared the hell out of her. She knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that her brothers would stop at nothing to get this thing, to finish this once and for all. No matter the cost.

MJ had kept her mouth shut since Dean picked her and Sammy up at Meg's apartment. For the first time since joining her brothers on the road MJ felt awkward and out of place. Like she was intruding. Mary wasn't her mother. This wasn't her pain or her revenge to have. She wanted to tell them not to go. She wanted to beg them to stay here with her where they would be safe. But she knew those words would be wasted breath. There was nothing she could say to stop her brothers from taking this chance to avenge their mother's death. Even if it was at the expense of their own lives.