The front door of the apartment opens up, the resident who opened it stays back, his face half hidden from his visitors.

"Can I help you?" the quiet voice questions from behind the shield of the door.

"Mr. Jonathan Cauldwell?" Sam questions, peering into the darkened house and trying to get a good look at the man he's come to talk to.

"Yes?"

"Uh, I'm Agent Howe, this is Agent Rodgers," Sam greets as he and Lizzy both hold out their badges. "We'd really like to talk to you."

"Uh," the man hesitates as he thinks it over. "I'm not sure…"

"Mr. Cauldwell," Lizzy calmly and sweetly tries her hand. "We are already aware of what's happened to you. We need to talk to you about everything so that we can help."

"I doubt you can help," his downtrodden voice informs them.

"Only one way to find out," Sam rebuts.

The man pauses for a moment to consider it. He sighs loudly. "I just… the way I look right now…"

"We're not here to judge or laugh," Lizzy promises. "And we've seen so much in our line of work already you really can't shock us. Please, just talk to us for a few minutes and we'll be out of your way."

"Ok," Jonathan says to them, taking Lizzy's word. "Come in."

He opens the door and immediately turns around to head down the hallway, Sam and Lizzy following him into the living room of his small apartment.

"Have a seat," he says to the floor while gesturing to the couch. He sits in an upholstered chair across from the hunters and avoids making eye contact with them. The shame is clear as day on his face as well as the permanent make up. Sam and Lizzy can both clearly see why this man is so embarrassed. His cheeks are rosy, his eyes lined with black liner and eye lashes thick and full, and his lips are a deep red color.

"So tell us what happened exactly," Sam says instantly, already feeling pity for the man. Jonathan is so uncomfortable with others looking at him that he feels their visit should be short to lessen the painful moment.

"I went to bed last week and when I woke up I looked like this. Simple as that."

"And there's no evidence of any kind of break in?" Sam asks.

"No," Jonathan answers. "Everything was perfect when I woke up."

"Did you have any weird dreams the night before?" Lizzy pries further.

"Well, no," he admits. "Honestly I didn't have any dreams at all."

"Why not?" she asks.

"Well, that's the thing about drinking too much. When you blackout it's a pretty dreamless state."

"Ain't that the truth," Lizzy smirks, understanding completely. Blacking out was not something she was unfamiliar with, even if these days she didn't usually reach that point. It takes way too many drinks to get there now a days.

"So you went out the night before?" Sam keeps on track.

"Yes," Jonathan tells them. "Went to the dive on Main, The Truck Stop."

This information makes both hunters sit a little taller. That's the same bar they went to the night before Dean woke up with his very own changes. After they exchange quick knowing glances, Sam pushed Jonathan for more information. "Anything unusual happen while you were there."

"Not really… well," Jonathan starts to recall. "I did get into a kind of… disagreement with someone there."

"Who?" Lizzy asks instantly.

"Oh, I don't know her name."

"Her?" Sam quickly wonders.

"Yeah, her. She was all alone at the bar and she was cute, damn cute really."

"What did she look like," Lizzy questions, the rock in her stomach becoming a boulder. This story sounds pretty familiar to her all of a sudden.

"Ah, short. About five-three maybe. Reddish, blonde hair. She was wearing all black which I thought was weird but whatever. She was pretty so I offered to buy her a drink."

"Why did she fight with you then?" Sam keeps him talking.

"She refused my drink and then called me a pig," Jonathan says, still clearly dumbfounded with the conversation. "She was pissed at me for trying to be nice. I mean, granted I was trying to hit on her a little, but that's why people go to bars, isn't it?"

"So you would say she got irrationally angry for you trying to talk her up a bit?" Lizzy knows exactly how this whole thing went down already. She saw it just the other night first hand.

"Yeah, I would."

"What happened after the argument?" Sam presses.

"Uh, she left in a huff," he answers. "Said something weird about how much I would hate being in her shoes. She then smacked me on the ass out of nowhere and left the bar."

"Did you by chance lose anything that night?" Lizzy wonders, remembering that Dean lost a quarter and it showed up in the hex bag in the Impala.

"Nothing important that I've noticed," Jonathan shrugs.

"Mr. Cauldwell, do you mind if we take a look around really quickly?" Lizzy looks for permission. "We just want to be one hundred percent sure that a break in never happened."

"Yeah, ok." Jonathan gets up from his seat, the agents following suit. "Um, can I ask you something?"

"Sure," Sam nods his go ahead.

"You ever seen anything quite like this?" he points to his own face.

After a slight pause Sam and Lizzy answer together. "No."

"Great." Jonathan says in a sad voice. "Well, have at it. If you think there's any way to help me… any way at all… please let me know."

"We will," Lizzy vows as they begin their search of the apartment.

"How would you feel about hunting down and killing a fucking witch!?" Lizzy angrily asks as she bursts through the front door of their motel to find Dean watching TV while stretched across their bed, remote in hand.

"Great. What'd you guys find?" she asks, turning off the TV and sitting up to talk to them.

"Mr. Cauldwell just happened to run into a woman at a bar the night before he got permanently tagged with makeup," Sam explains, tossing his suit jacket onto his bed before sitting behind his laptop at the table. "A woman who got irrationally angry with him for offering to buy her a drink."

"Ok…" Dean starts, not quite following how this helps.

"Dude, he went to The Truck Stop," Lizzy explains for her as she kicks off her heels and drops down onto the bed next to Dean. "And the description of the chick sounds awful familiar."

"She was about five-three, strawberry blonde hair, wearing all black," Sam adds in and watches as the recognition washing across Dean's face.

"The bitch from the bar!?" he points to Lizzy.

"Guess you really should have let me beat her ass, huh?" Lizzy pointedly says, wishing now more than ever he'd let her have her way.

"Hindsight. So the rude chick is the witch?" Dean wonders aloud.

"Sure looks like it," Sam answers as he pulls a hex bag out of his pants pocket and tosses it to Dean. "And we found this in Jonathan's apartment."

She catches it and immediately unties the string holding it closed. Inside is the same bunch of singed yellow flowers, a crumpled up one dollar bill, and what looks like a small piece of leather.

"Look familiar?" Lizzy asks Dean with anger.

"Yeah, but what the hell is this?" she questions while holing up the thin, brittle leather.

"My best guess, animal skin," Sam answers. "I would say from the face since that's exactly what part she went after on Jonathan. She changes his face permanently so she has to include a piece of face in the hex bag."

"So skeevy," Dean remarks disgustedly with a shudder before his brain keeps turning. "Wait, so what were those things that were in the hex bag that got me?"

"I'm thinking reproductive organs," Sam answers quickly. "Since there were two of each they were probably testes and ovaries."

"Gross, man," Dean answers loudly.

"Well, it's what she wanted to change on you," Lizzy rationalizes.

"As if I needed more of a reason to fucking hate witches." Dean sighs. "So who is she?"

"We don't know," Lizzy explains. "We don't have a name, just what she looks like."

"Awesome," Dean sarcastically comments. "So where the hell do we go from here?"

"Don't know," Sam answers. "Talked to Bobby on the way back here and he's going to start looking through what has about obscure black magic spells. Hopefully he finds one that can do this or maybe can be tweaked and do this."

"I can call Cass for an update," Lizzy offers.

"Do that," Dean responds quickly, wanting answers. Lizzy pulls her phone out of her jacket to dial and Dean gets up to grab a beer from the mini refrigerator.

Sam looks her over once as she walks across the room. "Hey. You look… uh, good."

"Gee, thanks weirdo," Dean brushes off with utter annoyance as she bends over and grabs a few bottles. "You checking me out now too?"

"No! God, no." Sam turns away from her to look at the computer screen instead, avoiding having his eyes fall on Dean again. "Just, you know, you have clothes that fit and all. You look more, I don't know, comfortable. And put together."

"Yeah, well," Dean starts as she hands her brother a drink and looks down at herself. "It's better than trying to make Lizzy's shit work for me."

"And it still looks like you," Sam tries to compliment without being too awkward about it. Dean's flannel and t-shirt are black, blue, and white and the jeans are light, worn in looking. It's exactly the kind of thing she'd wear as a he.

"Alright that's enough," Dean stops him from going any further and once more goes to open the beer in her hand with her silver ring. She keeps forgetting that it's not there right now because it doesn't fit. "Damn it."

"Here," Sam tosses over the Impala keys that now have a bottle opener hanging from the key ring.

"What the hell?" Dean instantly complains with the unexpected and unwelcomed change to something related to her car.

"It's temporary," Sam smiles wide. "It only stays on there for as long as your own bottle opener is out of commission."

"Fine," Dean grumbles reluctantly as she opens the two beers in her hold in an unfamiliar way before handing Lizzy one.

"Hey Cassie," Lizzy says into the phone as she takes the offered bottle. "We were looking for an update so call us or pop by the new motel when you can. Hopefully you've got something because we're coming up empty."

"He didn't answer?" Dean questions before taking down a long pull on her bottle.

"Nah. Must be on to something," Lizzy tries to rationalize as she can tell he's in the area. She can still feel him if she concentrates on it. He's close by.

"Let's hope. So what now?"

"I'm thinking that we head to the bar tonight since it seems like her personal hunting ground," Sam tells the room as he watches as Dean's eyes light up a little. "Uh, and we're going there just to be on the lookout."

"I know," Dean returns quickly, Sam's focus solely on him.

"And not get hammered."

"I know!"

"Do you?"

"Shut up Sam!" Dean says an old standby when frustrated in a stern voice that's much less effective now that it's so much more feminine than before. "I know we're on the job, ok? And a couple beers tonight won't hurt. It's been a rough couple a' days if you haven't noticed."

"Just… don't get carried away is all I'm asking," Sam warns as he hears his phone beep. Sam's still nervous about Dean being at any bar while such an emotional and physical mess. Dean drinks his problems and right now he has plenty of problems. Sam takes his cell out to check it, smiling a little when he sees the name attached to the message he just got.

"Well it sounds good to me," Lizzy says as she walks to her duffel to change out of her fed suit. "A few brews and a stake out. Done deal. I'm in."

"Me too," Dean assures.

"Not me," Sam pipes in as he looks up from his phone.

"Why?" Lizzy pauses in the bathroom doorway, bag in hand.

"Rina's getting here by midnight. I should hang back and wait for her, make sure someone's here when she arrives."

"She can just meet us at the bar," Dean brushes off.

"I also want to go over everything with her," Sam explains himself. "Show her the hex bag we found, talk about what she knows to maybe help us out…."

"Get it in good while we're out of the way," Dean tacks on quickly, her eyebrows lift ever so slightly with the comment.

"No," Sam says with a seriously annoyed expression. "Dean, don't even start that crap. I'm not looking for sex while you're a woman."

"You know, out of context that makes for one very confusing statement," Lizzy randomly points out through the closed bathroom door. Dean huffs a laugh.

"What I am looking for is help. For you," Sam reminds his brother turned sister.

"Yeah, I know that Sammy," Dean quietly responds, now feeling a little bad. "I know."

"Good."

"But I'm just saying it's ok with me if you want to work on your Twister skills while Rina's here."

"Do you ever stop?" Sam asks, his agitated state obvious in his tone and expression. How can Dean think this way with everything going on?

"No, I don't," Dean admits with a smile. "I just want you to be happy Sammy. You remember what happy is, right? That thing where you smile and feel good about life for a few minutes."

"Patronizing…"

"And last I checked, Rina seemed to make you happy the when we saw her," Dean continues. "Consider it is all I'm saying, man. We've got plenty of people on this and if you get the opportunity don't let my tits get in the way. You have my blessing."

Lizzy keeps her laugh to herself as she walks back into the room after having heard everything while changing. Sometimes just listening to how they communicate to each other is the most entertaining thing on Earth to her. And Dean hasn't changed one bit personality wise. Her outlook, her attitude, her everything is exactly the same and as always Sam has that stick up his ass.

"Well, thanks so much Dean," Sam caustically replies. "Just don't act like this when she gets here."

"What, and ruin your chances of getting her…"

"Don't finish that sentence," Sam cuts him off and Dean smirks in return.

"So we have an actual plan?" Lizzy asks, jumping onto the bed next to Dean. She lies on her stomach, propped up on her elbows, and looks at them both. "We hit the bar and scope it out, Sam stays and does the boring shit with Rina?"

"Sounds right," Dean answers.

"Sounds awesome."

"Again, you two are not going to the bar to get shit faced," Sam once more tries as he knows when Dean and Lizzy go out they very rarely come back in a clear, sober state of mind.

"We're going to do work. We know," Lizzy says right back, hoping to curb Sam's worries.

"I mean it!" Sam scolds.

"Me too!" Lizzy returns. "Fine, how about this? No shots. Only a few beers and that's it all night."

"You promise?"

"We promise," Dean answers, raising her hand in a pledge.

"Why don't I believe either of you?"

"Sam-I-Am, Jesus! We know how to control ourselves!" Lizzy tells him with anger. "Have some faith. We won't get drunk."

"Here's to getting a little drunk," Lizzy cheers as she holds up her shot glass filled with whiskey. Dean does the same with her own and they both drink them down.

"Ah," Dean sighs as she drops her glass back onto the bar once empty. "Fucking love drinking."

"I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment." Lizzy smiles as she scans over the crowd once more. They chose two bar stools on the far end of the long bar that gives them a clear view of almost the entire place. So far they've been there long enough to down a few beers and a couple shots (totally against Sam's issued warnings but screw that) and there's been no sign of the witch. They have less than an hour left before last call and they're beginning to think she's not going to show up.

"Alright, this bitch better pop in soon or I'm just gonna go ahead and get full blown wasted," Dean comments while raising her hand to order another round. Once they started there was no stopping. It just felt too damn good to let the hazy effects of liquor take away some of the anxiety of her current predicament and Lizzy never had much of a problem with tagging along for the boozy ride.

"I don't think you have to worry too much about that," Lizzy answers. "She's not coming."

"Yeah, I doubt it too."

The bartender walks over, once more eyeing over the two women sitting at the far end of his bar.

"How we doin', ladies?" he smiles smoothly to them while leaning against the bar top with his elbows. He's taken a liking to them.

"Two more," Dean answers, pushing their shot glasses toward the bartender.

"Man do I love a couple chicks that can hold their liquor," he grins wide and grabs the bottle of bourbon they'd been drinking so far. "And run up a nice bar tab." He winks.

"Yeah, we can do some damage," Lizzy laughs back, knowing how beyond true it is.

"Well, I'm impressed so far," he returns while pouring the shots a bit fuller than they were last time before walking away.

"So, is this us officially saying fuck it for the night?" Lizzy grins wide while holding her glass to Dean.

"Definitely," she answers while clinking her glass to Lizzy's and drinking the whiskey down.

"Good," Lizzy cheers as she drops her glass heavily onto the bar. " I could use a good drunken stupor right about now."

"I can definitely say I agree."

Lizzy pauses to look Dean over in her seat. She looks God damned good right about now. The t-shirt just tight enough to frame her bombshell body, the long hair swept up loosely out of her face to display her beauty, her long lashes framing the same green eyes Lizzy's been completely weak for since they'd met… maybe she is a little bit of a lesbian after all. Right now she just wants to jump Dean like she always does after a good couple of shots. Her partner in crime is sexy as hell and for the first time in a long time most of the men in the bar aren't staring at Lizzy. They're staring at the vision of dirty blond perfection in the seat next to her.

"I'm putting on some music," Lizzy says suddenly while getting up from her seat. "Too quiet."

"Well, I'm getting us more booze," Dean responds, the grumpiness still slightly in her tone. "Too sober."

Lizzy smiles at the response she gets and places her hand on Dean's should, giving her a passing kiss on the cheek before walking away.

It couldn't have taken more than a couple seconds of Lizzy's absence before someone was standing by Dean's side.

"Excuse me…"

"Nope," Dean succinctly denies the guy without even looking at him. Sadly, she expected this to happen. She's looked in enough reflective surfaces over the past two days to know what she's now working with. And she did notice how the men had been staring her down wherever she went.

"Nope?" the man echoes as he's surprised with her reaction to him. "No, I uh…"

"Look pal, I know what you were doing, ok?" Dean responds in an annoyed tone and finally looks over to the man interrupting her night. "I'm well versed with the whole pick up artist thing. You couldn't even come up with a new line I haven't already used."

"Used?" the guys asks while utterly confused. "I can't imagine a girl like you needing too many pick-up lines."

"Girl like me huh?" Dean huffs as she takes a sip of her beer before smirking when she hears 'Ramble On' start playing. God she loves her wife. "And what kinda girl do you suppose I am?"

"A very pretty one for starters." He raises an eyebrow to her and smiles. "Other than that I'm not sure. That's why I came over here. To find out."

"Well aren't you just a sweetheart," Dean eye-rolls at him caustically. "Hate to tell you buddy but the tree you're currently barking up is seriously the wrong one."

"What do you mean?" the stranger asks.

Dean turns to nod in Lizzy's direction. "See that hot little piece of ass over there?"

They both peer over to Lizzy as she searches through the juke box selection, her hips swaying suggestively to the music as always.

"Smokin', right?" Dean questions, taking the moment to enjoy her.

"Ah, definitely," the man instantly agrees.

"That right there is all mine," she explains with pointing proudly to Lizzy. "She's my old lady. My girl. So… like I said… wrong tree."

Dean turns back to her beer while the stranger just keeps switching his focus between the two women. Laughing a little to herself, she takes a long sip with glee over fucking with the guy trying to hit on her.

"Who's your friend?" Lizzy questions as she comes back to her spot at the bar and climbs back into her stool.

"My name's Eddy," the man tells her. "And apparently I'm heading back over that way…" he points to his group of friends. "…Because I was just talking up someone that's already taken."

"Can't blame you for trying, Ed," Lizzy smirks while nudging Dean with her foot. "My chick's a hottie. I would've tried too."

Eddy shakes his head in disbelief and walks away. From their places at the bar both women can hear him explaining why he struck out to his friends just a few feet away and Lizzy laughs.

"Man, this is kinda fun."

"Oh yeah, a fucking blast," Dean comments while finishing her beer.

"Dean! Jesus, could you at least try and have a little fun here?" Lizzy complains. "We're at a bar. Drinking. Alone. We're allowed to have a moment of selfish fun for a couple seconds and considering the circumstances, we need some fun. Especially you."

Dean doesn't answer. She grips her empty bottle tighter with her hunched shoulders.

"I'm sorry this is all so weird for you," Lizzy tries again, taking Dean's hand in hers and kissing the back of it sweetly. "But a night off is a night off. Why don't we try and take advantage like we always do. Maybe it'll help you relax a bit, huh?"

"Whatever," Dean shrugs and raises her hand a little to grab the bartender's attention. By the time he gets over to the two women he already has two whiskey shots in hand.

"Here you go, ladies." He drops them down on the bar, one in front of each. "Compliments of that table full of guys right over there." He points to Eddy's table and they all raise their glasses to the couple.

"Ha!" Lizzy laughs, picking up her glass immediately while nudging Dean to do the same. They both cheers the men from where they are and down the shots. Once done, Lizzy getting a little looser as the night goes on, she stands up and cups Dean's face. She kisses her in front of the audience they've found themselves having. Lizzy figured if the men were nice enough to buy them drinks then a quick little show is perfect payback.

The table hollers loudly at the two women but neither really care. What started as something silly quickly moved to something heated. They both begin to realize through the kiss just how much they've missed each other. It's been awkward and uncomfortable… but this feels familiar. This feels like it always does.

As Lizzy ends the embrace she hums a little with appreciation. Dean didn't pull away from her. That has to be a good sign.

"This would normally be where I'd say we should get outta here," Lizzy whispers without backing away completely. Dean slowly opens her eyes to look into her wife's bright, sparkling brown ones. God damn did she want that. Getting fucked up, having a night off, having Lizzy kiss her like that… she would love nothing more than to take Lizzy home and fuck her senseless. But that isn't so easy right now. Technically, Dean can't do any fucking at the moment, at least not in the sense she's used to. She's in unfamiliar territory, something she hasn't had to deal with concerning sex with since she was a high school virgin at a whopping fifteen years old.

"Normally," Dean echoes, the wavering tone clear in her voice. She continues to look up at Lizzy with conflict, her eyes conveying both her want and fear. Normally it's Lizzy who looks to Dean in times like this, her own eyes almost pleading for him when the want reaches such a strong point. But not right now. The tables have turned.

"Aren't you at least a little curious yet?" Lizzy has to ask. She assumed Dean would be from the start and had been shocked with how wrong she was.

"Of course I am," Dean explains herself, the booze and the new heightened emotions that come with being a woman making her words flow a lot freer than usual. "But it's… it's not the same."

"It's still you," Lizzy reminds her.

"Yeah, a whole new me," she sarcastically responds while looking away.

"A whole new you that I still find incredibly sexy," Lizzy keeps talking, getting Dean to focus on her again. "I still want you and I miss being with you. I feel like I've been on the fringes with you for the past few days. I want you back, no matter what that means."

Peering up into Lizzy's eyes Dean can tell she's being truthful. She's seen the expression of desire on Lizzy's face enough times to know she really does want her. Lizzy still wants her. She never lied.

"Plus, even though this is going to make me sound like some crazy sex freak who also just suddenly became bi… I'm pretty damn curious too."

Eyes wide, Dean considers what Lizzy says to her. It does sound like fun. And scary. But really fun. But really frightening at the same time. Son of a bitch.

"We should probably head," Dean stands up from her stool to run to the bathroom before leaving. The way she says it doesn't promise anything to Lizzy but it gives her hope that Dean will find a way to be open and comfortable around her again.

As she wavers a little, unsteady on her feet, Dean looks a little surprised for a second. "Jesus, what's with me?"

"What do you mean?" Lizzy wonders as she watches Dean shake her head.

"I'm having a two-beer-queer day or something," she answers after feeling woozy from standing for the first time all night. "Barely drank anything yet and I'm feeling it like a college chick at her first frat party."

"That's because that's exactly what you are." Lizzy smiles knowingly. "You're half the size so it takes half the booze to tank you. It's an adjustment you have to make."

"Fuck, you calling me a cheap date?" Dean whines, hands on her hips as she stares down Lizzy with the same look she's used her entire life when annoyed by someone.

Lizzy just smiles and reaches out to pull Dean in by the arm. "The cheapest." She pulls Dean into a kiss before swatting her on the ass. "Now go to the bathroom you lush."

"Such a bitch," Dean mutters under her breath as she walks away. Nearly drunk after a few beers and the same amount of shots. Unheard of. This is lame. She pushes open the bathroom door and when the stranger standing at the urinal turns to look at her with shock she realizes her mistake.

"Wrong room, lady," he grumbles as he zips up.

"More like wrong everything," Dean complains as she walks out of the men's room and into the women's.

Standing outside the bar that Dean and Lizzy are currently inside of, Castiel patiently keeps guard from across the street. He's out of sight of all others around, especially the two hunters. With Meg's goal for this attack on Dean he doesn't risk letting the two know of her plan. The demon knows too much as it is concerning Dean and Lizzy's future and he fears that she'll speak a little too freely if given the chance. No, the hunters have to be kept away from Meg. He has to handle this debacle on his own.

So now he waits. It's his only move, really. He's well aware that the two are at the bar to look for a witch they assume is responsible for Dean's transformation. Castiel has kept tabs on them whenever he could for the past few days and knows what they know. He thinks they are on to something and that somehow Meg has tangled herself right up in it.

Castiel stands a little taller when a short woman approaches the bar. She's wearing all black and before heading inside she pauses and looks through one of the front windows. After seeing Lizzy and the brand new Dean inside she turns on her heels to leave instead of go in but is stopped in her tracks when a trench coat-clad man is suddenly in her way.

She gasps with the surprise of his presence standing before her. "You scared me," she huffs out, a hand on her chest.

Castiel doesn't respond. The vibe he gets from her is quite negative and the necklace with pentagram pendant confirms what he had thought.

"You mind getting out of the way?" she impatiently asks with an attitude and she crosses her arms over her chest.

"I know what you are," Castiel explains cryptically. "And I know what you've done."

Her face dropping from annoyed to frightened in a second flat, she turns sharply around to walk away from the stranger but the moment she's facing the opposite direction on the sidewalk she's once again staring at the same stranger.

"How the hell did you do that?" she loudly asks while backing away a few steps in fear.

Castiel doesn't answer. Instead he closes the distance between the two of them swiftly and places two fingers to her forehead. Instantly, they both disappear.