"She wants to come?" Sam sat on the passenger side of the Impala, his expression baffled. It was hot and rainy. Not the ideal weather to burn a corpse. But they'd take what they could get.

"Yep," Dean replied.

"And you said yes?" Sam asked.

"I did," Dean agreed.

"You are an idiot. You know that right?" Sam replied.

"Hey listen," Dean turned to face his brother, "The girl's a killer fighter. She knocked you on your ass and you're what…twice her size? And she knows her lore. That anthropology PHD is handy. And she's already survived a nest of vampires. Burning a body will be fine. She can hold the flashlight."

"Yeah. She can. And tonight nothing will happen. But you aren't just thinking about tonight," Sam replied, "You like her. You wanna keep her."

"She's not a puppy," Dean snapped, "Now shut up! She's coming."

"I am realizing just now that this is the first time I've seen her wear real clothes," Sam commented.

Dean was thinking something similar. And he was pleased. It was warm that night. It was May after all. And Ji-a was wearing a clingy, wide-legged black jumpsuit with abstract tan floral print. The neckline was low and she'd slung a dark blue rain jacket around her shoulders.

"I assumed black was appropriate," she said, climbing into the backseat, "And I brought my favorite flashlight."

"See," Dean said to Sam, "She has a favorite flashlight."

"We going to desecrate a grave or what?" Ji-a asked.

She did great. All things considered. That is until they actually opened the casket and poured on the gasoline. Approximately twelve seconds after Dean dropped the match, Ji-a deposited her favorite flashlight on the ground - mindfully pointing it in the correct direction so at least she didn't leave them without light - and went to vomit in the bushes.

Dean looked back and forth between the flaming corpse and his would-be girlfriend.

Sam took the gas can from him and shoved him towards Ji-a.

"Go," Sam said, "I'll make sure it doesn't smolder out in the rain."

"Hey," Dean whispered, putting a hand on Ji-a's back where she knelt in the shrubbery, "You alright?"

"I was…" Ji-a said, gagging, "But the smell."

"Yeah it takes some getting used to," Dean said, "Gasoline and burning flesh don't make a great combination."

"Got it," Ji-a said hurriedly, retching bile on the grass.

"You done?" Dean asked.

"I don't think there's anything left to vomit up at this point," Ji-a sank back on her heels.

"Come here," Dean said, taking her arm and helping her up, "I got ya. Sam's almost done. Come to the car with me and we'll get you home."

Sam went to bed in a huff.

Dean sat on the couch next to Ji-a and rubbed her back as she tried to get down a bottle of Gatorade. He'd made her shower and change, then done the same himself, leaving her in the living room with instructions to hydrate. She'd had exactly three sips of the Gatorade when he returned.

"So," Dean said, "Still want to help with our job?"

"Did what you just did keep anyone else from dying?" Ji-a asked. She bent forward to put the bottle of Gatorade on the table. Dean picked it back up, took off the cap, and tipped it into her mouth.

"Fine," she muttered, swallowing, "This tastes like alligator piss. But I will drink it."

"Good girl," Dean murmured, "And yeah. Nobody else is gonna get wasted."

"Then yeah," Ji-a replied, "I did something useful. I haven't felt useful for a while."

"What do you mean? You helped your sister didn't you? You teach your kids. You coach…"

"I helped my sister," Ji-a agreed, cutting him off, "But what does the rest of it amount to? I know there are people out there getting killed. By vampires. By ghosts…apparently. By changelings. Heck I wrote a seventy-three page thesis on changelings. But what have I done about it? Nothing. And I want that to change."

"You're sure?" Dean asked, "You just puked your guts out after all."

"I'm sure," Ji-a nodded, "You know what happened after my first real Muay Thai class?"

"Tell me," Dean said, "Finish the Gatorade first."

She plugged her nose and chugged it.

"Okay," Ji-a took a deep breath, "I had been at the tourist class for about three weeks. My husband and I had started going out. And his brother invited me to their 'real' class. And I was twenty-four and trying to be cool and of course I said yes. I was not, of course, prepared for the fact that it would last six hours. I got so dehydrated and overheated I passed out. My husband…who of course I was trying to be cool in front of…had to put ice packs on my groin to get my temperature down. And do you know what I did?"

Dean cracked a smile, "I can guess."

"I showed up again the next day," Ji-a said, "Until I could do that entire class easy. I'm not sure if you've noticed but I don't back down if I've set my mind to something."

She chuckled.

"Hey Sam!" Dean shouted, "Get in here."