Translation

"We were invited to a wedding tomorrow night." Dean came to a stop, the words he'd been about to say dying on his lips. Earlier, he had checked them into an inn, and much to his chagrin, been put into separate rooms as they weren't married. Not that that stopped him from just waltzing into Jane's room, like just now… while she was apparently changing. "At least, I think it's a wedding. Could be dinner. I don't speak Mexican and they sure as hell don't speak English."

"Spanish and do you mind?" Jane demanded, turning so her back was to him as she slid her arms through the white blouse.

"Not at all. I bought them, didn't I?"

That made her grit her teeth, though she kept her head down, focusing on fastening the buttons. The blouse was lovely, the ankle length skirt and flat shoes were also lovely. He had bought her lovely clothes… but that did not entitle him to a free show. "I'll pay you back."

"No need, sweetheart."

He was right behind her now. Jane turned around, frowning slightly as he reached out a hand. "What are you doing?"

"Your hair is down." He began finger combing the black tresses that lay over her shoulder. "I've only seen it up, and frizzy."

"You sure know how to charm a girl."

"I try."

Clearing her throat, Jane stepped away, putting a respectable amount of space between them. "Wedding or dinner?"

"Could be both. Come on, let's go check it out."

It was a wedding, which would be followed by a reception, which meant food and liquor. Dean was a happy man. Of course that was tomorrow night; they still had to get through the rest of today. Luckily for him, Jane seemed to know enough Spanish –Mexican, whichever, tomato, tomahto- to get by for them both.

"Come on sweetheart, find out what there is to do around here." He urged, flashing a smile at the older woman Jane was attempting to talk too.

"Don't call me sweetheart."

"Just do it, unless you'd like to go back to the hotel and…"

Jane narrowed her eyes at him before turning her attention back to the lady she was trying to speak with. He was such a pervert and for the life of her, she couldn't figure out why she was still here. She should have done the smart thing and phoned home, or the cops, and announced she had been kidnapped by some strange guy. A strange guy who thought he was charming and had a smile that could melt…

Whoa Jane, reign that in now

She was shocked back into the conversation by a word she was misinterpreting. Or not, even Dean picked it up and moved in closer, looking more interested now. "Ghost, she's saying something about a ghost, and the wedding."

Dean's eyes narrowed slightly, and he heaved a sigh. "Always a catch."

Jane just quirked an eyebrow at him.

Perfect, just perfect. He came on a vacation to get away from hunting and what happens? A case, that's what, just perfect. Dean glanced at Jane from the corner of his eye and regretted buying her the skirt, that thing was going to get snagged on brush or something. He scratched the regret part, it could be interesting… Providing they didn't kill themselves in the dark.

"What are we doing up here?"

"Paying our respects." He muttered, eyeballing the small cemetery with a deepening frown. "Find her."

"Find her… The bride? Seriously?" Jane balled her free fist and planted it on her hip; glowering at him through the light provided by the lantern she carried in her other hand. "You dragged me up here to find a grave of some local legend? Are you out of your mind?"

"Just do it." He walked away from her, his own lantern lighting his way as he trekked to where he had stashed his gear earlier in the day. He had left her to browse the market stalls after using her as a translator for a very awkward investigation that had probably left her questioning his sanity.

Well now, she wasn't questioning it, she was full on thinking he was a psycho. Hell, he couldn't blame her.

He could only imagine what his father would say, knowing he had dragged a civilian onto a hunt, and one like her no less. He blocked out the mentally reaming his consciousness was providing him. Dad wasn't here. He had to make do with what he had, and he had needed a translator. Even if she was a crappy one.

From what he had been able to piece together was that some woman way back when had been jilted on her wedding day and then murdered her run-away groom and his lover. Now anyone who was ballsy enough to try marrying in the town's rather beautiful courtyard garden was just asking to die.

Apparently this decade's bride didn't believe the legend and had gone ahead with planning her wedding and reception within the courtyard. That had been enough to set the ghost off and there had been a number of accidents. Dean preferred to think of them as warnings, but the bride wasn't listening to reason, she was determined to go ahead with her wedding. He wasn't going to lie, letting her die was tempting, she was being stupid but…

"This is her."

He bent down, picking up the satchel and shovel he had stowed earlier. "Good." Translation, that's what she was here for. That was what he was going to tell himself, and that very Dad like voice in his head.

Jane was crouching in the dirt, studying the weathered stone that marked the grave. She was in a graveyard, in Mexico, in the middle of the night with a very strange man. She was pretty sure she was going to wind up on the back of a milk carton. The sound of Dean's boots alerted her to his presence and she looked up, frowning as she tried to make out what he was carrying.

A second later, the shovel piercing dirt told her all she needed to know and she fell backwards onto her butt. "Are you insane?!"

"I'm starting to wonder that myself." He muttered, beginning to dig.