Diamonds mocked Dean Winchester wherever he went.

Haunted diamonds, new diamonds, layaway diamonds, diamonds in his dreams, big ones, little ones, diamonds named after fruit.

Diamonds.

He tried hard not to think about the one Charlie Taylor put on Katherine's finger. She's not wearing it now, and he wants to wonder why, but he forces himself not to care. It isn't his business. She isn't his.

She drums her brown manicured fingernails on the table and he stares at the tan line on her left hand. She's had a lot of time in the Florida sun, apparently.

It's November second, and she was on a beach forty-eight hours ago.

In the silence, Dean works out Katherine's soon-to-be new name in his head. Katherine Taylor. He wants to grimace.

"What?"

Maybe he did.

Dean looks up from his coffee cup with raised eyebrows. Katherine's chin rests in her palm, big blue eyes trained right onto his, seeing right through him. It sends a jolt into his stomach.

"It's been kind of quiet the past few months," he says. 

He hasn't called her, he hasn't texted her, he hasn't emailed her. He left it all to Sam, if he wanted to talk to her at all. Of course he did. She was his best friend. So Dean knew all about how radio silent the demons were over the past three and a half months.

Her hair was a brighter blonde then. 

The first thing he's said to her since July 6th was "Hey." What else was there for him to say? He didn't know. She made him nervous.

"Yeah," Katherine sighs, leaning back in her chair with folded arms. He feels the toe of her bootbrush against his ankle as she crosses hers underneath the table. Her gaze focuses on the iron, brows furrowed. "Kind of makes me afraid of what's going on. What they're planning."

It seemed so easy for her. She's talking like they've been in the same motel room for months on end. Like it's business as usual. 

He doesn't want to feel how painful it is.

Katherine Taylor.

"How've you been?" He asks after a few moments of silence. Blue eyes snap up to his.

"Good," she quietly replies. "My legs itch though."

A ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of Dean's mouth. "Bloodthirsty Blonde."

Katherine chuckles, but doesn't say anything else in regards to the past three months. He doesn't know if she's angry at him for not calling. He's angry at himself. And not.

"Sam went after a crossroads demon," Dean blurts. Katherine stills, and her eyes float up to his.

"Yours?" He nods. "How..." She clears her throat and sits up a little. "How do you know?"

"There's a bullet missing from the Colt."

He can see the wheels turning. Thank God. He thought he didn't know her anymore. "Does that mean you're out of your deal?" Her voice is a soft, guarded kind of hopeful. He thinks.

Dean swallows and shakes his head. He watches her eyes dim. "Someone else holds the contract...he couldn't figure out who."

Katherine's lips roll into her mouth. "Has asked two questions and he killed it, didn't he?"

Dean chuckles. "Probably." He sips at his coffee with two shots of vodka. "We got into a big fight about the whole thing."

"Inconceivable." He looks up with furrowed brows. Katherine is smirking behind her coffee cup, blue eyes shining with challenge and humor.

"Smart ass."

"I missed you," she admits after a few moments.

Dean allows himself to feel warm. He smiles a little. "I missed you, too. But you didn't have to fly all the way out here. Coulda called."

"Would you have answered?" Katherine asks, eyes not meeting his. 

No, Katherine Taylor, I don't think I would have.

"Sam's got an old woman after him." Katherine raises a brow. "Miss Case. Not Mrs. What a woman."

"So what's the case with Miss Case?" She gestures to Dean's suit. 

"She found her niece. Drowned."

"Well that's terrible."

"In the shower."

Katherine opens her mouth and takes a deep breath, looking as though she may speak. Then she closes it again. Then she gestures for Dean to continue. 

"Miss Case said Sheila had mentioned seeing a boat that just disappeared right in front of her."

"Flying Dutchman in Massachussets?" Katherine hums. "We love a good death omen." Katherine pulls her computer from her backpack. Dean frowns.

"What are you doing?"

"Waiting for Sam to come back."

"Well...I'm right here."

Katherine looks him up and down. "You aren't researching either."

He blinks at her. "So just like that, you're back?"

Katherine shrugs, opening her laptop. "I told you, my legs itch."

By the time Sam came back from the bathroom, she'd already formulated an opinion, and found a string of deaths that crop up every thirty-seven years with sightings of a clipper—whatever the hell that is.

"So basically, you see the ship, and then a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye," Katherine says. 

"So what do we do now?" Dean asks.

"We gotta ID the boat," Sam replies. "And figure out who Alex is."

Katherine frowns. "Who's Alex?"

"Shouldn't be too hard, right?" The eldest Winchester shrugs. "How many three-mast clipper ships have wrecked off the coast?" His voice trails off as Katherine begins to laugh. "What?"

"Over 150."

Dean frowns. "How do you know that already?"

"I'm nothing if not efficent."

Sam sighs, smiling to himself. "God, I missed you."

"Who's Alex?" Katherine asks again.

"Oh." Sam shrugs. "Miss Case said someone named Alex had been around questioning her and was a big help, apparently. Could be another player."

"Doesn't change how we do our job," Dean interjects.

"All right," Katherine sighs, rapidly tapping her mousepad in annoyance. "Let's roll, this place's wifi is acting up."

Dean kept to himself, listening to Sam and Katherine chit chat as they walked back to the Impala. 

Katherine and Sophia have grown somewhat distant since the summer. She didn't elaborate on why. Charlie wants to get a dog. They still don't have a bed frame. Charlie wants everyone over for the Superbowl. 

Charlie knows everything. Dean's deal...Katherine's family history...

Dean has a theory. Charlie is gay and Katherine is his beard, or he has a side piece. Why else would he be fine with Katherine leaving again?

Dean frowns, staring at the empty parking space in front of them. "This is where we parked the car, right?"

Katherine shields her eyes from the sun, looking up and down the street full of cars. When the cab pulled in to the harbor parking lot, she was sure this is where she saw the Impala. Right in front of the stairs they just came up...

"Where's my car?"

"Did you feed the meter?" She carefully asks. 

"Yes, I fed the meter," Dean replies. "Guys, where's my car?" His voice is full of panic. He whirls on the other two with the eyes of a madman. "Someone stole my car!"

"Dean, calm down—"

"I am calm!" Dean snaps at his brother. "Somebody stole my—" He runs his hands over his shortly-cut hair and gulps down a breath.

"O-kay." Katherine sets her bags down and walks over to Dean. "Let's sit down before you pass out."

"A '67 Impala?" A british female voice asks. "Was that yours?"

Katherine, her back facing the woman, slowly blinks. Dean watches her features stone over, and she stands up straight before turning around. All deliberate movements.

"I'm sorry, I had that car towed," Bela says. 

Bela. Fucking. Talbot.

"You what?" Dean loudly asks, lacking breath.

"Well...it was in a tow-away zone."

"No it wasn't!"

She smiles a little. "It was when I finished with it."

"What the hell are you even doing here?" Katherine asks, her voice like ice.

Bela shrugs. "A little yachting."

"You're Alex," Sam accuses.

Katherine grimaces. "You're working with that old lady?"

Bela simpers. "Gert's a dear old friend."

"Yeah right," Katherine snaps. "What's your angle?"

"I don't see why you care," Bela chuckles. "You rolled into town thirty minutes ago." Katherine can only take one step forward before Sam slips a finger into her belt loop, effectively yanking her back into place, as Bela takes an equal step back. "There are lots of lovely old women like Gert up and down the eastern seaboard," Bela hums. "I sell them charms, perform seances so they can commune with their dead cats..."

"And it's all a con," Dean hums.

"The comfort I provide them is very real," Bela negates. Katherine looks over her with a grimace as the brunette starts away.

"How do you sleep at night?" Sam snarls.

Bela turns on the three with a grin. "On silk sheets," she says. "Rolling naked in money. Really, Sam. I expect the attitude from these two, but you?"

Sam levels his gaze at her incredulously. "You shot Katherine."

"I barely grazed her," Bela scoffs. "Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved, by the way."

Dean frowns. "It isn't."

"She didn't know that. Now the old bag's stopped payment and hse's demanding real answers."

"Oh, no, accountability?" Katherine asks, mockingly sympathetic. 

Bela grits her teeth. "Just stay out of my way before you lot cause any more trouble."

Dean looks to Katherine, then Sam, then Bela. "No."

"I'd get to that car if I were you, Dean," Bela tuts. "Before they find the arsenal in your trunk."

Bela Talbot starts away from the trio. Katherine huffs. "At this point, is it cold-blooded murder if I suffocate her in her sleep?"

"I'm gonna be the one to suffocate her. She stole my car!"

"She stole my family's deadly grimoire," Katherine retorts. "The suffocation privileges are mine, Winchester."

Sam sighs a little, glancing between the two. "It's like you never left."

"How about a compromise?" Dean poses, picking up her duffle as Katherine slings her backpack over her shoulder. 

"What do you suggest?"

Dean shrugs, and the two start down the sidewalk. "I shoot her in the thigh, you shoot her in the chest. Then we both kill her. Kind of."

Katherine grunts, obviously dissatisfied. "I'll think about it."

"Why haven't you killed her yet?" Sam asks, falling in step with the two.

The woman lets out a heavy sigh. "I'm, uh...workin' on it."