~*****~

Back in Black blasted from the speakers of the Impala as it sped down a long highway. Dean and I had finally got her back up to par after a couple of weeks of nonstop working, and sex. She was shiny, and looked like she was brand new. When I heard the engine purr when we started her up, I just about died. That lovely sound brought a grin to my face. And to Dean's as well. He was in a good mood. A really good mood.

"Listen to her purr! Have you ever heard anything so sweet?" Dean asked loudly with that goofy grin spread over his lips. The windows were down, and I took the opportunity to let my semi long hair billow through the wind as I sat in the passenger seat.

"You know, baby, if you two need a room, just let Sammy and I know." I teased.

"Oh, don't listen to her, baby. She just doesn't understand us." Dean cooed as he stroked at the dash. I started to laugh and cast my gaze towards him.

"She's a home wrecker." I comment with a grin. "You're in a good mood."

"Why shouldn't I be?" Dean questioned.

I just shrugged as Sam leaned over the front seat. "No reason." Sam answered.

"Got my car, got my girl, got a case - things are lookin' up!" Dean listed happily.

"Wow, give you a couple of severed heads and a pile of dead cows and you're all Sammy Sunshine." I joked.

"How far's Red Lodge?" Dean asked as he reached over and grasped my hand.

"About another three hundred more miles." I retort as I gaze down at my map.

"Good." Dean said with a mischievous smirk on his lips. He pushed on the gas, and the Impala sped up. I let out a girlish squeal of excitement as we easily broke passed the speed limit.

~*****~

Once we got to the Red Lodge, we decided to head down to the police station. The sheriff sat opposite of us at the desk as we posed as reporters from a news station. I stood behind Sam and Dean, and held my camera to my chest. "The murder investigation is ongoing, and that's all I can share with the press at this time." The sheriff informed us, his mustache moving a bit as he spoke.

"Sure, we understand that, but just for the record, you found the first, uh, head last week, correct?" Sam questioned as he held his notepad and pen up like a real nosey reporter.

"Mm-hmm." The sheriff nodded.

"Okay, and the other, a uh, Christina Flanigan," Dean started, and kept jotting down a crude depiction of the sheriff with a large, twilly mustache coming out of his nostrils.

"That was two days ago," The sheriff said, immediately taking over the conversation. "Is there --" He was cut off as a young woman knocked on the door, and pointed to her watch. "Oh, sorry, guys. Times up. We're done here."

"One last question --" Sam rushed out as he and Dean shot out of their seats.

"Yeah, what about the cattle?" Dean asked.

"Excuse me?" The sheriff asked as he paused and sat back down.

"You know, the cows found dead, split open, drained.... over a dozen cases." Dean explained.

"So you don't think there's a connection?" Sam inquired.

"Connection... with?" The sheriff dragged out, and motioned for us to elaborate.

"First cattle mutilations, now two murders? Kinda sounds like ritualistic stuff." I stated firmly.

"You know, like satanic cult ritual stuff?" Dean pressed. The sheriff looked between the three of us before busting out laughing.

"You -" He laughed harder as the three of us shared a look. The sheriff seemed to pick up on our serious tone. His laughter died down. "You're not kidding."

"No." Dean shook his head.

"Those cows aren't being mutilated. You wanna know how I know?" The sheriff asked.

"How?"

"Because there's no such thing as cattle mutilation. Cow drops, leave it in the sun, within forty-eight hours, the bloat will split it open so clean it's just about surgical. The bodily fluids fall down into the ground and get soaked up because that's how gravity works." The sheriff explained. Sam shifted the collar on his shirt nervously. "But, her, it could be Satan. What newspaper you say you work for?"

Dean coughed. "World Weekly News...."

"Weekly World News," I corrected quickly.

"World-"

"Weekly World-" Sam tried to correct him this time, but they both ended up stumbling.

"Get out of my office." The sheriff snapped.

"Yessir-" I retorted nervously and grabbed onto Sam and Dean, and started tugging them out. As we left the station, I rounded on them with a furious look. "Really? Weekly World News?"

"I panicked!" Dean hissed. "I didn't hear you try to help!"

"You already blew our cover when you opened your pie hole!" I snapped while slipping into the passenger seat of the Impala.

"What would you have called it?" Sam asked while leaning over the front seat to look at me.

I pursed my lips for a moment before shrugging. "You got me there, I have no clue." I admitted sheepishly.

Dean snorted and started the Impala.

~*****~

I let out a soft huff as I tugged on a lab coat while Sam and Dean stepped into the room with our badges. Dean just looked me up and down for a few moments as Sam stepped out of the room. "What?" I ask softly.

"Oh, nothing," Dean hums as he tugs at my lab coat. "Nurse." I narrowed my eyes at him and fought that flush crawling up my neck. A lone intern sat at the desk in the far end of the room. I glanced at the name tag. 'J. Manners.' I elbowed Dean in the ribs and gestured to it.

"John," Dean guessed.

"Jeff," The intern corrected quickly, and stood up.

"Jeff, I knew that." Dean chuckled. "Dr. Dworkin needs to see you in his office right away."

"But Dr. Dworkin is on vacation." Jeff pointed out.

"Well, he's back and he's pissed, and he's screaming for you, man, so if I were you, I'd..." Dean whistled as the interns face immediately fell and he ran off. "Okay?"

Sam closed the door behind Jeff and we waited for a second. "Hey, those Satanists in Florida, they marked their victims, didn't they?" I hear Dean ask.

"Yeah, reverse pentacle on the forehead." I answered.

"Yeah," Dean leaned over the desk and pulled out some latex gloves, and held out a few pairs for Sam and I. "So much f'd up crap happens in Florida."

I scoffed and nodded. "Like golden aged nudists." I say calmly. I opened up the compartment of the latest victim, and rolled her table out. A plastic container sat between the vic's legs.

"All right, open it." Dean sighed, and motioned for his brother to open it.

"You open it." Sam countered as his face contorted in disgust.

"Oh for fucks sake." I snapped, and grabbed the box. I reached in and pulled out the head with a scrunched up nose. "Well, it's not Satanists." I say softly. "No mark."

"Wow. Poor girl." Sam breathed out.

"Maybe we should, uh, you know, look in her mouth, see if those wackos stuffed anything down her throat. You know, kinda like the moth in Silence of the Lambs." Dean suggested and punched Sam's shoulder.

"Yeah, here, go ahead." Sam nodded, and turned the head around for Dean.

"No, you go ahead." Dean shot back and turned the head again.

"What?"

"Put the lotion in the basket." Dean quoted.

"You two are seriously the weakest men ever." I retorted and dragged the head back to me. I pushed my finger between her lips and started feeling around. "One of you get me a bucket." I comment as my stomach clenches up. A very familiar smell wafts up and it's almost enough to churn my insides.

"You find something?" Dean questioned.

"No, I'm gonna puke." I snipped. Dean looked at me with an annoyed expression and leaned forward to look in the head. My finger ran over a small hole in the gums, and I had to stop. "Woah, okay, pukey time gone. What in the world?"

"What is that? A hole?" Dean asked as I used my other hand to keep the gum up.

I pressed down on it, and a fang popped out. "It's a tooth." Sam said with a look of surprise on his face.

"It's a fang." I corrected, and retracted my hands. "A retractable set of vampire fangs. You have got to be shitting me." I sighed heavily.

"This changes things." Sam added.

"Ya think?" Dean said sarcastically.

~*****~

Dean gave me a wink as we stepped out of the Impala at a rinky dink little bar to have a drink and discuss the case. The place was moderately crowded, and it actually made me happy to see I was the prettiest hag in the joint. Dean wrapped a protective arm around my waist as we weaved through the floor, and took a seat at the bar top. As soon as I took a seat, a small margarita clinked onto the counter top. I looked at it curiously before gazing up at the bartender. He jut his thumb to a very muscular, and tatted up biker at the other end of the bar. He gave me a look that I had confused as either lust, or a homicidal maniac stare. Dean shoved it in front of Sam, who gratefully sucked it down.

"How's it goin'?" Dean greeted as he rested his hand atop my thigh.

"Living the dream. What can I get for you?" The bartender asked as he flung his cloth over his shoulder.

"Three beers." Dean recited.

"So, we're looking for some people." I hinted.

"Sure. Hard to be lonely?" The bartender smoothly said. He turned back around and set down the three beers. I took a small sip before continuing.

"Yeah. But that's not what I meant." I said lowly, and tugged a fifty from my bra, and dropped it onto the counter. The bartender looked at it, then back at us before reaching out and taking it. "Right, so, these people, they would have moved here about six months ago, probably pretty rowdy, like to drink."

"Yeah, real night owls, you know? Sleep all day, party all night." Dean continued. The bartender thought for a bit.

"Barker Farm got leased out a couple of months ago. Real winners. They've been here a lot - drinkers. Noisy. I've have to eighty-six them twice." The bartender told us. We exchanged looks before I gave the man a polite smile.

"Thanks." He nodded his head in acknowledgement. Dean relooped his arm around my waist and we left the bar. We rounded down an alleyway as the hairs on the back of my neck rose. "Someone's following us." I whispered softly as I grasped onto Sam and Dean's wrists.

"I know." Dean whispered back. We rounded a corner and ducked behind a car. I pulled out my knife as a man rounded the corner not too soon after. He scoped around for a moment, and once he dropped his guard, I went after him. He grunted in shock as I pinned him to the wall, and shoved my knee up against his groin.

"Smile sweet heart, and if you value your pride, I'd keep still." I snapped.

"What?" The man asked as he looked at Sam and Dean behind me before taking a look at me.

"Show us those pearly whites." Dean hissed.

"Oh, for the love of - you want to stick that thing someplace else? I'm not a vampire." The man grumbled, and moved an inch before freezing as I threatened to knee him. I raised my eyebrow a little. "Yeah, that's right, I heard you guys in there."

"What do you know?" I questioned.

"How to kill them. Now, seriously, babe; that knifes makin' me itch." The man tried, and I cocked my head at him. I didn't release him. Something in my gut made me hesitate. I pressed the knife tighter as he started moving a bit. "Easy there, doll." He said slowly. I gestured to his lip. He rolled his eyes, and pulled it up, revealing normal gums. "See? Fangless. Happy?" He urged. I kept my knife on him and glared harder.

"Lottie, come on." Dean urged gently, and grasped at my arm.

The man smirked down at me. "Oh, I don't mind being held up by a fine piece of work like her. Just as long as there's a reward." I shoved myself off of him.

"Back off." Dean growled as he tugged me behind him.

The man held up his hands in defense. "Sorry, I can't help myself when I see a beautiful piece of-"

"I don't care what you can or can't do, you'll show her some respect." Dean snapped. I grasped onto Dean's wrist and silently thanked him for defending me.

The man nodded after a second. "Now, who the hell are you?" The man asked as he led us to his car. Dean introduced us all, but when he said my nickname, I quickly spat out my full name, because I didn't want this creep to call me anything by Carlotta. The guys name was Gordon Walker. I watched as he pulled open his car door, and tugged out a secret compartment full of different varieties of weapons. "Sam and Dean Winchester. I can't believe it. You know, I met you old man once. Hell of a guy. Great hunter. I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes, but from what I hear, you guys fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot -" Gordon told them with a smile. He pointed his gaze at me. "Heard about that wendigo you off'd - some talent for a kid." I looked away from him and shuffled in my heels.

"You seem to know a lot about our family." Dean grumbled.

"Word travels fast. You know how hunters talk." Gordon shrugged.

"No, we don't, actually." Sam exclaimed.

"I guess there's a lot your dad never told you, huh?" Gordon said with a smirk. 

"So, um, so those two vampires, they were yours, huh?" Sam asked after a second.

"Yep. Been here two weeks." Gordon said with a proud smile.

"Did you check out Barker Farm?" Dean questioned.

"It's a bust. Just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though, they could kill you with that patchouli smell alone." Gordon explained.

"Where's the nest then?" Dean shot back as he crossed his arms over his chest.

"I got this one covered." Gordon nodded, and slid his arsenal back into his car and leaned against the door. "Look, don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meetin' you guys. But I've been on this thing over a year. I killed a fang back in Austin, tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it."

"We could help." Dean offered.

"Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a go-it-alone type of guy." Gordon explained.

"Come on, man. I've been itching for a hunt." Dean tried to coax, but thankfully, Gordon wasn't having it.

"Sorry, but hey! I hear there's a chupacabra two states over. You go ahead and knock yourselves out." Gordon mocked as he got into the car. He turned his body to gaze at us. "It was real good meeting you, though. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side."

The car sped off, leaving us in the road alone. "Please don't tell me we're following him?" I questioned softly.

Dean gave me a firm look. "Of course we are."

I groaned heavily and slipped into the back of the Impala.

~*****~

Dean managed to track Gordon to an old mill. His car was parked outside, so we were definitely in the right place. As we exited the car, sounds of a struggle echoed through the mill. We exchanged looks before taking off. The whirr of an electrical saw cut through the mill as we closed in.

Just as we rounded the corner, we saw Gordon laying on the floor, with the vampire over him, and pulling the saw downwards to decapitate him. Before the blade got to him, Sam grasped at Gordon's feet and lugged him away. I grabbed onto the man's shirt and got him to his feet before shoving him off. I would've helped Dean fight off the vamp, but the ruthless way he handled it hand me frozen in place. He jabbed a harpoon into the vampires gut. He bent over with a gasp of pain before Dean whacked him over the head with it. The vampire fell onto the bench Gordon was on, underneath the saw. Dean lifted the harpoon above his head and jammed it through the vampire's chest. He let out a pained scream.

My gut wrenched in fear as Dean became something completely different. Dean punched the vampire a few times before his eyes wandered up to the saw. My entire body went cold as he reached up and grasped it. "Dean, don't-" I tried, but before I could stop him, he brought it down, decapitating the vampire. Blood sprayed out, and splattered against Dean.

Dean turned to face us, and I backed up a couple of steps. His eyes; they were void of emotion or sympathy. He held the eyes of a killer. "So, uh, I guess I gotta buy you that drink." Gordon huffed out with a tiny chuckle.

It wouldn't surprise me if my eyes were the size of dinner plates. Dean stared over at me for a moment. He remained cold, and hard; as if he could see the fear etched within my soul. He took a step towards me, and I stumbled back, and whirled around to get out of there. Sam followed close by after casting a glance to his brother.