"Bobby? I'm back." Alex kicked closed the front door and carried the grocery bag into the kitchen. "I got the job. And your, uh . . . stuff." She set the bag onto the dirty wooden countertops, shaking her head at the sight of the dismal pile of dishes still stacked in the sink.

"Put it on the table for now," Bobby called from his desk in the next room. "Then get your ass in here."

Alex rolled her eyes, but moved the bag from the counter to the just-as-cluttered kitchen table. "Thanks a lot," she muttered as she entered the dark and dusty study.

"What?" Bobby didn't look up from the pile of books he was flipping through.

"I'm officially on the sheriff's radar thanks to you."

That got him to look up. "What?" Bobby repeated, looking genuinely confused. "Why?"

"The whiskey. In the bag," Alex explained. Bobby didn't get it, and Alex threw her head back in annoyance. "I'm only seventeen, Bobby. Apparently me having that is illegal."

The hunter blinked before turning back to his book. "It's a stupid law," the hunter muttered, probably to himself. "You ain't gonna drink it anyways."

"Yeah. That's what I told her during the little conversation we had. I had to talk my way out of what probably would have been serious trouble, thank you very much."

"Whatever. Did you get it?" When Alex nodded he shifted his chair backwards. "Good. Now come here and help me with this."

Alex rolled her eyes again, but allowed the change of topic. "What?" She circled around the desk to stand behind him, peering over his shoulder to see what lay on the desk. She didn't recognize the book he had in front of him, and although the language was clearly English, it was obviously an old dialect.

"A couple of hunters called," Bobby explained. "Brothers. Charlie and Duncan Hayward. They're in Upstate Washington on a case."

Alex made a semi-interested noise. "So what are we dealing with?"

"No idea," the hunter reluctantly admitted. "All we know so far is it's something that only goes after people who are drunk."

"Huh. Shojo?" Alex suggested.

Bobby looked up, slightly impressed. "No. Not Japanese. And it's visible to the sober. Good guess though." He turned back to his book. "An eyewitness described it as a pale female who disappeared back into a river. Drowns its victims. That's all we know. Although they're up near a community of Russian descent, which might help narrow it down. But we've still got a lot of work ahead of us."

"Okay." Alex nodded in understanding. "So how can I help?"

Bobby turned the worn, yellowed page."Red book," he instructed. "Upstairs bathroom. Second shelf."

Alex nodded, heading up the stairs. She wound her way through the halls, entering the upstairs bathroom. She walked over to the bookcase, shaking her head. Only Bobby would have a bookcase in the bathroom. Second shelf. Alex ran her finger across the spines of the books before curling them around the red one. Once she had it securely in her arms she hurried back downstairs. "Here."

"Start reading."

Alex blinked in surprise, then shrugged and walked over to the couch. She sat down, swung her legs up onto the seat next to her and opened the book. Then she froze. "Bobby."

"Hm?"

"I can't read this."

"Why not." Bobby didn't look up from his own research.

Alex stared down at the mess of letters. "It's not in English, Bobby," she said, exasperated.

"It's in Russian."

"I don't read Russian."

"May as well start learning." Bobby finally looked up. "You're also going to need to learn Greek and Latin if you want to be a decent hunter."

"Give me the book you're reading," the young girl insisted. When Bobby protested she whined, "I don't want to read the Russian book. You know Russian. You read it."

"I don't want to read the Russian book either," Bobby retorted. "Go use the computer if you have to. It's able to translate or something."

"Yeah, but that's a lot of work." Alex sat up on the couch, shifting the book onto her lap. "How as I suppose to do this?"

...

Several hours passed. Alex finally did opt for Google Translate, and actually picked up a few words. Bobby finally stopped. "I think I've got it." he told her, dropping a large, dusty book in front of her. "Sounds like we're lookin' at a Shishiga."

"Shishiga?" Alex repeated. She looked up, confused. "I haven't heard of that before."

Bobby was going to answer, but one of the many phones rang. "Hold that thought." He picked the phone up. "Hello." Slight pause. "Yes, Agent Milton is one of my best agents." Pause. "Yes sir. I assure you, he's perfectly capable. Of course, ma'am." He hung up and turned back to the young girl. "You were saying? Right. Shishiga. They're pretty rare, but not unheard up, especially in the west coast over there. Here. Read."

Alex did so, trailing her finger down the page as she skimmed it. "White woman, lives in bodies of moving water, brings misfortune to drunkards, drowns it's victims, yeah." She nodded. "Fits the description to a T. So. How do you kill it?" In response, Bobby turned the page. Alex quickly scanned it"Ah. Brass knife to the heart. Classic."

Bobby grunted in agreement and flipped the heavy book closed. "Call Charlie and Duncan," he instructed, handing her a large three-ring binder. "I've got something to finish."

"Uh, okay." Alex picked up the main landline, and flipped open the binder, running her finger through Bobby's many contacts. Hayward, Charlie. She dialed the number and let it ring.

"Hello?" A strange man answered it.

"Charlie?" Alex guessed. "Hey, this is Alex. I'm friends with Bobby Singer. We've been looking into what it is you're hunting. Listen, we think we know what you're dealing with."

"Awesome, uh, Alex, right?" There was muted dialogue on the other end of the line, and Alex heard the familiar rustle as Charlie muted the phone against his shirt. After a few seconds he picked it back up. "So. What have we got?"

"It sounds like a Shishiga. Of Russian origin, similar to a siren." Alex ran her finger down the page. "Drowns any drunken victim that wanders to close to its habitat, which is usually near a lake or river. Described as a pale woman, seems to fit what you're describing pretty well."

"Alright, yeah, that sounds like what we've got. So how do we kill it?"

"Brass knife. You need to cut off it's head."

"Brass knife?" came the muted voice, and there was the sound of a hand hitting skin.

"Put that down, you asshole. You'll kill someone," Charlie muttered before turning back to the phone. "Okay. I might know where to get one. Thanks."

"No problem." Alex hung up, rolling her eyes in amusement.

...

Two weeks passed. Alex fell into a simple routine. She'd work down at Charlie's four days a week, and soon earned a little bit of money with which she was able to buy a new pair of jeans along with two t-shirts that actually fit. The rest of the money went straight to Bobby, who used it to pay the bills and buy food and beer. Alex didn't really mind; she knew money was tight for the old hunter, and was whole-heartedly willing to help out in anyway she could. Whatever she could do to repay him for his hospitality and her room.

When she wasn't working in town or helping in the salvage yard, Bobby insisted that Alex spent the rest of her time reading; if she had to be honest, it was far more boring than she had expected. The english was easy enough, but it wasn't long before Bobby started her on Latin and Greek which, though interesting to look at, only made her head spin once she tried to read it.

...

One sunny day, Alex was out back playing with basketball with the old, rusted hoop she had hung on the side of the house when she heard a voice, "Where's Bobby?"

"Hm?" Alex took a shot, watching it bounce off the backboard and roll off the outside of the rim. She huffed, and turned to see a man standing there. He wasn't very tall, but was thin, and overall, well, awkward looking. Alex immediately recognized him. "Uh, Garth?"

"Yup, that would be me." The young hunter studied her. "Who are you?"

"Alex." Alex let out a half smile in greeting. "I . . . I'm new here." She hurried over to retrieve her basketball, which was quickly rolling away. "Bobby should be inside," she finally said when she caught up to it. "Let yourself in."

"Thanks." Garth entered the house.

Alex took a few more shots, then grew bored when they stopped going in. She tossed the ball off to the side and wandered off into the salvage yard in hopes of finding something marginally more interesting to do. She turned down the wide isle and kicked at a spare bolt lying in the dirt.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her around the throat. Alex panicked. She struggled, but nothing happened. Thinking fast, she went limp, trying to fall to the ground. She could feel her assailant struggle to keep her on her feet. Alex lashed out, kicking backwards, hitting him in the groin. She heard him gasp, and he loosened his grip. Alex broke free and stepped away, turning to face her opponent. She relaxed. "What the hell?"

"Bobby wasn't in the house," Garth breathed, leaning up against a car.

"So you attacked me?" Alex wanted to punch him in the face.

"I didn't think you could fight."

"So you attacked me?" Alex repeated. She kicked him in the gut.

"Whoa whoa whoa." Alex turned at Bobby's voice. "The hell are you doing? Stop beating up other hunters."

"He attacked me first." Alex defended herself, crossing her arms petulantly. "What was I suppose to do?"

"Bobby." Garth pulled himself to his feet. "Good to see you. I was just seeing if she could defend herself, you know, living here and all."

"Yeah," Alex huffed. "Thanks for that."

Bobby looked between Alex and Garth, shaking his head. "How are you still alive," he muttered under his breath before turning back to Alex. "Thanks. You can go now. I'll take care of this." Alex huffed again, but stalked off. She followed the path that led behind the garage far into the back woods, hopping the rickety fence that divided Bobby's land from an undeveloped property. She pulled herself up into a thick oak tree, leaning back, looking around. She climbed higher until the tree dipped and swayed with wind.

She had just closed her eyes when heard a noise below her. She opened one eye and looked around before scrambling down the trunk.

Below her, she caught glimpse of a tawny creature. At first, she assumed it to be a deer, but when it reappeared, she jumped from the branches. It was a dog, a stray, by the lack of a collar. Alex knelt down. The dog eyed her closely, tail wagging slowly back and forth. Alex clicked her tongue, holding out her hand. The dog approached, sniffing it, tail speeding up as it disrupted the bushes beside it. A tongue darted out, and Alex laughed quietly. The dog nudged her hand with his head, and Alex scratched him behind his dark brown ears. "Hey, buddy." she smiled. "You're friendly. Are you lost?" The dog stepped forward, pressing his head into her stomach, leaning into her. Alex laughed again. "Good boy," she praised, looking about in hopes of seeing the creature's owner.

"Alex?" Alex looked up at the sound of Bobby's voice.

"Coming!" She called, standing up. She ran off towards the fence, jumping over it. She heard footfalls behind her, and turned to see the dog easily clear the wooden fence, muscles stretching and contracting under its thin pelt. She grinned at it's agility.

"What the hell?" Bobby caught sight of Alex and the dog.

"Hm?" Alex glanced behind her to see the creature quickly approaching. "He's been following me. Can I keep him?"

"Course not," Bobby snorted. "We don't need another stray." He studied the dog, which looked him happily, tongue lolling out to one side. "Are you sure he's not someone's already?"

"I'm not sure," Alex admitted. "I hope not."

"Why don't you bring him to Craig. He might know. He lives in that house over there." Bobby pointed off to his left. "If he doesn't know who he belongs to, then maybe you can have him. Maybe."

"Thanks Bobby." Alex gave him a quick hug before tearing off across the yard, the dog at her heels. Bobby watched them go, a small smile across his face. "I said maybe!" he called after her.

...

Alex made her way up to the front door of the neighbor's house. The dog who had so faithfully followed her down the road and up the driveway disappeared around the side of the house, and Alex leaned over the rail to see where it was going. She whistled, hoping to draw it back to her, and the dog's head snapped up, tail wagging. The door opened, and Alex turned to see a middle aged man step out onto the porch. "Can I hep you?" he asked, brown eyes sweeping across Alex in confusion.

"Uh, hi." Alex smiled. A small dog suddenly bolted out the door and down into the yard. The stray came out to meet it, tail swinging back and forth.

"Who's this?" The man went down the stairs to greet the dog, all attention towards Alex lost.

The young girl shrugged and followed him down to the lawn. "I don't know," she admitted. "I just found him. My name's Alex. I'm living next door." She pointed vaguely towards Bobby's property. "At the Singer Salvage Yard?"

"With Bobby?" The man's lips twisted into a small frown at the thought before his face brightened once again. "Ah, yes, I've heard about you. You're Bobby's girl."

Bobby's girl? Alex blinked in surprise. "I'm not actually his girl . . ."

"No, no, of course not." The man scratched the dog's ears then straightened up. "We're a pretty close knit neighborhood on this side of the city, so word gets around pretty fast." He held out a large hand. "My name is Craig Vongrey, local veterinarian."

"Hm. Nice you meet you." Alex shook his hand. The smaller dog abandoned the larger mutt and ran up to her, and she knelt down to meet it.

"That's Mesha," Craig added, sitting down on the front step.

"She's really pretty." Alex stroked the small dog's long tawny fur as the creature ran in energetic circles around her. "What's her breed?"

"She's a shih-tzu yorkie mix," Craig said, cutting off when the mutt walked by. "And what about this guy?"

"I'm not sure." Alex studied the dog with a small shrug. "He looks like a pit mix. Maybe shepherd pit?"

"That's what I was thinking too." Mr. Vongrey's eyes met hers. "Very good."

"Thank you." Alex blushed slightly. "I'm pretty good with dog breeds."

"Ah. So what brings you around?"

"Well, I wanted to keep him," Alex said quietly. "He doesn't have a collar, so I figured he was a stray, but he's really friendly, so I don't know."

"Hm. Well, he doesn't belong to anyone around here," Craig informed her. "I've seen him around a few times. But he's never come up to me." The dog let out a yawn, walking over to Alex. He rested his head on her knee, and Alex stroked his ears. Craig laughed. "But he likes you. Why don't you bring him down to my office tomorrow morning. We'll give him a good check up, make sure he's healthy." He reached over, running his hand over the dog's haunches. The dog wagged its tail even faster, and his chocolate eyes closed.

"Really?" Alex looked excited, but paused. "How much will it cost?" she asked quietly. "I'm not sure I have enough saved."

Craig looked over at her, sympathy in his eyes. "That's fine. You can help out around the clinic to pay it off if you want."

"Uh, yeah," Alex smiled. "That would be fine. Oh, I'm also working at Charlie's Antiques, so . . ."

"That's no problem. We can work around that." Craig smiled, and the dog rolled onto its stomach. "Oh, you'll probably want a collar and leash for this boy." He stood up. "Come on inside."

Alex stood up and followed him inside. "Nice," Alex nodded appreciatively. "It's like Bobby's. Except cleaner." The mutt ran into the house, sniffing around.

"Thank you." He lead them farther into the house. "If you don't mind me saying so, I don't think any house is worse than Bobby's."

"Yeah. It's not that bad," Alex defended him. "It . . . has it's good sides. Sometimes."

Craig laughed. "I'm sure it does. Here." He held up a large brown collar. "It should fit." He called the dog over, and put it on. "And a leash." He clicked it on to the collar and handed the worn red handle to Alex.

"Thank you," Alex smiled.

"No problem." Craig walked her to the door. "See you tomorrow. Oh, and if Bobby decides he doesn't want the dog; I'll take him." He winked.

Alex laughed. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. Thank you." Alex waved goodbye and walked back to Bobby's.

...

"Damn," Bobby cursed, seeing Alex with the dog. "I was sure it was domesticated." He pulled the hubcap off of a car and let it roll away.

Alex shrugged, somewhat smug. "Guess not. He's mine now. Hope you like dogs, Singer."

"Hold on," the older hunter protested, crossing his arms. "I said maybe. Maybe you can keep him. I didn't make any promises."

Alex rolled her eyes. "Too late," she said light heartedly. "You'll warm up to him. How could you not?" She scratched the dog's ears, and he leaned against her leg.

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Just keep him out of trouble. And he doesn't get to go in the house." With that, Bobby headed off towards the garage. Alex smiled and took the dog directly into the house.

She let him off the leash, watching him run around, smelling everything. Alex laughed. "Good boy. What's your name, eh?" She studied him. The dog trotted over to her, leaning into her. "Your so cuddly," she joked. "Like a teddy bear."

The dog perked up, wagging its tail.

"Teddy? Bear?" Alex asked. The dog opened its mouth, its long pink tongue rolling out. "Bear, eh? Okay. Bear it is." With a chuckle she added, "I have a feeling Bobby's going to like you."

...

Yes, I added a dog. I like dogs. I put a link to a picture of him (he's actually my dog) in my profile.