Everyone was silent, back in the car. They'd been headed to Junction City, Kansas, to follow up on a job a goofy hunter, Garth, had started.

They'd all taken shifts driving, as Dean insisted that they drive through the night. Likely because he didn't want to deal with a motel situation. Melody didn't care to, either.

About an hour out, Blair pulled off into a gas station. "Want anything to eat while we're in here," Sam turned around and asked. Dean and Melody both shook their heads in response. "You two have been quiet for most of this trip. Everything okay?"

"Peachy," they said in unison.

Sam raised an eyebrow, but didn't push the issue any further. He closed the door, following behind Blair into the store.

Melody let out an exasperated sigh, halfway hoping Dean would say something. Of course, though, he didn't. "How long are you gonna keep this up?" His only response was a scoff. "Dean, seriously? What's the problem?"

"You're kidding right," he chuckled dryly. "I went to kiss you, and you jumped out of the bed. A simple 'no' would have sufficed."

"Dean, I'm sorry," she reached across the seat and placed a hand on his. "I freaked out. The way I reacted was...excessive."

Dean moved his hand from under hers, running it through his hair. "Mel, you looked at me like I had three heads."

He was right. She probably could have done without the theatrics, but she panicked. Dean leaning in triggered her fight or flight reflex. "Dean, it wasn't like what you think." She looked over his shoulder to see Blair and Sam walking back towards the car. "Can we actually talk about this later?"

Huffing, he agreed. "Let's just get through this crap with Garth. No telling what he's gotten into."

Being that Sam and Dean already knew Garth, they went to the morgue to meet with the man, while Blair and Melody went to question the victims' dad.

After getting word that it didn't seem like much for an animal attack, the girls made their way inside the brewery where the victim worked. Marie, the manager, and Mr. McAnn's daughter, greeted them at the door. "Thanks for coming in on a Sunday, Marie," Blair beamed her friendly grin. "All of this belongs to your dad, right?"

She nodded. "And his friend, Randy Baxter," she added. "They own the place together, now."

"Now?" Melody chimed in from beside Blair.

"Well, since Dale died." Marie frowned slightly, looking over to the office where an employee was getting lectured about being late. "The charming Randy Baxter," she said quietly to the posing FBI agents. "He's actually a really nice guy. It's just not easy being the axe man."

They both murmured their understanding. "We've got a few questions for your father, if you'll excuse us," Blair grinned yet again, as they parted ways.

"Mr. McAnn," Melody greets as they walk into his office at Midwestern Brewery. "I'm Agent Fields, this is my partner Agent Makenna," she informed him. Her demeanor was a lot less sunny than that of her friend. "I promise we'll keep this brief." Mr. Jim McAnn nodded, with a sigh. Likely knowing already what they were there for. "Is there any reason to believe your son may have had enemies?"

"They said this was an animal attack," he narrowed his eyes, tilting his head a bit to the side.

Blair nodded, with yet another smile. "We're just trying to cover all of our bases here."

"I-I, no, I-," Jim stammered, trying to get ahold of himself.

Randy, who was still in the office as well, spoke up from where he was standing. "Let him get some rest, I'll answer any of your questions." Jim left, leaving the three standing there.

Once they got the answers they needed, they headed back to Garth's motel room to regroup. "No enemies, Randy has no kids of his own, just the godfather to Jim's kids, their third business partner, Dale, died a few months back—suicide—, and Dale's wife is suing the company," Melody recapped. "Jim felt guilty when Dale died. Felt like he could've helped him somehow."

Sam was sitting at his computer, trying to narrow down any number of things they could be dealing with. "There's hundreds of things with claws that go bump in the night," he spoke to no one in particular. "Once you throw in the word invisible, though, the numbers start to go down."

Dean was sitting on the couch, sifting through Bobby's journals. Giving his eyes a rest, he turned to look at the hotel information pamphlet, shaking his head. "Afternoon delights," he read aloud. "Garth, don't you think this place is a little..."

"Hey, after a long day at the office, you want a nice hot tub," he shrugged, shoving a screwdriver into an EMF reader in an attempt to fix what he thought was broken.

"He's not wrong," Melody agreed, thumbing through a different journal. She would eventually get through all of these, and get them in some sort of order. "There's never a bad time for a hot tub."

Garth paused what he was doing, looking directly at Melody with a look as flirty as he could manage. "We could definitely test that out." He was such an adorably goofy looking fellow. His confident voice betrayed his bashful demeanor. She had to give him credit for even the attempt.

Dean started to speak as soon as the words left Garth's mouth, but Sam cut him off. "Bad idea, Garth," Sam chuckled. "Mel's a handful."

"Tell me how you really feel, Sammy Boo," Melody feigned offense. It had been a running joke since their last night in Florida, and Sam despised it.

"Good thing I've got big hands," he winked at Melody. He wiggled his eyebrows in such a way, that Melody couldn't stifle the giggle that rose in her chest.

Dean cleared his throat, leaning forward a bit. "Garth, unless you'd like your insides on your outside, I'd stop while you're ahead." His hands were clasped together so tight that his knuckles were turning white.

Garth but his hands up in defense. "Sorry, I didn't know you two were-,"

"We're not," they said at once, returning to their journals.

Sam looked around the room with pursed lips, before speaking. "Back on the subject of work," he said, hoping to turn the attention back to the case. "It says here that Dale wasn't just a partner, but also the brewmaster. He widely considered a genius."

Dean got to his feet, shaking his head in disbelief. "No microbrew is worth, what, eight food magazine awards?" He grabbed one of the beers from the brewery out of the fridge. "Beer's not food. It's whatever water is."

Garth's EMF was warbling, but Melody chalked it up to him not knowing what he was doing with the thing. Though, it did peak her interest, as she noticed it went off as soon as Dean sat Bobby's flask near it.

Dean twisted the cap off, taking a sip. He looked at the bottle, slightly impressed. "Wow, that's actually pretty awesome," he noted. "Damn it, I'm not even mad anymore."

In what everyone else in the room considered to be an attempt to woo Melody, Garth chugged a bottle down himself. Granted, she was impressed. "Damn, Garth," she laughed.

"Y'know, I don't even usually drink beer," he hiccuped. "It messes with my depth perception. Especially when I skinny dip." Everyone in the room looked at each other in amusement. "Hey, you guys wanna hear a joke?" He started giggling to himself

Blair pushed off of the counter she'd perched on, going to grab another of Bobby's journals. "Garth, are you drunk," she mused.

"I dunno, are you two hot," he asked, pointing to Melody and Blair. He turned his head to Sam and whispered, "The answer is yes."

Sam's face flattened in annoyance, shaking his head. It was less funny when his girlfriend was on the receiving end of the flirt. Both Melody and Blair found Garth's comment rather funny and endearing, but neither Sam, nor Dean, did. "Anywho," Sam shook his head. "This article says that Dale actually left the company two weeks before he died."

"Can I have some more beer?" Garth slurred from his seat.

"No," Melody laughed. "Coffee for you, Tara Reid. Sam, continue."

Sam nodded, trying to recollect his thoughts. "Well, what if he didn't leave on his own accord, but was really pushed out? It says that Dale didn't want to sell, but Baxter told Melody and Blair that the plans been in motion for months."

"That would explain the widow suing," Blair agreed. "Maybe Dale had a bone to pick and he's still picking it."

Garth, who'd managed to stay quiet for all of forty five seconds, spoke again. "Right, so maybe he's a spirito malo."

Dean let out a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. "I'm going to punch him in the face, Sam," he groaned, shaking his head.

The police scanner buzzed, catching the attention of all five hunters in the room. Unit to McAnn residence, 698 Washburn.

"McAnn as in Jim McAnn?" Dean raised an eyebrow.

"Let's roll out," Garth ordered. He went to stand to his feet, but immediately face planted on the ground.

Melody shook her head, knowing good and well Garth was far too intoxicated to go anywhere. "You'll be staying here," she informed him tucking her phone into her back pocket. "You two wanna go check with the widow and see if Sam's theory matches up?" She asked Blair and Sam. If they went that route, it'd give her a chance to hash things out with Dean.

Dean himself looked unsure, knowing that a conversation he wasn't prepared for was coming his way, but he didn't object.

They parted ways, heading to separate parts of town. The Impala was deathly quiet for the first portion of the ride. Until Dean broke it, that was. "So, what is it?"

Melody wasn't sure what to say, despite having thought about it all day. She didn't want to not kiss him, but also, kissing him seemed like a terrible idea. Not because of Dean himself, but because he had a bad history of running away when things are going good. "What were you expecting to happen," she asked, finally. "Despite everything, did it just seem like a fun idea to you? You said it yourself, it's what you should have done sixteen years ago. We were kids then. If you'd called me back then, and at least explained where your head was at, this might be a completely different conversation. I mean, hell, the last time we kissed you disappeared off the face of the planet."

Dean's face revealed nothing, but he was inwardly amused. "Are you finished?" When she didn't speak, he continued. "Mel, I was seventeen years old," he told her, as if she'd had no idea. "I ran from any and everything that resembled human emotion. That doesn't mean I don't care about you, or that I ever stopped caring about you. I almost lost my mind when I thought you'd gotten killed by those Amazon bitches."

"That doesn't answer my question, Dean," she informed him, picking anxiously at her nails. "What was going through your head? I'm all for having some fun every once in a while to blow off some steam. But I can't be that person for you. It would get too complicated too fast."

"What if I don't want something that's just for fun," he asked, keeping his eyes planted on the road.

Melody hadn't given much thought to what any kind of relationship with Dean would look like. At least, not in a very long time, she hadn't. Why would anything be different now?

"Dean," she sighed, not sure what to even say.

He turned to look at her. His expression was one of intense sincerity. "You don't think I'm capable," he realized. He be lying if he said that didn't sting a bit, but it was also understandable. "Look, one way or the other, we're going to be on the road together. Let's just..." he paused, trying to find the right words. "Let's just start over, and see where things go. Okay?"

Melody was hesitant. Not so much because of Dean and the possibility of not walking around on eggshells, but more with the fear that any day now he'd leave again if she let him in. "Okay," she agreed, after a bit.

The brunette's phone started buzzing rapidly in her back pocket. Dean didn't bother to hide the curious look on his face as she answered.

"Hey...you," she hums awkwardly. There she was, having a rather serious conversation with Dean about the possibility of a relationship, and Clark calls her.

As per usual, he sounded ecstatic to hear from her. He was such a genuine guy, and in another life, he would have very likely been the perfect man for her. "Hey, beautiful," his voice was sing-songy. Melody could tell by the way he was talking that he was smiling. "I wanted to call yesterday, but I figured you'd be busy getting ready to leave the beach."

She gave a sideways glance at Dean, who was obviously going to ask who she was talking to. "That's me, busy busy," she chuckled half-heartedly. "I'm, um, actually right in the middle of something. Can I call you back?"

"Yeah, of course," he sounded a bit disappointed. "Call me whenever you're free. No biggie."

Melody ended the call. She shifted in her seat, pretending not to notice Dean's gaze burning into her. "Who was it," he asked. Though, he had a fairly good idea of who it was.

"Clark," she answered shortly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

Dean didn't respond. In fact, he stayed quiet for the rest of the ride to the McAnn's house. He couldn't imagine why she'd answer the phone, or even why she gave him her number in the first place. Now wasn't a time for him to throw a tantrum, though, and he knew that.

They pulled onto the side of the road in front of a suburban style house with a clean cut yard and a full flower bed. This was the ideal house for a white picket fence family.

"EMF is a nada," Melody murmured. "Are we still thinking invisible werewolf?"

Dean shrugged, looking around at the foyer they were standing in. "Maybe, maybe not. I can't get Tess to talk." He looked over to the little blonde girl, who appeared scared out of her mind.

She'd seen something, without a doubt. But why could she see it, and nobody else could? "Let me have a go," Melody offered. "You know, maternal instinct and all."

Dean followed behind Melody, and no sooner than Tess spotted her, she seemed to relax a bit. "Mr. McAnn, would you mind if we spoke to Tess here alone for a second," she asked, offering a kind smile to the little girl. "It'd really help."

Rightfully so, Jim seemed nervous to leave his granddaughter alone, even if it was in the presence of two FBI agents. "I-I suppose," he agreed. He turned back to Tess and planted a kiss on the top of her head. "We'll be right out there, okay?"

Silent, still, Tess nodded. Melody took a seat on the coffee table in front of her, waiting for Jim to leave the room. "Hey, Tess," Melody's voice was much sweeter than usual. The normal rough edges of her tone were smooth, and her eyes seemed a bit lighter. "I'm sure today was scary for you, huh?" Tess nodded, looking down at her hands in her lap. "Can I tell you a secret?" The question peaked Tess' interest, causing her to nod her head again. "Being scared, actually makes you stronger."

Tess looked back down at her hands, before looking up yet again. "Really?" Her voice was small. She was still nervous.

"Really," Melody confirmed. "See, I lost my dad not too long ago. I was scared at first, too. But my friend promised me that he was going to stop the thing that did it, but he needed my help. I'm going to be your friend and make you the same promise, but I need your help. All I need from you, is for you to tell me what you saw."

"You won't believe me," she mumbled.

Melody held up her pinky finger to the girl. "Pinky promise, I'll believe you."

She was still hesitant, but after a moment she complied, linking her own pinky with Melody's. "It was a monster," she gulped. "It had these scary claws."

"How come you were the only one that could see it, Tess?" Dean chimed in from the side.

Tess shrugged, but Melody wasn't completely convinced that she didn't know. "What else can you tell me, Tess?" Another shrug. "You sure you don't know? Would you pinky promise on that, too?" She held her pinky out to the young girl

If the moment weren't so endearing, Dean might've gotten completely frustrated. Though, seeing Melody with kids was completely new to him. She was a natural. He found himself wondering if she'd ever considered having any of her own, but the thought was quickly silenced, as Tess started to speak again.

"I drank a grown-up drink," she blurted.

Melody and Dean exchanged intrigued looks. "Grown up, like, coffee?" Dean inquired. Tess shook her head. It was so small it was almost like a twitch as opposed to an answer to his question. "You mean alcohol?"

"It was an accident," she cried. Her face was flushed with fear. She looked right ahead at Melody. "Please don't arrest me."

Melody smiled quaintly at the young girl. "Your secrets safe with me," she promised her.

"So, a monster you have to be drunk to see," Melody concluded, once they were in the car. "Cool, but gotta be hard to fight."

Dean took a swig from the flask of Bobby's. "Just getting in the zone," he shrugged, when Melody looked over to him from the drivers seat. "You're strictly on whine coolers."

"Yeah, yeah," she laughed. "Jokes on you, though, I love those."

Dean was in the midst of another drink, when his phone started to ring. "Must be my girlfriend," he muttered, and Melody was well aware that he was throwing shots her way. He flipped the phone open. "Hey, Sam," he clarified to Melody that it was his brother. "Yeah, got it, we're on our way." He closed the phone back. "Need to go to the brewery," he told her. "Apparently Dale left his business partners a gift. Sam thinks it might be the answer to all of this."

They drove to the brewery where Sam and Blair were. "Sam and I are gonna check it out," Dean told the group. "You two keep an eye out?"

"For an invisible monster, got it," Blair nodded sarcastically.

Melody pulled out two wine coolers from the back seat of the Impala. "Won't be invisible if we're drunk." She grinned at her friend.

Sam and Dean were inside the brewery for some time, while Blair and Melody worked on a 12 pack of Seagrams. "Shit, did somebody just walk in," Melody focused on the front door that did in fact look like someone had walked through it. "Call Sam, hurry,"

"Sam forgot his phone at the Motel, but didn't think anything of it because I had mine," she rambled. "Call Dean!"

Melody pulled her phone out of the center console and quickly entered Dean's number. Vibrations came from the floorboard, and both girls facepalmed themselves. "These idiots," Melody groaned. "B, do you have your taser on you?" Blair pulled the compact from her belt, nodding. "Let's go save the Winchesters' asses."

They left the Impala and dashed through the brewery doors. Melody led Blair to the back, where the office was. Upon approaching, they could hear Sam's voice. "Mr. Baxter, listen," he was trying to recover from this setback. "If you just let us explain-,"

"Save it for the cops," he said, dialing on his phone.

"Crank it up," Melody whispered to Blair, who nodded.

Quietly, but also with urgency, Blair crept behind Randy and stuck the taser in his neck. His body convulsed a bit, before dropping to the ground, revealing the girls standing there.

911, what's your emergency? Randy must have just pressed the call button when he went down.

Melody held Dean's phone up with a look of annoyance, before tossing it over to him. Oops. He mouthed.

"You voluntarily took Japanese in college?" Dean's face was contorted in disgust. "Who does that?"

Studying the box, Blair was oblivious to the revulsion from Dean. "Seems to be coming in handy today, yeah," she countered. "It's been awhile, but I'm almost positive it says "what you took will be taken from you". Like an eye for an eye." She kept reading, finally putting the puzzle together. "It's an alcohol spirit, referred to as a Shojo."

"Dale really was after revenge," Sam concluded, scrolling through lore. "Dale's wife said the company was his baby. So if he really wanted them to feel what he felt, he'd take theirs—well, Jim's. The good news is, it's killable. But...only with a samurai sword consecrated with a Shinto blessing."

Of course, Garth being Garth, had a katana in his trunk. Blair looked up a Shinto blessing, and rambled it off as Dean pored a stream of water from a plastic bottle over it.

"Now what?" Melody asked, looking around.

"Now, Sam's and I are going to follow Marie," Dean responded. "You two babysit that baby," he pointed to Garth, "and Mr. Baxter." The girls looked over their shoulders to see the older man with a burlap sack over his head.

Garth was prowling back and forth in front of the empty jacuzzi that they'd handcuffed Randy to the rail of.

The moment the Winchesters walked out of the room, Garth pulled the bag from the man's head. "We're trying to help you, Mr. Baxter." Melody considered telling him to shut up, but why not see where this goes. "See, I'm confused about one thing. Dale was set to get you all where it hurts. Your kids. But, you don't have any."

"I-i-it still affects me, believe me," Randy stammered.

Garth wasn't buying it, though. "You want to tell me what you're hiding?" Melody was impressed, really. Garth was acting like a bit of a badass. "Tell me this. When was the last time you gave an employee three chances?" Melody had no idea why, in the summation of the entire day, that was a piece that stuck in Garth's head, but she was interested in seeing where he was going with this.

"Probably never," Randy responded.

"Exactly, you're the axeman," Garth pointed out. "So, how come you cut that slacker janitor, Lee, so many breaks?" Randy stammered a bit, but Garth carried on with his point. "Well, I Googled. Come to find, his mother was your secretary back in the day. Of course, you were married, so there's no way anything naughty happened there, right?"

Melody and Blair's mouths both fell, realizing exactly where Garth was going with all of this. Jim wasn't the only one with kids in the equation. "Things didn't end well with his mother," Randy sighed, coming clean. "She made me promise not to tell."