"This is Clay Donovan—"

Katherine hangs up and tosses her phone onto the bed. She sighs, spreading her knees, and rests her head in her hands.

"Can't sleep?" She looks up. Dean leans against the doorway of the connecting motel rooms, two beer bottles in his hand. Katherine shakes her head, then she gives him a wry look.

"It's four AM and you're already drinking?"

"Mind if I come in?"

Katherine sighs, leaning back in her chair. "Sure." Dean pushes himself up from the frame, shuts the door, and strides over to her, setting one of the two bottles before her. "I hope you took me to Bora Bora."

"Huh?"

"Earlier today, when we were hunting Ghostie McGee, you told Neighbor Joe we'd just gotten back from our honeymoon. I hope you took me to Bora Bora."

Dean laughs a little. "What's that you're listening to?" He asks after a moment. 

"Neon Moon," she replies, reaching for a bottle of Michelob. "The antithesis of your style."

Dean chuckles. "Brooks & Dunn can be cool." Katherine makes a noise of appreciation. 

"You aren't a five-cassette wonder," she muses. A fond smile tugs at the corner of her full lips, and that apostrophe appears again. Dean leans over and kisses her right over the little indentation, his fingers barely hooking with hers. "My mom would teach me how to dance when I was little," Katherine tells him. "We'd spend hours in the living room...I'd try to mimic her the best I could. She was a good dancer."

"You danced to this?" Dean asks, gesturing to the radio. Katherine nods, her teeth catching her lower lip as she smiles. "Teach me." He stands up, pulling Katherine with him, and the young woman laughs.

"Dean Winchester wants to learn to dance?"

"'Course I do." He leans over and starts the song over before he turns back to her with a smile. 

"All right, well...I'll teach you the cowboy cha-cha, I guess." She turns her back to him and wiggles her left hand. "Come stand here...right arm over my shoulders...now hold my hands." Dean wags his eyebrows at her, grabbing her hands and she grins, wiggling her fingers. "Ease up. You're wooing a lady, not breaking a monster's hand."

"Oh. Sorry."

Katherine smiles, deepening her dimple, and adjusts his hand to hover beneath hers, their fingertips just barely hooked. "Okay, the main thing to remember is your arm. You don't wanna crush the lady, that's not cool." Dean lifts his elbow off of her shoulders, and Katherine nods. "So we cha-cha with the left. Onetwothree, rock, step back." She looks down at his feet and grins. "Heeeyy...you can listen to directions." Dean sticks the tip of his tongue out at her. "Okay, so cha-cha back with your right, rock on left, step. Good. Now we're gonna go sideways."

"Aw, shit."

"This is gonna get tricky." He nods. "But it's the same thing, you're just adding some turns." Katherine raises her eyebrow at him, and his eyes are glued to hers without even trying to resist. It's one of the few times he's been serious. "I think you're rather capable."

Katherine helps him enough through the motions, smiling and nodding as Dean smoothly transitions between directions, even spinning around rather perfectly, but then he steps on her foot. She doesn't forget about it. "Turn—carefully, carefully, care-full-ee—"

"You don't have much faith in me, do you?" He asks with a smirk, following her instructions to a tee, and watches her left socked foot slide out before her. 

She smiles after a moment. "Run through it again?"

Dean shakes his head. "I think I got it." Katherine raises her eyebrows and shrugs.

"Fine by me." She reaches over and starts her music again; they wait the first three seconds and before starting their dance. She was expecting to move slowly, but Dean moves to the pace of the music, surprising her. She lets out a pleased laugh and they run through the moves again and again and again, until the beginning of turning the corner, Dean doesn't move. She looks up at him, a little puzzled, and holds her breath when she finds he's leaning quite close to her. A small smile tugs at Katherine's lips, his nose trailing from her hair and across her temple. As Dean nears her mouth, his lips pressing soft, warm kisses to her cheek, she tilts her chin up to meet him halfway there. Then her arms are around his neck, and he's pulling her legs around his hips. 

"You're smooth, I'll give you that," she murmurs, resting her forehead against his. "Left me under the impression you didn't know how to dance at all." 

Dean shrugs a little. "It just so happens that I have a little bit of rhythm."

"Is that right," Katherine hums. "What else can you do?"

"Whatever you want." 

They stare at each other for a few moments, letting their heartbeats fill the silence.  "There was a really fun bar at Yale that Soph and I would go to all the time. We knew the bouncer pretty well, so Id' get snuck in and we'd go line dancing, enter ourselves in competitions..."

"And then I showed up," Dean murmurs. She smiles.

"And then you showed up." Katherine kisses him once more before dropping to her feet. "I don't know why you say it like it's such an awful thing." She turns the radio off. "After all, you did say that you saved me from a boring existence."

"But you're the one who said you occasionally miss 'boring.'"

"Yeah, well." She reaches over and loops her fingers into the waistband of his pants, earning a questioning expression from him. "I'd miss you a whole lot more." She tugs him over to the bed, her hand slipping down to his.

"You haven't heard from your dad yet, have you?"

"No." She purses her lips.

"Sam said you hadn't seen him for a year when he went missing."

Katherine nods. "Yeah, we...didn't really part on good terms. He's kind of a dick, and...he's been a deadbeat for a while." She twists her fingers. "It's strange to me that you blame yourself for taking me away from this life you thought was perfect. I was going to leave soon anyway. To find him."

"Even though he's a dick?"

She nods once. "Even though he's a dick."

"Why jeopardize your future for him then?"

Katherine sighs shortly. "'Cause he's family. No matter how much I hate him, he's still my dad, y'know? And I hate to admit it, but...I'm kind of losing hope." 

"Well don't do that," Dean hums, reaching over to touch her cheek. "Never lose hope." With a soft smile, she tilts her head so as to press a light kiss to the heel of his palm, and she scoots closer to him. Nestled into his side, her hand resting in the center of his torso, she starts their quirky little tradition.

"Pancakes or waffles?"

✕

"Who knew I'd find a couple of plumbers so hot?"

"We're alarm technicians," Dean corrects, holding a finger up to her.

"Same thing." Katherine glances around the apartment, flicking the cut chain on the door, and turns away from it. "So everything was locked? No sign of a break-in?"

"Nada," Dean answers. "Everything was perfect, apparently, except the girl who lived here—Meredith."

Katherine raises a brow. "What was wrong with Meredith?"

"Instead of being one piece, she was...many...everywhere." Katherine makes a face, pulling her EMF detector from her inner jacket pocket, and switches it on.

"So the killer walks in and out of the apartment without breaking anything or tripping the alarm. No prints, weapons, nothing..." Katherine turns in a circle, staring down at the reader.

"I'm telling you," Sam says, pulling himself to his full height from the floor. "The minute I found that article, I knew this was our kind of gig."

Katherine smirks. "Anything that involves you in costumes is our kind of gig." She gives him a slap on the rear and Sam's eyes nearly pop out of his head as she laughs. "Seriously, you do squats or somethin' when no one's looking?" She glances back down to her meter. "EMF is going nuts." She shuts the reader off and tucks it into her jacket pocket, leaving the suit jacket unbuttoned. 

"You talked to the police?" Dean asks her, ignoring the rear-slapping.

"Yeah. They don't know anything we don't. Oh, except one thing." The Winchesters turn their gazes to her. "Meredith's heart was missing." Katherine ruffles her hair from the tight bun she pulled it into and opts for a loose ponytail at the back of her head. "So what do you think did it to her?"

"The landlady said it looked like an animal attack."

"Werewolf?" Katherine suggests, glancing to the bloodied floor.

"Lunar cycle's not right," Sam says, shaking his head. "And if it was some kind of creature, it would've left some kind of trace. It was probably a spirit."

"Agent Blythe?" Dean asks, staring down at the blood-spattered rug. 

She blinks a few times. "Dean," she responds. Her statement is slightly intoned with questioning.

"Can you see if I got any masking tape in that toolbox?" The young woman rolls her eyes and carefully crouches before one of the two toolboxes brought by the boys. She tosses a roll to Dean and watches him go to work on the rug. 

"Have you ever seen that symbol before?" Katherine asks. It's a circle with two opposite-facing arms, one curving up and the other down, connected by the spatters of blood staining the material.

"Never."

Katherine sighs. "Then I'll get to work." She claps the boys on their backs and heads for the door. 

She spends hours at the library before meeting up with the boys at a local bar.

"I talked to the bartender," Dean begins, planting himself in front of Sam and Katherine. 

"You get anything?" Katherine asks, tossing a french fry into her mouth. 

"Besides her number?" Sam tacks on, smirking a little.

"I am a professional. I'm offended that you would think that." Katherine's hard gaze has a hint of humor in it, but is unwavering. Dean cracks, holding up a napkin with a smile. "All right." Her eyes narrow. "What? I didn't ask for it, I swear!"

"Yeah right," she says, crossing her arms. Sam chuckles, shaking her head.

Dean sighs heavily. Obviously, his joke hadn't worked like he thought it would. "There's nothing to find out," he says. "Meredith worked here; she waited tables. Everyone here is her friend, everyone said she's normal. She didn't do or say anything weird before she died." Dean steals one of Katherine's french fries. "What about that symbol? You two geeks find anything?"

"It's adorable you think the word 'geek' is still an insult," Katherine hums. "But no. I didn't." Her expression is disgruntled as she picks up another fry, but she doesn't eat it. 

"There was nothing in dad's journal or the usual books," Sam chimes in. "Guess we have to dig a little deeper."

"I went Mariana Trench deep," Katherine rebuts, brows furrowed. 

"Well there was another victim, right?" Dean asks. "Before Meredith?"

"Ben Swardstrom." Katherine unfolds a newspaper printout and places it in the middle of the brothers. 

"He looks like Charles Xavier," Dean mutters.

"Ben Swardstrom," Katherine repeats. Dean rolls his eyes. "Was found mutilated in his townhouse last month—same deal. The door was locked, alarm on."

"Any connection between the two?" Sam asks.

Katherine shakes her head. "Not as far as I can tell. Ben was a banker. They never met, never spoke—unless she was a, uh...lady of the night and nobody knew about it and Professor X isn't wheelchair-bound." Dean smirks and Katherine winks. "Kidding."

"You two are disgusting," Sam says, shaking his head.

"I was making a joke off of Dean's joke," Katherine protests. 

"So the only successful intel we've collected is the bartender's phone number," Sam almost scoffs.

"Sorry I couldn't be of more use," Katherine mutters. "If it helps any, the way guts were splattered across the rug in Meredith's apartment had to have been done by something pretty strong, but we already knew that." Sam gets up and starts away. Katherine blinks. "Dude."

"Sam?" Dean asks. The youngest Winchester doesn't turn. Dean swirls in his chair to face Katherine.

"He's your brother," she mutters, pulling her tray of garlic parmesan fries to her.

"Let me cop some."

"Get your own," she says. Dean's jaw slackens and he stares at her in a strange pouting disbelief. Katherine sighs and nudges the basket to the middle of the table. "First you steal my burgers and now you're stealing my fries. What's next?"

"I'll let you know when I do," Dean says. 

"So what's the deal with that bartender?" She asks, voice loaded with false curiosity. Her voice is a bit too high in pitch. And her flat expression doesn't help either, or her arms crossing. 

She's annoyed.

Dean lets out a heavy sigh. "Honestly," he says, not bothering to touch her. It would only earn him a punch to some body part. The face maybe, the balls most likely. "I didn't ask for it. I got our drinks and that was the top napkin. Swear it." He reaches over and tears the napkin. "Besides, I've already got a hot blonde. Why do I need another?"

"Well maybe you're in the mood for that," she says, picking up another fry. Dean's brow shoots up. "Absolutely not," she flatly tells him. Dean shrugs. Katherine picks up her fry basket and follows after Sam, and Dean after her.

Sam is talking to a petite blonde with a pixie cut. She could be a natural blonde, but all signs are pointing to bottle. 

"You're from Chicago?" Sam asks.

"No, Massachusetts," the girl answers. "Andover." 

Katherine clears her throat and tosses another fry into her mouth. Dean does the same. 

"Gosh, Sam," the girl continues, ignoring the other two. "What are the odds we'd run into each other?"

"Yeah, I know. I thought I'd never see you again." 

Dean clears his throat. "Dude," the girl says, turning her glare to the other hunters. "Cover your mouth."

Katherine raises a brow. It's usually a bit intimidating, but the girl isn't looking at her. "Meg, this is my brother Dean, this is Katherine." 

"Meg" looks to Katherine for the first time. Katherine's eyebrow is still raised, her expression stony. The Bitch Brow, the Brat Tamer, whatever you want to call it, the universe does not bestow this gift upon anyone who does not need to convey in a single gesture "keep sassing me and see what happens." 

Katherine is two remarks from a bar brawl, and Dean can't tell if he wants to goad her or not.

How in the hell does Sam know this girl, anyway?

"This is Dean," Meg says, less than impressed.

Dean feigns a grin. "So you've heard of me."

"Oh, yeah. Nice, the way you treat your brother like luggage." Dean's eyes flit to Sam and back to Meg. He's puzzled.

"Sorry?"

"Why don't you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God's green earth."

"Meg, it's all right," Sam says.

Katherine lets out a low whistle. "Awkward," she sings.

"And you must be the fem Dean incarnate," Meg sighs.

Katherine sucks in a short break, tilting her head to the side as her brows knit together. She chuckles, setting her food aside. "Sorry, I'm not sure what you mean by that," Katherine says, shrugging out of her jacket. "But, uh...just fair warning, I use knuckles, not claws." She flashes Meg a smile. 

Dean gently yanks her back. "Nice kitty," he says.

Meg smiles. "You're right. I'm sorry, I'm being rude." 

Katherine's stomach lurches...something isn't right about anything here. 

"Kat? Bar, now? Please?" Dean asks, tugging back on her shirt. Katherine follows him. "What the hell was that?"

"I don't know." She frowns. "It just—it came over me like a—like a wave or something." Katherine rubs the side of her head.

"Don't stop on my part," Dean scoffs. 

Katherine shakes her head. "I just...I got so angry, y'know..." She frowns, staring down at her coat. After a moment, she pulls it on. "I'm gonna go to the motel."

"You sure?"

Katherine nods. "Yeah, I'm beat. You stay here with Sam. Come to my room when you get back, if you want." Dean smirks and she chuckles, shaking her head, and stretches onto her toes to give him a quick parting kiss. He has other ideas, though, and snakes his hands onto her backside, holding her close for longer than she intended. "If Sam sees us like this, I'm not giving him that talk," she warns against Dean's lips.

"Yeah, go," he mutters, giving her a light slap. She grins, kissing him again, and lowers her heels to the ground.

It's a short and silent drive, filled with ponderous thoughts. What negative energy did she encounter in the bar? She'd certainly never say that to a perfect stranger. A line was crossed, sure, but it took a bit more than an ill-placed comment to set her temper off and get her guard up.

Katherine braids back her wet hair, including her bangs. She sets her necklaces on the counter and remembers she hasn't yet given Sam his necklace.

She locates the other black box in her bag and catches sight of the motel stationary. She grins wickedly and sits down at the desk before grabbing the pen and writing on the sheet of paper she tore from the pad. She sets it on one of the two beds in the other room and moves to her own room, leaving the door open. 

Katherine falls asleep surprisingly quickly.

"I think there's something strange going on here, Dean," Sam mutters.

"Tell me about it," Dean says, twisting the motel key in the deadbolt. "You see the way Kat flipped? She said there was some weird energy there or something."

"No—I met Meg weeks ago, in Burkittsville, on the side of a road. Literally. And now I run into her in some random bar in Chicago? I mean, the same bar where a slaughtered waitress worked? Don't you think that's a little strange?"

"Random coincidence. It happens," Dean says, twisting the doorknob, and steps into the dark motel. Only one light is on in either room—both of the sources are bedside lamps. 

"Yeah it happens, but not to us," Sam continues.

"Shh," Dean hisses. "I think Kat's asleep."

"Look, I could be wrong," Sam barrels on, quieter this time as he glances to the doorway. "I'm just saying, there's something about this girl that I can't put my finger on." Sam huffs. "Look, see if you can find anything on that symbol."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm going to watch Meg." Dean smirks, and Sam grimaces. "Stop that."

"Whatever, dude." Dean shrugs out of his jacket after handing Sam the keys, and moves for his bed. "Yo, Sammy?"

"What?"

"You got somethin' on your bed."

Sam frowns and moves to the mattress on the other side of the room. He picks up the note first. It's written a familiar elegant print on the motel stationary.

Sam, the silver lining in my cloudy disposition, the sauce on my spaghetti,

I've wanted to put my feelings down on paper since that restaurant in Missouri.

Take this as a token of my undying love for you. 

P.S. your ass is the best.

There's a lipstick print in the shape of Katherine's mouth in the center of a page. Sam lets out a laugh and reads the last line at the bottom of the page.

Admit it, your life would suck balls without me.

Sam passes the note to Dean with a chuckle and picks up the black box before flicking the top open. "Oh, sweet," he murmurs, picking the pendant up. Dean lets out a laugh, setting the note down on the nightstand.

"She has to be grandiose about everything, doesn't she?" Dean sighs. "What is it?"

"I asked her about the pendants on her necklace once, a while ago," Sam says. 

"Yeah, she said she had them custom-made. Check the back."

"Them?" Sam asks, flipping the small medallion over. Dean pulls a duplicate from around his neck. "That was awfully nice of her." Dean nods a bit, kicking his boots off. "If she wakes up, tell her I'm setting up a romantic scavenger hunt." Dean laughs, watching as his brother makes for the door.

Dean sits at the table in his room, a clear view of a soundly slumbering Katherine Louise in the other room, as he looks up a Meg Masters. He calls Sam with the news.

"Let me guess, you're sitting outside that poor girl's apartment."

"No." Dean waits. "Yes."

"You got a funny way of showing your affection," Dean mutters. 

Sam huffs impatiently. "Did you find anything on her or what?"

"Sorry man, she checks out. There's a Meg Masters in the Andover phone book. I even pulled up her high school photo. She definitely looks...different. Now why don't you go knock on her door and invite her to a poetry reading or whatever it is you do, huh?"

"What about the symbol? Any luck?"

"Surprisingly, I did. It's Zoroastrian. Very, very old school. Like, two thousand years before Christ. It's a sigil for a daeva."

"What's a daeva?"

"It translates to 'demon of darkness.' Zoroastrian demons. And they're savage, animalistic, nasty attitudes. Kind of like a demonic Michael Vick pit bull." 

"How'd you figure that out?"

"I called dad's friend Caleb. Here's the thing. These daevas, they have to be summoned."

"So someone's controlling it."

Dean nods. "Yeah. And from what I gather, it's risky business, too. These suckers tend to bite the hand that feeds them. And the arms...and the torsos..."

"So what do they look like?"

"Nobody knows—they haven't been seen for a couple millennia. Summoning a demon that ancient...someone really knows their stuff. I think we've got a major player in town." There's a creak behind him. Dean whirls around quickly. Katherine rubs her eye from the doorway, yawning a bit as she trudges forward. "Now why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram?"

"Bite me."

"Bite her. But don't leave teeth marks." Sam hangs up and Dean turns to Katherine, who even for just waking up seems amused at Dean's remark. "Hey—sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."

"You're fine," she murmurs, leaning down to run her hands down his chest, and loops her arms around his neck. Dean tilts his head back to kiss her, but she pulls away. "I've been sleeping," she tells him. "Sleeping, bad breath—"

"I don't care," he mumbles. After a moment, she smiles and leans down to kiss him. After a few moments of that, Dean rises to his feet and picks her up, pulling her legs around his hips, and falls onto the bed with her. 

"Where's Sam?"

"Not here." She smiles as his mouth ventures down the soft spot underneath her chin, down her throat. His hands move up her legs and tug on her camisole. It isn't with enough force to pull it off. He's asking. 

"I think," she breathes. "Now would be a good time to throw in the disclaimer—sex tonight wouldn't exactly be comfortable. For either party."

"I don't just kiss you to have sex with you," he says into her neck. "That's for you to decide."

Katherine smiles. "All up to me?"

"I'm game whenever."