Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

I am on the forty-fourth floor of the office building where the murder has taken place when the man kidnaps me.

It starts out as an ordinary day. I wake up in my motel room in Salina, Kansas. I eat breakfast in the motel's breakfast area. I get ready to go over the case files again and research what kind of supernatural beings could inflict the type of damage seen on the corpses. When I get a call at about five thirty in the afternoon, I put on my suit and grab my badge. I load my pistol and tuck it into my belt. I get into my car and drive to the newest crime scene, which, from the police call over the radio, I could tell showed promising signs of a monster attack.

The trouble starts at around six o'clock, when the head policemen tells me that my partner is already here. I don't have a partner. He takes me up to the forty-fourth floor. When I get there, the only person in the room is a man in a tan trenchcoat, who is already leaning over the body. Even from here, I can see the shreds in the victim's body. I can tell his heart is missing without even looking. A werewolf, obviously. The policeman tips his hat at me and leaves because he has work to do. When I approach, the man in the trenchcoat stands up and looks at me with a strange look in his eyes. Is that… fear?

He shows me his badge and tells me that he's from the D.C. office. I show him my badge and tell him that I am from the D.C. office. Then he panics and grabs my wrist.

And suddenly, I'm not in the building anymore.

Suddenly I'm in a library, on my hands and knees. Before I can even look up, I hear, "Cas, what the hell?" and then I get tackled.

I instinctively kick out at the man that has pushed me to the ground. I can't see, but apparently my foot finds its mark, because I hear a crack and then a grunt of pain.

"Get off me!" I scream, standing up and pulling my pistol out of my waistband.

What I see is a strange scene. A good-looking man with green eyes sits at the table, holding a beer and looking shocked. The man in the trenchcoat has a hand on his shoulder. Another man, one with long brown hair, lies on the floor, clutching his nose as a stream of blood drips through his fingers.

"What are you?" I yell, brandishing the gun. "What are you?"

"Cas, what did you do?" the man sitting at the table asks through gritted teeth.

"She is a federal agent, Dean," the man in the trenchcoat says apologetically. "You never told me what to do if there was another agent working the same case as me."

"I asked what you are!" I shout.

"What do you mean?" asks the green-eyed man, setting down his beer bottle.

"I mean, what kind of monsters are you?" I scream, bringing my gun to a stop when it's pointed at his chest. "Demons? Any other type of monster that can teleport?"

"I don't know what you mean," the man says, standing up and walking over to the man on the floor.

"Well, you will, when I figure out how to kill you," I say angrily. I whip my gun around to point at the trenchcoated man, take aim, and shoot. The bullet goes straight into his chest, right where his heart is, but he doesn't even budge.

The green-eyes man, who was helping up the man I kicked, instantly tackles me to the ground.

"Don't eat me," I scream instinctively. "I'm a hunter. I taste bad!"

"Wait," the man says, sounding surprised as he gets off me. "You're a hunter?"

"Yes," I say, backing away from him.

"But you are so small," say the man I just shot.

I sneer. "Size doesn't really matter if I can still stick a knife into your heart or up your ass."

"Well, don't do that," the green-eyed man says, grinning. "I'm Dean. Dean Winchester."

"A Winchester?" I groan. "Just my luck."

"So you've heard of us," says the man I kicked, who is now leaning against the table.

"You must be Sam," I say bitterly.

He smiles weakly and nods.

"Where are we?" I ask, looking around. We seem to be in a library, with a large table in the middle.

"Our bunker in Lawrence, Kansas," Dean says.

"Lawrence? That's almost two hours from Salina!" I exclaim, turning to the man in the trenchcoat. "If you're a hunter, how the hell did you get us here?"

"All angels can teleport," he says nonchalantly. "It is a simple trick."

If I had been eating, I would've choked on my food. "An angel?"

"Oh, come on," says Dean. "If you've heard of us, you've heard of angels."

"Yeah, but I never believed the stories. I've never seen an angel, let alone met one."

The man in the trenchcoat extends a hand towards me. "I am Castiel." I take his hand shake it tentatively.

"Uh, Cas," Sam says. "Can you heal my nose?"

"Of course." Castiel reaches forward and touches Sam's bloody nose gently. White light flares up around his hand and then fades, revealing Sam's nose to be clean and straight again.

"You have to take me back," I say. "I have to finish that case."

"Sure," Dean says smoothly. "This was just a misunderstanding."

"Oh, yes," I say. "I've just been kidnapped. It's just a misunderstanding."

"Cas didn't mean to," he says angrily.

"Um, yes, he did. He didn't have to grab my wrist in that building and bring me here, but he did."

"He panicked, that's all!"

I turn to Castiel. "Are you going to speak up," I say angrily, "or are you just going to let your boyfriend here defend you?"

"I'm not his boyfriend!" Dean says.

"Whatever," I say, sticking out my hand. "Take me back."

Castiel narrows his eyes at me. "No."

"What?" I ask.

"You are rude. You can get a cab back to Salina."

"I don't have any money for a cab!" I say indignantly. "All my money is back in Salina!"

"Well, that is not my problem," he says.

"You little-" I lunge towards him, but just like that, he disappears. My fingers close around empty air. "Where did he go?"

"To his room, probably," Dean says

"You have to take me back," I say.

"Ah, maybe I'll make you stay here for the night, then take you back tomorrow."

"What?" I exclaim. "No, you can't do that!"

He laughs. "Oh, but I can."

I'm laying in one of the guest beds in the room Sam showed me when I come up with the idea to steal a car to get back to Salina. After all, there's no guarantee that they'll take me back tomorrow.

Now, I just have to find a car.

I wander around for about five minutes before I come across a garage. Inside are old cars and motorcycles, but one stands out. A Chevy Impala. I smile and get to work hotwiring it.

Pretty soon, I'm pressing the button that opens the garage and zooming out of there.

Let them try to keep me in now.

When I wake up the next morning, back in my hotel room, I turn around to find Sam, Dean, and Cas sitting at the table next to the window.

I shriek. "How did you find me?"

"I can't believe you thought it was a good idea to take his car," Sam says.

"Well, it was, wasn't it?" I say angrily. "I mean, I got away."

"What made you choose my car?" Dean asks calmly.

"It was cool looking," I say.

"Well, that's because it's my car!" Dean yells.

"Calm down, dude," I say. "You can have it back."

"Yeah, I can, right after I kick your ass!"

"You're not going to kick my ass."

"Oh, yeah?" he sneers. "Please, tell me why not."

"Because on the two hour drive home last night, I figured out what the monster is."

He smirks. "Well, good for you. Don't expect any help from us." He stands up and grabs Cas by the arm. "Let's go, Cas." He pulls him out of the room.

Sam stands there for a few seconds, looking sort of surprised, but soon runs out of the room. I follow. We walk outside just in time to see Dean pulling out of the motel's parking lot, with Cas in the passenger seat.

"Damnit," says Sam, pulling out his phone and punching in a number quickly. "Dean," he says, holding the phone up to his ear, "you forgot me."

"I'm not turning around," I hear Dean yell.

Sam smirks. "Jerk."

"Bitch," says Dean.

"Assbutt," I say at the exact same time as Cas.

Sam looks at me with an odd expression on his face. I shrug. "Come get me, Dean," he says again.

"Get a cab, Sammy," he says angrily. "I'm not even going to look at that bitch again."

"She's not a-"

"Get a cab!" Dean hangs up.

"I don't think he realizes that I don't have any money on me," Sam tells me.

"You either?"

"Usually I do," says Sam with a shrug. "I didn't think Dean was going to leave me here."

"I have some money you can borrow," I say with a sigh.

"Really?" he smiles. "Thanks."

As I walk back inside to get the money, and he follows, I start pestering him with questions. "So that bunker thing is your home base?"

"Yeah."

"I didn't know hunters had home bases."

"You don't?"

"Nope. I've been on the road for ten years. Never stayed in one place for longer than three weeks."

"Isn't that hard?" he asks. "Not having somewhere to go when you're hurt or tired?"

"I don't get hurt."

"You're a hunter. How do you not get hurt?"

I shrug. "I'm good at my job."

"Yeah, so am I, but I've died before. No hunter can say they haven't been hurt."

"I mean, I've broken my nose a few times, broken a few fingers and toes, and snapped my wrist before, but I don't let that stop me."

"You must be one hell of a fighter."

"Yeah. I have a lot of pent-up anger left over from my childhood. It gives me that extra rush of adrenaline." I hand him a handful of bills. "This should be enough, I think."

"Thanks." He hands me a slip of paper. "If you ever need anything, this is the bunker's number. You know, if you ever get hurt to where you can't walk or something."

"I'll crawl, thanks."

"We have an angel that can heal you, and a place that you can stay if he can't. Just take the damn number."

"Thanks," I say with a sigh. "You wouldn't happen to have any silver bullets on you, would you?"

He frowns. "No. Shapeshifter or werewolf?"

"Werewolf. The hearts were missing."

"Well, good luck. And remember the number."

I nod. "I'm Leah Wittmer, by the way."

He smiles and shakes my hand. "Nice to meet you, Leah."

Hope you liked it! Read and review, please!