You answer your phone with the usual. "Yeah?" It's met with a brief pause on the other end. Then an unfamiliar voice comes through.

"Y/N?" The connection is bad, but a male voice is asking for you.

"Yeah, this is her. Who's this?" You ask absently. You're surveying the damage to your car. The hunt you were just on went all right... except the demon you just ganked knocked an AC unit onto your Mustang before you killed him. Shit. Your ride was fucked. No amount of work in the world was going to fix this.

"This is Sam Winchester." The voice on the other end answers. You stop circling your defunct car immediately- this got your attention. Why was a Winchester calling you?

"Sam Winchester." You repeat his name slowly. "And to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"You've heard of me?" He seems surprised.

"Everyone's heard of you." You say. He's silent a moment, then begins speaking again.

"My brother Dean is on his way to meet you. He'll be in Tucson this evening. He needs a hunting partner and-"

"I work alone, sorry."

"Hear me out, Y/N." Sam Winchester says, and his voice is so sincere, you stop yourself from hanging up at the last second.

"Fine."

"I broke my leg. And Dean's in no shape to hunt alone. Trust me, he isn't happy about this either. Just talk to him?" Sam implores you.

You sigh, looking up at the hot afternoon sun. "How does your brother even know where I am?"

"We have... ways." He's evasive. You shrug. You'll find out soon enough.

"Fine. Have him meet me at the North Bar on Ninth at seven pm. I'll be in the back booth." You click your phone off, and begin shoving your arsenal of weapons from your trunk into a duffel bag.

The bar was dark and industrial. You watch as the man strides to your table and slides in across from you. He's tall and handsome in a rugged sort of way. He doesn't seem pleased at this meeting either. In fact he looks tired. His sandy blonde hair is windblown, and his green eyes look haunted. From what you know about the Winchesters, they've seen some shit. You extend your hand. "You must be Dean."

He shakes it, letting it go quickly. "Listen, this wasn't my idea. It's my brother's half-cocked idea that you're a good replacement hunting partner for me."

"But you're here." You point out. He sighs, letting out a deep pent up breath. He nods.

"Yeah. Well, you try living with him once he's determined." Dean orders a beer and looks heavily at you. "I'm going after Crowley. Sam insists that I shouldn't go alone. He did whatever it is he does on his laptop, and your name popped up."

"You're going after the King of Hell." You say, slightly amused.

"Why is this funny?"

"Aren't you always after him?"

Dean looks at you, suspicious. "How would you know that?"

"Anyone with a library card or an internet connection knows quite a bit about your exploits."

Dean rubs his face, embarrassment spreading over it like wildfire. "Jesus Christ. You've read the books?" You nod, smiling. "They were written by a prophet. I had nothing to do with that!"

"They apparently don't make prophets like they used to." You say. "Most of that was straight up smut."

"You're the one who read them. All of them?"

You nod and shrug. "I spend a lot of time on the road. Sometimes a little smut isn't a bad thing." You stop, make a face, and look away. "Though it IS a little awkward now that you're sitting across the table from me. I feel like I know a little too much about certain things regarding... you."

"Yeah, we can not go there."

"So why does Sam insist on you hunting with me?" You ask, changing the subject as quickly as possible.

Dean sits up straighter as his beer is delivered. "He says you're good at what you do, if a little hardcore about it. He thinks you can keep up. He also thinks you can keep me in line."

"Keep you in line?" You ask. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Dean shakes it off. "Don't worry about it. It's Sam being... Sam."

You weren't so sure about that. "Well, Dean, I'm used to working alone. I don't like worrying about anyone else. I also don't like being told what to do."

"Yeah, trust me, I know. I know all about you, Sweetheart." He looks at you, a hard look in his eyes.

You gulp. "Yeah?" What exactly did he know?

He nods slowly.

"Like how much?"

"Like everything." His eyes are like emeralds, staring into your soul. You suddenly don't feel as tough as you usually do. You put on some false bravado.

"Then you know I don't fuck around."

"I know not everything you kill are monsters." He levels at you.

You glare at him. "Let's get one thing straight here. Everything I have ever ganked was a monster. But sometimes monsters look an awful lot like humans."

He's silent for a while. He keeps absentmindedly rubbing his right arm, as if something is itching or irritating him under his shirt. He finally stops and nods at you. "Fair enough." He says. "So, are we gonna do this or not?"

You take a deep breath. "Well, you're the one seeking me out. And since I'm currently car-less, I'm considering helping you. But if you don't like what you see, you can always get back in that sweet ride of yours and head back to wherever you call home."

Dean looks you up and down. "I never said I don't like what I see."