Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Supernatural, however, I do own Keller. Yay for me.

Chapter 1

The gentle roar of the Impala was the only sound on the deserted highway. That is, other than the Blue öyster Cult blaring from its windows.

Sam and Dean Winchester coasted down the otherwise silent road, heading towards Mazomanie, Wisconsin, in search of their latest demon. They`d been chasing this one for days and still had yet to figure out what exactly it was. They were just following the signs; cattle death, electrical storms- the usual.

"Any luck?" Dean asked his brother, whose eyes were glued to the screen of his laptop. When he got no reply, Dean took his eyes off the road to glance at Sam. Seeing that the taller Winchester didn't appear to have heard him, he tried again.

"What are you lookin' at, porn or something?" he teased. Sam's head shot up as he glared daggers at his older brother.

"I'm researching this damn demon. And I think I've finally got something," He replied. Dean looked expectantly at his brother, urging him to continue. "Well, the signs are so basic and there's so many demons that it could be really, cause they've all got nearly the same warnings."

"So far, all bad news." Sam ignored the comment and carried on with his debriefing.

"But, they've got something else in common too. All but one of them can be killed the same way- silver knife in the heart," he concluded in a manner that Dean thought was all too dramatic. The older man considered this information.

"So basically, there's a shitload of demons that this bastard could be, but that doesn't matter 'cause they all die the same way?" he questioned. When Sam confirmed this with a nod, Dean turned back to the road and shook his head in disbelief. "Now this is just getting sad. It's barely even a challenge anymore!" he complained.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You want to have a hard time killing something that's turning cows into piles of ribbons?" he asked incredulously.

"Well, I'd like at least a fight!"

"I swear Dean; you're like a mystery, wrapped in a riddle, wrapped in a jerk." He shook his head. Dean grinned with his mouth packed full of potato chips.

"That's why you love me, bitch," he retorted.

The taller Winchester snorted and they lapsed into silence. Which was promptly broken by Dean's window-rattling belch. Sam made a noise of disgust and went back to his laptop.

* * *

Dean hopped out of the Impala just as Sam was closing the trunk.

"Got the knife?" Sam nodded in reply. "Great. Let's ice this motherfucker."

They walked down the moonlit streets that their latest demon had been prowling, wondering where to start. They honestly didn't know.

"Dude, I think we're losing our touch," Dean said after several minutes of aimless wandering. "I mean, we basically know nothing about this case. We don't even know what kind of freakin' demon we're after!" Dean shook his head in self-disgust. "We suck."

Sam had to agree. They had their weapon and a vague location but nothing specific. They did suck.

Then, out of some random coincidence that's only possible cause could've been fate, they heard a scream. Bolting off in the direction of the sound, Sam prayed to whatever God there was out there, that this was their demon.

They rounded a corner into an alley to see a girl being held up against the grimy wall by what could only be described as a demon. Seriously. It was the spitting image of one of those stupid looking things from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. It was actually green.

Sam and Dean both stopped in their tracks upon sight of the horrible cliché. In that moment, an unexpected incident occurred which had the Winchesters frozen in place, watching the scene unfold.

The girl put her arms up and in a movement almost too fast for their eyes to follow; she broke the demon's hold on her and pushed it back. A heavy roundhouse kick then landed on its face, and she spun around and suddenly had turned the tables. She now had the demon against the wall, holding it by its slimy throat. The demon struggled and gurgled through its own slime, and she smashed its head back into the wall. Then she glanced at Sam, her eyes drawn to a glint of silver in his hand.

"Hand me that knife, would you?" Sam was smacked out of his stupor at the request and complied quickly; tossing the knife he didn't even remember brandishing.

Not bothering with thanks, the girl caught the weapon with impeccable reflexes and promptly drove it home, straight through the demon's heart.

Dean blinked. He wasn't stunned by the girl's action like his brother (though he had to admit, it was pretty impressive). No, there was something else that made him stop dead. Something about the girl. A sense of recognition and... belonging. He knew he'd never met her, but that he definitely wanted to. He thanked his lucky stars he'd found her, because whatever this weird- and really cliché, he thought- feeling was, he didn't want it to stop.

* * *

Oh jeez, do I need a drink. Great fight, but now I gotta deal with the body- the weird, green body...- and then these guys are gonna want an explanation that I just don't want to give. No matter how gorgeous they are.

Deciding not to deal with it, I covered the body with some junk lying around the alley and started to walk out, heading towards my favourite bar (and by favourite, I mean, only one in town), a couple of blocks away.

Don't get the wrong idea, I'm not really an irresponsible person, but I've had a really bad day and I just need to sit back and relax with one of my dearest, darlingest friends- tequila.

My name's Keller. Nice to meet you. I'm twenty four years old, enjoy long walks on the beach, and I'm not -I repeat, not- a hunter.

Yeah that's right, you heard me. Despite the fact that I just killed a demon, I don't do that as a full time job. As a matter of fact, I'm more or less unemployed, but that's beside the point. See, I learned about demons when- Oh wait, the tall guy's talkin' to me. Hang on.

"Hey! Wait a second!" Talls-McGee called. Sigh. Try as I might, I can't escape responsibility. It's a curse, really. I slowly turned to face the dude. And his hot friend.

Speaking of his hot friend- and when I say hot, I mean hot. Really. Muscular, chiselled, strong looking, but with just a hint of vulnerability. And dear sweet lord, his eyes. They're like fuckin' lasers! Uh... good lasers. Sexy lasers. Which are currently burning right into me, giving me this weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. A nice one though.

Snapping myself out of my schmooze-y thoughts, I looked at the one who addressed me. Jesus Christ, he's a fucking Sasquatch. Albeit, a hot Sasquatch, but a Sasquatch nonetheless.

"What seems to be the problem, Officer?" I quipped innocently.

"Uh... just wondering... what the hell was that? I mean," he paused, glancing over me, "you don't look like a hunter."

"I'm not," I cut in quickly. Possibly too quickly. The Yeti's eyes narrowed a fraction. Yep. Too quick. "Thanks for noticing." My intention was to ease the...tension... but I did not succeed. Story of my life.

"Right. Well then, that really raises the question. Do you know what that was?"

I raised my eyebrows at this guy. He seemed to think I was some kind of damsel in distress. Though that would explain them riding into the alley like knights in shining armour. And here I thought chivalry was dead.

"'Course I knew what it was." I stopped and considered. "Well, not specifically, but it was definitely a demon. A very cheesy demon, if you ask me. I mean, honestly. Green? Couldn't you at least try to blend in? What's next, horns?" I internally chuckled to myself- which is pretty hard to do. Just FYI.

"Well, uh- if you're not a hunter, then could you possibly, I dunno, explain yourself?" the hotter of the two finally spoke up, his first appearance in our little convo, and oh my god if I thought his eyes were sexy, then his voice was practically and eargasm. Husky, and rough, and just all around making my knees turn into Jell-O, and I really don't blame them.

"Well, first I need a drink. Then I'll explain. You're welcome to join me, s'long as you're buyin'?" I hoped they would, other than my keys; there is literally nothing in my pockets.

Luckily, Captain Sexy Pants jumped at the occasion and was in front of me in an instant, thrusting his hand out for me to shake.

"Dean Forrester. That's my brother Sam. I'll take you up on that offer," I took his hand and shook it, thinking.

"Dean Forrester, huh? Where have I heard that name before?" I thought for a moment and 'Mr. Forrester' seemed to tense up a bit. I glanced at the other 'Forrester'. And it clicked. "Oh! Oh oh!! I know. That was the name of Rory's boyfriend on Gilmore Girls!" My amused gaze skirted past the shocked –and embarrassed- 'Dean' and rested on the other Faux Forrester. "Kinda looked like you."

Having made the large men in front of me sufficiently uncomfortable, I smiled sweetly and walked backwards towards the bar again. "Now that I've cracked your code and discovered your secret passion for girly soaps, wanna tell me your real names?"

The shorter man seemed humiliated and genuinely amused at the same time, but snapped out of his bemusement quickly and smiled that devilishly handsome grin at me. "Alright, let me try that again. I'm Dean Winchester, and that's still my brother Sam. Now. Which way to the booze?" he asked smoothly.

Suppressing a chuckle at his instant change in demeanour, I pointed in the right direction and we were off.