AN: Here it is. The one you've all been waiting for. It's time to bring in the team :)

I ended up carrying the baby to full term. The next few years were pretty hectic. Lots of stuff we don't have time to get into happened. I suppose it all comes down to that particular incident. The one you caught me during. And Sam and Dean, but we're focusing on me right now, right? So, Agent Hotchner, would you like to know how we ended up "trying to assassinate" the President?

---

Cass sat reading a newspaper with Sam across from him on his laptop while I played with my son, Milo Reece, on the floor. With Lucifer on the loose, Milo had been acting up lately. If we weren't careful, a simple tantrum could cause power to go out or items to fly across the room on their own. Same went for if the kid got too happy. It was honestly kind of exhausting, but I was still adamant about keeping him alive.

"Did the bunker's warding fail?" Cass inquired.

"I just powered it down," Dean responded, walking into the library.

"Look, Milo, it's Daddy," I cooed at my son.

I picked him up and turned him to face Dean.

"Hi, buddy," Dean greeted the young boy before addressing Cass once more. "Crowley called, said he had some big news about Lucifer, whatever that means."

"Wait, wait, wait, wait, wait," Sam interrupted. "Wait a second. So- So now Crowley can just... what, drop in whenever he feels like it? I- I prefer keeping Crowley at a distance. A long distance."

"Not very charitable, Moose," an English voice stated and Sam shook his head, "particularly since, once again, I'm saving all your asses. So, as you know, I'm temporarily persona non grata in my own palace."

"Palace?" the brothers Winchester asked in unison.

"However, there are those I still control," Crowley continued, ignoring them. "Operatives."

"Crowley, can we just get the damn news without the drama?" Sam snapped.

"Can I get you without flannel?" the demon retorted. "No. Still, I endure."

"What?" Sam looked genuinely offended.

"What did you find, Crowley?" I cut in before the argument could continue.

"Did a little digging, acting on a tip," Crowley complied, entering something into Sam's laptop as he spoke. "And I think I know the identity of Lucifer's newest vessel."

"Oh, for God's sake," Dean grumbled and Cass and I both shot him a look.

"Huh? Aha!" Crowley exclaimed, not having heard the elder Winchester.

He turned the laptop so we could all read the screen.

"Gentlemen... and lady... I give you one Jefferson Rooney, President of these United States."

---

"Even if Crowley does bring in Rowena, the problem remains. Lucifer can't be returned to the cage inside his vessel," Cass was saying. "His essence has to be extracted."

"Yeah," Sam nodded as he sat down with his laptop, "And Lucifer has found the perfect safehouse. I mean, how are we even supposed to start getting close to the President?"

"Well it helps that he's not in D.C.," I said as Dean walked in from putting Milo down.

They all stared at me like I was crazy and I expounded on my statement.

"Well, he's, uh, actually on a fundraising swing through the Midwest," I showed them my phone where I'd been looking up the information.

Sam took the phone, scanning the articles for a minute and then pulling up the same information on his laptop and handing it back.

"Yeah, right now, it looks like his whole party- aides, Secret Service, the whole circus- is staying at an estate owned by Ron Forester, the, uh, hedge fund zillionaire. It's right outside Indianapolis."

We all looked over his shoulder at the pictures scrolling down the screen as the moose talked.

"But it's completely surrounded by walls, security, Secret Service. Military. Plan B?"

"He's got a hell of a speaking schedule," Dean noted. "He's averaging three events a day, and he's got a gala dinner on Friday night."

"Well, at least he'll be outside the mansion," Cass nodded.

"Yeah, guarded like the Hope Diamond," I added. "Plan C?"

---

While Sam, Dean and I brainstormed some more, Cass had gone on a coffee run. He was just returning when he dropped the cups and grasped his head, crying out. Sam and Dean rushed over to him, helping him into a chair.

"Cass? Cass? Hey," Dean's voice was filled with worry for the angel.

"Something's happened," Cass breathed out, chest heaving. "Something... Angel radio... there's so many voices."

"What are they saying?" I inquired.

"There's been a massive surge of celestial energy. A Nephilim has come into being. It's the offspring of an angel and a human."

My eyes immediately went to Milo, sitting on the floor playing with a stuffed giraffe, his favorite toy. If the angel's were so adamant that he be killed, what would be the fate for this new child?

"It's much, much greater than a typical angel," Cass was responding to something Sam or Dean had said.

"Lucifer," Sam's comment wasn't a question.

"W- Lucifer?" Dean repeated. "I didn't know he was dating..."

---

Sam and Dean sat in the front seat of the Impala. Cass and I sat in the back, Milo's car seat in between us. Sam was talking to Crowley on the phone. We were trying to get to the estate as fast as we possibly could.

"Did we have to bring the child?" Cass inquired.

"Lexi didn't want to stay behind and we couldn't very well leave him alone," Dean snapped.

"It is a terrible idea to bring the antiChrist anywhere near Lucifer," the angel grumbled back.

"And he won't be. You are staying with him while Sam, Dean and I confront the Devil," I responded sweetly.

"Me? But-"

"Got it. All right," Sam hung up the phone, unknowingly cutting Cass off. "Crowley and Rowena will be meeting us in Indianapolis. Do we have a plan?"

"Impeach LOTUS," Dean responded, "and find Rosemary's Baby."

We turned at an intersection and a few moments later a black SUV pulled up behind us with its sirens blaring and lights flashing. As it pulled in front of us, Dean pulled off the road and climbed out. Three men exited the SUV and the Winchester groaned.

"Aw, crap. You guys stay here. We got this."

Sam and Dean approached the men as Cass and I stayed in the car with Milo. We watched them talk for a few moments, but the friendly conversation quickly escalated into a fistfight, ending with the brothers at gunpoint. Cass got out of the car then and started making his way over, but Dean stopped him. A black limousine pulled up while the exchange was happening and a man climbed out, launching a grenade in the direction of the SUV.

Everyone except Cass ducked for cover as the van went up in flames, the angel only staring at it quizzically. Inside the Impala, I had unbuckled Milo and cradled him against my chest as I climbed out to see what was going on.

"U.S. government plates," the man who had thrown the grenade was saying. "Elite dogcatcher level. Someone special wants you. Whose hydrant have you lads been tinkling on?"

"I'm sorry," Dean responded. "Who the hell are you?"

"Oh, where are my manners?" the man smiled, "Arthur Ketch. British Men of Letters."

---

"So it's all very simple, really. Mick Davies asked you to join our effort, which we're taking international. My instructions are to strongly encourage a 'yes.'"

Night had fallen and I was rocking a sleeping Milo as we listened to the British operative's explanation. Sam and Dean stood with similar stances: feet spread and planted firmly in place and arms crossed over their chests with their iconic Winchester bitchfaces not giving away any emotion as they stared at Ketch. Cass stood back by me, his typical head cock and squinting eyes assessing the scene.

"So, what? You've just been following us?" the angel questioned.

"Not at all. We're good dogs. We only come when we're called. And he..." Ketch nodded toward Sam, "called."

"You what?" Dean demanded of his brother, front dropped as he looked at him.

"I- I didn't, uh... I hung up," Sam defended lamely.

"Yes, you did," Ketch agreed, "which made Mr. Davies think you were in trouble, which you were. So he rings me. Bing, bang, boom. Meet Bob. He's your uncle. Oh, and, um, you're welcome. Hmm?"

"And why should we believe anything you have to say?" Dean growled.

"You. Halo. Do you sense I'm lying?"

"My name is Castiel. And... no. But the truth can be situational."

"Oh. Oh, I do enjoy an angel," Ketch smiled. "But I understand your hesitation. You haven't exactly seen us at our best. Lady Bevell is a bit... excitable."

"She tried to kill us," Dean growled again.

"Like I said, excitable."

"And you're better?" Sam asked him.

"I don't care about you one way or the other," Ketch shrugged. "I'm not an ideologue."

"And all you wanna do is help the American Hunters to clear this country of monsters?" I finally spoke up.

"We understand things are different here, love," the British man looked at me and winked. "We're eager to collaborate."

He looked back to the brothers Winchester and addressed them.

"The British Men of Letters are centuries old, lads. We can offer expertise, weaponry, skills..."

"Like we saw out on the road?" Sam interrupted him and he nodded.

"I'm an artist, Mr. Winchester," he took out a key and popped his trunk. "I paint in many colors."

The men all moved in closer to get a good look in the trunk while I hung back with Milo.

"Was that a grenade launcher?" Dean could hardly hold the jealousy out of his voice and I rolled my eyes.

"Quite."

"Ah," came Dean's quiet sigh, earning a chuckle from the British Man of Letters.

Milo was stirring, making little whining noises and I turned away from the men and their toys to tend to the fussy child.

"It's ok, baby. Sh. Mama's here," I soothed him as I took out a diaper.

Once the nearly-two-year-old was changed and fed I buckled him back into his car seat and joined the men back outside the car.

"And what might you boys be working on?" Ketch was asking them.

"Well, you want us to trust you, you're going to have to trust us first," Dean informed him.

"And that means?"

---

"Hotch! We need you in the other room!"

"Oh, come on. We're almost to the good part!" I protested from my place on the other side of the interrogation table.

The agent sitting across from me stood, brown eyes meeting my blue ones.

"We'll pick this up when I return."

"Whatever you want, sweetheart. I could talk about this all day."

---

I studied my nails, pushing back the cuticles as I wondered how my son was doing. Cass had better be keeping a close eye on the kid or I would personally kill him using his own angel blade. When the door to the interrogation room I sat in opened again, one of the other agents, the smart one with the young face, entered.

"Hi, pretty boy. Is it your turn with me?"

"You claim the President was possessed by the Devil. How'd you get close to him?"

"Well, that would be Crowley's doing. He was the only one who could get into the mansion. You see, we found out who was carrying his kid. Her name was Kelly Kline and she was staying in the mansion with Lucifer. So he teleported inside, snatched her, and brought her back to the motel we were staying at."

---

"No. No, you're making it up," Kelly was frantically shaking her head. "It's impossible."

"Well, to be fair, so is teleporting. But..." Dean spread his arms, "ta-da!"

"Who are you people?" the woman demanded, looking around at everyone.

"Well, dear," Rowena started, "I'm a witch. He's an angel..."

Castiel bowed and I rolled my eyes.

"And I'm the King of Hell," Crowley added, raising a hand.

"Oh, God," Kelly muttered, putting a hand to her forehead.

"No, actually, he left," Cass informed her.

I hit him on the arm and he gave me a questioning look as I rolled my eyes again.

"Okay, guys, not helping," Sam told them.

"You- you can't. He's the President."

"He was," I nodded, "but now... Tell me he hasn't been acting different."

"Jeff's been under a lot of stress," Kelly started. "He..."

"Wrong," Crowley interrupted. "He's the Devil. Horns, pitchfork, the whole nine."

"Crowley, still not helping," Sam hissed at the demon. "Listen, we know what we're talking about here. We have been on Lucifer's trail a long time."

"And you're pregnant with his child," Rowena added.

"That's... that's... you're lying," Kelly shook her head, backing up into the corner.

"The thing inside you, it's unholy," Cass told her, moving to get a bible from a drawer in the nightstand. "It's an abomination."

I clenched my jaw at his words, thinking about how similar his words had been when speaking of my own son. I knew what Kelly was going through, even if my child wasn't Lucifer's spawn. I watched as Cass instructed Kelly to place her hand on the bible and her handprint was seared onto the cover, causing the book to go up in flames. Dean was quick to bring over a trash can and a pitcher of water which they used to put the book out before addressing the distressed woman.

"Does he even know you're knocked up?"

"Yes, he... He said he was thrilled. He said it was the only time he ever created anything."

"Kelly... we need your help."

Kelly looked to the younger Winchester, who met her gaze with his signature puppy-dog eyes and she swallowed hard.

---

Sam, Dean, Rowena and I were waiting in an adjacent room to the one we had spoken with Kelly in. Milo was asleep on the bed. We heard Cass brainwash the guards who had entered into thinking only Kelly was present in the other room and to go wait in the car. Cass then joined us to wait while they went to get President Lucifer.

"Kelly? Kelly, what's wrong?"

"I told you on the phone. I can't have this baby."

There was a slamming sound that shook the walls as Lucifer got violent.

"I'm afraid I'll have to insist," he growled.

Sam burst into the room with the Hyperbolic Pulse Generator.

"Sam!" came Lucifer's annoyed voice.

"Vade retro," Sam began speaking.

"We've done this dance so many times."

"Princeps inferni."

"Sam!" Dean yelled as we entered the room.

Lucifer swept an arm toward Rowena, Dean and I but nothing happened. The lights were popping and I cast a worried glance back into the room containing my son as Rowena began the spell to send Lucifer back to his cage.

"Mah tay, ez loh, say tah!"

"This isn't over, Sam!" Lucifer yelled as the spell began to work.

"Go to hell!" Sam yelled back.

"Mah tay, ez loh, say tah! Mah tay, ez loh, say tah!"

A stream of white light exited Lucifer's mouth and swirled around the motel room before going through a heating vent. The room fell silent as the President's body collapsed to the floor. Castiel went to him, checking for a pulse.

"He's alive. He won't remember a thing."

"Oh, Jeff. Oh, my God. Jeff?" Kelly started freaking out.

"We gotta go. We gotta get her out of here. Go," Sam said.

"Wait, wait," Kelly tried to protest.

"Cass, take her and Milo. Kelly, you gotta go. Go!" I chimed in.

"We got him... We got Lucifer," Dean said softly, staring at the President.

He started to rouse then and Sam crouched down beside him.

"Mr. President?" he addressed the disoriented man.

"Okay, all right. Take it easy, Tiger," Dean added, helping Sam.

"Mr. President! On your feet- Hands on your heads!" Guards flooded the room.

Kelly and Cass had already escaped with my son out the back. Sam and Dean rose to their feet as the three of us complied.

"Whoa," Sam said.

"Hands on your heads!" the guards repeated.

"Listen, we were just trying to-" Sam started.

"Shut up! You're under arrest for the attempted assassination of the President of the United States!"

---

"So, here we are," I finished.

"That's the story you're going with?"

"It's the true one," I shrugged.

The agent... no, doctor... He had introduced himself as Dr. Spencer Reid the first time he had come in to listen to me, studied me, eyes darting about. They had all been taking turns listening to my story. I could only assume the others were listening behind the glass or they were filling each other in because they hadn't once asked me to repeat parts of my story.

"Miss Turner, do you know where Kelly and Castiel are?"

"Nope," I replied, popping the "p" sound. "If I did, I would have included that in my story, now wouldn't I?"

"So you don't know where your son is? Doesn't that make you worried?"

"Cass wouldn't let anything happen to him. I'd kill him if he tried anything."

"He wanted your son dead. He wants Kelly's child dead."

"Cass will do the right thing. He's different from the other angels."

Dr. Reid studied me with his light brown eyes. That was something it seemed every member of the team in the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI had in common; every single one of them had different shades of brown eyes. I absentmindedly wondered what the odds of that happening were. The genius sitting across from me probably knew the answer.

"What have Sam and Dean been telling you? I bet their stories are scarily similar to mine. At least the part about the President. They probably didn't tell you about the other stuff I told you, huh?"

"They haven't told us anything, actually. At least, not yet. We're keeping them detained for the time being. We wanted to talk to you first, seeing as you're not the one who keeps ending up on the FBI's most wanted list, dying, coming back, and starting the cycle over again."

"Mm, yeah," I nodded. "That makes sense. So, are we done?"

"That depends. Do you have anything else to say?"

"Not to you, no. Can you get that other pretty boy agent in here? I'd love to see him again... What was his name? Agent Derek Morgan?"

My eyes moved over Reid's shoulder to stare directly at the mirror that I knew had agents on the other side watching through. I didn't know for sure that Agent Morgan was one of those agents, but even if he wasn't whoever it was and Reid surely could relay the message to him. I leaned back in my chair, folding my hands over my stomach and crossing my legs under the table as I closed my eyes.

I heard Reid's chair slide out and the door open and shut as he left the room, but refused to open my eyes again. I simply let my mind wander as I thought about everything. Sam and Dean were being held somewhere, hopefully planning their escape if they hadn't done so already. Cass and Kelly were God knows where with my son. And I was being interrogated by the FBI. I just hoped that if the brothers Winchester did manage to make an escape and find Cass, they wouldn't forget about me.

"I thought Reid was pretty boy. Not me."

"Well, he's a different type of pretty boy, Agent Morgan. An innocent, childlike pretty boy. You however..." I trailed off as I finally opened my eyes. "Well, you I could just eat right up."

"Alright, that's enough. You already finished your story. We're all caught up. So what else could you possibly have to say?"

"Sam and Dean have been caught by members of the FBI before. What makes you think this time is any different from the others?"

"Before me and my team weren't involved. Now we are. And we never let a perp escape once they've been caught."

I leaned forward, folding my hands on the table as I held the agent's gaze.

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," I stage-whispered in a sing-song.

"What?"

"These guys have gotten themselves arrested, put in a high security prison and escaped before. What makes you think this time is any different?"

"HOTCH!" Morgan yelled, jumping up from his seat and hurrying out of the room.

I smirked, winking at the mirror as I sat back in my chair once more.