"Roy La Grange is a fraud! He's no healer!"

"Amen brother." Katherine tucks the journalist's flyer into her jacket with a sigh. Dean pats her shoulder and they split, Katherine heading to the La Grange house with Sam, and Dean to the tent.

"You know what we're looking for?" Sam whispers.

The girl snorts. "No," she murmurs, creeping around the back of the wraparound porch, watching a sheriff's deputy escort Sue Anne and Roy down the stairs. "Probably something old and ugly-lookin'." She pulls up on the window and smiles in success before slipping between the cracks with the grace of a feline.

Appropriately named, Sam thinks to himself, attempting to mimic her lithe movement. He's much too tall for it, though, but silent on his feet like many good hunters.

"Split up," Katherine murmurs, glancing around the dated wallpaper-enclosed living room. "Start here, work back."

"Where are you going?" Sam asks as she starts away. Katherine points to a closed door.

The study looks even older than the house itself. She glances around for a moment before moving straight for the antique bookshelf, gazing at the encyclopedias, bibles and various medical journals the La Granges have in stock. Judging by the dust buildup, these haven't been touched in a while.

She stops.

The huntress carefully removes her fingers, staring down at the dust on the shelf. She looks for a disruption, a hard line perhaps, and smiles, pleased with the evidence.

She pries a dinosaur copy of the Old and New Testament from the shelf and flips through the pages, looking for a makeshift box that had been cut out, perhaps. She finds nothing and sighs, shutting the bible abruptly before another idea comes to mind. Her long fingers probe the back of the cabinet before they come across a leathery surface.

Katherine pulls the book from the depths of the shelf and replaces the testaments before thumbing through the little booklet. One of the first things she comes across is the strange cross she saw in the tent.

"Bingo."

A few pages behind is a depiction of what she would've imagined, as a child, the Grim Reaper to have looked like. Robe, scythe and all. It's marked with a strip of black velvet, like a bookmark.

She analyzes the newspaper clippings folded up in the book and notices a strange connection: they're authored by the same journalist. His picture is at the foot of every article.

The one from outside.

Katherine pulls her phone out and presses '2' as she moves from the study. "Sam," she calls.

"What've you got?" Dean asks on the other end of the line.

Sam turns expectantly to her. "Roy's choosing victims he sees as immoral," she says, recalling the man's words from the service earlier. "I think I know who's next." Sam, wide-eyed, follows her out of the window. "Remember that protestor?" She asks, shutting the window.

"Parking lot guy?"

"Mhm. We're gonna find him, but you can't let Roy heal anyone, you got me?"

"Yeah, I'll figure something out."

"Be careful." Katherine hangs up and stuffs her phone into her back pocket.

"How did you figure it out?" Sam asks. Katherine hands him the newspaper clippings and soldiers on.

"Split up—we'll find him faster." Katherine and Sam take opposite sides of the parking lot. She circles her end twice before looking across the way. She throws her hands up and Sam shakes his head. "Damn it."

"Help!"

Katherine whirls around, searching for the man. "Hello?!"

"Help me!" Katherine bolts towards the front of the lot before she sees the man run between a row of cars. "Help me!" He's terrified, staring up near the house.

"Where is it?!"

"Right there!"

Katherine grips his elbow and yanks him forward, unsure of where to run. Dean calls her. "Yeah," she snaps, her arm forming a protective snare around the reporter—David—as Sam arrives.

"I stopped Roy," Dean says quietly.

Katherine lets out a quick breath, dropping her arm. "I think we're okay now," she says to Sam, and turns to the tent.

"Katherine, he was gonna heal Layla."

"Of course he was," the teenager mutters, shaking her head.

"He's still here," David chokes out, sinking to his knees.

"Dean, it didn't work!" She glances around for the thing, but it's futile--she wouldn't be able to see it anyway.

"But he's not healing—"

"Then maybe Roy's not controlling this thing!" Katherine says, holding her phone between her shoulder and ear as she looks down at the choking man. His eyes are glazing over, beginning to look like he has a severe case of cataracts.

"Then who the hell is?" A split second passes. "Sue Ann."

"Dean—" He hangs up and Katherine snaps her phone shut.

"Sam, you stay here," she says, turning around.

"And do what?"

"Watch him." Katherine points to David and starts running for the tent. Just as she arrives, Dean is being escorted out by two deputies with Sue Ann behind them.

"I just don't understand," the woman says. "After everything we've done for you, after Roy healed you...we're just very, very disappointed, Dean." He and Katherine stare unconvincingly at her. "You can let him go—I'm not going to press charges. The Lord will deal with him as he sees fit."

Dean glances to Katherine as the girl's eyes widen, staring at the back of Sue Ann's head as she starts away.

"If we catch you around here again, son, we'll put the fear of God in you, understand?" One of the officers says.

"Yessir. Fear of God. Got it." The deputies shove the six foot man into a slightly smaller teenager, and Katherine grunts, pushing back on Dean's solar plexus. "Dicks," he mutters.

"What did you do to her?" Katherine asks.

"I—nothing!" He straightens out. "Layla—"

"How could you do that, Dean?" Katherine whirls around at the soft, even-toned voice of Layla Rourke. The woman is perhaps incapable of seeming angry. If anything, her expression is a bit perplexed, a wrinkle in her forehead. "And it could've been my only chance."

"He's not a healer," Katherine gently tells her.

"He healed Dean," Layla points out.

"I know it doesn't seem fair," Dean begins. "And we can't even begin to explain, but Roy is not the answer. I'm sorry."

Layla shakes her head. "Goodbye, Dean. Katherine." The teenager jams her hands into her utility jacket's pockets.

"She deserves a whole lot more than what I got," Dean mutters, kicking at the ground.

Katherine shakes her head, staring at the toes of her boots. "Don't say that," she murmurs. Dean turns to look at her; curly blonde hair whips around in the cool Nebraska air, ruffling the fringe over her forehead. He could've sworn he saw a swell of tears in her blue eyes as she started away from him just a moment later.

"Katherine." She looks up as Sam crosses to her from the impala. He leans down close to her ear, and curiously, Dean starts to the two. "Roy's healing Layla tonight."

She pulls away from him, wide-eyed. "How do you know?"

"I just heard him and Sue Ann talking to Mrs. Rourke."

✕

"Roy really believes, huh?"

"I don't think he has any idea what his wife's doing."

"I found this hidden in their library," Katherine says, tossing the old booklet onto the table, and goes back to cleaning her gun. Dean picks the spell book up. "It's as old as the fricken dinosaurs, written by a priest who went Darth Vader on the Jedi. There's a bookmarked binding spell in there for trapping a reaper."

"Must be a hell of a spell."

"Yup," Katherine agrees, replacing the recoil spring and its guide in the house. She reassembles the beretta as she speaks, and Dean watch her residue-smeared fingers work nimbly and efficiently. "Like I suggested earlier, there's got to be some pretty heavy stuff in that house. A black altar. Bones, human blood, firstborn child. Okay, not the baby, but you get it. For a preacher's wife to cross a line like that..." Katherine winces, pulling back on her slide, and moves it forward once she's wiped it down.

"Evil," Dean mutters.

"Desperate," Katherine corrects. "Her husband was dying. She'd have done anything to save him." She nods her head to the booklet and sets the M9 down before going to wash her hands. "She must've used the binding spell to keep the reaper from Roy."

"But if he's still alive, why is she still using the spell?" Dean asks.

"Force it to kill the people she thinks are immoral." She throws a look at Dean. "You hear what she said about you by the tent?"

"The whole 'the Lord will do as he sees fit'?" Katherine nods. "Yeah."

"What?" Sam questions, glancing between the two.

"Right after Dean got thrown out, Sue Ann made a strange remark," Katherine sighs. "I think she could go after Dean for interrupting. Potentially."

Sam's eyes widen. "Well then we've got to break the spell!"

"We're on it, Sparky," Katherine says, raising a hand. "Cool it."

"Sue Ann had a coptic cross like this," Dean murmurs. "When she dropped it, the reaper backed off."

Katherine lowers herself to the table and she steals Sam's laptop, typing something into the Google search bar.

Sure enough, the cross she saw in the tent pops up, and apparently it is Christian, just not the standard Christianity most people think of. "Huh."

"What?" The brothers chorus.

"I didn't think it had much to do with Christianity, but..." She turns the laptop around for the brothers to look at. "Egyptian Christians. Says the cross is some variation of ankh, a symbol for eternal life." Katherine clicks her tongue. "Didn't know 'coptic' referred to the Egyptians. Good man." She fist-bumps Dean and he smiles proudly, turning to Sam.

"Good man," he repeats. Sam rolls his eyes.

"Do you think we ought to find the cross or destroy the altar?" Sam asks.

"Maybe both," Katherine tells him, standing up from her chair.

✕

"Hey! You gonna put that fear of God in me?"

"Oh, God."

Katherine takes off with Dean just behind her, the two deputies tailing them like no other. The two hunters run behind Roy's bus and to an old truck with a trailer attachment, watching the deputies from the passenger side mirror.

"You see 'em?"

"No."

Their breathing is surprisingly steady as they both stare at the deputies through the reflection. In the truck, a dog lunges at the window, fogging it as the creature barks. Katherine jumps straight into Dean's front, all basic human function halted for a split second. She holds a hand to her chest, shaking her head, and watches in anticipation as the deputies' flashlights swing to the other side of the vehicle. Katherine lightly hits Dean's shoulder and points to the top of the vehicle. He nods, picking her up with surprising ease, and pushes her up over his head. He uses the tire to hoist himself up and Katherine grips his hands, tugging him up as he pushes. They're both on the roof in a matter of seconds without so much as a squeak.

"Psycho mutt," one of the deputies mutters. Katherine watches the two retreat, her front pressed into the damp vehicle top.

"Damn, that was fast," Dean mutters in her ear. "We make a good team."

She laughs breathlessly, quietly. "Yeah," she whispers.

"Maybe we should--"

"Hit on me after we get rid of this reaper," she tells him. Dean closes his mouth and nods once before she rolls onto her feet and drops to the ground. He smiles, shaking his head, and follows after her.

As the two start away, a strange noise halts Katherine, Dean just behind her. "What?"

"You don't hear that?" Katherine glances around, and in the corner of her eye, a light goes off. She looks up, and more street lamps shut off, leading right to them. "Dean, run."

"It's already here."

Katherine whirls around, staring at Dean. He's looking just ahead of him, eyes a little wide, jaw clenched. But Katherine doesn't see what he sees. He grunts through his teeth, some unseen force lowering him to his knees. "Dean!"

She suddenly wishes she brought her bat. Would that work on reapers?

Katherine's hand rests in Dean's hair, holding him up as she looks frantically around for something. She doesn't know where Sam is, and has a million other questions running through her mind at the moment. "I'm gonna find Sue Ann," she says to Dean, but she isn't sure if he's listening to her. She tightens her grip on Dean's short hair for a brief moment and starts away. "Just hang on!"

She runs towards the tent, eyes scouring the dark land, before they settle on a figure just illuminated by the inside of the tent. Katherine sprints towards her, but slips in the mud as she approaches, knocking Sue Ann to the ground. Katherine quickly restrains the woman's wrists and claps a hand over her mouth. She opens her own to speak, but her eye catches on a glint in the mud.

It must be the cross Dean was talking about. It looks just like the one in the tent. Katherine scrambles off of the woman and turns the thing between her fingers before dropping it to the rocks again.

"No!" The huntress' heel comes down fast and hard on the amulet. Blood pools at the base of the rocks and sticks to the heel of the girl's boot. "My God, what have you done?!" The woman rises to her feet, on the verge of wailing, but it's something more hysterical.

Like she's staring death in the face.

Sue Ann turns to run and stops suddenly before she's brought to her knees by some invisible force. The reaper. Sam runs up behind Katherine, sliding to a stop as he stares at Sue Ann, and he wonders why Katherine isn't doing anything to help.

"What's happening?"

"I'll explain later." She grabs his hand and takes off, tugging him behind her, and calls for Dean. She whirls around him, gripping his shoulder. "Hey...you all right?"

"Hell of a week," he coughs out, shaking his head once. "Hey, can I get you a beer?"

The girl laughs a little, glancing up to Sam. "What?"

"Seeing as you've saved my ass a couple of times now." Katherine shifts on her feet, smiling still, but she's trying to suppress it. That counts for something, right? "It can be our little secret." Dean's eyes narrow as Katherine smiles and starts for the car with Sam. "I'm gonna break you down like a two-by-four, bronco, you hear me?" Katherine lets out a musical laugh, tilting her head back. Sam chuckles.

"What was all that?"

"Sue Ann laid her mojo on Dean," Katherine tells him.

"Yeah--his picture was at the altar in the cellar."

Katherine nods sagely. "So there was an altar. Where'd they get a picture?"

"Surveillance cam in the tent."

Oh, right. "Bastards."

"Yeah, I know." Sam opens the back door for her and Katherine flashes him a sweet smile before lowering herself into the back of the impala.

The three of them go out that night to some bar on the state line. Katherine orders drinks on her. She wasn't ID'd. She used the stupid Dazzle.

"There is no way in Hell you'd beat me in pool," Katherine proclaims. She's shed her utility jacket, leaving her in her usual skin-tight Levis, a white eyelet tank top, and worn leather boots. She's smirking, leaning against a wooden post with crossed arms, as she stares at Dean.

"Well maybe I'd let you win."

Katherine shifts her gaze to Sam, almost gawking, and she looks back to Dean. She sticks her tongue in her cheek, glancing to the pool tables, and pushes herself away from the post, standing toe to to with Dean. "I lose, I give you that kiss?"

He smiles. "Or more. Your call."

Sam makes a noise at the back of his throat and Katherine represses a laugh. "All right, so what if you lose? What's in it for me?"

"I hadn't got that far," Dean admits.

"Uh-huh."

"I don't lose," he promises.

A small smile tugs at Katherine's lips. "We'll see about that." She grabs her pool cue.

"Ladies first," he says, sweeping his arm to the table.

"Careful, Katherine," Sam cautions, smiling a bit.

There's something off about her smile, like she knows something they don't. From the opposite side of the table, both of the brothers admire the faint smattering of moles leading down her neck and chest. Seeing their front corner of the pool deck has attracted a bit of attention, Katherine leans over to collect the rack, giving the spectators—and Winchesters—quite the view. She grabs Dean's beer from his hand, takes a long pull, and hands it back to him before lining up to take her shot.

She sinks solid first, surprising the two brothers. She makes it through another three before she barely misses the six ball.

"You just lost," Dean informs her, moving behind the cue ball. Katherine only smiles and sits up beside Sam.

"You missed that shot on purpose," Sam accuses. She smiles still.

"I like to give them hope before I close the jaws."

Sam lets out a laugh. "You're sadistic."

"It keeps me awake at night." Sam laughs again.

The audience surrounding Dean and Katherine's table cheers as Dean misses his shot—just two away from winning the game—and he glares at the lot of them. Katherine laughs, moving to her feet, and throws a wink at Sam as she moves to the table.

"I lost, did I?" She asks, brushing up against Dean as he passes. He smiles sarcastically at her. It doesn't take long for her to sink the rest of her shots and the next guy is demanding a shot with the teenager.

Sam and Dean sit together, watching the next several games unfurl before them; it doesn't take long for her to win those games, either.

"She was going easy on me, wasn't she?" Dean asks.

"I'd say elementary," Sam tells him, nodding.

"She's damn good at it."

"Well she's beautiful, so it's not hard," Sam chuckles. Dean nods in agreement.

And then another game ends.

While she waits, she strolls on over to the boys with a casual smile. "Howdy."

"How in the hell did you get so good at that?" Dean demands.

She grins. "There was a pool table in my friend's house at Yale. Party's at the pool table, right?"

"I meant the hustling," Dean says.

"Oh. Men are pretty easy." Katherine shrugs. "Flash 'em a top view and they think a whole lot with their downstairs brain and not their upstairs." She nods a few times, quickly, and grins as Sam laughs.  "Aw, why the sour face?"

"Hey, girlie!"

Katherine smiles, glancing over her shoulder at the next competitor at her table. "Duty calls." She gives the boys a two-fingered salute and spins on her heel.

Katherine bets all of the cash she won on the next game—a whopping two hundred fifty.

"I'm gonna turn in," Sam sighs, rising to his feet. Dean digs in his pocket for the keys to the impala. "You two gonna be okay?"

"Yeah, I've got my eye on her." Dean drops the keys into Sam's palm. "You take care of her."

"You just said—"

"The car, dumbass." Sam huffs and turns on his heel. He throws his hand up to Katherine and she smiles, returning the gesture before going back to her game.

By the end of her game, the bar flies love Katherine Louise a little too much.

"Is cheesecake a cake or a pie?" She asks, staring at her hands with a frown.

Dean glances to her, brows furrowed. "What?"

"Cheesecake," she repeats, looking up to him. "Is it a cake or a pie?"

After a moment, he turns to her in bewilderment. "Well it...it's cake, right? It says 'cake'."

"Well yeah, but cakes don't have crust." She raises a brow, clicks her tongue, and winks. "It's been buggin' me all day."

"Well," Dean sighs, crossing his arms. "In my mind, anything that has a crust and is filled and baked is a pie. Why is cream cheese a stipulation?" Silence hangs between the both of them. "It can be a cake, but it can't not be a pie."

Katherine laughs at his elucidation. "I guess that's a thing," she agrees, reaching for her bottle of Fat Tire.

Dean gazes at her for a moment. Just watches her, the way her arms move as she reaches forward, her lips as they adjust to the curve of the bottle. Her throat as she swallows.

"Cherry or pecan pie?" He asks her.

"Ew," she says with a grimace. "Neither."

"All right, fair enough," he acquiesces, nodding. "Apple or pumpkin?"

Katherine gently squishes her lower lip between her thumb and forefinger. "Pumpkin," she answers after a moment.

"What?!"

Katherine frowns in contemplation. "Eh. That's a draw."

"Apple all the way."

"Dude, if we're doing preferences, you can't force yours onto mine," she tells him. "Bacon or sausage?"

Dean glowers. "That's just cruel." Katherine grins. "Draw. Pasta or rice?"

She scoffs. "Pfft—
pasta. What the hell? Hamburger or hotdog?"

"Hamburger," he easily answers. "Fudge or caramel?"

"Caramel." She sips at her beer again. "Potato chips or potato salad?"

"Potato salad." Katherine smirks. She figured he'd say that. "Thunderstorms or sunshine?"

"I like both. Sunshine, I guess. I'd hate to live in Washington." She twists her bottle. "Trains or planes?"

"Trains." Katherine makes a face. "Ferris wheel or roller coaster?"

"Roller coaster," she scoffs.

"Really? Even with your height thing?"

"Well the height thing is made ten times worse when you're in a ferris wheel," she points out. Dean nods in consideration. "Wet or dry?"

Dean's eyes narrow. "What are we talkin'?"

A slow smile tugs at Katherine's lips. "The weather, you dirty bastard."

He hesitates and then frowns. "Dry," he says, but it's more like a questions. "Blonds or brunetes?"

"Oh, god." Dean smirks. "Brunetes, I guess. Smile or eyes?"

Dean sighs heavily, leaning back in his chair. Katherine grins tauntingly. "What if the eyes are beautiful when she smiles?"

Katherine raises her eyebrows, smirking still. "Then it would be smile."

"But her eyes are beautiful anyway." Katherine waits. "Draw," he huffs. "Chocolate or vanilla?"

She opens her mouth to answer and then stops. She stares. "This is a trick question."

"No it isn't."

"This isn't just about ice cream flavors, this is an innuendo. But vanilla." Dean grins. Katherine does too, but it's more mischievous, as she crosses her arms and legs. "Student or teacher?"

"Aw, hell." Katherine laughs. "Student. T-shirt or button up?"

She ponders this for a moment, pursing her lips. The five second rule is forgotten. "Am I wearing it or am I admiring someone?"

Dean considers this. "You're admiring."

Katherine blows a heavy sigh through her lips. "Damn. It's a draw. Piercings or tattoos?"

"Tattoos." Dean ponders his next series of questions carefully. "Fast-food or sit-down?"

"Depends. Generally, sit-down." Katherine takes another swig of her beer. "Uh...lust or love?" She almost corrects her question, but Dean's already answered.

"Love. Coffee or dinner?"

Her brow furrows a bit. "What?"

"If you had to choose between going for coffee or dinner—with me—which one would you pick?"

Her lips tug to the side in a soft smile, her eyes flitting about his face as she sits up. "Breakfast," she says after a moment, grabbing her beer bottle. Dean smiles when she's not looking. "I see how you lined that up," she hums. "Smooth."

"It was, wasn't it?"

"Sexy librarian or exotic dancer?"

Dean lets out a slow, heavy sigh, and she giggles. "Librarian," he answers. "Bubble bath or hot shower?"

"Bubble bath," she easily answers. She purses her lips, staring at her bottle. "Boxers or briefs? Or boxer briefs?"

"Boxer briefs." He stares at her for a moment. "Fast or slow?" Katherine's eyes flit to Dean and her brow furrows. Her heart hammers in her throat.

"What?"

"Fast or slow?" He repeats. Then she suppresses a smirk, shaking her head, and crosses her arms. "C'mon. You have to answer."

"I don't."

"Do so," he protests. "Thems the rules."

Katherine lets out a heavy sigh, tilting her head to the side a bit as her eyes narrow slightly. "I don't know," she mutters, lowering her gaze from him, and picks her bottle up again. Hiding behind it.

"Oh, come on," he scoffs. "Yeah you do." She still remains silent, a brow raising as she glances at him over the side of her beer bottle. Then it hits him in the face like a semi. "Oh my God," he says, going a bit slack-jawed.

"What?" She asks, her blue eyes widening a little bit in panic. Her cheeks are pink, and so is her chest.

"You don't know?" He repeats. "Like..." His brows shoot up. "You don't..." Katherine sighs again, dropping her forehead into her hand. "Oh, Jesus."

"What?" She asks, sitting up a bit straighter. She looks a little irritated.

"You're a virgin?"

"Oh, God—Dean—"

"How did I not know this?"

"It didn't exactly come up until now, did it?" She asks, crossing her arms.

"Well it certainly didn't occur to me," he hums, starting at Katherine with a frown.

"Could you stop looking at me like that?"

He shrugs. "Like what?"

"That," she says, gesturing to him with her hand. "Just—can we not talk about it?"

"Huh? Yeah, no—fine, fine. No more virgin talk."

"Dude."

"Sorry." He sips at his beer. Then he downs the rest of it. Well shit.

Great, Katherine sourly thinks to herself, downing the rest of her own. "I'm gonna need somethin' a little stronger, I think."

"Yeah," Dean squeaks, nodding, and stands up with her.

"I want a shot of whiskey," she tells him. "And I'll meet you at the pool table."

"Loser has to kiss the winner," he says.

And just like that, she's smiling again. The two played their worst game of pool, missing shots they both know they'd be making blind. Brief touches as they passed each other, leaning a little too close as they lined up for their shot.

But Dean lost. Even so, he stowed his cue and said, "S'all right, darlin'. Maybe another time."

So he wasn't going to kiss her.

It was a quiet drive back to the motel. Outside of her room, Katherine hesitates, pursing her lips as she looks down at her key. Then she steps sideways, towards Dean and his and Sam's room. He looks over at her, just about to twist the key in the deadbolt. She didn't lean in slow, but it was announced. She dropped her bag to the ground and stretched up onto her toes, her hands gripping either side of the buttons of his shirt.

The kiss itself was slow. He felt everything. The curve of her elbow as she leant into him, the strange material of her top against his chest. And her lips are the sweetest thing, even after the beer and the whiskey. If anything, the whiskey makes it better. Whiskey and oranges—
though that could've been the scent of her hair. He noticed when her fingers crept up the front of his shirt, around the back of his neck, and she leant in for more.

Just as their lips touched—an innocent brush, really, she pulled away with a smile and rested herself on her heels. "Guess losing twice still gets you that kiss, huh?"

"I'm persistent," he murmurs with a slight shrug. His voice definitely isn't as steady as hers is.

Smiling still, she scoops her bag up from the ground and fiddles with her key. "You can stay in my room tonight, if you wanna."