She hummed quietly as she tipped her chair back, sipping contently at the whisky in her glass. It was filled a little more than she normally would have had it, but she didn't care. It tasted beautifully after the day she'd had. She licked a few drops from her lips, her icy blue eyes watching the bar around her. Red-blonde hair tickled her cheeks from where it had slid free of its bindings, and she was sweating in her leather jacket, but she didn't care.

Her job had been a difficult mission, one she'd taken on alone as usual. It should have gone to someone who had a partner. But Alexandriana Montgomery, or Alex to very few who knew of her, was alone. She rather disliked working with other people, as usually when she did so they ended up trying to kill her.

The door opened and closed and Alex's shoulders tightened as two men came in. Both were dressed formally, in trim black suits. She eyed them suspiciously. Feds…?

No, she realized, looking at their cautious faces as they held up badges to the bartender. They weren't FBI. They were hunters like her, making it their goal in life to take down as many things that went bump in the night as they could before they went down swinging. They were both stressed and exhausted; a tough job, then, she understood. She'd worn that face, too.

The shorter of the two said something her sensitive ears missed and the bartender nodded, pointing in her direction. She grimaced. She shouldn't have flirted with him while trying to get answers the day before. The one that had spoken looked her way instantly while his friend, who was ridiculously tall, nudged him and thanked the bartender. The two made their way over and Alex readied herself for the confrontation.

Just because they were here didn't mean they were after her. For all she knew they'd been chasing the same job she'd been finishing up. She lifted her chin proudly when they stopped before her. "Hullo," she said, letting her British accent sharpen in warning. "Can I help you? You do realize it's not necessary to parade around as American feds when asking for information, yes?"

The taller one narrowed his dark eyes, brow furrowed. "We're FBI-"

Alex snorted. "And I'm prime minister of my country." They looked startled. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table after setting her drink aside. She narrowed her eyes, letting her sharp blue gaze rest coldly on the shorter of the two, who was giving her just as suspicious a look as she was giving them. "I recognize other hunters when I see them. Do I look like a bloody idiot?"

"You're a hunter?" he said warily. He examined her closely. He didn't look as if he believed her. Alex rolled her eyes. Didn't they have female hunters in America…?

"Yes," she said, slowly saying her next few words with a smirk. "Do you need proof? Sit down and get talking so we can get this conversation over with. If you were here about the ghost that was killing women who'd broken off engagements...Lauren Maxon, I believe? She's been salted and burned already. No need for you to stay here in town." She paused. She needed to be friendlier, if only to keep them off of her trail. "I'm Alex, by the way."

The tall one, who resembled a moose in a weird way, enveloped her slim hand in his when she extended it, shaking firmly. "I'm Sam Winchester. This is my brother, Dean. And no, we're not after her. We figured it had already been dealt with when we got here and heard about the cemetery being dug up."

Alex grinned, examining her nails. "That was me. I broke a nail doing it." Careful, she had to be careful! They'd figure it out if she wasn't. She'd been through enough moments in which that happened to know better. She lifted her gaze quietly. "So...if you're not here about the ghost, what are you hear about?"

The shorter one - Dean - finally spoke, voice gruff. And quite sexy, if she was being honest. Her attention caught, Alex watched him with interest as he said, "We're here about what we think might be something we've never seen before." She cocked her head a little, waiting. "There's a dog. We've noticed it appearing near these parts of the US every time something starts killing someone."

She lost her smile.

"Do you know something?" By the look in his eyes, he knew she did. The way his gaze searched hers, she knew he knew that she had something to do with it. Likely because of her eyes. Not just anyone had eyes as brightly blue as hers. Influenced by what she was, she supposed. They'd been darker when she was younger.

"No," she lied. She rested her chin in her open palm. "I haven't seen any dogs around my hunting grounds recently." She gave her most charming smile.

"You're sure you don't know anything?" Dean persisted, glaring a little, and she leveled him with a glare of her own. Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and gave an exasperated sigh, muttering an apology under his breath that Alex wasn't sure she was supposed to hear.

So much for Mr. Sexy. He was an ass. "Yes," she said coldly, reaching for her drink. Bloody bastard. "I'm positive. Now faff off, twat." He paused, bewildered by her insults, and she smirked as she sipped at the alcohol. "I don't know anything."

"Liar," he quipped.

Sam groaned as she smacked her hands on the table and just narrowly kept her voice from dropping into a growl. "I'm not. I didn't do anything, nor do I know about anything in terms of this...obsession with the dog you have." She bit back the urge to bare her teeth.

Sam shoved his brother hard enough that Dean nearly stumbled out of his chair. "Go and get us some drinks, Dean. I'll talk with her." Sam watched as Dean scowled, but left to do just that. When he was gone, he said, "Sorry about him. We've had a rough time lately."

Alex had the feeling that "rough time" didn't even begin to cover it, but instead said, "Why are you so interested in this dog obsession?"

Sam shrugged, giving her an odd look, and she grimaced; she was acting too suspicious. "Aren't you? I mean, this dog shows up everywhere. It's...it's like some kind of specter that creates death where it goes."

Alex kept her expression neutral, offended. She did not. "It's just a dog."

"A dog who shows up," Dean snapped smugly as he appeared, lacking beers. He held a phone in his hand, and his green eyes glittered with barely contained malice. "Everywhere a monster does. I'm tellin' you, Sammy, she's lying. Just talked to Bobby." Sam sputtered. "She's been everywhere the dog's been. So, sweetheart," he continued with a drawling tone, leaning in with a malicious look, "what aren't you telling us?"

Alex took a very long moment to think over her answer. She understood their feelings as Sam turned a wary look on her. She would have been suspicious, too. So she sucked in a deep breath and trailed her fingers over the blade hidden at the crease of her arm. Its presence was a comfort. "Why don't we take this outside," she said quietly, "so that you don't frighten the people in here?"

Dean's hand traced something at the small of his back. A hidden gun, Alex guessed, with the bullets that could likely kill her if need be. Sam stopped him with a quick jab, a tight forced smile on his face as he stood, turning to leave. "Dean," he said quietly, "do you want to get the police called on us? They know our faces here."

Dean's jaw worked furiously for a few moments before he jerked his chin towards Alex. "Let's go. I don't have time to waste right now."

Her slim brows rose. Oh? There was a story there. She knew it.

She trailed after them, aware that they were ready to spring into violent action if need be. She followed them through the doors and around a corner into the alley beside the tavern before her hand came to rest at the crease of her elbow. She wrapped her fingers around the blade hidden there, the pitch black metal glinting dully in the light of the day. Its hilt sparkled with glowing white symbols. She couldn't even read them, and she was multi-lingual.

"What the hell is that?" Dean said, bewildered when he turned to find it resting easily at her flesh. Sam's hand darted anxiously for something in his pocket, but Alex dropped her fingers away, holding her hands up in surrender.

"Kill me," she said quietly, unable to keep the growl from her throat, "and you'll be killing an innocent."

"What's going on here?" Sam asked patiently even as Dean glared viciously at her.

Alex cleared her throat, narrowing her blue eyes. It wasn't as if they didn't know she wasn't human. "I'm a skinwalker," she said finally. "S'why I've been everywhere that the dog has been. It's me - I'm the dog. I have stronger senses in this form than most humans, but that one's sense of smell and hearing is amazing. I use it to sniff out what I'm hunting. It gets me ahead of the game."

Dean gave her a long look before chortling almost sarcastically and earning himself a brittle glare. "Skinwalkers killing monsters and others of its kind? Yeah, right."

Alex gave him a sweet smile and promptly replied, "Why don't you sod off, you pretentious twat?" He paused, looking somewhat confused at the terms she'd used. She rolled her eyes. "You think I chose to be what I am? I've got my reasons for being both a skinwalker and a hunter, just like you do. Now you listen to me. I live this life because I chose to be different than the others that end up like me. I chose to use my curse to save lives, not destroy them."

Sam seemed to be okay with her explanation, but Dean continued to look suspicious. "What's with the blade?" Sam finally asked.

"This?" Alex patted her arm, letting it materialize before vanishing again. "I don't really know. I found it on the side of the road back in England. It was interesting, so I kept it, and it looks like it can kill just about anything and everything, so it's a bonus. Now. Are you done questioning me? I have some whiskey to get back to."

Dean didn't tear his gaze off of her for an instant. "Have you ever bitten anyone?"

"...no," she said slowly. "Not on purpose or anyone human. There was a girl who'd been possessed that I bit before the demon left her host. She was ten or so. I couldn't save her. I was new to hunting then."

It seemed he finally dubbed her safe, because he finally just huffed and folded his arms. He glared at his brother when Sam told her they were sorry for bothering her. "Since we're done here," Alex said finally, irritated. She wanted to finish her damn alcohol! "Can I go?"

"Hold on." Sam searched his pockets and then yanked a pad of paper out. He scribbled something onto a piece of paper and then ripped it out. "Here. Our numbers in case you ever need something."

"Sam," Dean barked irritably, furious with his brother for giving out his number in such a way.

Alex smirked at him and then tucked into her pocket. "Thanks. I'd return the favor, but I wouldn't." Dean looked beyond puzzled by what she'd said. "And don't worry," she called as she turned to leave, "I get it. If I kill anyone, I'm on the hit list." She said nothing more as she headed back to where her drink awaited.

She was going to buy herself an entire apple pie - simply for coming out of the confrontation alive.

"Bloody hell!" Alex snarled under her breath as she limped for the front door of a house she'd invaded. There was blood staining her shirt. She'd nearly been caught, but she'd managed to escape and for that reason and that reason alone, she was grateful.

And ready to leave.

It had been nearly three weeks since her run in with Sam and Dean Winchester, and she was grateful to find that she'd had enough luck to not run into them again. She'd swept the interaction under the rug, so to say. It was one of many.

Alex twirled her blade, ready to plunge it into the first thing she came across. She was ready. She'd accidentally woken up the entire flock of them when she'd dropped her blade after tripping over a mound of clothes and had gotten through beheading four of them before the fifth had disappeared, and she was wary about the fact that it still hadn't come after her.

Her blue eyes darted this way and that as she reached the front door, her fingers curling around the doorknob-

A noise caught her attention and she whirled, gloved fingers grabbing a silver blade at her hip. She hurled it just a brief moment before a gunshot rang out and Alex shrieked in pain when heat blasted through her shoulder. She collapsed to her knees, dropping her black weapon and pressing her hand to her shoulder. "Bloody hell-"

"Whoops," a voice she knew distantly mused, and her gaze snapped up to find an almost amused Dean Winchester standing there, gun lowered, but still at the ready. "Look who it is. Don't you know better than to get in the way, puppy?"

And there goes my bloody luck.

She bared her teeth, knowing they were sharper than normal. "You bloody twat, you shot me!"

"Really?" he drawled, "I didn't notice." He narrowed his eyes as she climbed to her feet, his green gaze never leaving her even as he kept his attention elsewhere, ready to fight if need be. "The hell are you doing here? This is our job."

"Same as you," she snarled, "I was hunting vampires. Bloody hell-" Her hand trembled. Silver bullet. She could feel it burning her muscles and bones. "Do you just shoot everything you see? Where's your brother?"

"He came around back. How many are in here?" A true hunter - she hoped, at least - who could disassociate himself from the fact that he clearly disliked her and focus on the more important situation at hand.

"Killed four," she reported, ignoring the feeling of blood leaking through her fingers. She grimaced, pressing her lips together in pain before suddenly jerking her blade up, ignoring the agonizing pain in her shoulder in favor of preparing for the incoming vampire that suddenly slammed into Dean from behind, teeth snapping at his neck. She didn't hesitate to throw her blade, watching as it struck with the aim of years of practice.

Dean yanked it free, using it to behead the creature before tossing it back as he shouted, "Sammy!" He didn't bother to be quiet; they'd all ready been found out, after all. There was no response. "Sam!" he tried again.

"That's not good," Alex mused, earning a dark look for her commentary.

Despite their irritation with one another, the two chose to ignore their animosity towards one another and proceeded further into the house. Alex waved at an open door that led to a wine cellar and began to descend into it, her eyes adjusting with ease to the darkness. Dean shoved past her when he saw his brother sprawled out amongst the debris of a shelf near the bottom of the stairs, slowly coming to after being knocked out.

"Sam," he said, smacking his cheeks gently to wake him up a bit more.

Sam blinked, looking dazed. He squinted at his brother. "Dean," he rasped, then frowned when he saw the shape of Alex nearby. He opened his mouth to shout a warning, and Alex cut in smoothly.

"Nice to see you, too, Mr. Moose," she drawled. She supposed it took him a moment to remember who she was, because he didn't respond until understanding dawned in his eyes after he'd been hauled to his feet.

"Alex," he remembered finally. "You're a skinwalker."

She snorted. "Someone hit his head a little too hard."

"Leave him alone, he's done more than you," Dean said, sounding rather childish in his weak attempt to insult her.

Alex grinned and wiggled her fingers mockingly. "I'll have you know that I've beheaded precisely - oof!" She cut off with a yelped cry when something flew down the stairs and barreled her right into the debris they'd just freed Sam from. She shouted, lashing out with her blade and using her other arm - even as its shoulder screamed in protest - to fend off the vampire with sharp pointy teeth.

She barely heard the others who were under attack, noting how Dean bellowed in rage when he was slammed into the ground. She lashed out with her blade again, the black metal glinting as it finally caught the vampire's throat. The vampire reared back with a scream - and then fell silent as Alex slashed, its head tumbling to the ground nearby.

Alex gave herself a moment, and then shoved the body off of her, heaving for air. Her body quivered with pained exhaustion as she rested there for the briefest of moments. After a few minutes, the air fell silent. She arched a brow when a staggering Sam appeared, peering down at her with surprising concern. "Are you alright?"

Her lips quirked. "Yeah. I'm fine. Thanks for asking. I mean, other than being shot by the twat moaning over a bruise." She jabbed a finger in the direction of where she could hear Dean groaning as he climbed to his feet. She accepted Sam's help when he offered a hand, letting him pull her upright. She brushed herself off. "You guys are just buckets of fun, aren't you?"

Sam grinned despite the blood on his face and said, "Guess so." He frowned when she touched her shoulder. "You were shot?"

"Your brother," Alex grumbled, eyes flickering with irritation now. "We frightened one another and he decided to shoot me because of it." She ignored the pain and the shock on Sam's face, plunging her finger into the bullet wound to fish for the bullet. Her body shuddered as she pulled it out and threw it down with a curse, flinching when she felt the pain of burned fingers.

"Really?" she muttered. "Silver?"

Sam shrugged. "We alternate. He had silver, I had iron."

"If you're done chatting like a couple of old people," Dean said crabbily, "I'm gonna go and get Baby. Don't let her out of your sight, Sammy." He glared at Alex irritably, narrowing his eyes into slits. "I don't trust her."

And then he strutted off, leaving Sam and Alex alone in the basement of a house that was now full of dead vampires. They exchanged awkward looks as Dean stormed up the basement stairs, and then slowly followed him up. "I guess you're coming with us?" Sam muttered, puzzled.

"I guess so?" Alex replied, uncertain. She faltered in the living room of the house, studying the heads just laying around as she lined her blade up with her forearm and tucked it away. Sam watched curiously but said nothing, instead leading the way out of the house itself.

Dean was all ready waiting in a car by the time they'd left, the sleek black '67 Impala catching Alex's eye. Her eyes rounded and she grinned, muttering under her breath, "Ooh, now that's a car I would steal and keep forever."

Sam wisely told her, "Do that, and Dean really will shoot you in the head."

"I don't understand why I'm still here," Alex said, grimacing as she touched her shoulder. It would heal within the next day or two, but for now...it hurt like hell. She glanced over at where Dean was working on patching up a nasty gash on his forearm. Nearby, Sam was merely plucking splinters out of his hands.

"Because you miraculously showed up where there was these things that go bump in the night after we caught you last week," Dean said with exaggerated patience, mocking her without so much as an insult. She snarled at him, baring her teeth. "I don't trust you. For all we know, you could be convincing them to go after innocent people."

"Yes," Alex said sarcastically, "because I have that much power over the supernatural creatures of the world. Do you believe this?" she demanded, looking at Sam.

He paused in plucking splinters to say, "I don't care either way, honestly. If you tag along, we have another set of hands, which could be useful."

"Tag along?" she sputtered. "I'm not working with you bloody twats!"

"Then I guess we'll just end you here and now and deal with the problem."

Alex whirled on Dean with a snap of her jaws. "I will tear your throat out," she snarled, "if you even try."

"I thought you didn't attack humans?" he retorted.

"Really, Dean?" Sam said, exasperated. He threw his hands up, and Alex snickered when he sputtered, his own blood dripping onto his face. "Ugh." He wiped it away and then told her honestly, "Ignore him, he's being a dick."

She paused in muttering insults under her breath to throw Sam an aggressive look. He didn't seem at all bothered by it; she didn't think Sam was too bad a person for the time being. He just...didn't understand why she was so frustrated. It was a nuisance to find yourself in a situation you couldn't figure a good way out of. In all reality, she could have walked out the door and neither man could have stopped her, but…

At the same time…

She was intrigued.

Intrigued by the hunters, who knew what she was, and had yet to behead her or put a bullet through her eye. She watched them out of the corner of her eye as she nursed her shoulder with a pout. She kept her fingers in close range of her blade at all times, but didn't think they'd suddenly whip a weapon out and kill her without warning.

Because despite all of Dean's cranky comments, she didn't think he thought she was a bad person.

Which was a miracle.

Because she was, by definition, a monster. In every way, shape, and form, Alex Montgomery was a monster.

So the idea that these people put up with her without intending to kill her...perhaps because they saw themselves as more monstrous than she was…

Alex was intrigued.

And suddenly, tagging along didn't seem like such a bad idea.

Rewrite of the first chapter! :)