Jesse Turner sensed another presence. A presence like him.

It wasn't like the people milling about on the boardwalk with him. The… Humans. Their auras were bland, and most of them put off very little power. It wasn't like a person.

It was like him. A Cambion.

Jesse frowned and increased his pace. As far as he knew, he was the only Cambion in existence. When had another one come into existence? Why hadn't he felt it?

Before he could think of an answer, the world spun away from him.

In the emptiness that exists in transporting from one place to another simultaneously, Jesse felt soft, warm lips press to his ear. A cool, low voice with a lovely English accent spoke.

"I'm so sorry, Jesse. If I could, I would change this. I will make sure you go to heaven, dear."

There was a sharp crack, a flash of horrid pain, and then nothing but a white, bright light.

xxxxx

Dean Winchester walked into the liquor store irritated.

He was irritated at Sam, he was irritated at the angels, he was irritated at demons, and he was irritated at himself. He wanted a bottle of whiskey, maybe two, and a motel room by himself, and maybe a pretty blonde to keep him company.

And he saw her as soon as he took a look around.

She was short and curvy, pretty much perfect. She had long blonde hair that spilled down her back in curls. She was wearing tall black boots, tight jeans, and a black peacoat. She was looking at wines. Dean grinned. Classy.

He approached her, trying to be casual, looking around at the selections. He noticed her looking at him out of the corner of her eye, and he grinned. He finally stood next to her.

"Hey."

She turned and smiled at him, her green eyes sparkling at him. "Hi," she said softly, a pretty English accent rolling off of her lips.

"Name's Dean."

"Nice to meet you, Dean," she lilted. The way his name sounded on her tongue made him want to hear her crying it out beneath him.

He smirked, thought about his angle, then decided on simple. He was too fried for anything else. "You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

Her smile shone up at him. "I have a feeling you're exaggerating, sir."

He shook his head. "No, no, I'm not. Trust me, sweetheart, I've seen a lot, and you're definitely the prettiest."

Her smile turned smug. "You have quite a way with words."

He grinned. "I'm pretty good with a lot of things."

A pretty blonde eyebrow cocked up. "Is that so?"

He leaned toward her. "If you tell me your name, I can show you what they are."

She seemed to look at him for a long time, and whatever she saw there brought him out on top.

"Zoey. My name is Zoey."

xxxxx

Her hot little hand palming him through his jeans had Dean's knuckles turning white on the steering wheel. Her lips pressed against his ear and he could feel her smile. "Tell me you want me, Dean," she breathed.

He tilted his head back, a little dizzy. "Fuck, yes, baby, holy fuck, I want you."

Her low chuckle made his eyes drift closed before he remembered he was driving. "Oh, shit, baby, you're gonna kill us."

She hummed against his neck and pressed her hand against him again. "But what a way to go," she said softly.

He pulled into the motel and shot out of the Impala as fast as he could. Before she could get out, he was opening her door and pulling her out. He tossed her over his shoulder, savoring her tinkling laugh. "Dean, you Neanderthal," she scolded, leaning forward to nip at the small of his back.

He shuddered and opened the door after a moment of struggling against it, and against the blood rushing away from his head.

As soon as the door was shut, he dropped her to her feet, keeping her close so she slid down her front. Fuck.

He pressed her up against the wall, kissing her hard. She was incredibly responsive, pressing into him, her hands fisting in his shirt. She moaned into his mouth, and when he nipped at her bottom lip, she opened for him. He couldn't stop the groan into her mouth when he tasted her, like strawberries and wine.

She whimpered and tilted her head back, and he took the opportunity to kiss her neck gently.

"Oh, fuck," she said softly, her accent making him want her even more. "You were correct," she breathed out, "you're very, very good at this, Dean Winchester."

All of the blood rushed back into Dean's brain, and he felt the lust completely clear away. He kept her pinned to the wall, but slowly raised his head.

She looked up at him, all wide green eyes and wild blonde hair, and he felt a real pang of regret that he couldn't take her there tonight.

"Don't recall giving you my last name," he drawled.

She smiled, the heat never leaving her eyes. "Oh, darn," she said nonchalantly. "I was hoping this would last longer."

The woman in his arms changed completely, and he blinked. The curves became almost nonexistent, although her height stayed the same. Her hair was suddenly in a choppy cut that ended at her chin, and was an absolutely radioactive pink color. Her eyes, however, stayed the same, shining green. Of course, now there was amusement and something darker there instead of lust.

"Hi, Dean Winchester," she said softly. The accent stayed, too. "My name really is Zoey, by the way. Zoey Crane."

He frowned, but before he could say anything, he found himself being tossed across the room.

She tilted her head and smiled down at him on the floor. "And I'm here to save your ass."

xxxxx

Hi everyone! Here's my notes:
I own only Zoey Crane, the original character. I don't own Supernatural or the characters. (heartbroken)
Reviews and comments give me the warm fuzzies and keep me going.
If there are any mistakes in continuity, canon, or geography, blame me.
**Let me know what you think! If you guys are intrigued, I'll keep it up. If you're not, I'll probably still write it, but you just won't read it. 3 Thank you for giving me yet another chance, beautiful readers.