Chapter 1

She stared at the two young men across the crowded bar, one sitting in the corner with a laptop, mindlessly picking away at the keys, and nursing the same beer for an hour now. The other was a little more lively, hustling pool in the corner like he was some kind of Fast Eddie, and downing the beers as fast as the waitress could bring them. He'd win some, then lose one, then win a few more, just to make it look good. She knew what he was doing though, she'd been following them for weeks.

The smart one, she knew him. She'd seen him at Stanford. She also decided she'd taken a liking to him. One small problem though, he had a girlfriend. That didn't really matter though, there were ways around that, and he'd never know. The girlfriend, she was beautiful. She could see spending the next forty or fifty years as a beautiful blonde woman, with a tall, handsome man at her side. She'd planned it all out, following her mark for weeks, watching her mannerisms, body language, speech patterns. It was all too easy.

Then the other one showed up, and he'd left with him, leaving blondie to herself. They took off in that old, black, piece of crap car, to god knew where. It was perfect, because that left her alone, and vulnerable. She could make her move, and he'd never know. She'd be there when he got back, none the wiser.

She'd been ready to move in for the kill when it happened. Blondie had been in their tiny closet apartment, ready to shower. She snuck in, leaving her note and treat on the table. Taking a clump of hair from blondie's brush on the dresser, she stashed it in her pocket, then waited. That was when she felt the presence in the room. It was evil, and it make her cringe. She hid in a corner, watching in awe at what happened next.

The man had stood at the foot of the bed, waiting for her to come out from the bathroom. When she did, he pounced like a cat. With the turn of his hand, and a flick of his wrist, he propelled blondie up to the ceiling, as that god awful car came roaring up the street. She heard a car door slam, footsteps, the door opening, the rattling of keys, and his voice.

"Jess, you home?"

He'd grabbed her treat from off the table, seeing the smile on his face as he ate, and watched him drop down onto the bed. The droplets of blood that landed on his face caught his attention, and as he looked up, was horror-struck to see his beloved plastered to the ceiling, and bursting into flames.

Then, the other one showed up, screaming his name.

"SAM!"

Grabbing him and dragging him out of the blaze, she snuck out right behind, unnoticed by either of them. She knew the situation had been ruined. How was she supposed to take the place of a dead girl. Well, she would have been a dead girl, but only she would have known that. Now, things would be much more difficult. It didn't matter to her, she would figure out a way. What was important was that Jess was gone, and she wasn't coming back. She had what she needed to become her, thankfully pocketing it before the fire. She'd just have to wait, that's all.

She didn't realize she'd have to wait so long though. The funeral had been quick. They'd had her buried in a matter of days. It was easy, since there was almost nothing left of her. But he disappeared, her Sam. Took off in that monstrosity of a vehicle with that other one, the one now playing pool. It took her a long time to find out who that other one was, totally shocked to know it was a brother. His brother.

Not only did it take a long time to find out who the brother was, it took a long time to track them both down. She finally found them in St. Louis, where the news reports had said the other one was dead. But here he was, standing right in front of her, and playing pool no less. She'd done some investigating of her own. She knew what really happened in St. Louis. The brother was a killer of her kind, but it didn't matter. All she wanted was the other, all she wanted was her Sam. So she watched, and waited. She followed them from St. Louis, to Iowa, to Oklahoma, to Lawrence, Kansas, then on to Rockford. She could feel his pain then, the form she'd taken drinking every part of him in. First, the mother he couldn't remember, then the brother he'd almost killed. Her heart bled for him, she loved him that much. She had to have him, had to be with him. She'd become a part of him. Sitting there in that bar in Rockford, she knew it was now or never.

"Eight ball, side pocket," Dean announced as he hit the white ball into the black, sinking it instantly.

"You're a hustler. I'm not stupid. I'm gonna kick your ass 'til the sun comes up, and when you're dead, I'm gonna kick it some more, just to make me feel good."

"Dude, you ever take anger management classes? I think you may need them."

Sam knew when his brother was in trouble. He'd been playing for hours, finally pissing someone off. That must be a new record for him. He usually pissed people off right away.

"Excuse me, is there a problem here?" Sam asked, in his most authoritative tone.

"No problem that a good steel-toed boot to the face won't cure," Dean's opponent stated, as a matter of fact.

Sam's attempt at diffusing the situation totally failing, he was ready to resort to physical violence, when the very familiar, hot, young, blonde stepped in.

"Can I help?"

Sam took one look at her, and almost dropped to his knees, his hand on the pool table the only thing stopping him from shorting out completely.

"Jess?"

It was all he could say.