Dean Winchester sat at a bar in a town just outside of Seattle. He and Sam had just taken out a werewolf, and after a long day and several hours of driving they needed a break. Sam opted to stay at the motel, but Dean was looking to unwind. He watched the people around him as he drank his beer. He had options tonight. Lots of gorgeous, single ladies. One in particular drew his attention. She was brunette, and she sat alone at a corner table in the back of the bar. He grabbed his beer as he stepped down from the bar stool. As he got closer to her he saw her relaxed posture. She was leaning back, legs crossed, one arm on the table with her hand wrapped around a beer bottle. She had her eyes on the room and they never wavered as he sat down across from her.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing alone in a dark corner?" She continued to stare out into the bar as if he wasn't even there. "Cat got your tongue?"

"Not interested," she said, her eyes never looking in his direction.

"Ah, she speaks... Can I get you another beer?"

"What part of 'not interested' don't you understand?"

"The part where you haven't even looked at me to know if I'm interesting or not," he said, trying to get a laugh, or a smile... something.

"Saw you at the bar. Not interested."

Dean's face fell a little. He rarely got a flat out rejection. His pride was more than a little bruised.

"Well, something's got you interested," he pointed out as she continued to stare into the crowded bar. "You wanna share?"

"Not really." Her posture straightened and she stood from her chair, finally looking at Dean. "There's a blonde over there who's been sizing you up since you got here. Maybe you should try getting into her pants instead of mine." She walked out of the bar without even a backward glance.

Dean turned to get a look at the blonde she pointed out. She smiled at him from across the room, and he nodded back with a big toothy grin. He turned back to the table as he stood, and the little bit of light in the corner reflected off of the beer bottle the brunette had left behind, catching his attention. He lifted the bottle. It was full.

He glanced around the bar, trying to see if he could figure out what held her attention. He couldn't.

"Weird girl."

He put the bottle back on the table and headed over to the blonde. He wouldn't let it ruin his night.

Dean stumbled into the motel room around 3:00 am. He kicked off his shoes and laid down on top of the covers, falling asleep with a satisfied smile on his face. Sam woke him up the next morning.

"I got a call from Bobby. A friend of his was tracking a djinn in the area. Told Bobby he'd call and he hasn't."

"So, what, Bobby wants us to find him?"

"Yeah."

"Great." He dragged himself out of bed. "Let me grab a shower first. Had a late night."

Sam filled Dean in on the details as they drove to the address Bobby gave them. Alan, Bobby's hunter friend, was headed to an abandoned warehouse a couple of hours outside of town. When they arrived they went to the trunk. Each of them dipped a silver knife in lamb's blood.

"Ready?" Dean asked.

"Ready."

They made their way through the empty halls of the warehouse, checking the rooms as they went. They exchanged looks when they heard grunting. It sounded like a woman's voice. They picked up their pace as they headed toward the sound. It grew louder as they approached a large double door. They burst through to find a woman standing over a body on the floor. She quickly spun around toward them and Dean's eyes widened.

"You..."

"Sorry, boys. Looks like you missed this one."

Dean watched as the brunette from the bar walked toward them. She was wearing a green top under a form-fitting leather jacket, dark blue jeans and boots. The knife in her hand was covered in blood. Sam was still on guard, knife at the ready. His eyes darted between Dean and the girl.

"You're a hunter?" Dean asked.

"Yeah," she said in a tone that suggested it should be obvious.

Sam lowered his knife a little. "You know her?"

"I ran into her last night at the bar."

"No, you hit on me last night at the bar."

"You were tracking it last night, weren't you?"

She nodded. "It was the bartender."

"Dean," Sam interrupted, "we have to find Alan."

"Right," Dean said, turning back to the girl. "You see anyone around here other than the djinn?"

"There are a couple of people in the other room."

"Alive?"

"Hard to tell. Follow me."

They found Alan hanging by his tied wrists, a needle in his neck drawing blood into a bag. The bag looked dry. Sam put his fingers against Alan's neck.

"He's dead."

Dean made his way to the other guy hanging in the same way as Alan. Dean felt a pulse.

"This one's alive."

"I'll call in an anonymous tip when I'm out of town," said the brunette.

"You're just gonna leave them here?" Dean asked.

"I can't help these guys anymore. The cops will come with EMT's."

"We don't work that way, sweetheart. We're gonna get this guy to a hospital and give Alan a hunter's funeral."

"Suit yourselves."

As Sam and Dean worked to cut the men down, the girl left. By the time they were done, she was nowhere in sight.

They dropped the injured man off at the entrance to the nearest emergency room. A quick call to Bobby gave them the okay to go ahead with a hunter's funeral for Alan. As they cleaned up, Sam started asking about the girl.

"Did you get her name?"

"Nope."

"That's not the girl you hooked up with last night."

"No."

"But she said you hit on her."

Dean was quiet as he packed up the trunk.

"Dean..."

"What?"

"Did she turn you down?"

"Shut up. She was working. Other circumstances, she'd have said yes."

He slammed the trunk and got behind the wheel, starting the car. Sam couldn't suppress the grin on his face. Dean's ego made him a little obnoxious sometimes, especially when it came to women. Sam couldn't help but feel proud of the girl who turned him down... whatever her reason may have been.