Supernatural Fan Fic - Part 3

Part 3 of 3



Ronnie was walking with Gallahad along the far side of the bog when the dog stopped abruptly, cocking his head as he stared out into the night.

"Hello, Veronica."

Ronnie spun around, her Glock already in hand. When she saw Castiel, she swore under her breath. "Castiel. It has not been nearly long enough."

"You are angry. I am sorry."

"You think? Why are you here? Wait, never mind. I don’t care. And tell your angel friends to keep their little presents from now on."

"They are in good hands with you, Veronica. They can help you."

"Oh no," she protested. "No way. I keep those things around, and I will learn what they do. I do that, I know you will send me on some sort of god-forsaken quest. I just want to be left alone. I won’t make deals with the demons, so I certainly won’t make one with you guys either."

"You haven’t been given anything you aren’t trusted to handle."

She snorted. "Then I just wish God didn’t trust me so much."

Castiel sighed. "We could use your help. You came back for a reason. Please reconsider."

And he was gone.




Dean walked up to Billy in the store. "You see Ronnie lately?"

Billy clicked a pen against the counter. "Out back. Just follow the loud music."

Dean paused. "Is it safe?"

Billy looked at him. "Can you tell what’s playing?"

Dean cocked his head. "CCR."

Billy chuckled. "Yeah, you’re safe. Tread carefully if its Bob Segar though."

Dean entered the pole barn doubling as Ronnie’s garage out behind the house. Loud notes of Creedence Clearwater Revival hung in the air as he walked in. Ronnie had her Jeep up on a lift, finishing an oil change. Various car parts and fenders, most of them dented into oblivion, lined the shop table and along the wall.

"Hey, Ronnie."

"Dean." She never looked back at him.

He fought back an invisible chill. "Do you have an air compressor I can use? One of my tires is getting a little low."

"Help yourself. Pull on in here. Hose is along the wall there."

Dean watched her a moment.

"Was there something else?"

He paused a beat. "Why a Jeep?"

She smiled. "Because I can order all my parts off the internet and no one looks sideways. It’s like a big toy set."

He turned to leave, pausing as he saw a car with covered with a dustcloth. "What’s this?"

Ronnie followed his gaze. "That’s my grandmother’s grocery getter."

Dean picked up the corner of the cloth and peeked beneath it. "That’s a GTO. Your grandma got groceries in that?"

Ronnie smiled. "Fastest milk run in the county. Makes hyperspace look like a cake walk."

Dean stared at her. "She runs?"

Ronnie walked past him, wiping her hands clean on a rag. "Leroy runs."

Dean gave her a look of disbelief.  "You named her Leroy?"

She snorted and pointed inside. "Stick shift. It’s been awhile, but I’m pretty sure boys still come with sticks."



　

　

Dean entered the living room to find Sam pacing the floor.

"What’s up with you?"

"I’ve been doing a little digging. You know Ronnie owns the hardware store, but I’ve found she also holds a P.I. license. And there’s more. Ronnie said she had an accident, except it was no accident. She was attacked."

"What?"

"Two years ago she was attacked in here in the house by three men. She went missing for months. Medical reports indicate it was brutal. She dug herself out of a shallow grave, drug herself to the highway. And there’s more."

"More?"

Sam nodded. "Her attackers videotaped the entire thing. It’s been making the rounds via the internet for months now."

Dean rubbed his eyes. "Ok. How bad is it?"

"As bad as it gets. She spent three weeks in ICU."

"Tell me the police arrested somebody."

Sam shook his head. "Not enough evidence. Three against one, and they were saying things were..."

Dean swore under his breath. "Right. Do we know who?"

Sam cleared his throat. "I saw part of the video. It looks like the three guys from the store yesterday."

Dean opened the laptop and began to watch the video. After two minutes, he turned the sound off. When it was over, it took all he had not to throw the laptop across the room.

"What kind of sick bastard records something like that?"

Sam shook his head. "I don’t know."

"Do me a favor. Bobby doesn’t see this."




Ronnie entered the room, but was brought up short when she saw the look on the three men's faces.

"Okay," she said slowly. "What’s up?"

Then she saw the laptop.

"Anything good on the internet today?" she said lightly.

"Not really," Dean answered.

She nodded in understanding. "You found the video. Great. Here I was kinda hoping that there were at least a few people in town that hadn’t seen me naked yet."

"Ronnie-" Bobby began.

"Look," she shot out. "Don’t you dare feel sorry for me, Bobby. Don’t you dare. okay? I’m still standing. I can deal with this. Plus there is the bigger issue of a hell’s gate in my backyard, which makes my piddly problems seem like a drop in the bucket. Can we deal with the bigger issue here?"

Bobby took in the stubborn look in her eyes and sighed. "I hate it when you’re right."

"Yeah, well, I usually am. Get used to it."



　

Ronnie shook her head as Dean poked his head into the backroom of the hardware store.

"I don’t need a bodyguard."

"Good. I’m not playing one. Is there a car part shop here in town?"

"The hardware store usually doubles as one for the locals. What do you need?"

"My car. It’s a classic. I usually go to Bobby, but since he’s here…"

She snorted. "Again, what do you need?" She headed deeper into the back.

"Oil filter. You just can’t walk into any old store and find-"

"’67 Impala, right?" she asked, checking the shelves. "And you’re right. It is a classic, but I think I have some things here ... yep.  Here you go." She pulled a box out and tossed it to him, along with a case of oil, an oil wrench and a drip pan.

At his puzzled look, she snorted. "Who do you think finds this stuff for Bobby, anyway?"

"He has a guy?"

"Congratulations. Bobby’s guy has boobs." Her gaze flickered to something behind him. "Crap."

"What? Hey – where are you going?" he sputtered as she sprinted past him. She was weaving between the massive shelves stretching the length of the warehouse, darting from aisle to aisle nearly soundlessly.

"Ronnie!" Dean hissed, setting the boxes down, and taking off after her. 

Dean heard a soft shuffle to his left and an instant later he felt the prickle of awareness. They were not alone in the warehouse. Muttering under his breath, he drew his gun out from under his jacket.

Ahead he caught a glimpse of her, and aisle over and ahead of him. He also saw a faint gleam of metal. She was armed. Where the hell did she pull that gun from? She’s wearing coveralls, for pete’s sake.

Again, a shuffle of footsteps up ahead. He pressed forward, wondering just how far back the warehouse went. It seemed endless. An endless maze of metal shelves and boxes. Followed by boxes and shelves. He skidded to an abrupt halt at the top of a short set of steps.

At the base of the steps stood Ronnie, aiming her Glock directly at him.

"Whoa, Ronnie," he said softly. "Put the gun down."

She shook her head. "Can’t do that, Dean."

"Sure you can. No one need to get hurt here. I know we got off to a rough start…"

She let out a frustrated breath. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Shut up and duck."

Dean hit the floor. She fired.




Dean nudged what was left of the human carcass with his boot. "So. Demon, huh?"

Ronnie came up beside him. "Yup."

"How did you know?"

She shrugged. "I have a real acute sense for these things. Thanks for not shooting me, by the way."

Dean nudged the lifeless arm with his boot again.

She shot him a look. "Want to double tap it in the head, just in case?"

His eyes went back to what remained of the skull. There wasn’t much left. "Nope. We’re good. Nice shot, by the way."

He paused. "Why did you warn me?"

She shrugged. "Why did you duck?" She headed back up the aisle towards the store. He followed.

She caught him looking at her curiously. "What?"

"You. You see, I can read people, but you are all over the place. First you give me the cold shoulder, and now you just saved my hide. What gives? Where did we meet before?"

She stopped and picked up the pile of oil change supplies from where they dropped them, shoving them into his arms. Her eyes were down right frosty.

"When you remember, you’ll let me know. Or we can pretend things never happened. Your call."

　



Dean eased the Impala to a silent halt a block away from where Ronnie’s Jeep was parked outside an old warehouse. While the outside looked rundown and abandoned, there was fresh garbage in the dumpster and the door Ronnie just entered opened without so much a squeak.

First she had stopped at the local catholic church where it appeared she was on friendly terms with the priest there. She loaded up the jeep with several cases and jugs of bottled water. Holy water, if he had to guess. Then she left for the warehouse.

Someone had the warehouse up and running, and wanted to keep it on the down low. And Ronnie had a key to the back door. That, and the fact that she clearly ditched him on purpose was all giving him one of those feelings. He wasn’t easy to ditch.

He made quick work of the lock on the backdoor and slipped inside. The halls were bare but cleanly swept. The overhead fluorescent lights glowed a sickly greenish gray color as they flickered to life. Down the hall he heard a file cabinet door slide shut. He slid his pearl-handled pistol out from the small of his back and silently made his way down the hall.

At the end of the hallway was an office, the desk lamp the sole source of light in the dark room. A nearby file cabinet sat open, and a pile of invoices were spread on top the desk, as if someone was looking at them and was interrupted. The monitor screen was black, but the tower below hummed actively.

In the reflection of the monitor, Dean saw a flash silver. Gun.

He kicked the door the rest of the way in and came face to face with Ronnie.

She let out a sharp breath. "Dean? What are you doing? I could have shot you." She lowered her weapon.

Dean stayed on alert. "Following you. What are you doing, Ronnie?"

"My job," she replied with a roll of her eyes. She walked back to the invoices and flipped through them.

"What exactly is that? Auntie Mae got ghosts? Disgruntled former employees? An unhappy ex-husband?"

Ronnie snorted. "Nothing nearly that exciting. The building is clean. Employees are all happy to have a job since the factories pulled out a few years back. Auntie Mae is alarmingly virginal."

Dean tried to wrap his head around her choice of words. He couldn’t. "Then why are we here?"

"I am here because the bills won’t pay themselves. You are here because you are a pain in my ass."

He looked at her a long moment. He grabbed her arm and pulled her closer.

"Hey! What -- did you just sniff me?"

He gave her a hard look. "You smell like apples and cinnamon and …"

"Nutmeg," she finished for him.

"Pie," he countered. "You are Auntie Mae?"

She closed her eyes a moment. "I knew you were going to be trouble the second I saw you in the hardware store. What? I have to make a living."

"You can cook?" he asked incredulously.

"That’s your biggest question?" she countered. "Of course I can cook.  I have to eat.  My grandmother taught me all her recipes and I have an arrangement with the diner. I try things out there and then once I’m satisfied, I send it into production. The pies are the company’s best sellers. And I’d appreciate it if you kept it quiet. People round here think Auntie Mae is someone’s little old aunt. Wholesome as, well, apple pie."

"And not you."

Her eyes darkened. "Yeah, well, I seem to have a little problem with PR department lately. I don’t think the image of little ol’ Auntie Mae killing demons on the weekends would sell well. That and I’m pretty sure if word ever got out, I’d have about a dozen marriage proposals from the old guys hanging round the diner all day. No thanks."

But Dean wasn’t listening. He was staring at a plaque on the wall that said, "If you can survive hell and back, you can survive out the frying pan into the fire."

When his eyes met hers, she knew it had clicked. He remembered where they met before. Hell.



　

"Dean!" Bobby yelled. "What is going on?"

Dean had all but thrown Ronnie into the front room. He was wielding Ruby’s knife.

"Just a little housekeeping."

"Dean, really?" she finally said. "As if the ride in the trunk of your car wasn’t fun enough with a tire iron jammed up my—"

"Dean?" Sam asked.

"She’s not Ronnie. She’s a demon."

Now all three set their sights on her, and she knew they were mentally gearing up for a fight.  Not to mention there were no less than a half dozen weapons all within easy arm's reach for them.

"Alrighty now," she said a soothing tones. "Let’s not get a little nutty here."

"How do you know?" Bobby finally asked.

"Because I remembered where I met her before. In hell."

"Now hang on guys," she said nervously. "Let’s all take a second and –"

"Shut up, you demonic bitch," Dean snarled and hit her in the face with a slap of holy water.

And nothing happened.

She spit a mouthful of water out onto the carpet and wiped her face clear of water with her hands. "Fantastic. You rip me a new one – literally – for an entire year, and I’m the one accused of being a demon. Thanks. Thanks a lot."

She walked out of the devil’s trap and went to the desk, pulling a silver knife out of a drawer. She drew the blade across her forearm. It only bled. She grabbed the holy water out of Dean’s hand and took a healthy gulp.

"Any other tests you want to throw at me?" she challenged.

"How?" was all he asked.

"From what I hear, the same as you. An angel popped me out and I woke up in my own grave."





Ronnie perched upon the edge of the table. Sam, Dean, and Bobby all sat around her on the chairs and sofa.

Bobby rubbed his eyes. "So when you told me you popped back up, you meant…"

She nodded. "Literally. It happened the night I got jumped here in the house. Dad was gone and Brian was freshly buried. I was distracted and I walked in to find a demon in the house. And he brought some friends."

"Wyatt and his cronies?" Sam asked.

She nodded. "Ever since I showed up in town, there have been rumors. Rumor and stories about my tattoo. Ever since high school, Wyatt was obsessed with seeing it. He was positive it was some tramp stamp and he was going to prove it. So they tied me up. I fought. I fought hard.

"Somewhere along the long Wyatt started choking me, trying to get me to stay quiet, I suppose. I think the others were losing their nerves. And then I was dead.

"They panicked. Wrapped me in a tarp and dumped me in a shallow grave in the woods. The demon happily carted me off to Hell."

"Must have been a shock to Sheldon when you popped back up," Bobby said quietly.

She shook her head. "To say the least. Justin and Zack, I think they are plain terrified of me. But Wyatt, he’s convinced that I’m a witch. And the tattoo and all confirms it.

"So after clawing my way out of my own grave, I made my way to the highway. Frank, the guy at the hardware store, found me along the side of the road and took me to the hospital where the doctors determined I was in shock. I told the police the story of Wyatt, but they didn’t believe me. The timing was all wrong. Apparently I’d been gone for months and my injuries were too healed compared to what I’d been through. So I had to settle for a no contact order."

It was a long moment before anyone broke the silence of the room.

"So when you went off the grid …?" Bobby began.

"Yeah. That’s when I was … down under. I called you once from the hospital. I didn’t know how to even start to explain what had happened. You had your hands full with these two at the time, complaining about something they had done."

"Sounds about right," Sam chuckled.

"It was such a normal thing," she continued. "It kinda slapped some sense into me."

"What did you do, Ronnie?" Bobby asked quietly. "You were the poster child for good behavior growing up. You never gave your parents one lick of trouble. What could you have possibly done to deserve hell?"

She glanced over to where Sam and Dean sat, and let out a slight smile at the sudden sheepish looks they had on their faces.

"Well, other than the time these two got me grounded for breaking curfew, it was the usual. Selfish, vain. I didn’t really go out of my way to help anyone, Bobby. Sin by apathy, I suppose."

Bobby shook his head. "That’s a bit harsh for hell. If that was the case, the gates would be flooded going downstairs."

She shrugged. "Honestly, Bobby?  I have no idea.  But if I have to go back, I’m going to make damned sure I earn it."

　




Dean found her several hours later in the warehouse of the hardware store with her Jeep. She looked up when she heard his footsteps.

"Dean."

"Ronnie. How’s it goin’?"

"Just fine." She shook her head. "What’s on your mind?"

"What makes you think I have something on my mind?"

She slammed the hood down. "Because for some reason, being around you gets me all prickly and unless you are a glutton for punishment, you are not here because of my charming personality."

He shrugged. She had a point. "What you told Bobby in the house. Is it true? You didn’t leave anything out?"

She took a steadying breath. "Nope. I never killed anyone or anything. I even taught Sunday school to the little kiddies."

"That doesn’t make any sense. Unless –"

She didn’t like his expression. "Unless what?"

"There was a plan for me in hell. When they broke me, when I picked up the lash, it broke the first seal, opening the door to the Apocalypse. What if there was a plan for you as well?"

"Well, that’s a reassuring thought," she muttered.

"I was in hell for thirty years before I met you there, Ronnie. How long were you there?"

"I have no idea how long I was in Hell before you came along. It could have been a month. It could have been decades. I was chained to a wall and left to rot. Nothing. No torture, no beatings. Not a soul came by, not even down the hall. They had literally locked me away and tossed out the key. Just me and my thoughts. And the thoughts weren’t good ones.

"Then you came into my cell and they all but put a bow on me like a little present. You know that part of it. When the angels busted you out, they hid me away. I ended up with Crowley, where he made me his little house pet in his little corner of hell for awhile. An angel helped me break out, and I popped up where Shelton dumped me in the woods."

"Did Cass bust you out?"

She shook her head. "I think Castiel was the first to try that particular trick. The one who got me out, I think you know him as Balthazar."

She looked out the window. "Looks like rain. Do you want to get your baby inside? There’s plenty of room inside here."

"My baby?"

She gave him a knowing look. "I can recognize a guy that takes care of his ride. I seriously doubt a girl has ever come between you and your car."

She hopped off the workbench and swung open the garage door.

　




Sam looked around the garage, following the sound of their voices.  Bobby was on a supply run a state away.

"Can you reach down there? There’s a branch or something stuck up there and I can’t reach it from down here."

Ronnie sighed and hoisted herself on top the fender, belly down, her legs dangling over the edge. "What did you do?  Drive through a corn field?" She reached down into a gap. "Down here?"

"Close. You almost got it."

Sam shook his head. With Dean’s legs sticking out from under the Impala below and Ronnie’s legs above, it looked like they were in the midst of a three way with the car in the middle.

"They’re doing it wrong," he muttered.

Ronnie looked over. "Oh, hey, Sam."

She looked down again and realized her shirt was pulled down tight and she had a great deal of cleavage showing. And given the angle Dean was at below, he was more than likely enjoying every last moment of it.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered. She grabbed a small wrench and dropped it in the gap. "Oops."

"Ow! Hey!" Dean howled.

"Look out below. Sam, what brings you out here?"

Sam tried in vain to not grin as Dean hauled himself out from below the car, rubbing his forehead. "Hadn’t heard from you two in awhile. Came to check and see if you had killed each other."

"Not yet," she grinned. "I-"

Sam watched her stiffen. "What is it?" he asked.

Ronnie scanned the vast expanse of the barn. She reached into the backseat of the Jeep and pulled out a shotgun, handing it to Dean. Then she went over and reached behind a shelf and pulled out a two more.

Dean checked the chamber. It was loaded with rock salt.

"Just how many guns do you have stashed over the place?"

She gave him a grim smile. "A few."

Two demons stepped into view. "Hi ya, Ronnie. Our boss wants a word with you."

She cocked the shotgun, aiming to towards the newcomers.  "Tell him to take a number," she replied back.

One demon tsked. "Crowley isn’t going to like that."

"Too bad." She fired the rifle twice. Then she lept for a lever along the wall and threw it. A moment later the sprinkler system came on.

Dean stared at the water pouring down over his car. "What the hell? The windows are open."

She grabbed his arm. "Come on."

The demons started to follow but a moment in the water sent them scrambling back, their clothes smoking.

"Holy water?" Sam asked.

"A girl’s gotta be prepared. I had all the water rigged in case of emergencies."

"Ronnie!"

She turned to face the demon.

"Crowley will not be happy. He will find you. And your friend here, Dean? He’s put a price on his head."

"Well, thanks for the warning. Gotta go. Places to go, people to see –"

They sprinted towards the safety of the house.

"Crowley ever put a price on you before?" she asked Dean as they all scrambled inside.

"Once or twice. Guess that means we’re getting close."

"Close to what?"

He flashed a grin. "Whatever it is he doesn’t want us to find."

"I think I know what he wants."

Sam shot her a curious look. "What?"

"Heaven’s weapons. Angels have been leaving their toys in my bog for awhile now for safe keeping. It’s like an Easter egg hunt out there."

"What?" Sam sputtered. "You’ve been hiding heaven’s weapons? Where?"

"In a safe place," Ronnie replied.

"Where?" Dean insisted.

Ronnie sighed and grabbed her purse, a large messenger bag looking thing.

Dean gave her a look. "You keep them in your purse?"

"Well, yeah. Kinda. Let me show you."

She reached inside her purse and pulled out a smaller bag that looked a lot like an old black leather pouch.

"What do you have in that thing? Pixie dust?" Dean smirked.

"Just watch." She reached her hand inside and pulled out a long object wrapped in cloth. It was twice as long as the bag it was pulled from.

"How-?" Sam sputtered.

"Pretty neat, huh?" she answered. Then she proceeded to pull seven other objects out of the bag.

"It’s like a magician’s bag of tricks. By looking inside, you cannot see what is in there. You can’t fill it, and it stretches to fit whatever you want to put inside."

"As for the toys here, I don’t know what they do, and I don’t want to know. The next angel that comes through that door is getting the lot of them."

"Kinda hard since you angel proofed the house," Sam pointed out.

She paused. "Ok, you got me there. But the next one I see …"

"You’ve never considered just giving them to Crowley?" Dean asked.

She shot him a dirty look. "Crowly is the last demon I would ever willingly give something to."

Dean shared a look with his brother.  "Well, I think it's time for a face to face.  Crowley wants to me, I say its time to set up a meeting."

　

　



At the soft knock at the door, Dean placed the gun barrel on the cloth spread out on the desk. The door opened partway and Ronnie stuck her head inside.

"Hey."

He shook his head. "What?"

"Can I ask you something? I mean, you know this is all a trap. Crowley wants a face to face. Why are you jumping head first into it?"

Dean moved to sit on the edge of the bed. "The way I see it, if it’s a trap, he wants us out of the way. He wants us out of the way, we are doing something right."

"Or maybe he wants to just kill you. He’s gunning for your head, Dean."

"Yours, too."

She sighed. "So there is nothing I can say that will make you change your mind on this crazy plan of yours?"

"Nope. You?"

"Nope."

"Well, then. I guess we’re at an impass then."

They stared at each other for a long moment. The click of the door lock seemed deafening in the quiet of the room.

Dean tilted his head as she stepped towards him. "I thought you weren’t into the whole ‘last night on earth pitch.’"

"And life is too short for regrets," she countered softly.

She stood before him. He reached a finger along her arm, raising goosebumps wherever he touched her flesh.

"You sure about this, Ronnie?"

Her response was to wrap her hand around the back of his neck as she leaned in to kiss him. He didn’t ask again.

He sighed, savoring her softness as he pulled her close. He deepened the kiss, and a moment later had her sitting astride him. He made quick work of the row of buttons down her shirt and had it on the floor in moments. When he drew the skin along the side of her neck into his mouth gently, she shivered in his arms. Finally, he fell back onto the mattress, pulling her with him.

She ran her arms along his arms, upwards towards his head. She smiled a mysterious smile as she leaned over and kissed him long and deep.

Then two quick metallic clicks broke the silence of the room and they both went completely still.

Ronnie pushed her hair out of her eyes with one hand. "You have got to be kidding."

Dean gave her a cold smile. "’Fraid not." He lightly smacked her on the behind. "Now get off me."

She shot him a look that could kill as she rolled off him. "Let me guess. Handcuffs already attached to the headboard before I even walked in the door, right?"

"Yep."

"Just my luck. Kinky and effective."

Dean went to rub his hand through his hair. That’s when he noticed a second bracelet on his own wrist. A pair of handcuffs dangled merrily off his arm. He shot her a dirty look.

Ronnie shrugged. "Looks like we had the same idea. Point taken. Now uncuff me."

He hopped off the bed. "Can’t do that, sweetheart. It’ll have to wait until after the big showdown." He turned to leave.

"Just be reasonable."

He shook his head. "Later."

"Dean, wait."

He turned to look at her, waiting.

She swallowed hard. "Look. There are a few things I don’t do well. Helpless is one of them."

Dean closed his eyes, but he could still see her huddled there, looking hopelessly vulnerable, fighting back ghosts. Cursing to himself, he stepped back towards the bed. He reached into his duffle bag and withdrew a pistol. He removed the clip and set the gun on the bed beside her, placing the clip just beyond her reach. He may be a sucker, but he wasn’t stupid.

"You are a lot of things, Ronnie, but helpless isn’t one of them. I figured you would have a blade of some sort close by. This is your room, isn’t it?"

He grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her flat on her back.

"Hey!" she sputtered.

He put one arm on either side of her shoulders and held himself suspended over her. He waited for any sign of protest. He saw wariness, uncertainty, curiosity even, but no protest. He brushed his lips against hers before kissing her long and deep.

Then he stood abruptly and backed towards the door.

"Gotta go, Ronnie."

She sputtered indignantly, cursing herself for being every kind of idiot, and lunged for the clip, using her fingernails to inch it within reach. She strained against the taut chain of the cuffs, willing herself to reach millimeters more until her fingertips brushed its edge. Once in hand, she slid it into the pistol in one fluid motion. She fired off one shot just as Dean cleared the doorway, putting a hole in the wall behind him.

　



　

"Was that a gunshot?" Sam asked, seated across from Bobby downstairs. Bobby was back from his road trip and he and Sam were mapping out details of Dean's plan. 

Sam and Bobby rose to their feet as Dean came tearing down the stairs.  "Ok. Let’s get a move on."

"What about Ronnie?" Sam asked skeptically.

Dean shrugged. "She’s a little tied up at the moment. She said to go ahead and leave without her."

A loud shrieking noise came from the ceiling, like someone was dragging a rhinoceros across the floor above.

"What the hell is that?" Bobby demanded.

"She’s rearranging furniture. The Feng Shui is all wrong up there. We’re losing daylight."

They were outside and almost to the Impala when she threw open the upstairs window. She was only wearing her bra on the top half they could see.

"Dean Winchester, you have about 10 seconds to get your ass back up here and uncuff me-"

"Aw, come on, honey. Go back inside and get some clothes on-"

Bobby shot him a glare.

She huffed. "Don’t you dare start quoting Armageddon to me!"

"Bye now."

"Dammit, Dean!"

He looked up to see her aiming the pistol at the car.

"Now don’t do anything you might regret," he said, moving slowly towards the door. Sam could see he was holding his breath, hoping she was bluffing.

Oh, she was temped, all so tempted to shoot that smug look right off his face, but the reality was that they had bigger fish to fry. She could exact her revenge later.

"Gah!" She let out a frustrated breath and let the arm aiming the gun fall harmlessly to her side.

"I’ll pick up some spackle on the way home," Dean called out as he slid into the front seat. Sam and Bobby got in the car as well.

"Do I even want to know what that was all about?" Bobby asked after the house faded in the distance behind them.

Dean looked up in the rear mirror into Bobby’s disapproving eyes, fighting the overwhelming urge to squim. "I seriously doubt it."





Ronnie was still fighting with the handcuff attached to the bed when Castiel popped in. He took one look at the state of her undress and tilted his head in a look of confusion.

"This looks like something out of one of Dean’s movies."

Ronnie sighed. "I’ll explain later. Well, no, I won’t, but I do need you to get me uncuffed from this thing! Now!"

A moment later, the cuff released from the bed. Ronnie glared at the bracelet dangling from her wrist. "Now I personally would have released THE PART ATTACHED TO MY WRIST-"

"Where is Dean?"

Ronnie snatched up her shirt and pulled it on. She swung the long strap of her purse over her shoulder in one fluid motion. "Off doing something stupid. He went to face Crowley. Without me."

"Oh. He was nobly attempting to prevent you from coming to harm at Crowley’s hands."

She shot him a glare. "Yeah, and when I find him, I am going to kick his ass and his noble intentions into next week. Come on. I’ve got an address on Crowley. Hopefully we’re not too late."

Castiel sighed and tapped her on the forehead. A moment later, Ronnie’s head spun and she had to fight to stay upright or else fall in a heap on the floor. She shook her head to clear it. Someone reached out to steady her on her feet. She looked up to find Bobby, and her triple vision was reduced to double.

"What the hell was that?" she spat out.

"A faster way." Castiel nodded to the house in front of them. "You have the weapons on your person?"

"Oh now you ask." She patted her purse. "They are here."

"Open the bag." She opened her purse and withdrew the black bag.

Castiel took the bag from her and set it on the trunk of Bobby’s Nova, and opened it. He pawed around inside a moment before withdrawing a round item wrapped in cloth. He unwrapped it and handed the stone back to Ronnie.

"Take this with you."

She stared at the opalescent rock about the size of an egg. "What is it?"

"Angelstone. It can temporarily give you heavenly powers. Only use it if necessary."

"It’ll give me angel juice?"

"Just for a short time, and only to special people. You are special, Ronnie."

"That’s what my grandmother always told me."

Castiel gave her a look. "She would know. She used to be one of us."

Bobby shook his head. "I guess the old bat wasn’t that crazy after all." He shot a sheepish look at Ronnie. "Sorry."

She shrugged. "No, you have the right of it. She was battier than a belfry. The guys already inside?"

Bobby nodded. "I just finished rigging the sprinkler system for holy water when you showed up."

Ronnie nodded back. "Good. Now Cass, get him out of here."

Bobby stared at her incredulously. "Now hang on a minute, missy-"

But Cass already reached him and *poof* they were gone.

　



　

Sam and Dean groaned simultaneously as their bodies were slammed against the wall by some unseen demonic force.

"Well, nice to know thing are going according to plan," Dean wheezed.

Crowley smirked from across the room. "I’m disappointed, boys. You come all the way down here and you have nothing to offer. You didn’t bring dear, sweet Veronica and you didn’t bring any of heaven’s toys. You have nothing to bargain with. Why, it’s a wonder I’ve left you alive this long."

Dean’s vision swam and another wave of searing pain enveloped him. He could hear Sam groan not far from him, undoubtably fighting the same pain. This wasn’t good. Crowley was going to kill them and it was take a miracle to get them out of this mess.

The door swung open. It wasn’t pushed open. An energy forced it open.

"Aw, crap," Dean muttered. "Now what?"

In strutted Ronnie.

She shot a look at Dean. "Nice to see you, too, sunshine. Give me a sec with your friend here, will ya?" She pinned her gaze on Crowley and marched on in like she owned the place.

"Crowley, love. I’ve been looking just everywhere for you. We need to chat."

Crowley smirked. "My day keeps getting better and better. First the Winchesters and now you. You need to die." He lifted his hand, arm outstretched towards her and shot a bolt of energy towards her.

She remained standing, unfazed. It barely ruffled her hair. "Please. Ooh and that reminds me. I need to borrow a cup of sugar, neighbor. I’ll be right back. Now don’t you move a muscle. I’ll just help myself."

And she walked right by Crowley and went down the hall.

Crowley looked at Sam and Dean. "What. Did. You. Do?"

Dean was struggling to come up with something witty to say, but he was distracted by something he saw in Crowley’s eyes. And it kind looked like fear. Of Ronnie? What was going on here?

And then Ronnie marched back into the room. "Thanks, love. You had just what I needed. By the way, you are now minus three of your little watch demons you sent to kill me. Now we don’t want to intrude, so me and the guys will be going now."

"So you just think you can waltz in here and then leave?" he demanded.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do." She snapped her fingers and Sam and Dean were released from the wall. "Remember Crowley. I know lots of your secrets. Don’t think I won’t use them."

Ronnie turned on her heel and went out the same door she came in, Sam and Dean falling in step behind her.

"Ronnie," Dean began. "What the hell?"

"You guys alright?" she replied, picking up her pace.

"Yeah," they replied.

"Can you run?"

They looked at each other and they hauled ass out of there.





Inside Crowley stroked his chin thoughtfully as he pondered the evening’s events. Veronica continued to be full of surprises, just like the last time.

The last time.

"Oh, balls," he muttered and zapped himself out of there.

A moment later, the PA system in the house turned on. Debbie Boone’s "You Light Up My Life" warbled through the speaker system, along with a Latin incantation to hold any demons in place. About half way through the chorus, a massive explosion ripped through the building.

　



　

"I tell you, Sammy," Dean began. "A woman who knows her way around explosives is a beautiful thing."

Ronnie snorted. "Aw, I’d say you are a flatterer, but I know you’re after the last piece of pie."

Sam laughed. "She has you there."

Dean shrugged. "All kidding aside. What was that mojo you used back there?"

Ronnie pulled the stone out of her pocket, setting on the table. "This is called Angelstone. Very rare. It gives the holder temporary powers, and it gets drained like a battery. Story goes that certain decendants of a certain bloodline, born during a certain phase of moon, yada yada yada … you get the picture."

"And you just happen to be one of those lucky people?" Dean asked.

"If you can call it that. I’ve kept a pretty low profile up 'til now. I guess you can say I’ve officially thrown my hat into the ring. I took Crowley by surprise. He’ll be ready next time."

Sam tapped his finger on the table. "I think I’ve read something on Angelstone. Ronnie, who else is in your bloodline?"

"Mostly normal folk, with one exception. Samuel Colt. Oh, and one slightly off-kilter grandmother who claims she used to be an angel."

"Samuel Colt," Sam whistled.

"An angel?" choked Dean.

Ronnie took a long, cool swallow of lemonade. "Yep. Sunday dinners were a real treat at my house."

After dinner, Ronnie went to the kitchen to clean up, and Sam volunteered to help. Dean watched them thoughtfully as he leaned back in his chair.

"Dean?"

Dean went still. Bobby only used that tone when he was about to say something disapproving. "Yeah, Bobby?"

"Earlier today. With the handcuffs. You two got something goin’ on or what?"

"Don’t worry about it, Bobby. We’re not going steady or anything. Apparently we were both using bracelets as a means to an end." He nodded towards the kitchen. "Besides, I may be the wrong one to give a talking to here."

"Good. ‘Cause I’m about the closest thing to family she has left, and I’d hate to have to kick your ass for stepping over the line." Bobby paused a moment. "You really think those two will hit it off?"

"Too early to tell. She seems like a decent girl. Too decent for me anyway. If Sam takes an interest in her, I won’t stop him. There has been way too little decent in his life lately."

　
"Well, isn’t this cozy."

They all leapt to their feet as Crowley appeared in the middle of the room. Crowley shook his head.

"Now, now. Don’t get up." With a wave of his hand, they were all slammed against the nearest wall. He closed in on Ronnie.

"You, my dear, have been exceptionally busy. Breaking into my house, stealing my stuff, blowing it up into smithereens. Whatever did I do to you?"

She glared at him. "Broke into my house, stole my stuff … oh yeah. You had me freaking killed—"

"It was nothing personal, love. Just business, until now. Now it is very personal."

He gestured to Sam, Dean, and Bobby, all pinned to the wall. "And now you’ve gone and paired up with these knuckleheads. Tsk, tsk, Ronnie. You’ve been slumming."

"If you’re looking for heaven’s toys, you’re too late. They are already gone."

Crowley let out a frustrated breath. "That’s too bad. They were the only reason you are still alive."

With a wave of his hand, she began to slowly rise up along the wall, pushed toward the ceiling by some unseen force, finally stopping only when she was fully against the ceiling, pinned there.

Crowley grinned. "I believe you boys are familiar with how this next part goes."

"No!" Sam cried out.

"Leave her alone," growled Dean. Bobby watched in horror as she struggled against the ceiling.

A gash tore across her abdomen and she cried out. Blood began to seep out and soak her clothing.

"Crowly, you son of a bitch-" she bit out.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"Crowley!"

He looked up at her.

"You forgot one thing. I’m not a marshmallow. I don’t get toasted."

And she flung out her arms and legs with all her might. Only then did they notice the devil’s trap she had created on the ceiling with her own blood, using her body as the pentagram inside.

Crowley shriek and a fire ring welled up around him. Ronnie chanted in Latin, and soon he was engulfed in flames. She spoke a few final lines and poof, he was gone.

And with Crowley gone, there was nothing left to hold her to the ceiling.

"Aaah!"

And Sam and Dean watched as she hit the floor.

Bobby glared at them as he grabbed a carpet and began beating at the flames starting to engulf the room. "Well, don’t just stand there like nimcompoops."

"Right." And they rushed to her side to help her up.

"Well, the landing needs work," she quipped and she wobbled to her feet. She held steady for a second, then collapsed.

Bobby stared at the wall of flame starting to creep around them. "Get a move on, boys!"

"Yeah," she agreed. "Plus most of the furniture is loaded."

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Sam grabbed her, Dean grabbed her bag, and they hauled ass out of the house.





Ronnie stared at the blazing house from the hilltop.  It was fully engulfed and half the county's fire engines were parked in the front yard, lights flashing.  The firemen were aimlessly milling around, drinking coffee.

"Boy, you guys sure know how to show a girl a good time."

Sam sat down beside her. "Sorry about the house, Ronnie."

"Yeah, well, the fire department pretty much called it a wash once I warned him about all of dad’s ammunition inside."

Another large explosion burst into the night and a portion of the roof fell in.

"There goes the library, and the C4." She shrugged. "Well, there were a lot of ghosts and bad memories in that house anyway. I have some things at the store. Can you give me a lift?"

　
A few moments later they pulled into the empty lot of the hardware store. They had just reached the store door when Ronnie went completely still. Ronnie raised her head. 

"Do you feel that?" she asked Sam and Dean.

"What is it?" Sam asked.

"I – I’m not sure. Wait. A reaper. There’s a reaper nearby. Something’s about to go very, very wrong."

From the shadows, figures emerged to stand before them. There stood Wyatt and his cronies between them and the impala. And Wyatt held a gun. Mrs. Cavanaugh stood beside him.

"Great," Dean muttered. "All our reinforcements are in the trunk."

"What are you doing, Wyatt?" Ronnie asked.

"We have unfinished business," he replied.

"Let’s put away the guns and we can talk about it." She saw out of the corner of her eye that Sam was discreetly hitting buttons on his phone. Reinforcements, she hoped. Hopefully sooner rather than later.

"Don’t think so," Mrs. Cavanaugh said. Then she pulled a gun out of her purse and shot Zach and Ben.

"Crap," Ronnie sighed. "She’s possessed."

"What did you do that for?" Shelton demanded.

"They were weak and would have been in the way," Mrs. Cavanaugh replied.

Shelton stared incredulously at Ronnie. "You did this. You’re a witch. You put a spell on her."

Ronnie raised her hands in a shrug. "No, Wyatt. No magic. No witchcraft. Your new friend here however is possessed by a demon."

She turned towards Mrs. Cavanaugh. "Christo."

Mrs. Cavanaugh shuddered violently, the demon possessing her protesting against the Latin word.

Dean reached over and grabbed a bag of rock salt and heaved it at Mrs. Cavanaugh’s feet. The bag split open and spilt around her feet. The demon howled in protest, fused to the spot she was standing. Quickly Ronnie recited the exorcism rite and a moment later the demon poured out of the body.

Ronnie tilted her head thoughtfully. "Isn’t that how it went down last time? A demon on your shoulder? Isn’t that how you got into my house that night? Convinced you that it was alright because, hey, I was a witch after all?"

"You are a witch! And witches are whores!"

"Really, Wyatt? Is that why you tied me up? Because I wasn’t whore enough for you? What’s the matter? The tramp stamp you were looking for wasn’t there?"

"You have a tattoo!"

Ronnie stepped closer. "Yeah. A tattoo to ward off evil. Didn’t do me much good against you, now did it?"

Wyatt seemed to deflate before her eyes. "You wouldn’t stop screaming. You kept fighting."

"And what? You had to kill me?"

Wyatt stared at her in horror. "No. No. This cannot be happening. I –"

He turned and stumbled over the curb and into the street.   A bus came out of nowhere, horn blaring, and with a sickening thud, Wyatt was gone.

Dean stared at the spot where Wyatt had just been. "Ok. That was unexpected."

Ronnie rushed to Mrs. Cavanaugh’s side. The older woman looked up dazedly. "What happened?"

"Are you ok? Are you hurt?" Ronnie asked.

"There was black smoke and … and … I – oh my god, I killed those boys!"

"A demon. You were possessed. It wasn’t you."

"What? I don’t understand."

"A demon, Mrs. Cavanaugh. True evil. It is real."





Sam caught up with Ronnie as she left Mrs. Cavanaugh’s side, after explaining everything to her, including about her son’s death.

"You alright?"

Ronnie sighed. "I suppose. It’s been a long a day."

Bobby came up beside her. "Do you have some place to go?"

She gave him a small smile. "Yeah. I have a place of my own down by the lake. It’s safe."

"You can’t be alone right now."

She stilled her racing heartbeat once she realized it was Cass that just popped into view. "I’m fine."

"Perhaps, but Crowley is looking for you." Cass turned to the Winchesters. "You need to take her to Chuck. He has something you will need and she’ll be with you."

"I thought we just zapped Crowley back into hell?" Dean asked.

"Temporarily. He will be back."

Ronnie shook her head. "Chuck? As in The Prophet Chuck? No. I’ve got a life here and-"

"Why Chuck?" Dean asked. "I thought he disappeared for a while."

"Well, he’s back. And he has a message for you."

And then Castiel was gone.

Dean shrugged. "Ok then. Sounds like a roadtrip."

Ronnie struggled to her feet, wincing and pressing her hand to her stomach. "No."

"Yes," Dean countered. "I’m going to have to insist."

Ronnie jutted out her chin. "What? Are you going to make me?"

Two hours later, Ronnie stared sullenly out the window from the rear seat of the Impala. "I cannot believe you two hog tied me and threw me in the back seat."