Life with Dean and Sam Winchester.

No Progress. When is there ever progress?

Keyla looked over her shoulder at Dean when the sun began to fall. They had searched the area high and low. Nothing had come up, but, this was an intelligent monster this time. They knew how to clean up and pick off anyone who knew anything about what they were doing with speed and elegance. Keyla knew this.

Her eyes had bags under them, then she opened the curtain from the master suite of the bedroom, letting the wild flickering lights of the city pour into her eyes. The woman was already changed into something she would lay in bed in. Not sleep. She knew she couldn't sleep. Not peacefully, at least.

Cars honked and lights flashed. People walked and some rode bikes. Most were bundled up for the cold New England night, but some were in such small things, Keyla didn't know if they actually counted as clothes or if they counted as underwear. Her fingers trembled softly as she pressed a hand up to the icy glass.

Her fingers pressed softly as she looked down. All Dean could see was her form pressed to the glass. The young Keyla was dressed in a baseball tee and a pair of plaid short shorts. Her forehead was to the window as it was obvious from the condensation built up on the window. A soft sound exited her tense and tight form, causing Dean to get up.

Keyla stepped back, and suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. Her breathing had become ragged and her hands covered her eyes. Keyla was...crying and cursing.

Dean only squeezed her tighter, trying to calm her down, but it only resulted him her fists hitting his arms. "Let go! I'm fine! I'm fine!" Keyla muttered, though found herself turning into his arms. She bawled and cried into him.

The city, filled with all kinds of people. The city, full of bad people. The city, full of innocent bystanders. It all made her feel hopeless, especially since they didn't find evidence of Gabby being there. Or vampires being there, though it was absolutely possible for them to hide in the city.

---Next Morning---

Keyla found herself laying in Dean's arms, hands trembling from the coldness of the air in the building. Her face was still covered in freshly dried tears and the slight stickiness from their wake. Dean was snoring next to her, protectively curled around her. He was holding her hand. Her hand. Each were fully dressed.

Keyla slipped from Dean's side and grabbed the list of places close to the address that was given to them. A government building was next to investigate, and Keyla didn't doubt that one wouldn't be in there. She sighed and moved to get ready.

---Dean---

I woke up to a sudden coldness and with something obvious missing. Keyla was missing. I pushed myself up from the slick and silky blankets to look around better through dreary and sleepy eyes. He moved away from the bed, rubbing an eye, and walked into the kitchen.

"Keyla?" I called out, then... She came out of the bathroom. Her dark hair was curled and she was wearing make-up, for once, on the hunt. Her skin looked better than before and she wore a bright multi-colored dress with a pair of heels. Her clothing screamed flirty and seductive along with business.

"Whoa..." I muttered, eyes now wide.

"Get ready. We're going to go to a government office." I found my eyes become questioning.

"Why aren't you dressed a little less... Bright?" I asked.

"Dean, being a woman can get you a long way if you know how to use your body to someone's sexual preferences, man or woman." She gave what seemed to be a smirk. It only earned a cough from me and a turn on my heel.

---Keyla---

I smiled at his expression. He muttered some words as he entered the bathroom. I put on a pair of earrings and fixed my hair a bit more. My eyes scanned over my dress once more. Maybe it was a bit too bright...

I liked it though. It was a strange and bright colored dress with a beautiful pattern. It was quite the dress for me, if I did say. I heard the bathroom door click open and saw Dean slowly sneak across the bedroom to grab his clothes from the mirror.

I couldn't help but admire him from my place. His strong shoulders and that anti-possession tattoo. His freckles that never seemed to end over his fair, but tanned skin. His muscles looked great after showers along with his light bit of stubble that was going to disappear in the bathroom within a couple of seconds.

He then tried to slip into the bathroom without any noise, but he failed miserably when he bumped into the table by the bathroom door, earning a snort to come from my mouth.

Within the next hour, we were inside the big building filled with the state seal and then the US seal. Dean walke behind me, though I had no clue as to why. My feet moved quickly forward in the heels, only to come to a stop when I looked up at a man.

Dean stopped a couple feet behind me. The man I looked at was in his mid-twenties. Young. Handsome. Obviously single, or in a relationship that wasn't going good. It was obvious by his smirk and then his checking out of my merchandise. All his job was, was being a security guard.

"Hi." I said with my softest voice, trying my best to be cute, though that was lost on Dean when he gave me a look.

"Hey." The other said. His tag said Jerry.

"I'm Margret Lipton. I'm a local reporter, and well, I need to talk to the mayor. The secretary hasn't been taking any calls and I need to get back to him to talk to him about he local kidnappings and what the rates are." My voice was small, but a hand pressed to his chest, "So, could you please let me and my gay partner in?"

The guard went a red and became a bit bothered by her sudden touch at his chest. "U-Uh... Sure! Um, just go past me." He muttered and stepped to the side. "Last office in the back."

I smiled. "Thanks, Jerry!"

In minutes, Dean and I were on our way out. No freaks were in that building. Unfortunately, Dean wasn't going to let the 'gay' comment go.

"What the hell?! Why did you tell him I was gay?" Dean asked, not offended by being called gay, but offended by the way I lied about him.

"I needed him to think I was coming onto him, and, well, he would have automatically figured we were in a relationship," I explained. "And Im not sure what we are at all..." My feet moved quickly.

Neither of us had actually talked about a relationship, or if we were in one, or if we weren't in one. Or if we even wanted one. Or, if we just wanted to have sex or not. If we were just family or if we were more.