"Hey, sleeping beauty." Sam Winchester yanked away the blankets, laughing as his brother pulled a pillow over his head and snatched at the sheets. "Time for work."

Dean squinted at the clock. "What the hell, Sam? It's 3AM," he said through the pillow.

"That woman in Milford texted me back and she says she can meet today before work. She leaves at seven, so we've only got two hours to get there. "I'll drive if you want."

"Not necessary," said Dean through the pillow. He flopped over the side of the bed rummaged through his bag, half covered with the hotel quilt. "You're sure it couldn't wait till she's off duty." He grabbed a razor and a can of shaving cream and stumbled towards the bathroom, mumbling curses.

"It's strange, this monster. I'll tell you on the way. Wait." He kicked open the bathroom door. "You're shaving? At 3AM?" said Sam.

"Hey!" Dean slapped the cheek that wasn't swamped with lather. "One of us has to clean up for the lady."

For once, Sam was grateful for Metallica at five in the morning. He pulled his fingers through his hair, trying to tease down the puff on one side. "You want coffee?" Dean gestured towards one of the Dunkin' Donuts that popped up over the Northeast like weeds in the sidewalk. When Sam didn't reply, Dean playfully leaned over to punch his brother's arm. "How about a beer?"

"Coffee. Coffee sounds good."

They stood in line with handful of other souls seeking caffinated comfort on a -10 degree morning.

"Whatever this is, it had better be good. I can't stand the coffee around here."

"Well," said Sam. "I can't promise anything. Honestly, I haven't got a clue what it is-that's why I wanted to catch the witness this morning, ASAP. It kills like nothing I've ever heard of before."

"Kills? Who's died?"

The barista cleared her throat loudly.

"Sorry?" said Sam.

"Coffee?" said the barrista.

"Right," said Sam, and ordered his with extra espresso. On a whim, he ordered an extra coffee, plain, for the road.

"Two people died last week on different sides of the town. They all bled to death, with their faces sliced off. No pattern in any of the killings except the location."

"Sounds like a crackhead to me," said Dean after he placed his order.

"Nope. Crackheads don't walk through walls."

"Great. I've got a headache already."

In contrast to the supernatural murders they were investigating, the house Dean pulled up in front of was a saccharine-dipped postcard. It was sunk in snow up to the first floor windows so the Christmas wreaths, nearly picked clean of berries, seemed to perch on top of the snowdrifts. The long walkway was blanketed from the flurries the night before, but although the snow was still falling, two pairs of foot prints trailed from across the street to the door.

"Are you meeting someone?" Dean said.


Dean pulled up a little further and pointed. "See, two sets of footprints."

Sam just shrugged.

"Maybe a couple of early-rising Jehovah's Witnesses?"

"Let's find out."

Sam grabbed the extra coffee, now cool enough to drink, and braced himself against the icy New England wind. He followed the footprints, one man's and one woman's, up to the door, where he could a hear quiet conversation.

"Katharine?" he called, tapping on the window.

The murmurs stopped and a freckled woman in a pantsuit and cat-eye glasses soon came to the door.

"Are you Sam?" she said.

"Yes," said Sam, "and this is my brother, Dean."

"Come in before you get frostbite. Shoes off, please."

As Sam and Dean tugged off their boots, Katharine glanced towards the kitchen, then leaned in and whispered, "I've got unexpected company. I hope you don't mind-anyway, they're interested in the same thing you are."

Hunters? mouthed Dean.

"People like us, you mean?" Sam said.

Katharine shook her head and her earrings shuddered ferociously. "FBI," she whispered.

Dean straightened his collar and cleared his throat. "Sam, a word?"

Sam looked from the drink in his hand to Katharine and back again to the drink. "I brought you coffee for your help," he said. "I can't really make up for the FBI agents."

Dean gestured to the hall next to the mudroom.

"First," said Dean, "What is with the coffee?"

"What do you mean 'what's with the coffee?' It's a kind gesture for a witness who agrees to meet us before a 16 hour work day," Sam said in a loud whisper.

"Not because I shaved this morning and you didn't?"

"What is this really about, Dean?"

"Did you hear your little lady friend? There are FBI agents within shooting distance. We've got to get the hell out of town."

"We're not doing anything illegal," Sam said. "We can look around, nothing fancy, and lay low until they leave."

"It's not worth it," said Dean.

"Can I help you?" said a woman with a lower voice than Katharine.

Sam saw Dean's hand flinch towards his pistol. Slowly, they turned around.

The woman wore a buisness suit and red hair in a bob. She stood stood between the hall and Katharine's kitchen, hands on hips.

"We're friends of Katharine's," Sam offered.

"We have an...interest in the paranormal, and she gave us a call a few days ago," Dean said.

"Paranormal?" A man in a dark suit broke off his interview with Katharine to join the woman. Katharine, clearly unaccustomed to dealing with law enforcement, hovered nervously in the kitchen.

"I'm sure there's a perfectly mundane explanation for the recent murders, and that's what we're here to find," said the red-haired woman. "I'm agent Scully and this is agent Mulder. FBI."

"Dean and Sam Hammett," Dean said. "So, why are the feds involved with a state murder case?"

"We're here for the same reason you are," said Mulder. "Evidence of a paranormal crime."

"And although we appreciate your efforts, as this is a federal investigation, we'll have to ask you to leave now," said Scully.

"No, wait," said Katharine, moving out of the kitchen. "They stay. They came all the way from who-knows-where to look into this for me."

"Mrs. Collins-" started Mulder, but Katharine raised an eyebrow.

"They stay, or you leave."

Note: Your thoughts are appreciated! I'll try to update weekly. Also, every time I read it again I manage to spot another typo or style issue. If you spot one, kindly point it out for me and I'll fix that bastard. :)