Back mostly to the car, watching two very well endowed young ladies walk along the opposite side of the street, Dean reached for the door handle of the Impala. "Yeah, yeah, I'm coming Sam."

"This week?" Sam leaned down, peering out of the driver's side window from the passenger seat. "Ohhhh…." He gaze followed Dean's.

Dean snickered, turned, and jerked away from the car. "What the---" A pair of yellow eyes glared, menacingly back at him. The eyes narrowed, oval face contorting, mouth opening (displaying an impressive set of teeth), and hissed. "Get off of there." Waving one hand at the intruder (big mistake), it waved back at him. Claw connecting with Dean's finger, pulling skin away. Dean swore loudly and efficiently.

"Dean, what you doing out there?"

"Got a small problem Sammy. Just stay in the car, I'll take care of it and be right there."

"Huh?" Sam rolled out of the car, standing, peering over its top. He stared at the business end of Dean's pistol. "Shit! Dean!" Head covered with his hands, he dropped to his knees.

"Sam, I told you to stay in the car." Dean's voice was low, gravely, even.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam scooted around to the rear of the car, back pressed against it, craning his neck to look over at his brother.

"Dispatching this demon here, on my car, back to where it belongs."

"Uh, Dean….that's a cat, not a demon. You can't shoot it. There's laws or something."

"It's got yellow eyes Sammy."

Sam scrambled along the car till he stood beside Dean. "Dean, the whole cat is yellow." Reaching out, he placed his palm gently, yet firmly against Dean's wrist, slowly lowering his older brother's arm. That is until Dean gave him an absolutely murderous glare. Sam stuck his hand in his jeans pocket. He stepped forward confidently. "It's a nine pound cat, Dean, not a demon, just a cat. How hard can it be?"

"Sam, don't—"

Too late.

Sam reached for the cat, crooning to the animal, "come here, did the mean man with the gun scare you? He scares me too, a lot of people actually." As his hands were about to close around the cat's middle the miniature cougar's paw shot out, repeatedly, slapping Sam's hand, hissing and growling. Back arched, hackles raised, it advanced on him. "Ouuuuu….shit….damn!" Grasping his wounded hand just below the palm, Sam skittered away. Small lines of blood oozed out in neat, evenly spaced streaks. "You stupid thing, I stopped him from shooting you!"

"Told ya so." Dean grabbed Sam's shirt collar, yanking him to the rear of the car, and the trunk. He fished out a bottle of peroxide and holy water, liberally spraying his sibling's wounded hand with both.

Sam pulled away, slapping Dean's hand with his intact hand, "shit…..Dean! That hurts worse than cat scratches." He yanked his hand back, shaking it up and down.

"It fizzed, so see DEMON!" Dean pointed to Sam's hand, looking very smug.

"Peroxide DEAN! Of course it fizzed!"

Slapping the back of Sam's head, making a chunk of his hair fly up to settle haphazardly back down again, "next time listen to me when I say, don't." Turning back to the problem….demon….at hand Dean threw both hands in the air, letting them drop to his sides in disgust. Waving his pistol in the general direction the small, yellow, yellow-eyed demon beast on his car he growled. "Perfect! Just goddamn perfect!" He shoved his other hand against Sam's shoulder so he looked too.

Sam looked, still applying pressure to the claw wounds on his hand, which was still bleeding and hurt like a bitch, in the next second doubled over, wracked with laughter.

"Not funny, SAM!"

The small, furry bundle on the hood of the Impala now ignored them. Leaning back on its tail, one hind leg straight in the air he was preening and cleaning in small, delicate, deliberate licks.

Sam sank to his knees, laughing so hard he now couldn't breathe.

"Really, not funny! The damn thing is cleaning its ass ON MY CAR!"

"We...can get…another….car." Sam wheezed out between fits of laughter. When Dean shoved against Sam's shoulder with his toe Sam just rolled onto his side.

"NOT getting another car, Sammy." Dean took several deep, calming breaths, raising his pistol, taking aim…..and….."Christ, Sam, don't do that!" Looking down, Sam had wrapped his good hand around Dean's ankle.

"You can not shoot a cat in the motel parking lot. What will the Feds think of that?" Sam looked up, the picture of innocence, ducking away when Dean let both hands fall to his sides, pistol pointing at Sam's head. "Uh, Dean….the…uh….gun."

"Where's a damn dog when you need one?"

Sam tugged on Dean's jeans. "Dean." He sounded insistent.

"What?" Dean shouted, looking down. "And dude, hands off the clothes."

Sam pointed to Dean's pistol, "gun."

The cat/demon stopped his bathing, prowled to a more level spot on the car roof and sprawled out, hind legs spread haphazardly behind, fore legs stretched with authority before him, tail twitching, eyes challenging Dean.

"Oh, sorry." Dean glared back at the demon/cat thing which had almost caused him to shoot Sam. "See, it's evil, I almost shot you. That's its plan, make us take each other out." Putting the gun in his waistband, he reached down and took Sam's hand, pulling him to his feet.

The demon/cat thing had the audacity to let its eyelids droop partially shut, purring. Obviously mocking Dean. This called for serious measures.

Dean stuck his tongue out at the demon/cat yellow-eyed thing.

"Gimme the keys. I have an idea." Sam held out his good hand. Dean eyed him curiously for a minute before dropping the keys into Sam's palm. Grinning like a…..well, Cheshire Cat…..Sam jogged to the other side of the car. Slipped from the passenger seat to the driver's seat, started the car and put it in gear. The Impala went from zero to thirty, backwards, in a few seconds. The cat slid from the roof to the hood. Sam hit the brakes and put the car in drive, pulling back into the parking spot when the cat disappeared from the hood of the car.

Rolling down the window Sam leaned one arm and his head out, grinning. "Ha! Cat zero….Sam Winchester ONE!" The cat was out of his line of sight.

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, waving Sam back with the other. "Uh, Sam…..get back in the car." The cat ran across the hood and in one bound was back on the roof.

Sam snorted, reaching for the outer door handle. "What the—shit….ouwww…" He ducked when claws connected with his head. Stumbling out of the car Sam spun, facing the little creature, swatting at it with his good hand.

"Maybe you shouldn't do that."

More lines of blood appeared across Sam's hand, and forehead. The cat hissed. Sam hissed back. The cat spat, smacking with its claws again. Sam backed up. Dean wondered if he'd spit back, which would have been kinda funny.

Grabbing Sam by the collar (again!), hauling him to the back of the car, Dean retrieved the peroxide and holy water, dumping it first over Sam's head, then his hand. "Ya know, just once, one goddamn time you could just stay when I tell you to! Because we're running out of band aids here. On second thought the heart attack would probably just kill me."

"Stop that!" Sam shoved Dean away, snatching the peroxide and holy water, throwing them viciously back into the trunk.

"They'll get infected Sam." Dean said far too calmly. He pointed at the demon/cat thing, "you! STOP cleaning your ass on my car!"

Yellow eyes glared at him for a moment, before the cat resumed its daily regime.

Sam lifted both hands in the air, made fists, growled, turned and dropped his hands. Suddenly Sam was grabbing Dean's arm. "Put your gun in there." He pointed at the trunk.

"I can't really shoot at the demon effectively when my gun is in the trunk."

"And if you take it into a store we'll get arrested and the great Dean Winchester will have to admit that a CAT took him down!" Sam pointed to the department store across the street. Smiling in that evil way only Sam could smile, he nodded a bit, eyebrows went up, then down. "Got an idea."

Dean shrugged, dropped his gun into the trunk, closed it and followed Sam across the street. The toy department was not where Dean usually shopped for his demon-fighting equipment, but there was a first time for everything. Desperate times called for desperate measures.

Armed with their new weapon a half hour later they were back at the car. The demon/cat thing had stretched on its side, tail moving in lazy semi-circles up and down, paws kneading the paint on the car roof. It lifted its head, observed them for a brief second, yawned and resettled, totally unbothered by the fact it was faced with two armed and annoyed demon hunters.

Dean pulled a jug of water from the trunk. Sam's hand on his arm stopped him. "We should use the holy water. Just to be safe."

"I thought it was just a cat, Sam."

"Well, it does have yellow eyes."

Both brothers looked into the trunk at the same time, then back at one another.

Dean nodded, agreeing, "better safe than sorry." He turned his shiny new gun over in his hands. "Super soaker. Cool name. Wish it came in something besides pink and orange."

Sam offered him half a grin, but said nothing.

"Ok, Sam, you take the other side, I want this one." Dean moved to the front of the car, waiting for Sam to get into position at the far side. Super soaker shouldered, taking careful aim…something tugged his shirtsleeve…."Christ, Sam, will you STOP tugging on my clothes!"

"Huh?" Sam's voice floated at him from a few feet away.

Dean looked down.

Sweet blue eyes looked up at him.

"You having a squirt gun fight with that guy?" The blue eyes belonged to a girl, maybe nine years old.

"Uh, yeah, my little brother, gotta kick his a—" Dean cleared his throat.

"You gonna whip his butt?"

"Yep. You best stay clear till the shooting is over."

Eye roll and groan from Sam.

"I have to get my cat." The child, innocent, in need of protection stepped forward before Dean could grab her.

Sam's face crumpled, eyes widened, he mouthed the words 'stop her!'

Dean was too slow. "Don't…." The child was doomed. Damn! He hated when he couldn't save kids.

Before Dean could move the little girl reached up to the demon/cat thing on top of his car, pulling it off. It draped its front paws over the girl's shoulder with a soft, 'meow.' The little girl looked back at Dean, then over at Sam. "I hope he doesn't kick your butt too bad." She turned back to Dean, "thanks for taking care of my cat mister." She walked off, cat gazing at Dean over her shoulder.

Its yellow eyes gleemed and twinkled.

Dean could swear the thing smiled at him.

Sam threw his 'gun' through the window of the Impala, then threw himself threw the passenger door.

Dean wasted no time in getting into the driver's seat, turning the engine over, he glanced at Sam. "We are never, ever coming back to this town!"

Both hands held in the air Sam nodded enthusiastically. "Dude, I'm staying in the car."