The light bulb hummed in the dark room calling forth its unlucky victims as they hungrily buzzed beside the glow. The flies swooped towards the beckoning light, retreating as heat scorched their wings, but they kept perusing their damnation. Blue eyes watched as the flies, one by one caught fire and fell to the floor their lives taken by their desire. Bored that his entertainment had perished, the dark haired man turned his gaze to the sobs that echoed throughout the room. The blue gaze held no warmth, no emotion as they studied their intended victim. A middle aged man cried as blood coated his face and clothing, his arms handcuffed behind his back. The blue eyed man watched, circling his prey a knife in his hand.

"P-Please have m-mercy."

The man paused behind the weeping man, the knife moving in his grasp. He slid his slender fingers against the sharp steel feeling the coldness of the blade. Without a blink the dark haired man plunged the knife into the man's back and twisted upwards cutting through bone and muscle. The man didn't have time to register a gasp as the blade pierced his heart. The corpses head fell forward on his chest, eyes blank. The man pulled the weapon out of the body, grabbing a cloth to wipe the blood from the blade. The blue-eyed male calmly finished wiping his hands before beginning on the rest of the room.

Dean Winchester sat in a white Dodge Charger drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, his radio cracking with static. His green hazel eyes watched the road waiting for Manhattan traffic to hurry up. As Police captain of the NYPD force he could not afford to be late for his meeting. Again. He cursed as the heat beamed down on him, his white shirt sticking to his flesh. A buzzing sound echoed through his vehicle. Dean pressed a large button on the panel, an electronic voice cutting through the heat.

"You have a call on line One."

"Send it through."

"Sir we have an emergency on 23rd Street. Details are on their way." A man's voice spoke through the Bluetooth speaker phone.

Dean silently swore and flipped on his sirens. The hidden lights on his Charger screamed to life as he pulled out of traffic and headed for Lower Manhattan.

"Tell Billy and his boys I won't make it for today's meeting."

"Yes Sir."

The Charger sped through Manhattans busy streets finding it's way to 23rd Street. The phone rang again. Dean accepted the call hating the heat even more.

"The victim is in a building located on West 23rd Street at Pier 63. One single stab wound. More details at the scene."

"Thanks Lieutenant." Dean stepped on the gas, the sweat feeling uncomfortable at the base of his neck.

Seagulls bickered around large boats that whistled near the Pier. The smell of industrial boats was strong as Dean strode towards the police officers that surrounded the building where the stabbing had taken place. Dean nodded, stepping over the yellow tape to open the front door of the brick structure. It was dusty, dark and dank. Dean scrunched up his nose at the smell, making his way to the crime scene.

The first thing he noticed was the cleanliness of the scene. The rest of the building was dirty, grimy even but the room in which the victim lay was far too clean.

"Dean."

Dean turned towards the Forensic officer in charge and smiled warmly.

"Sammy! Good to see you lil bro. Whad'ya got for me?"

Sam Winchester rolled his eyes as his brother winked down at him.

"Our vic is thirty six years old, male, Caucasian, five foot five. His name is Pete Daniels. Worked at the Pier as a shipper."

Dean nodded. Kneeling beside Sam who was reading from his notes, Dean put on clear plastic gloves and rolled the body so he could clearly see the stab wound.

"Strange," Dean murmured. The stab wound was deep but there was hardly any blood seeping out from the fatal blow.

"According to forensic serology the bodily fluids, in this case our victims blood, there should be a huge pool left by our victim after he was stabbed. Whoever did this, they stabbed clean into the heart with brutal precision. They knew what they were doing. Also the crime scene has been wiped of any evidence. No finger prints, no shoe impressions, nothing of any kind."

"What about the blood on his clothes?"

"From his broken nose and multiple gashes along the side of his right temple. He was beaten before he was killed. Most likely from a hard object, something circular in shape. A pipe?" Sam began drumming his pen on his notepad, driving Dean insane.

"Sammy stop the tapping!"

A couple police officers rolled their eyes. The Winchester brothers were always arguing whenever they ended up working a case together. Dean glared at the officers and they hurried back to work, innocent expression upon their faces.

"I'm just tapping my pen! This annoys you?" Sam scoffed as he stood.

"Yes Sammy it does. My ears are bleeding!" Dean adjusted his tie hating the silken material with every tug. It was just too damn hot.

"Whatever," Sam muttered darkly before nodding for the body to be taken for an autopsy, " Evey thing annoys you."

"Jerk."

"Asshole."

"Bitch."

"Ladies please stop with your whining!" Both brothers turned towards a shorter man, with a scruffy beard.

"Inspector! We were just-"

"Save your excuses Dean," Inspector Bobby Singer spoke as he hooked his fingers in his belt loops, " I don't care if you two argue and end up pulling each others pigtails but all I care about is finding the guy who did this."

"Sure thing Bobby, I mean Inspector." Dean grinned as Bobby glared at him. Bobby Singer was like a father to the brothers. He had taken them in after their parents had been brutally murdered years ago and had influenced both Sam and Dean to join the law. The Winchesters had joined not only because Bobby was the Chief Inspector of the NYPD, but they wanted to find their parents killer.

"Now get back to work and act like civil human beings." Bobby ordered as he turned to leave.

"Yes boss." Bobby rolled his eyes muttering under his breath about 'annoying kids' and 'respecting your elders'.

Dean smirked following Sam back into the sweltering sun. Dean shielded his eyes from the bright rays and headed back towards his car.

"Where's your Impala man?" Sam questioned raising his eyebrows at the white Dodge Charger.

"My baby is for after work Sammy. I don't want to risk damaging her beautiful body," Dean wiggled his eyebrows but Sam only huffed as he got into his brothers car.

Dean pulled away from the Pier as Sam tugged out his laptop from his bag. He began typing away furisouly as Dean turned on the air conditioning trying to find some solice from the heat.

"So any more info on our charming dead guy?" Dean asked. Sam began to read through the man's profile, his brown eyes scanning the computer screen.

"Well it says here that Pete Daniels was a regular worker, never late always on man's got a clean record by the looks of things."

"What about any links to any gangs, any affiliations or any kind?"

"Nope, nothing mentioned here. But he was married; divorced with a kid."

"Lets go pay them a visit."

A lithe dark haired man entered a small bakery shop from the back door, his blue eyes scanning the building for any signs of life. He made his way silently up a flight of black steel stairs into a smoke filled room. A large desk was situated by a bare naked wall. Behind the mahogany desk sat a tall dirty blonde blue eyed man. He glanced up at the new arrival his eyes cold.

"No problems I take it."

The smaller man remained still, unmoving.

"No." The taller man smiled, a cruel smile as he continued to stare at the smaller man watching for any signs of weakness.

"Castiel." The whispered name played on the blonde's lips. He smiled as the other pair of blue eyes flickered to his own for a moment before returning to stare at the wall ahead.

"Lucifer." Castiel stilled barely breathing as the blonde stood, his golden blue eyes predatory. Lucifer slowly walked towards his hitman, watched as the man subtly shifted away from his presence. Lucifer was the Mafia Lord, the top criminal in all of New York City. He was a very dangerous man, the only one who would employ an equally dangerous mercenary.

"I need you to do one more small task." Lucifer was in front of the hitman, standing a few centimeters taller. Castiel turned his intense vibrant blue eyes towards his boss.

"Name it."

Lucifer laughed, a laugh that would chill any mans bones. He studied the assassin before him, took in his bed tousled hair, the most gorgeous blue eyes, the strong lithe body underneath the black clothing. He was the perfect soldier; trained and hardened for battle.

"Unfortunately had to come to an untimely death but I need you to pick up his most recent shipment that will be arriving on Pier 63 on the ship 'Lucky Susan'. " Lucifer ran a finger down the hitman's jaw and down the side of his neck. Castiel didn't even blink, his face expressionless. A knock on the door interrupted Lucifer who was taking in every detail of his mercenary.

"Enter." Lucifer commanded his voice dark as he returned back to his leather chair.

A pale tall man entered, his eyes grazing over Castiel before he turned his attention on his boss.

"Boss the shipment that will arrive will be in a wooden box. It is the only cargo aboard the ship. The informant stated that it will arrive sometime between nine this evening."

"Thank you Alistair. You may go."

Castiel watched as the man looked back at him, his eyes sweeping over his form once more. Castiel was confused and disturbed by such looks. Why did everyone seem to scrutinize him with such strange looks? What were the hidden intentions? The hitman did not know, nor did he want to. He looked back at his boss who dismissed him with a wave of his hand. Castiel nodded and left the smoke filled room to prepare for the night ahead.

Dean and Sam Winchester pulled up by the curb of a small yellow house. Daffodils and tulips bloomed at the entranced as a woman watered the flowers, a small child playing on the front lawn.

"Dude they live in a friggin banana!" Dean stated as he leaned forward in his seat to get a better look. The house was banana yellow, the flowers were yellow and even her dress was yellow. The only other color was the white trim and the white fence that surrounded the urban home.

"Great, let's get this over with before I die from an overdose of yellow!" Dean muttered as he exited the vehicle, Sam following suit. The small child on the lawn looked up and waved. Sam smiled and waved back. The mother turned to see what her son was giggling about and saw the brother approach.

"Good afternoon ma'am. My name is Sam Winchester, I'm with the NYPD. I was wondering if we could ask you a few questions about your ex husband, Pete Daniel?" Sam strode froward extending his hand. The woman took off her garden gloves which had mini banana designs on them, and accepted Sam's handshake.

"Sure. I'll tell you everything I know about that lil backstabbing- pardon me. The names Laura Meldford. I reverted back to my old maiden name. Didn't want that ugly name of my ex you know. What did he do now?"

"Your ex husband ma'am-"

"Call me Laura dear."

"Your hubby was found dead this afternoon at the Pier. Could you tell me any reason anyone would want him dead?" Dean cut in. Sam gave him an exasperated look as Laura turned to him wide eyed.

"What? Pete's dead? Oh my," Laura said as she gripped her sons hand, " I can't believe it. Pete's dead!"

Dean sighed as the woman went into a fit of tears. Sam glared at his brother and escorted the woman to her door. Dean formed the words 'what did I do' to his brother.

"Just go wait in the car Dean. Let me handle this..." Sam told Dean who looked outraged.

"What? All I did was tell her ex was dead! She said so herself he was a backstabbing-"

Laura began to sob harder at Dean's words. Sam shot Dean 'I'll kill you later' look as Dean made his way back to his car muttering about crazy loco women while Sam took the distraught wife into the house. Dean slammed his car door shut and lay back in his chair waiting for Sam to be finished with the crazy banana lady.