Unexpected | D. Winchester

Chapter Three

Once on his feet, he brushed off his clothes, glancing around at the shattered remnants of what used to be a quaint, dimly lit room. The tension lingered, but her playful smirk remained.

"Sorry about that," She shot an apologetic look over at Sam, who was still holding the back of his head from the whiplash of the fall. "She's got a way with men. They seem to trip over their own two feet around her," She nodded toward the whip as if it were a sentient being.

Sam, picking up on her joke, lifted a small corner of his lip trying to hide his smile, though it was hard to do when someone like Serafina had such captivating energy, "Well, she makes a great first impression,"

"Sammy, you good?" Dean's concern filtered through his gravely voice.

Serafina immediately noticed how he eyed his brother carefully - all hint of playfulness was wiped from his face the moment his concern was focused on Sam.

The Winchesters; they were like glue in the hunter community and everyone knew you didn't mess with one without messing with the other.

It was an eerie similarity to her and Jeremiah, despite their distance and complexities.

"Yeah, I'm good," Sam started to stand, though his movements were more slow as he untangled her black whip from his ankles.

She crossed the distance between them, glass crackling under boots, as she reeled in her whip, but not before Sam noticed the runes etched on the handle while she coiled her pretty little weapon neatly back into place.

He glanced up at Serafina wide-eyed and curious, but she quickly maneuvered the rune-decorated whip out of his view and cleared her throat awkwardly, avoiding the question that seemed to burn on the tip of his tongue.

Were those runes?

Yes, yes they were.

But now wasn't the time to get into the magic of her whip.

Most hunters weren't exactly keen on magic.

I mean, truth be told, it kind of creeped her out too, but she was more accepting of the weird and strange world they lived in - and that included magic and the alchemy that came with it from time to time.

She certainly wasn't going to go play nice with witches and start casting spells, but the runes came into her life through a series of twists and turns, a near-death experience, and a prophetic seer who wanted to get her daughter back from a hive of vampires targeting witch blood.

That was a story for another time.

As Serafina proposed a retreat from the decaying room and back downstairs, Dean's gaze swept across the crumbling walls, his instincts seemed sharp and alert.

She snatched her backpack and hefted it over her right shoulder before they headed out.

"I take it you're not just here to check out the real estate of this dump," Dean quipped with the trademark impatience that defined him.

"Not just a pretty face in a leather jacket, huh?" Serafina teased, the determined rhythm of her boots echoing through the dimly lit stairwell. She flicked a demure glance over her shoulder up at Dean who was trailing right behind her.

Instinctively, Dean grabbed the lapels of his leather jacket and readjusted it, his lips twisted into a half-amused, half-annoyed pout, and his eyes rolled.

"I'm investigating the disappearance of Harper Turner," she continued, seamlessly transitioning from playful banter to business. With a nimble hop over the last two steps, she landed with a grace that seemed to contrast her predatory skills.