-This fanfic was originally put under my "Leigh Hayley" pseudonym on fanfiction.net, but I was asked to put it on here, too.

Summary: Bobby calls in a "specialist" when Sam and Dean are struggling on a case. A mysterious, young hunter that no one's ever heard of before...

*CHAPTER 1*

“You know, I really don’t think we need a baby sitter, Bobby.”

Dean kicked at a small pebble near his boot and let out what must have been the most audible sigh ever heard.

“Yeah, Bobby,” Sam agreed. “I don’t think we need any extra help with this case. We’ve always done fine on our own.”

Bobby coasted his wheelchair down the ramp at the front door and joined the boys on the porch. He sipped from the coffee mug in his hand and let out a sigh of his own. “You boys haven’t been on a real hunt in months,” he began.

Dean opened his mouth, but Bobby stopped him with a simple, raised hand. “I know, I know. You’ve been busy with the end of the world and having an archangel on your butt, but that’s no excuse. You’ve gotten rusty.”

Sam nudged Dean and smiled smugly.

“Both of you,” Bobby added, quickly. Sam frowned. “So who is it we’re waiting for?” he asked.

“Another hunter,” Bobby answered from behind his mug. “A specialist, you might say.”

“A specialist?” Dean scoffed. “What’s that supposed to mean? This case is just a crazy, demon possessed, eight-year-old, little girl. What’s so special about that?”

“You boys aren’t always great with kids,” Bobby chuckled. “This hunter only works with kids and their families.”

“Well, if this hunter’s so great, then how come we’ve never heard of him before, Bobby?” Sam asked. “Plus, you’ve never even mentioned him before now.”

Bobby smiled to himself, unwilling to correct Sam in his assumption that the hunter they were waiting for was a male. In fact, she was a girl. Well, a woman now, but Bobby always had trouble admitting that she was actually grown up. It was always easier to remember her as the awkward, pretty little fifteen-year-old girl she’d been when he had first met her seven years ago.

“This hunter is way under the radar. Doesn’t keep contact with any other hunters, works alone, and keeps to…” Bobby paused, not wanting to give too much away too quickly. “Himself. And like I said, he specializes in cases dealing with kids. But he’s good at what he does. Really good. He gets in, does exactly what needs to be done, and moves on to the next case. Simple as that.”

Bobby hoped that would be enough for them. But as always, Sam needed more.

“Why just kids and families?” he asked, joining his brother in kicking nearby rocks.

“He has his reasons,” Bobby answered, simply. “They’re personal.”

Dean seemed to understand that. Truth was, he didn’t know of any hunter who wasn’t in the business because of something personal. But if he was going to be working with this guy, and he had something to hide, Dean certainly wanted to know about it.

“What’s his name?” he asked.

Bobby took another sip of coffee and thought for a moment. “Ken,” he finally grunted.

McKenna, really. Kenna for short, but the boys didn’t need to know that yet.

After hearing the details of the boys’ struggle with this case, Bobby had called her immediately. After at least twenty minutes of arguing, he finally convinced her to come. But of course there was one stipulation. Bobby was to do what he had always done: keep his mouth firmly shut about who she was.

And he had done that for the past seven years. No other hunter on the face of the earth, besides him, knew who she was. As far as the other hunters were concerned, she didn’t even exist.

And despite the boys’ constant argument that they had no qualms with female hunters, Bobby knew they would immediately judge McKenna’s ability as a hunter because of her gender. Especially Dean.

So for now, McKenna would be a man named Ken.

Off in the distance, the three men heard the loud rumble of an engine. It was an impressive motor, whatever it was. A roaring beast mixed with the humble purr of a kitten.

Dean smiled and jerked his head at Sam, silently daring him to guess the vehicle’s make and model based on the engine’s sound, alone.

“Seventy-one Mustang,” he guessed with an uncaring shrug, mainly answering to simply appease Dean and his superior knowledge of cars.

“Dead wrong, little brother,” Dean smiled. “That would be the heavenly sound of a 1970 Chevelle. Awesome car. You might even call it a cousin to my baby.” Dean nodded toward the Impalla and for a moment, Sam wondered if his brother was going to blow a kiss to his beloved car. He shook his head with a chuckle.

“You’re both wrong,” Bobby piped up. “It’s a 1989 Harley. A dang motorcycle, you idjits.”

Sam and Dean looked up and waited for the ever-nearing vehicle to come into view. A blur whizzed behind the trees lining Bobby’s driveway. It was much too slim and far too small to be a car. Bobby had been right and both boys let out a defeated sigh.

They looked on with interest as a gorgeous, mint condition Harley Davidson pulled up in front of the house.

Dean let out an impressed whistle and stood to his feet. “Well, I like this guy already,” he smiled.

The helmeted rider turned off the engine, steadied the bike on its kickstand, and easily dismounted. Bobby’s mouth broke into a grin that neither of the brothers recognized. He shoved his coffee mug into Sam’s empty hands and quickly wheeled his way down the porch ramp and into the driveway.

Sam and Dean looked up and watched as the rider pulled off his helmet. A long mass of thick, blonde hair shook free and fell around…her shoulders.

It was a woman. Bobby had lied.

“Bobby, you lyin’, no good, son of a…” Dean’s curse faded away as he watched the girl toss the helmet aside and run towards Bobby. She dropped to her denim-clad knees and wrapped her arms around Bobby’s shoulders, wheel chair and all. The boys knew they were talking, but couldn’t hear their words. And for some reason, they knew they obviously weren’t supposed to.

Dean frowned at Sam as he felt his chest tighten. He had been wrong about this hunter being a guy, but he had been right about something else. Especially with Bobby’s ability to lie about everything, right to their faces.

Apparently this chick had an awful lot to hide...

To Be Continued...

*Chapter 2*

Bobby led McKenna inside with her duffel bag draped over his immovable legs. She had tried to tell him that she could carry her own things, but Bobby Singer was ever the gentleman, and would hear none of it.

The Winchester brothers followed the pair inside, an expression of pure confusion pasted on both of their faces. Bobby dropped McKenna’s duffel on the floor at the bottom of the stairs and pulled the young blonde into his arms for the second time. Her chin rested on the older man’s shoulder, and the corners of her lips turned up for just a split second. The moment her eyes made contact with the two other men, the tiny smile disappeared.

McKenna straightened up after she gave Bobby one last squeeze, and stared at the boys with a completely unreadable expression.

Bobby stretched out an open hand with a smile. “Kenna, this is…”

“Sam and Dean Winchester,” she quickly interrupted. “Your father was John Winchester, and your mother was Mary. Both of them were hunters, and both died tragically.”

Dean’s lips pinched uncomfortably between his lips, while Sam’s jaw tightened.

“I’m sorry,” she said, pausing for a moment to offer her sympathies, but quickly continued on. “From what I hear from Bobby, you two are some of the best hunters around, second only to him and your father.”

Sam and Dean smiled at the kind comment, their first impression of the new girl beginning to wane.

“But I also know you started the Apocalypse, therefore making you both a couple of morons.”

The boys’ smile quickly faded. Apparently their first impression had been correct.

“And just how do you know all that?” Dean questioned, frowning. “More importantly, who the hell are you?”

“Dean, Sam, this is McKenna Stevenson,” Bobby said, answering for her. He placed his palm in the middle of her back and gave it a proud pat.

“I thought you said McKenna was man named Ken, Bobby,” Sam growled.

“I am a man named Ken,” McKenna cut in as she reached down to pick up her duffel. “When the situation calls for it. Sometimes, for safety’s sake, I use aliases, just like you two, but my real name is McKenna. Kenna for short.”

Against his better judgment, and mostly just to see what she would do, Dean leaned forward and offered his hand. “Like you said, this is my brother Sam. And I’m Dean. Nice to meet you, McKenna.”

The blonde looked down and stared at his outstretched hand for a long, uncomfortable moment. Her eyes grew large and glazed over. She didn’t say a word or make any effort to shake Dean’s hand. Her chest quickly rose and fell as her breathing suddenly kicked into high gear. Her fear filled eyes shot up to Dean’s for a moment, nervously slid to Sam’s, and quickly sought refuge in Bobby’s.

“Is it all right if I go get cleaned up?” she whispered.

“Of course,” Bobby answered, an unexplainable hint of sympathy in his tone. “You know where everything is.”

Sam and Dean frowned at one another. Neither one appreciated the fact that she ‘knew where everything was’. Apparently this girl had spent more time here than either of them wanted to admit.

McKenna nodded her thanks to Bobby, and quickly made her way up the stairs without another word. Dean at least had the presence of mind to wait until he heard the slam of a door upstairs before he went into a tirade.

“All right, who is she, Bobby? Where did she come from, and how the hell does she know everything about us?”

“She doesn’t know everything, Dean,” Bobby sighed. “I haven’t told her everything, because some things just ain’t none of her business.”

“Damn, right,” Sam muttered, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Which goes the same for you two,” Bobby added, quickly. “Yeah, she knows about the Apocalypse, but she doesn’t know a thing about Michael and Lucifer being after you two. And she doesn’t know that you went to Hell, Dean. Heck, she doesn’t even know about Castiel.”

Sam and Dean both nodded, thankful that Bobby had managed to keep some things a secret.

“So it should go without saying that she deserves the same respect,” Bobby continued. “She doesn’t know everything about you two, so that means you two don’t need to know everything about her.”

“Bobby, at least tell us where she came from,” Sam pleaded. “And what her background is.”

“No!” Bobby snapped. The boys jumped, surprised at the sudden steeling in the older man’s tone. His eyes instantly apologized as he glanced up the stairs.

“No,” he repeated, quietly. “I can’t tell you where she came from. Believe me…you don’t want to know.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed at Bobby’s cryptic statement. He glanced over at Dean for help, but his brother said nothing.

Dean understood what Bobby was saying. And even more, he suddenly felt a new understanding toward McKenna. For a moment, he wondered if the emotion might even border along the line of respect. So, the girl had secrets, and obviously some big ones. But then again, who didn’t?

Dean had sold his soul and gone to Hell, tortured countless souls, and came back a broken man. Sam had gone darkside, completely defiled himself with a demon, and became addicted to the power she’d held in her blood. And Bobby…well, Bobby was still somewhat of a mystery. Even to Sam and Dean.

“Bobby, this girl,” Dean said, jerking his chin up toward the stairs. “You say she knows what she’s doing?”

Bobby nodded. “She’s the best.”

“You’re sure?” Sam asked, but immediately wished he could take back the question when he saw Bobby’s cold answering glare.

Dean glanced at his brother, eyebrows raised in question. “Sammy, what do you think?”

Sam seemed to think it over for a moment, but quickly shrugged his shoulders in defeat. “If Bobby says she’s good, then she must be really good,” he answered. “I say we give her a shot.”

The decision had been made. Sam and Dean Winchester, demon hunters extraordinaire, were officially going against every instinct they had, every semblance of common sense they possessed, to trust a stranger that they knew almost nothing about.

“All right, Bobby,” Dean finally sighed. “She’s in, for now.”

The older man smiled and handed each of the boys a beer. Sam lifted the bottle to his lips and smiled wryly at Dean.

“I sure do hope we know what we’re getting ourselves into, here.”

*Chapter 3*

McKenna brushed a comb through her wet, now clean hair, attempting to pull the bristles through her stubborn knots as best she could. The shower had washed the dirt from her skin, and the grime from her hair, but no matter how hard she scrubbed, or how hot the water, it could never wash away all the dirt within her soul.

Ugly, sick, useless…

She could hear the whispers in her ears, the buzzing in her heart.

Whore, slut…

"Kenna?" The kind, low voice brought her out of her nightmares and back into the present again. McKenna lifted her head and looked at Bobby for a long, comforting moment. The corners of her lips turned up slightly. He was the only person, or at least the only man, on the whole planet that brought out any signs of happiness in her.

He was also the only person in the world who knew her secrets. All of them.

And yet he continued to care about her anyway.

"You thinking again?" he asked as he wheeled himself toward her bedside. "Because it's never a good thing when you do that, you know."

McKenna continued to swipe the comb through her gnarled strands as she sat down on the mattress. She reached forward to move her duffle bag and pile of papers out of the way, but Bobby beat her to it. His wrinkled hand brushed over the papers, his fingers running under a few words as he looked over them. He smiled sadly, absorbing each word of her impressive research.

He already knew every word, every sentence. He had for years.

"You've really been working hard," he said, praising her. "I'm proud of you, Kenna, you know that?"

Her lips stretched into a thin line and she nodded her thanks.

Bobby knew exactly what she was hunting, and why. He knew that she was originally driven by hate and revenge, but that she thrived mostly on fear, now.

The fear that dripped from those she saved. The fear that pumped through her veins and fueled her passion for rescuing the young and innocent.

Kids.

McKenna was made of nothing but steel. Her heart was hard as stone, and completely closed up. She hadn't even known how to smile until Bobby showed her how. But kids were her one soft spot. She could torture, exorcise, and send a demon, screaming back to Hell without even blinking, but when it came to kids, her heart softened.

"I'm glad you're here to help the boys. It'll help you get your mind off of this stuff for a little while," Bobby said, tapping the pile of papers with the tips of his fingers. McKenna sidestepped his verbal landmine, and attempted to change the subject.

"You're getting around great with this thing, Bobby," she said, patting her hand on the arm of his wheelchair. "You've done a lot of work on the house. I'm especially impressed by the homemade stair lift out there…"

"You know better then to use your sucking up complements on me, Kenna," Bobby sighed. "It might work on your cases, but don't you dare try to use 'em with me, missy."

"Sam and Dean don't like me, Bobby," McKenna argued.

"You gotta make 'em like you. Give 'em just a little extra information and they'll come around."

McKenna shook her head. She didn't want to give them any extra information. She didn't want them to like her. She just wanted to do get in, do the job, and get out. She didn't want to make any friends, especially them. It didn't matter what Bobby said. It didn't matter how nice or trustworthy he said they were. It didn't matter that they were some of the best hunters out there. It didn't matter how many people they saved.

They were men, and therefore dangerous.

"They're gonna start poking around, if they haven't already," Bobby continued. "I can bet you anything that they're downstairs on Sam's computer right now, looking for information on you."

McKenna winced. She should have thought of that. Heck, she had done the exact same thing. The moment she came up the stairs, and shut the door behind her earlier, she had pulled her laptop from her duffel, and began to research the Winchester boys. She'd known that she wouldn't find any more than what Bobby had already told her, but the hunter within refused to do any less.

"Do you think they'll find anything?" she asked, glancing at Bobby.

"I doubt it," the older man answered. "You've done a pretty good job at covering up your past. Burning down the Police Department that had all those crime scene photos probably wasn't your finest hour, though."

McKenna almost chuckled at the memory, but quickly suppressed the desire. Bobby was right. Sam and Dean would keep fishing until they caught something, but since there was nothing to catch, she might as well offer up a little bit of bait.

"All right, Bobby, you win," she finally sighed. "I'll show them my baby girl. You still got the keys?"

~~~~~***~~~~~

McKenna pulled her damp hair back into a slick ponytail as she made her way down the stairs. Bobby had been right. Sam and Dean were sitting in the living room, their eyes glued to the bright screen of Sam's laptop. His hand shot up and closed it as she entered the room.

She glanced back up the stairs at Bobby, her eyes silently pleading for him not to make her do this. He only offered a nod that told her to go on ahead.

"You guys want to go for a little walk?" she offered, softly. "I have something you might like to see."

~~~~~***~~~~~

"Are we there yet?" Dean asked for what must have been the hundredth time.

The trio had been walking through the woods behind Bobby's house for almost a half hour, and McKenna still hadn't shown them anything worthwhile, yet.

"Almost," she said. "Just another few hundred feet and we'll be there."

"You know we come here all the time, Dean," Sam offered with a smug grin. "And we've never gone hiking in Bobby's woods before. I think it should be our new hobby."

Dean shoved Sam out of his way and moaned his displeasure. "Shut up, Sammy."

"We're here," McKenna called out when she finally came to a stop. Sam and Dean stared at her, and each other, and said nothing.

There was nothing there.

They were in the middle of the woods, with a strange girl they didn't know, and they were both completely unarmed.

It really wasn't the best feeling.

The boys watched as McKenna stepped forward and placed her palm flat on the trunk of, what appeared to be a large tree. She gave it a shove and the tree tipped back.

But it wasn't a tree at all.

Right there, in the middle of the woods, camouflaged by dense trees and thick ground cover was an old, wooden garage that neither of the boys knew anything about. A barrage of thick vines and branches stopped McKenna from getting the door open the rest of the way herself, and Sam and Dean stepped forward to help.

They finally managed to lift it open and, Dean's breath caught in his chest when his eyes hit the shiny silver hood of a car. He took a few reverent steps forward and gingerly slid his fingers along the edge of the grill.

"Hello, sweetheart," Dean whispered, his voice soft and easy, speaking to the car the way a desperate, single woman might speak to a newborn baby. Sam glanced at McKenna and smiled. For a moment, she almost returned it.

"This is a 1968 Shelby GT-500-KR," Dean breathed. "She's mint. Absolutely perfect."

He looked up at McKenna as he tenderly caressed his fingers along the hood. "Is she yours?"

McKenna nodded proudly. "Bobby's helped me fix her up over the years. I found her in an old scrap yard a few years back." Her voice softened as she looked down at her beloved car. Her mind slid off to somewhere else, but she couldn't seem to stop the words from coming. "She looked so banged up and broken. All alone, like she just needed somebody to take care of her…"

Sam cleared his throat in an effort to end the suddenly awkward moment. McKenna jumped at the sound, and forced herself to come back from where she always seemed to go.

She hated it there, more than anything.

"So you rebuilt this little girl?" Dean asked, a goofy smile covering his face, one that made him look like a six year old on Christmas morning.

"From the tires, up," McKenna answered. "You want to take a look under the hood?"

Dean said nothing, but his eyes grew wide and shiny. If that expression didn't mean a big, fat yes, McKenna didn't know what did. She slid around the side of the car, climbed into the driver's seat, and popped the hood. Dean immediately lifted it, while Sam slid into the passenger's seat.

Neither Sam, nor McKenna could see Dean's face behind the open hood, but they could hear his squeal. "Sweet Mother of all that's holy, this baby's sweet!"

Sam chuckled and shook his head. "I think Dean's in love."

"With my car?" McKenna asked.

"No, probably with you."

She smiled, and for a moment Sam though she was going to laugh, but the moment quickly passed when he noticed the Ipod jack in the dashboard.

"You installed that, too?" he asked.

"I did," she whispered, shamefully. "It's the only thing in her that's not cherry, I promise."

Sam disregarded the dig and reached up to grab the Ipod. "May I?"

"Knock yourself out," she shrugged.

Sam surfed through her music collection as McKenna climbed out from behind the wheel and headed back outside.

Dean grinned at her as she passed him. He carefully shut the hood and slid around to the passenger's side. Sam held up the Ipod and let his brother take a look. A familiar list of artists like Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, and Bad Company appeared on the screen.

"Check it out, man. She's like the female version of you," Sam chuckled.

"I don't know about that," Dean argued, pointing to the screen. "I'm not a huge Cat Stevens fan, but still, most of that's a pretty awesome playlist right there."

He crouched down on the ground and lovingly stroked the pristine leather upholstery. "Plus, we haven't seen her hunt yet," he added. "Or checked to see what weapons she carries in the trunk."

"There are no weapons in the trunk," McKenna interrupted them, suddenly. "Not yet, at least. Bobby and I just finished the car a few weeks ago. I haven't taken her out on the road yet."

Sam and Dean almost smiled.

"But if you want to take a look at some of the guns I keep in my Hog, go right ahead," McKenna added, quickly.

Sam placed the Ipod back on the dash and glanced at Dean. They both knew what she was doing. Showing them her car, offering to show them her weapons for their approval. She was trying to earn their respect, and show them that she knew what she was doing. She was trying harder to prove herself than anyone ever had before.

And judging by the pained, almost fearful expression on her face, McKenna was having a hard time doing it.

Sam and Dean didn't need to check her weapons, or anything else for that matter. She had proved herself more than worthy.

"All right, we head out first thing in the morning," Dean grunted as he pulled himself up to his feet. He leaned forward, placed a gentle hand on the Shelby's roof, and grinned at McKenna. "Providing you bring this precious beauty with you, of course."