What Can We Say, We're Classy Girls

Four months later.

Riley death gripped her steering wheel, knuckles turning white in frustration. A dead air stood around her, and she felt the hair on her arms stand on end. No matter how hard they tried to get away from the damn Winchester brothers, THEY JUST KEPT COMING BACK! So, Aoife thought it would be a "smart" idea to just stay with the brothers.
"They could come in handy," Riley mimicked Aoife's voice, "They could help us fight this thing." She rolled her eyes and sneered into the night.
—Cuz, when I think about/I think about seven—"Hello." Riley didn't look at the caller i.d.; Aoife, Gramma, and Joe were the only ones who ever called her.
"Hey, You and Dean there yet?" Aoife's high, youthful voice asked her. Riley made a face and glared into the rear view mirror. The Impala's headlights flashed at her, and she melted at the car. "Ri?"
"No, we just passed the junction on Highway 22. Aoife, I don't feel comfortable doing this." She loomed into the rear view mirror again before turning her eye back to the road. A soft sigh filled Riley's ear, irritating her to the core.

It was bad enough that they were hunting a confuser demon, but having to go into a location alone with Dean Winchester—God just strike her down. She didn't trust them, and she was pretty sure they were trying to kill them. Ever since the first night they met the brothers and Aoife accidentally let Dean see her do magic, it felt like the Winchester's sole purpose was to piss Riley off. They kept watching their every move, waiting for Aoife and Riley to go all Hocus Pocus on their asses.
"Riley?"
"Yeah," Riley jumped back into the real world, "Yeah..."
"I think we can trust them. I mean, there has to be a reason as to why we keep crossing paths with them–"
"Because they're stalking us," Riley cut in; Aoife snorted over the phone. An image of Dean and Sam wearing camo with night-vision binoculars strapped the their faces and hiding in the bushes, shuffled into Riley's mind. This time it was her turn to snort, but hers was with laughter.
"Not funny."
"Yes it was."
"No it wasn't."
"Only because you didn't see the image that I saw. So funny..." There was a short pause in conversation as Riley turned down the old farm road that lead to the farm they were investigating.

"Let me guess, Dean and Sam with binoculars, ducking in the bushes." Aoife spoke up with a smirk evident in her voice. Riley's face flushed blood red, and she frowned.
"...No."
"Just stop complaining and get on with it." Aoife ended the line, hanging up on Riley, who threw the phone down in the passenger seat irritably.
She pulled into the drive of the farm with an angry bubble in her chest. Sure, the brothers MIGHT be useful, but... "Ahh!" She pounded her fist on the Mustang's steering wheel. "Stupid Winchesters, stupid demon, stupid, stupid, stupid!"

Dean held his gun up, his father's journal tucked into his jacket pocket. The farm-house was two-stories, five rooms with indoor/outdoor plumbing and a reputation for satanic rituals. Riley's hands were sweating from the dark magic wafting through the room. It tingled across her skin, pooled inside her stomach and made her headache. A low thrum overrunning the house let Riley know that the confuser demon was lurking around and waiting to play.
Riley held her sickle close to her chest, she inched toward the stairs on the opposite side of the living room. There were no photos on the walls, no furniture, no sign that 'human' life held residence here. The stairs creaked beneath her feel as she slowly stepped up them.
"Light." Riley whispered, never really being into the foreign languages—or 'original languages' as Aoife called them—for spells. A ball of flashed in front of her head. She carefully walked up the stairs, only to stop at the top and frown.

A white/blonde haired woman stood in front of her, a smirk firmly in place. Her deep blue eyes flashed with the magic light above them. The mirror image of Riley crossed its arms over its chest. A small wave rippled through it, showing that the image was slightly transparent. Riley swung her sickle forward through the image. It disappeared in a cloud of vapor, a shrill laugh filling the air and playing with Riley's mind.
"Smooth." Dean's voice sounded behind Riley. She spun around, her sickle raised high. He leaned against the door frame with a cocky smile wide on his face. His gun was tucked into his waist band, arms hung loosely at his side, and his hazel eyes held Riley's deep blue orbs.
Riley stepped toward him, a smile now on her face. The demon could confuse people by changing its image and sending the false appearance to the minds of others.( Sam and Aoife's explanation had been much nerdier, so Riley simply dumbed it down.) Though they may waver slightly, the image could feel as real as the human. Riley stood close to "Dean" with her left hand inside her coat pocket. "Dean" smiled, shifting his position so that his chest stood flush against hers.

"You don't think the demon will mind if we take a few moments for ourselves, do you?" She pulled her hand from her coat pocket, her breath slowly mingling with "Dean's" If it answered the way she thought it would, then she would know that it wasn't the real Dean.
"Well, as appealing as that offer is, there's a demon here," He moved away, a smile tugging on his pout lips, "but I'll keep that in mind." He walked toward one of the doors lining the left side of the hall. Riley sneered but followed after the cocky hunter, her sickle raised in readiness.

Dean slipped into one of the doors on the left side, so Riley slipped into the one opposite of it. A small bed was shoved into the corner of the room, a moth-eaten quilt covering it. An old broken dresser was lying on its back, the drawers strewn across the room. Riley felt her insides steel up at the thought of—just the possibility of—this being a child's room. A child who could have been subjected to this...

"You okay?" Dean spoke behind her. She felt her heart twist up as she moved to the dresser, "Riley." This time, she turned around. There were four "Deans" standing arrogantly around the room, smirks pulling up all of their pout lips.
Riley's eyes narrowed into slits, her sickle squeezed tightly in her fist.
"Oh Riley, you look so sad. It's not like the child suffered, in fact, she enjoyed it." The "Dean" to the farthest left of the room smiled darkly at Riley. She thought of fire burning bright inside her hand, her free hand burned hot.
"I believe little Riley here is upset, mad because her heart beats for someone it should not," The "Dean" closest to the door eyed her. Riley mentally pulled her magic into her sickle, feeling it spark in her hand, "but we all know baby hunter Dean will never want someone like Riley,—" She moved to look at the one on the far right, his foot propped up on the broken dresser, "Someone like Aoife though—" Anger coursed through her and spiked the magic in her weapon, "she's someone Dean Winchester would want. Beautiful, talented, and all the guys want her, right."
One of the "Deans" stepped toward her. An evil smirk twisting onto his lips, it kept moving until it was face-to-face with her. Riley felt it trying to push into her mind, play with her and break her down.

"You see, the thing is," She sliced her sickle across its stomach, the mirror image of Dean hissing at her, "I don't care." She swished around, aiming her hand high at the images. The fire lashed across them making them hiss viciously and disappear. She ran from the room yelling out the exorcism in an attempt to get rid of the damned thing. When she reached the living room again, something slammed against her back and knocked her forward. Riley went sprawling down the remaining stairs. Her head banged against the edge of the staircase, feeling the blood raise up. Her vision went fuzzy, and a loud ringing piercing her ears. She looked up toward the ceiling, the last thing that reached her vision were a pair of worried hazel colored eyes.

Aoife's voice was the first thing she registered. Singing, high voice, careful and peaceful. Aoife's singing always reminded her of comfort and home...Always reminded her that there is something better out there...
"Dude, my head hurts." Riley groaned as she lifted herself up. The sun was coming up and over the horizon, bright with annoying cheer.
Aoife laughed, "It could be because you racked your head against the stairs, dingus." She lightly touched her friend's back to keep her steady on the Impala's hood. Riley groaned again, rubbing her forehead, "Dean got rid of the demon."
Riley's eyes opened again, glancing from Aoife to the house. Dean stood on the porch, arms crossed over his chest. Riley's eyes met his and gave him a silent "thank you." His hazel eyes flashed and he mouthed, "Always."
"Okay, so the Winchesters ain't THAT bad."