"Man, you look like a politician."
Dean flashed his cockiest smile. “No, I look sexy like that dude in that Grey book. Cas said so.” He buttoned a sleeve cuff on his white dress shirt and tucked it into dark charcoal slacks.
"Oh, gross. Why’d you let him read trash novels like that? It’s based on Twilight fanfiction, for shit’s sake.” Flopping back on the couch, Sam tried to suffocate himself with a steel blue accent pillow. His voice muffled under the interior decoration. “You guys are getting dangerously close to brunch and mimosas with little yappy dogs at a quaint bed and breakfast if you know what I mean.”
"I quit trying to talk him out of trash novels and trash TV years ago. He got hooked on the Kardashians when he was laid up with the busted ankle a few years back and everything went downhill from there. Gotta pick my battles." Moving to the hall mirror, Dean looped a green tie around his neck. "I don’t wanna hear your attitude anyway, considering you and your wife are headed toward Nineteen Kids and Counting territory. Breeder.”
"Very funny coming from a guy dressed like a penguin because his husband needs a pretty trophy for political schmoozing," retorted Sam, hurling the pillow at Dean’s head.
Dean cackled at his own reflection. “Ahhh, Sammy. Aren’t we getting a little old for this?”
"Now, now, the future First Lady shouldn’t use such foul language," Sam teased in a singsong voice.
As he grabbed his jacket and car keys, Dean flipped his brother a middle finger and threw a lopsided smile at the couch. “I’m gonna be late. Watch my kid. She’s gonna wake up soon. Strained green beans and peaches in the fridge. Vegetables first.”
"I have two kids, Madame President. I think I know how to feed Lia."
"Don’t burn down my house," Dean sassed.
Exasperated, Sam tossed his arms in the air. “Well, now you’re ruining my whole afternoon.”
The readers on that one are very patient. Fake Married readers and Mary’s Kitchen take more of my time. But I’m doing a Blood Sacrifice chapter tomorrow. The image below is a hint of what’s coming in that one.
Feeling like his knees were made of Jell-O made Dean so much more aware of being bowlegged. As he followed Sam, Wilhelmina, and Castiel in search of their rental car at the St. Louis airport, he still felt like his feet had found solid ground yet. Hell, even Castiel looked better than he did.
"Are you okay?" he asked, concerned filling his blue eyes.
"I hate to fly," Dean muttered. "Fuck, I hate to fly.”
Tittering laughter trailed Philomena ahead of them as she clutched her son and walked alongside Sam through the parking lot. “Ohhhh, you big baby,” she teased over her shoulder and flashed a toothy grin. “There isn’t anything safer than hurdling through the air miles above the ground in a giant metal to with wings at hundreds of miles per hour! It’s perfectly natural!”
"Oh, hahahaha, you’re so funny. Keep walking, legs.”
Wilhelmina’s hand snapped an arc over her head and her hips jutted dramatically from side to side as she strutted. They arrived in St. Louis for such an intense reason, yet Wilhelmina actually seemed lighthearted and carefree as if she had no idea what lay ahead for them. Maybe her faith in healing waters at the Ozarks allowed her that joyous attitude, or maybe it was the knowledge that Crowley and his demon cure were legitimate as far as Rhiannon discerned. Still, being an experienced hunter and privy to the whims of hellish creatures, Dean knew things could go south at any second. He didn’t want to rob Wilhelmina of her lighthearted mood, but he remained cautious and vigilant, ready to fight should anything get too close to them.
The four of them, with the demon baby in question, drove several hours southwest of St. Louis. According to Sam’s map, they headed toward the Arkansas border, though not quite that far. The entire area seemed oddly familiar, but then again, Dean and Sam once hunted Missouri and Arkansas so often that they used to know the roads without needing a map.
"Rise and shine, flowers! Come and face the dawn!" Rhiannon pounded on the motel room door were Dean and Castiel collapsed into bed after arriving in the Ozarks. "Let’s go! We’ve got things to do!"
Groaning, Dean rolled over on his back and slung an arm over his eyes. He never was one for early mornings the way Rhiannon had always been and it seemed Charlie had gotten just as bad about it. The two of them went ahead to the Ozarks by a couple of days in hopes of scoping out the area should they have to resort to breaking into a national park after closing to have private access to the springs. No one knew who the women were, which meant they were least likely to turn up on wanted posters. That, unfortunately, was entirely possible for Dean and Sam in their line of work, often impersonating law enforcement and national park rangers.
"Come on, Dean! I’m hungry!" Charlie shouted through the door.
A heavy, irritated sigh erupted from Dean’s lips. “I liked her better when she was sarcastic and slept until noon. That’s the American way.”
In case you missed how I’ve rearranged things, here you go….
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