Bobby Singer's Daughter - A Supernatural Fan Fiction

Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Nine - Van Ness

In the morning Sammy wakes us by knocking persistently a few times on the motel door, groaning and shouting for him that we're up we untangle from each other and the sheets before pulling ourselves together and get dressed. I pull on my black ripped knee jeans along with a plain white t-shirt throwing on a blue and gray flannel; Dean holds the door open for me as we head out to meet Annie at the restaurant. At said restaurant Sam holds the door open as we get a table on the balcony overlooking the pier, the water is extremely blue and the waves crash against the rocks; Dean sits beside me while Sam sits across from me next to the empty chair for Annie. We each get a coffee not wanting to have food before she gets here, I'm not drinking as much as I did before which is great, I can enjoy the stuff instead of trying to keep myself awake for ages.

"Hey, get this," Dean says looking through his phone, "Dick Roman is funding another archaeological dig, guy moves more dirt than 'The Drudge Report.'"

"Anything on what he's digging?" Sam asks and Dean shakes his head, "don't you think I would have led with that?"

Sam sighs as I look down at my own phone checking the time.

"Annie's not usually one to be late, is she?"

"No, never," Dean tells me, "she's totally compulsive, I'll try her cell."

As he's searching for her contact Sam says, "you know uh her and Bobby, they uh had a thing, right."

"What? When was this?" I ask wide eyed and Sam blushes, "kind of a foxhole thing – very Hemingway."

I laugh, my dad sleeping with a woman in a situation like that, I never thought I'd see the day.

"It's good to hear you laugh," Dean murmurs, "but yeah, uh we may have..." he trails off looking at me and I frown, "please tell me you didn't."

"Uh," Sam stutters and I look at him disturbed and a little off put by his confession, "you too? Who hasn't slept with Annie?!? I mean that's kind of disturbing."

"Look it was a while back," Sam tries to say, "we ended up on the same case, she was stressed I was.... I didn't...have a soul."

"That's a lot of foxholes," Dean mutters to my disgust, "she's not answering; well here's to ghosts that aren't there."

His hand sneaks into my pants pocket making me jump; he pulls the flask out and dumps some of it into his coffee.

"You sound disappointed," Sam comments.

"Ah, it's better this way," he says then turns the flask to my cup, "I mean, even though I wish we could see him again," I nod in silent agreement, "doesn't mean that we should."

We three clink our coffees and finish them in a few swallows.

"So, uh is this us being stood up?" I ask after a while.

"Yeah," Sam says, "let's hope that's all it is."

Paying the small bill, we head back out to the car Dean still trying to call Annie but with no results, God I hope something bad hasn't happened to her. Feeling annoyed I take the flask back out, tip it back and frown the damn thing is empty.

"I uh think I'll give this a refill," I go to head on down the street to a liquor shop when Sam grabs my arm, "you know, Mel, why don't you uh pack it away for bit? All it does is continually remind you of him."

"Sam please," I mutter, "I'm not quite ready for that, okay? I didn't really get a chance to fully mourn him because of Satan being in my head."