A Fresh Start (Book 6 Arrow/SPN Series)

Dive Bars

We ended up driving nine hours with a few quick stops along the way. By the time we pulled into the motel parking lot Roy was looking a bit worse for wear. We got two rooms, dropped our bags off then Sam and I went to check on Roy who was laying across his bed looking like he was trying to stretch out some kinks.

"We're heading out for some drinks, come on."

"I'm good."

"Actually you need to come," Sam said, "We're, or rather I will be researching a few things and figured we could start giving you an idea how this all works."

Roy groaned and sat up, "If you're researching what's Dean doing?"

"Driver gets to drink and hit on chicks, shotgun gets to work," I explained. 

Sam pointed at himself, "Guess who's always shotgun."

"It's a division of labor that's worked well for decades, no reason to change it now. C'mon."

Roy stood up, stuffed his room key in his pocket and followed us a few blocks down to the dive bar we'd spotted on the way in. "You guys seriously do this every day?"

"Not as much as we used to," Sam answered, "Once we found the Bunker and had a home base to work out of we aren't on the road as much, but yeah, before then, this was pretty much our life."

"But when you were kids, this was how you grew up?"

"Yup, motels, pool halls, dive bars and school," I replied. "Made for an interesting education." And for some really jacked up entertaining stories.

"And you still got into Stanford Sam?"

"Yes."

Roy just stared at Sam for a minute or two.

Still wish that had been a better day for him, one of the biggest regrets I have after all these years. Don't think I can ever make it up to him. I should have been happy for him.

"That's, well, pretty damn impressive."

"Thanks," Sam's tone made it pretty obvious he didn't want to dwell on it.

We walked into the bar. It felt good to be back around my people, except for one minor problem. Usually when we hit a bar there's a certain amount of eyes that I get, men sized us up judging possible fight opponents and women usually stared at us, well mostly me for a few minutes. Sam gets a few long looks, but I tend to get a helluva a lot more. This time half the eyes passed me by and locked right onto Roy and the bastard didn't even notice.

"Be right back guys," Roy said and headed to the restrooms. A sea of eyes followed Roy's every step until he disappeared into the back hall. Some of the women took a second look at me, like I was a consolation prize and of those about three or four gave me a quick smile then went back to their drinks or conversations. Am I that old?

"Don't I feel like the jilted ex seeing her guy's new trophy wife."

Sam had no damn sympathy either, just choked down a laugh, "Now you know how I feel. I'm liking Roy more and more."

"Shut up."

We found a table where he could watch most of the bar using the mirror that ran along the back of the bar and keep an eye on the back door. Sam sat across from me to cover the front door, the bathrooms and the ramp down to the room with the pool table and dart boards. It felt almost claustrophobic in here after Oliver's place, I was going to have to re-adjust. The walls were decorated with various neon drink signs snd mirrors, a few crappy band photos and some dents. Warped dark wood floors came out a few feet from the bar then shifted to beat up, scratched black concrete. The ceiling was low which made the lights hang low enough that Sam had ducked a few as we walked in.