A Supernatural Fanfiction.

Forgotten Latte

I didn't remember falling asleep, but morning came way to soon. My right hand was throbbing, swollen, and bruised after the fight with Dean. I could only imagine what his face looked like.

The shower was on in the bathroom, and the muffled sound of terrible singing forced me to open my eyes. Sitting up, the cold morning air hit me like a truck the moment the blanket slid onto my lap. A shiver racked my entire body and brought me to my feet. Dean was shaving in the sink directly outside the bathroom, and I made the accurate assumption that Sam was the next American Idol in the shower. I smiled inwardly at the two of them.

Meeting my stare in the mirror Dean said, "You like what you see?"

I made it a point to over-exaggerate looking him up and down. "There's not really much to look at."

He laughed, making a mock hurt face. "Ouch."

I reached for his pants and took out his wallet. "So listen, unless your parrot decides to fly back this way with my bags, I'm gonna need to do a little shopping for something warmer than this."
I walked toward him with his pants outstretched. "Now, are you gonna drive or am I?"

"Just one more minute." He said while shaving his upper lip.

I rolled my eyes. "Any day now Barbie."

He rinsed his face and dabbed his jaw dry with a towel. "You know, you ought to do something about your hair."

I narrowed my eyes at him and made a conscious effort not to do anything with it.

"Sammy, I'll be back in an hour!" He called to his brother.

Same stopped mid-lyric. "Okay! Hey, can you bring back some coffee?"

Putting on his clothes and grabbing his keys Dean said, "Sure thing. I'll have your low-fat soy bean latte back in a jiff."

I couldn't help myself and laughed at the sound of Same grumbling in the shower.

Once in the Impala, I stared out the window until there was a promising store in sight. Dean handed me a card with the name 'Pedro Sanchez' on it.

I held it up to him. "Really, Pedro?"

He grinned and said, "Vote for Pedro!"

I laughed and walked toward the door with my arms crossed.

Form the car he called, "You sure you want some new stuff? Those pants do you some good."

Smiling, I pulled the door open and allowed myself one moment of feeling. Then, it was all business. I scoured the store in search of any jeans that remotely fit. The only ones I could find were a darker wash low-rise skinny. Not my first choice, but better than the acid wash flares that had rhinestones on the back pockets.

Next, I tried hopelessly to find a shirt. And if I saw one more horse shirt, I was going to lose it. Hidden among the pink flannel sparkly shirts, I found a Pink Floyd cropped tee. I looked around and questioned how something so awesome got crammed in with all things rodeo.

Snagging the darkest, least-sequinned flannel I could find and a jersey/jean combo hooded jacket, I checked out and asked to change clothes in the dressing room before leaving. On my way to change, my eyes spotted a really nice black leather belt that the store had no use for, but what else did I have that could hold up my jeans?

With the bought clothes and stolen belt on, I did what I could with the curly rat's nest on my head; one messy bun. As I left the store, I snagged some aviators by the door and put them on before the sun hit me. Back at the Impala, I opened the passenger door and frisbeed the fake credit card at Dean.

"Wow." He said.

I looked at him from behind the reflective lenses. "What? Never seen a hot chick before?"

He put the car in drive and took off. "Hot wouldn't be the word I'd have picked to describe you." He gave me a side glance. "You listen to Pink Floyd?"

I nodded. "Whatever's playing in the shit bars I play pool in."

"You play pool?" He might as well have been drooling.

The worst part? I wished he were.

By the time we reached the motel, Dean and I were back to our regular selves. Sam had finally ended his shower concert after three encores, and was eagerly awaiting the coffee. Dean and I looked at each other with empty hands.

"Really Dean? I ask you to get one thing!" Sam whined.

"Relax Sammy, the coffee isn't going anywhere." Dean said, winking at me.

I stared at him. Who the hell did he thin he was? His face was starting to bruise after our fight, he was cocky as could be, and he was a Hunter. No way was I...

Before my good sense kicked in, I winked back at Dean.