𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐀𝐍

𝐓𝐖𝐎

Dean watches Katherine Louise closely as she stares at her milkshake. "You're staring," she states, blue eyes never having have shifted from her beloved styrofoam cup.

"Trying to figure you out."

Katherine snorts, turning to look at him. "Like I'm such a puzzle. Eyes on the road, before you kill us both." Katherine's tongue pulls her straw into her mouth. She barely tastes peanut butter and strawberry before she looks to Dean again, this time in curiosity. "What's there to figure out?"

"Maybe not so much you as me," he hums. 

Katherine's eyes narrow some, but decides against pressing him. If he's going to speak in riddles, she won't give him the satisfaction of curiosity. "If you haven't spoken to your brother in a few years, how do you know where he lives?" She asks instead. A brief silence passes as she recalls Dean tracked her down after ten years of zero contact. "Forget I asked." He smirks, looking away from her. Katherine gnaws on the edge of her straw, gazing out at Tuolumne River. "But why would you come find me first, if your dad's missing? And why me specifically?"

Dean lets out a dramatic, exasperated sigh. "Man you ask a lot of questions."

"And you don't answer enough of them."

"It's what my dad told me to do, if we needed anything," Dean tells her. "Go find a Donovan."

Katherine's eyes narrow. "The last I spoke to my dad, he was with yours. Were you with them?"

Well fuck.

After a moment, Dean shakes his head.

"No, they...went on another hunt." Katherine sits back in her seat, staring out at the blacktop with a slightly ajar mouth.

"So you don't know where he is either," she quietly remarks. Then she wets her lips, sitting up a little. "Did your dad say anything—"

"No." Dean glances to her. "I called him—a lot. His number's disconnected."

Katherine is silent for a few minutes. Then she heaves a sigh, setting her milkshake on the bench seat beside her—ignoring Dean's dagger-like glare—and crosses her arms. "What's your favorite color?" She inquires. Dean's glower morphs into an expression of confusion. It was an innocent enough question, and her voice seems genuinely curious.

He wonders if it's her way of keeping a cap on whatever pent up frustrations she may or may not be feeling. His mind, though, is still reeling. If she knows Clay was hunting with them...did he just get caught in a lie?

"I guess blue's all right," he finally replies.

And after beat, "Dean?"

"Yeah."

"It's your turn to ask."

He frowns, glancing over to Katherine. "I didn't agree to Twenty Questions."

"Well I might as well know you a little bit beyond your exclusive cassette collection," Katherine taunts, nudging the box with the toe of her boot. Dean glowers. "Hey," she defends. "I happen to enjoy your music."

Dean relaxes some. Physically, anyway. Mentally, he's still trying to throw her off whatever trail she might be sniffing around. And wrestling with the fact that he's going to have to be on his Ps and Qs while he's around her—she's too smart. "Okay, so med school. That comes after the first four years, right?" Katherine nods. "Did you go to Yale for that, too?"

"No, I went to UF for two years. Did you go to college?"

"Nope." Dean leans against the door. "Favorite food."