Riding the Fence (A Supernatural FanFic)

Part Three

Somewhere between a grin and a grimace, Bobby smiled; glad to see the proof that the casual ‘I could eat’ response had been a complete bluff. Dean was shoveling food in faster than was humanly advisable, not bothering to clear his mouthful when he brought the large glass of milk to his lips and washed it all down in one big gulp. Even while he was doing that, the twenty year old boy was reaching for the ketchup and mustard again, reloading his plate with the condiments. Bobby didn’t say anything to stop him, just watched in abject horror as fry after fry was dipped into the stomach turning combo and then stuffed unceremoniously into his gaping maw.

When he came up for air a short while later, Dean found Bobby watching him with wide eyes and a slack expression. Immediately on the defensive, he swiped at his chin and then scanned his clothes for what he assumed would be a grease stain or a glob of ketchup, but he found nothing.

“What?”

“How does he do it?”

“D‘wha?” Dean asked around a mouth full of his burger.

“Afford to feed you? I’ve never understood how you could put it away like you do. You must have hollow legs. Your brother too. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the six inches that kid has grown in the last year. Is that all you two do on the road is hunt and eat?”

“Well…” Dean said with a devilish grin and an ornery lilt to his voice, “that’s not all I do.”

Bobby rolled his eyes, “Never mind. I don’t wanna know what you get up to.” He tipped his head back to look over his shoulder and called out to the striking dark blonde behind the counter where she was scratching away at a crossword puzzle. “Josey, honey, could I bother you for a slice of pie for my nephew here?”

Dean’s head shot up, one lone eyebrow peaked, reaching high up his forehead, positive that he’d misheard Bobby.

“Sure, Bobby,” she answered, flashing him a smile. She spun on a dime, her long caramel colored curls swaying across the center of her back, but before sauntering away, she looked over her shoulder and gave Bobby a long, deliberate wink.

Dean leaned across the table. “Honey?” Dean whispered conspiratorially. Bobby pointedly ignored the comment choosing instead to watch Josey’s hips sashay toward the kitchen.

Dean turned to follow Bobby’s line of sight and watch her as well. “Oh…well…” The young man got a little starry-eyed for a moment, his head tilting to the side to take in the well put together figure of the waitress. He cleared his throat and sat back down in his chair, running a hand down his chest, subconsciously straightening his shirt. “She’s pretty hot. If she was a bit younger…”

“Kid, you finish that statement and I’ll put your ass in a sling.”

“Aw, Bobby. Do you have a crush?” Dean asked, grinning broadly.

Any threatening remark that Bobby had been about to make was put to rest the moment Josey reappeared in the doorway.

“Sweetie, do you want ice cream on this?” she called to Dean.

“No, ma’am. Just a bit of whipped cream if you have it.”

The second she ducked down behind the counter to retrieve the whipped topping, Dean whipped his head around to Bobby, grinning like a fool.

“She called me sweetie,” he teased.

“She calls everybody sweetie, ya idjit,” Bobby growled.

“Here ya go!” she sang, carrying a perfectly warmed slice of today’s special with a dollop of Cool Whip on top. Dean’s eyes lit up.

“Is that…p-peach?” his voice breaking, he could hardly contain the excitement. Before she could even set the plate down, he had his fork in hand and was making for the flaky dessert.