Learner's Permit
“But you taught Andrew to drive in the Impala!”
“That’s different,” Dean said, taking his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door to the house. He had heard the same argument all the way home from the DMV when he refused to let Holly drive home with her newly printed learner’s permit.
“Why? Because he’s a boy?” She huffed, her hands resting on her hips and making her look so much like her mother. Well, except for a few things - the freckles and eyes were all his, packaged on a strong-willed and vivacious fifteen year old girl.
“No.” The gender card? Seriously? He didn’t have time to deal with this right now. “He had some driving experience before I let him get behind the wheel of the car.”
“On a dirt bike! And how am I supposed to get experience if you won’t let me behind the wheel?” Holly argued, throwing her arms up in annoyance. “It’s just an old car!”
He glanced back at her, knowing this argumentative streak definitely was inherited from her mother. “It’s a classic.”
“Whatever.” She brushed off his correction easily. “You or mom have to be in the car with me the whole time anyway…”
“Not the point.”
Holly may be a lot of things: beautiful, smart, and a hell of a fighter - but she was not the best multi-tasker. She would learn to drive in Chloe’s car. Better insurance rates, higher safety features, and a lot cheaper to fix. It would make him breathe easier.
“But….Dad.” The look she had perfected over the years whenever she wanted something from him came easily to her face. Her big hazel eyes bore into his.
No, stay strong, Dean.
“Holly, we’re not discussing this anymore right now. You’re going to learn to drive in your mom’s car. Go upstairs and finish that project before your mom gets home.”
The blonde’s eyes narrowed, the corners of her mouth turned downwards in a frown. Holly turned on her heel before running up the stairs to her room. There was no point in attempting to argue this anymore with him. She would get mom on her side and then he would have to teach her to drive in the Impala. It was a family rite of passage, wasn’t it?
Dean sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He loved her to death, but sometimes….
“Way to take a stand, Dad,” Andrew grinned from the doorway of the living room. He gestured with his thumbs up as a sign of approval.
“Yeah, well,” Dean shrugged. He was always honest with both of his children, but if he had to be really honest, Andrew was more like him in many ways other than just gender. He would understand. “All I can picture is her with her friends in the car….listening to that god-awful…”
Horror flashed across Andrew’s features in understanding. Holly, though diversified in her musical tastes, had chosen friends with limited to no taste whatsoever. The Impala would never play a rap cd as long as Dean Winchester was alive. “Say no more…”
“Yeah, well, we’ve got a hunt, if you want to go,” Dean said, moving towards the hall closet and pulling out his old army issue duffel bag containing a few of the essentials they kept in the house.
Andrew hesitated, scratching his head through the knitted cap he was wearing. He was letting his hair grow a bit and it was looking a little awkward, so he just hid it under the hat: a tip from Uncle Sam. “Mom says no hunting during school…”
Dean’s brow furrowed, glancing over his shoulder to look at his son. “You’re nineteen, dude.”
Despite the fact that Andrew was now a legal adult, Chloe made sure that his college education came first. If she was going to be shelling out a couple grand a year so that he could get his technical engineering degree, he wasn’t going to be slacking off. “So, I’m off the hook if she finds out?”
“Yeah, yeah, go get your stuff. I wanted to be on the road an hour ago.” With that, Dean walked out of the front door with his bag slung over his shoulder. He heard Andrew bound up the stairs to his room. Minutes later, Andrew joined him in the Impala. Dean started the car, backing out of the driveway, unaware of their audience.
They are going to be in big trouble when mom gets home. Holly smirked, letting the curtain fall back over the window.
“That’s different,” Dean said, taking his keys out of his pocket to unlock the door to the house. He had heard the same argument all the way home from the DMV when he refused to let Holly drive home with her newly printed learner’s permit.
“Why? Because he’s a boy?” She huffed, her hands resting on her hips and making her look so much like her mother. Well, except for a few things - the freckles and eyes were all his, packaged on a strong-willed and vivacious fifteen year old girl.
“No.” The gender card? Seriously? He didn’t have time to deal with this right now. “He had some driving experience before I let him get behind the wheel of the car.”
“On a dirt bike! And how am I supposed to get experience if you won’t let me behind the wheel?” Holly argued, throwing her arms up in annoyance. “It’s just an old car!”
He glanced back at her, knowing this argumentative streak definitely was inherited from her mother. “It’s a classic.”
“Whatever.” She brushed off his correction easily. “You or mom have to be in the car with me the whole time anyway…”
“Not the point.”
Holly may be a lot of things: beautiful, smart, and a hell of a fighter - but she was not the best multi-tasker. She would learn to drive in Chloe’s car. Better insurance rates, higher safety features, and a lot cheaper to fix. It would make him breathe easier.
“But….Dad.” The look she had perfected over the years whenever she wanted something from him came easily to her face. Her big hazel eyes bore into his.
No, stay strong, Dean.
“Holly, we’re not discussing this anymore right now. You’re going to learn to drive in your mom’s car. Go upstairs and finish that project before your mom gets home.”
The blonde’s eyes narrowed, the corners of her mouth turned downwards in a frown. Holly turned on her heel before running up the stairs to her room. There was no point in attempting to argue this anymore with him. She would get mom on her side and then he would have to teach her to drive in the Impala. It was a family rite of passage, wasn’t it?
Dean sighed, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. He loved her to death, but sometimes….
“Way to take a stand, Dad,” Andrew grinned from the doorway of the living room. He gestured with his thumbs up as a sign of approval.
“Yeah, well,” Dean shrugged. He was always honest with both of his children, but if he had to be really honest, Andrew was more like him in many ways other than just gender. He would understand. “All I can picture is her with her friends in the car….listening to that god-awful…”
Horror flashed across Andrew’s features in understanding. Holly, though diversified in her musical tastes, had chosen friends with limited to no taste whatsoever. The Impala would never play a rap cd as long as Dean Winchester was alive. “Say no more…”
“Yeah, well, we’ve got a hunt, if you want to go,” Dean said, moving towards the hall closet and pulling out his old army issue duffel bag containing a few of the essentials they kept in the house.
Andrew hesitated, scratching his head through the knitted cap he was wearing. He was letting his hair grow a bit and it was looking a little awkward, so he just hid it under the hat: a tip from Uncle Sam. “Mom says no hunting during school…”
Dean’s brow furrowed, glancing over his shoulder to look at his son. “You’re nineteen, dude.”
Despite the fact that Andrew was now a legal adult, Chloe made sure that his college education came first. If she was going to be shelling out a couple grand a year so that he could get his technical engineering degree, he wasn’t going to be slacking off. “So, I’m off the hook if she finds out?”
“Yeah, yeah, go get your stuff. I wanted to be on the road an hour ago.” With that, Dean walked out of the front door with his bag slung over his shoulder. He heard Andrew bound up the stairs to his room. Minutes later, Andrew joined him in the Impala. Dean started the car, backing out of the driveway, unaware of their audience.
They are going to be in big trouble when mom gets home. Holly smirked, letting the curtain fall back over the window.