New Friends
Title: New Friends (AO3)
Pairing: Ellen/Pamela Barnes
Type : friendship
Rating: G
Medium (fic, art, icons, etc.): fic
Word Count (if applicable): 566
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related character.
Summary: Ellen is always suspicious of new faces in the Roadhouse, even when they claim to come from Bobby Singer.
Warnings: None.
Ellen notices when the woman comes in. She can't afford to not notice people, not with all the demons and shapeshifters and plain old hold ups that could happen. The woman's a new face, she's not the type that comes into the Roadhouse and she doesn't have the world weary look of a hunter about her either.
It takes her a long time to make her way to the bar. Ellen watches as the woman sits down on a stool and runs her hands over the bar. She's wearing sunglasses inside and all Ellen can think of is that she's hiding demon eyes underneath them.
"What can I get ya?" Ellen asks and she grabs a pint glass from the stack. The woman looks like a pint kinda girl, pretending to be a little tougher than she actually is. Though her leather jacket is the real deal and it's been worn enough that it's not a new acquisition.
"Pint of whatever's on tap. You have a lunch menu?" The woman asks and Ellen holds the pint glass out to her.
"It's up on the wall." Ellen shoves the pint glass into the woman's face a little more. "You gonna take it?"
"Hmm?" The woman pulls off her glasses revealing empty sockets where eyes should have been. "Sorry, where?"
Ellen puts the glass down and slides it closer. "Right in front of you." She dips her fingers into the container of holy water behind the bar and flicks a couple of drops at the woman. There's no reaction and she breathes a little easier. "We've got chicken sandwiches or a salad."
"A sandwich would be great." The woman takes a pull of her beer. "I'm Pamela."
"Ellen." Ellen says and she opens the fridge of pull out the chicken leftover from the night before. It's already sliced and ready to be put into sandwiches so the food prep doesn't take her long.
"Bobby Singer told me to come here." Pamela tells her when she delivers the sandwich.
"Oh yeah?" Ellen's a little guarded now. She hasn't heard from Bobby in a while, not since Dean went to hell.
"There was an accident." Pamela motions to her face. "I was helping him out with a special project. He sent me on over here."
"Ah." Ellen's just making sounds now, only half listening. She hears hundreds of drunken men go on and on every week, this is just another encounter.
Pamela's halfway through her sandwich when the bar phone rings.
"I gotta get this." Ellen excuses herself and has a hushed conversation with Bobby Singer. The gist of it boils down to the fact that she's not running a damn homeless shelter and she's already got enough lost puppies to worry about. But she owes Bobby more than a hundred different things by now and Pamela's better than some dirty sleazy hunter and she doesn't argue too hard.
"That was Bobby." Ellen tells her new houseguest. "You wanna stay here for a bit?"
Pamela nods and stands up. "I can help out, I'm not useless."
"You need a shower before I let you behind my bar." Ellen grouses, but she brings Pamela into the back and finds towels and conditioner for her hair. "You got any laundry? My stuff'll be too big for you."
"Thank you." Pamela says before she turns on the shower and closes the bathroom door.
Pairing: Ellen/Pamela Barnes
Type : friendship
Rating: G
Medium (fic, art, icons, etc.): fic
Word Count (if applicable): 566
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or any related character.
Summary: Ellen is always suspicious of new faces in the Roadhouse, even when they claim to come from Bobby Singer.
Warnings: None.
Ellen notices when the woman comes in. She can't afford to not notice people, not with all the demons and shapeshifters and plain old hold ups that could happen. The woman's a new face, she's not the type that comes into the Roadhouse and she doesn't have the world weary look of a hunter about her either.
It takes her a long time to make her way to the bar. Ellen watches as the woman sits down on a stool and runs her hands over the bar. She's wearing sunglasses inside and all Ellen can think of is that she's hiding demon eyes underneath them.
"What can I get ya?" Ellen asks and she grabs a pint glass from the stack. The woman looks like a pint kinda girl, pretending to be a little tougher than she actually is. Though her leather jacket is the real deal and it's been worn enough that it's not a new acquisition.
"Pint of whatever's on tap. You have a lunch menu?" The woman asks and Ellen holds the pint glass out to her.
"It's up on the wall." Ellen shoves the pint glass into the woman's face a little more. "You gonna take it?"
"Hmm?" The woman pulls off her glasses revealing empty sockets where eyes should have been. "Sorry, where?"
Ellen puts the glass down and slides it closer. "Right in front of you." She dips her fingers into the container of holy water behind the bar and flicks a couple of drops at the woman. There's no reaction and she breathes a little easier. "We've got chicken sandwiches or a salad."
"A sandwich would be great." The woman takes a pull of her beer. "I'm Pamela."
"Ellen." Ellen says and she opens the fridge of pull out the chicken leftover from the night before. It's already sliced and ready to be put into sandwiches so the food prep doesn't take her long.
"Bobby Singer told me to come here." Pamela tells her when she delivers the sandwich.
"Oh yeah?" Ellen's a little guarded now. She hasn't heard from Bobby in a while, not since Dean went to hell.
"There was an accident." Pamela motions to her face. "I was helping him out with a special project. He sent me on over here."
"Ah." Ellen's just making sounds now, only half listening. She hears hundreds of drunken men go on and on every week, this is just another encounter.
Pamela's halfway through her sandwich when the bar phone rings.
"I gotta get this." Ellen excuses herself and has a hushed conversation with Bobby Singer. The gist of it boils down to the fact that she's not running a damn homeless shelter and she's already got enough lost puppies to worry about. But she owes Bobby more than a hundred different things by now and Pamela's better than some dirty sleazy hunter and she doesn't argue too hard.
"That was Bobby." Ellen tells her new houseguest. "You wanna stay here for a bit?"
Pamela nods and stands up. "I can help out, I'm not useless."
"You need a shower before I let you behind my bar." Ellen grouses, but she brings Pamela into the back and finds towels and conditioner for her hair. "You got any laundry? My stuff'll be too big for you."
"Thank you." Pamela says before she turns on the shower and closes the bathroom door.