Carriage House porch, Tuesday afternoon

[givemethehunt]

Dean was kicked back on the front porch of the carriage house with his feet up on the railing, a cold root beer (what? It was early yet, and he had to at least pretend to set a good example for the kids) and a couple local papers

Comments

[sensitivejim]

Jim strode down the street in one of his darker moods, hands jammed in his pockets. "Hey, Winchester!"

[givemethehunt]

Oh, look, it was Jim.

Goody.

"What?"

[sensitivejim]

"You working or what? My truck's missing."

[givemethehunt]

"It probably fled in search of a better owner." Still, Dean folded up his newspaper and set it aside. "Whaddaya buggin' me for? You're a cop, too, go fill out your own report."