(Untitled)

[still_shotgun]

Eventually Dean and I lost Dad's trail. I guess subconsciously I knew it was going to happen. We still got the occasionall call from one of Dad's old acquaitances, and we read the newspapers, and drove to whatever place was calling us. A vampire in the Midwest, some kid raised a zombie in Massachusetts. Old tricks. But now there was no driving

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[still_shotgun]

I noticed the woman when she came in and sat down, but it didn't really register on my radar as anything out of the ordinary. She was striking, yeah, in a whole other category from the giggling college girls by the other wall, but really, just another person.

I guess I just spaced out.

Blinking when I heard a voice, I practically shook my vision back into focus and realized that it was her, the woman, who was speaking to me. The woman I'd been practically staring at for the past... how long has it been? Five minutes? More? This was embarassing.

Way to be alert, Sammy.

Wait, mustard?

"I'm sorry," I smile apologetically. "I must've blanked out. I didn't mean to stare. At you. Or at all. I just got into town last night, I guess I'm still a little out of it from the drive. I'm, uh, sorry."

I hope she doesn't think I'm a total creep. I'm pretty sure I came off like one. Way to make new friends.

Not that I need to make new friends, if everything goes well, I'll be out of here and back on the road with Dean. But while I'm here, I guess it wouldn't hurt not to make an ass out of myself in front of random women in cafes, either.

[died_once]

"Ah, the old blank stare line. You have no idea how often girls get that one. Lucky for you, I believe you."

I smile, albeit not too warmly.

"However, don't get too confident. I don't believe you because of your most convincing testimony, but rather the evidence that surrounds you. For example..."

I nod toward the duffel bag at his feet.

"The size of your bag there indicates that it is likely your only luggage and packed for a trip. I'd assume the reason you have it with you is because you've yet found a place to stay, and are therefore forced to haul whatever few belongings you've brought along with you wherever you go."

I point at his plate.

"Take into account the sandwich, it's too early in the day to assume that you are wanting this for lunch, but you seem sensible enough to not eat sandwiches for breakfast, which tells me that you aren't really aware what time it is, because you haven't slept all night, and to you this might as well be the dinner you skipped while on the bus or train that took you through the early evening and all night to drop you here...in our fine little coffee shop. The fact that you're eating a sandwich also tells me you're new in town, cause everyone who's been here a few days knows that while the coffee here is good, the food generally sucks. I'd have recommended a pastry over a sandwich any day."

I smile.

"...and since I just made you subject to that..."

I snap my fingers at the barista nearest to my table, and then point at the guy.

"Take that man's sandwich away and get him a slice of the coffee cake, will you? We want him to actually like it here. Don't scare the kid off. I'll pay for it on my way out."

I turn back in my chair and return my attention to the newspaper.

"I trust that now that you have a decent pastry, you'll be able to keep your eyes in your head."

[still_shotgun]

Well, that was sort of... overwhelming.

And I thought Dean and I could be perceptive. When we needed to be. I wonder what she does that's made her that way. Where she learned to notice things like that.

But also, she was intimidating as hell, so I doubt I'll be asking anytime soon. If ever.

I smile apologetically at the nervous-looking barista as she places a slice of coffee cake in front of me. She eyes me and practically runs away. Great, now I'm the scary one too. But the strange woman's right, the coffee cake does look - and smell - great.

But that still leaves a number of unanswered questions.

"Thanks," I say, and clear my throat. "But, uh - do you always do this? Usually, if there are people staring at me, I just ignore it until they go away." Or shoot them if they don't. "Not that I don't appreciate it, of course. The sandwich did kind of suck."

[died_once]

"No, I don't always do this to people who stare at me...usually it's worse."

I grin teasingly, though...there is a small truth to this statement, not that he knows that.

"...but it must be your lucky day, cause you caught me in a good mood."

I continue gazing down at the paper in front of me, despite the fact that I had already read everything I wanted to read from it, but giving the aura of slight disinterest gave me some advantage in this conversation...and God knows I love an advantage.

I flip the page.

"So, since you so obviously just blew into town, might I ask where you've come from?"

[still_shotgun]

Oh, good. Now I can let out that breath I've been holding.

No, really.

This girl... woman... she's kind of scary.

I take a bite of my sandwich, gazing out of the window, because she looks disinterested now and I'm just confused. Besides, I don't want to look intrigued, because she might shank me or whatever else she does to people that space out in her presence. But her voice startles me. I thought she was done with me.

Guess not.

"Uh, everywhere, actually," I admit, setting down the sandwich. "My brother and I, we're kind of on the road a lot. Our business takes us all over."

[died_once]

"Ah, a traveling man. My job has taken me all over as well."

Travel the world! Meet exotic people! Kill them!

It's lucky for the newspapers that people like me weren't in charge of writing the classified ads.

I smile, probably not too warmly. Smiling was a foreign thing to me most of the time, and I rarely had a chance to do it. A shame that one of those rare occasions just happened to be terrorizing some guy in a coffee shop. Oh well, to each his own.

"Oh...and for future reference," I nod towards his bag on the floor, "...if you want to be less conspicuous, pull the holster pin so you can break your shotgun down into three pieces instead of two, it's less obvious that you have a weapon on you. Though, judging by the way you handle your sandwich, I'm assuming you don't get to fire it too often."

[still_shotgun]

"Yeah? It's not all it's made out to be. Spending your whole life on the road, it's..."

Lonely, I was about to say, but I stopped. No need to give this woman any more ammunition against me. I can't figure her out. She's being helpful, and then she's being intimidating, but she started talking to me and she's still talking to me, so... what's the deal?

I wish Dean were here. He's better with being intimidated. I'm better with the sensitive stuff. And this woman is sensitive like a stick of dynamite.

"Exhausting," I finish lamely.

Her gaze travels to my duffel bag, on the floor at my feet, and I flush and kick it further under the table. Man, I hope she's not a cop. Dean and I... well, between the credit card fraud, the impersonation of federal agents and the tracking demons stuff, we didn't exactly get around to applying for carry permits.

"Often enough," I say shortly. "A sandwich isn't a gun, miss." It strikes me that I don't know her name. Which is probably for the better. "You've got a great eye for... details."

[died_once]

"A sandwich isn't a gun, miss."

"No, that's true. But it's funny, isn't it? They serve dual purposes. You eat to live, you use a gun to deliever death. So while they are remotely nothing alike, they are linked by their very opposition of nature, and the way we handle life...well, you'd be surprised how often it is the way we handle death."

I pause.

"...so, I guess no, a sandwich isn't like a gun, not exactly, but they are similar in the respect that you will always view them just a little bit differently when they are in someone else's hands."

I stir my coffee casually and then drop the spoon onto the napking adjacent to the mug.

"Yeah, I guess you could say details are my thing. Even if it does for me to become the lunch time philosopher of deli products."

I crack a smile. Been a while.

[still_shotgun]

Her speech leaves me... speechless. There's really no better way to put it except 'this woman is intense'. And I thought Dean and I had the whole detail-oriented thing down. I bet she could teach us a thing or two.

I wonder if she's a hunter...?

But no. She can't be. It's too unlikely, running into another hunter like that. These things don't just happen. Especially not if you're me. Then again, it's not impossible. She could be here for the same reason I am - to find out about whatever's supposed to go down here. Which is something I don't even want to think about until I'm through about two more sandwiches and four cups of coffee. It's too much of a shot in the dark. One problem at a time.

Not that she's a problem.

Just... possibly problematic.

"So, if you don't mind me asking," I start slowly. Dean always said I was good with the innocent face. I'm pretty sure he was making fun of me then, as he always does, but now I wonder if he might've been right a little bit. Right now, that would go in my favor - a lot. "What do you do that makes you so well acquainted with both sandwiches and guns?"

[died_once]

"Any girl who doesn't appreciate a good sandwich is a girl who doesn't appreciate life. These girls that are afraid to eat on dates, men should really be weary of them. Because a girl who hides the fact that she likes to eat, which is a basic human function...well, she probably is gonna hide a lot more than that later on."

I smile, this conversation was making me somewhat hungry. I probably would grab a bite on my way out. Nothing like the to-go container.

"...as for guns, my Daddy was in Big Businesses...that should really tell you all you need to know."