(no subject)
Sam stands on the porch, watching as Buffy spends some time with Dawn in the yard. They sit on the hood of the Imapala, feet resting against the fender, and Sam smirks a bit because he can almost hear Dean's voice in his head, yelling about any smudges in "his girl". Buffy catches his eye, and she smiles widely at him before giving him a small wave.
He can't help but smile back, glad that - despite the zombies and the end of the world breathing down their necks - he's here with her. In the end, it seems that their fates are always tied together.
Dawn makes a goofy face at him, and he laughs before taking his cue and goign back inside. Sam can't blame Dawn for wanting to catch up with her sister after everything they've been through the past two weeks. Watching them almost reminds him of him and Dean.
Except the Summers girls had them beat when it came to being more functional and less dysfunctional.
When Sam enters the kitchen for something to drink, Dean is already there raiding the fridge. "Anything good?" he asks as he steps over to the fridge.
Dean holds up two bottles of beer with a wide grin. "Jackpot, little brother," he says as he hands one to Sam. He raises an eyebrow. "Where's your shadow?"
"Sitting outside with her sister." He raises an eyebrow back at Dean. "Where's your shadow?"
"Chatting up Andrew," he shrugs. "As soon as the kid brought up Lord of the Rings, I was out."
Sam hitches a shoulder. "It's a good movie."
"Dude, you and I?" He motions between them with his beer bottle. "Are about to not be related."
Before Sam can form a response, Ellen's voice speaks out to them. "Evening, boys." She steps into the room a tried smile on her lips as she looks them both over. "Bobby said you two would be gracing us with your presence. Glad you two are okay."
She hugs Dean first, and Sam wonders when Ellen became a second mother to them, and especially to Dean, instead of an antagonist. She hugs him next and Sam smiles as she takes his face in her hands, looking up at him as if she's never seen him before. "That really you in there, Sam?"
He gives a small nod. "Yes, ma'am."
She studies him a second longer before smiling a bit and returning the nod. "Good. Would hate to have to put a bullet in you just when we get you back." She steps back and takes them both in again. "So, you're both okay?"
"Yes, ma'am," they say in unison.
She nods and smiles.
And then smacks Dean hasrd across his cheek.
"HEY!" he yells as he grabs at his reddened cheek. "What was that for?!"
"You best be glad, Dean Winchester, that we have zombies breathing down our necks or else I'd kill you my own damn self," she counters in a tone that Sam is sure Jo has heard many a day in her life. "What the hell were you thinking making a deal like that?"
"But you just said you were glad to see him alive," Dean replies, and Sam is amused by the whining tone coming from his brother as he continues to hold a hand to his cheek in shock.
"I am, but not by the means you used." She shakes her head at the both of them. "I swear, I love you boys like you are my own, but you're gonna send me to an early grave." She turns to Dean with a raised eyebrow as she continues, "And your dumbass would raise me from the dead."
"Not if you keep slapping me," Dean mutters like a scolded child.
Ellen fixes him would a look that could kill, and Dean quickly shuts up.
"But I am glad to see the both of you," she says.
Sam hesitates before asking the question he and Dean have both been avoiding. "Any word from Jo, Ellen?"
Her lips thin at the question, and it takes a second before she shakes her head in response. "Not yet."
"I'm sure she's knee deep in zombie mess too," Dean offers. "As soon as she gets a chance, I'm sure she'll call."
Ellen smiles in appreciation, even if they all know it's a lie. Jo's not calling because she's tied up in killing zombies. Jo's not calling cause she's dead. But they are all content in living the lie for the moment.
"You boys good in a kitchen?" Ellen asks as she makes her way between them and towards the food cabinets. "Cause I got 10 girls in the yard and another half-dozen folk in here that are gonna be wanting a meal soon."
Sam and Dean share a look. The Winchester boys didn't cook. Mom was long gone before either of them could be trusted to cook anything more than a bowl of cereal, and when dad took them on the road, it was nothing but diners and fast food joints. Hell, even Bobby had been more prone to throw something on the grill or make frozen dinners for them. Home-cooked was not in either of their vocabularies.
"Usually we just order out," Sam says with a small shrug.
"Cooking's not really our thing," Dean shrugs. "We're hunters."
Sam sidesteps behind Dean as soon as the sentence leaves his brother's mouth. Ellen turns to them with a look that if she was armed would probably end up with a shotgun barrel in their chests.
"Hunters, huh?" she counters with that same look. "Yeah, well now you're my cooking staff." She reaches onto the counter and tosses two aprons in their directions. "Now get your asses over here before I show you what kind of hunter I am."
Sam nudges Dean, annoyed. "Good going," he mutters as he frowns down at his "Kiss the Cook" apron.
"What??!!" Dean replies, still unsure what the hell has just happened as he and Sam make their way over to where Ellen is setting up for dinner.