Author: Restive Nature
Genre: Crossover
Type: WiP
Shows: Dark Angel and Supernatural
Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.
Story Rating: PG-13 up to NC-17 for language, violence and sexual situations. (All higher rated material will be contained in its own chapter and clearly marked at the beginning of the chapter. PG versions of these chapters will also be available.)
Chapter Rating: PG-13 for language
Timeline/ Spoilers: This story takes place predominantly in the Supernatural timeline. This means that the Dark Angel structure of post-pulse America does not fit in. The massive changes will be that Manticore is decades ahead of itself and the characters from DA are born much earlier than portrayed on the show. There is no Pulse occurring. Any other changes to the structures or episodes of the shows will be (hopefully) explained within the story itself.
Pairing: None at this time. (The pairing will become evident. *grins evilly*)
Summary: Change can be a choice and you never know where the road you choose to take will lead you.
When It Changes
Chapter Nineteen
Baby Of Mine
“Once again a lovely meal Molly,” John sighed as he pushed his chair back from the large oak table. Their host, Molly Gallagher smiled and nodded to acknowledge the compliment. Before she could rise though, to begin clearing the meal away, the children, though you could barely call Sammy and Max that, let alone Dean, jumped up and beat her to it.
They’d stayed for a visit after Molly had extended an invitation through Max. It had been nice to take a small break from hunting. Although they did take a four day trip up to the ghost town of Bannack, it didn’t really count since no actual hunting was done. Except when Dean thought he’d lost the car keys. He swore up and done that a poltergeist had squirreled them away, but in reality, it had been Sam. That had started off yet another prank war that John and Max had to avoid. Although they certainly weren’t shy about providing the boys with certain ideas. John and Max had seemed to develop a good natured contest about topping each other’s ideas. Whether or not they were used by the boys didn’t seem to matter.
They’d returned to Molly’s in high spirits which made the older woman glad. She’d long ago thought that these children and John had way too much to deal with. The kids had had to grow up fast and lonely and they needed time to be children. Even Dean needed the chance to be a young man. And in realizing that fact again, Molly had invited them to stay longer. Since John knew of no pressing jobs to be done, he’d agreed. But only after he was certain that it was no imposition on Molly.
When the kids were done clearing the table away, they waited to see if Molly had anything planned. Usually she liked to play cards in the evening and sometimes board games. Since she was their hostess, they graciously gave in, but after a few rounds of this together time, they found that it wasn’t that bad and began to look forward to it. Some nights she and John just talked over coffee. And it seemed now that that’s what she wanted to do.
“Max?” she asked softly as the girl took her seat. Max straightened her chair and then gave her full attention to Molly. “Have you told your father what Justine told you?”
Max shook her head. That was one nice thing about coming back to Geraldine. She got to see old friends. It had been a number of years since she’d seen anyone from around here and she’d been startled by the change four years had wrought in her friend. And she was sure that Justine had been just as surprised.
“She told me that Mr. Larson is going to be doing a driver’s Ed course, starting next week,” she informed her family. And as she expected, there were ‘so what?’ looks all around.
“If you’re interested,” Molly interjected, continuing on the vein of conversation for the girl, “Max can still sign up for it. With that course, she’d be eligible to get her driver’s license now instead of waiting another year.”
Now there was interest and if she read them right, slight looks of jealousy from Sam and Dean.
“I thought she had to be a resident to get her license,” John frowned. This was unexpected. But not altogether a bad idea. His first thought went straight to hunting. Having Max legally able to drive was a bonus in case any of them were too hurt to drive. Not that he could foresee a situation where it would occur, but it never hurt to be prepared.
“But she is,” Molly smiled. “Technically you all are.”
“How can we be?” John countered with his own smile. “We were only here for nine months.”
“Yes, but you didn’t let the post office know that you’d moved until well after you were gone. So based on that technicality, you officially lived in Geraldine for well over a year,” Molly concluded. John let out a short bark of laughter. Truthfully, he had forgotten about the post office box they’d had until a letter had been forwarded to them from it. Only then had he taken steps to shut it down. At least he’d gotten another credit card out of it. But nothing that linked them to the town remained, except for their friendships that they’d made with certain residents.
Turning to his daughter, John perused her face, wondering why she hadn’t mentioned this to him. “Is this something you want to do?” he asked of her casually. He got a shrug in reply. He turned back to Molly. “How long is the course?”
“Rich said it’ll be eight weeks,” Molly answered promptly.
“Can we even stay that long?” Sam asked worriedly. John knew from his son’s tone of voice that the boy would like to stay. But the same thing occurred to him. Staying with Molly a few weeks was one thing, staying put in a town they’d left behind them, for two months might be pushing things. They’d run last time because something had been getting close to his family and all his senses had been urging him to get the hell out of there. But again, there were only so many times they could cross over the continental United States without backtracking somewhere.
“I don’t think we can,” John sighed. Sam was right, even though there was nothing right now; something was bound to turn up as it usually did.
“Well actually,” Molly hedged, setting her coffee cup down, mentally steeling herself for the announcement she was about to make. “I did have another reason for asking you to stay on a little longer.”
“What’s that?” Dean asked with an impish smile. He’d had the feeling right from the start that Molly hadn’t invited them for their own good. He knew of course that she liked having people around to talk to. But every once in a while, he’d catch her giving them these sort of measured looks.
“I was wondering if you’d be able to help me pack up the house,” she blurted it out, knowing that there was no way to cushion the surprise.
“You’re moving?” Sam demanded in surprised tones. It was unexpected of course. They all knew that Molly Gallagher was a mainstay in this town. She’d been there for so long, everyone knew her. “Where to?”
“Well,” Molly sighed, “as I wrote to Max, my youngest daughter and her family moved back east this past winter. That means all of my family is more than a few states away. And while I don’t mind traveling to see them, I am getting on in years and I really don’t like to fly all that well.” There was a muffled snort from Dean who agreed readily with her on the flying part, though he didn’t elaborate on his own fears. “I’ve also had some interest about selling the store.”
“You didn’t mention that,” Max accused with a smile. Since Molly had mentioned the move before, it seemed an easier blow to take for the youngest Winchester. But then, she’d already decided that with as much traveling that they did, it would be just as easy to visit Molly wherever she settled down, as it was to visit her here.
“Well, after I talked to the kids that are working for me now,” Molly explained, “they went home and told their parents.” She glanced at John with a lopsided grin. “You know how gossip spreads?” She got an answering smirk in reply. “Things got started and a group of locals wants to buy the grocery store from me. Sort of turn it into a co-op.”
“That might not be such a bad thing,” John acknowledged. Molly’s nod showed her agreement with the assessment.
“So what I was thinking,” Molly continued, “was that it would be nice to have some strong young men to help me pack things and get them shipped off.”
“You sound like you already have a place to go to,” it was Max’s turn to sound surprised, for though she knew about Molly’s plans, she just didn’t know how far they had progressed.
“I do,” the older woman confirmed. “I was trying to settle on a place which was fairly central to my family. That way I could be close to them all and wouldn’t have to travel too much father from one to another. And be somewhere close to them so they might be inclined to come see me,” she added wryly. “And I got to talking with an old friend. She recently lost her husband and was talking about moving into a smaller place. We discussed and debated and finally decided on Arlington Heights, Illinois. We won’t exactly be neighbors, but close enough to visit each other,” she ended her explanation with a note of finality, looking to see the various reactions.
“It sounds like everything is taken care of,” John nodded thoughtfully. Either way, he wasn’t concerned where Molly lived, just as long as she was happy. It wasn’t his place to judge her actions. “But are you sure that your kids wouldn’t be in a better spot, or rather wouldn’t they like the chance to say goodbye to their childhood home?” He asked the question seriously, knowing the weight his query would hold with Dean. Of the two boys, he was the only one that really could say he had had a childhood home. One that had been destroyed by something beyond imagining.
Molly was nodding. “I did tell the children, unfortunately none of them can make it until summer and then only for two weeks. Jeannie just started her job,” she explained, referring to the daughter that had just moved. “She’s not even sure she’ll get time off yet.”
“But what about this driving course you want Max to stay for?” Sam interjected. He was having trouble connecting the two issues in his mind as they were obviously linked in Molly’s. “Won’t it only take a few weeks to pack up?”
Molly’s chuckle lightened the serious moment. “Only if I was as young as you Samuel,” she teased. “There are a lot of things to go through,” she muttered. “I’ll be moving from a four bedroom house into a two bedroom apartment,” she explained.
“And as for the driving course, I just thought it would be something Max would enjoy. Plus it would give her the chance to visit with Justine more.” There was a long pause as each took in the conversation and their own thoughts on it. Finally John spoke up.
“I’ll think about it,” he deferred, “if Max is interested in it.”
*****
“I passed!” Max shouted excitedly as she raced into Molly’s home. As she’d expected, three male Winchester head’s shot up and her voice was enough to bring Molly from the front bedroom. She waved the certificate stating that she had completed the driver’s education course with top marks, in the air. With a grin Dean jumped up from where he’d been taping up a packed box to look over her paper.
“All right Maxie,” he turned to give her a hug. “Nice going.”
John and Sam followed after and gave her their own hugs while Molly leaned against the entryway and took it all in. Once the males had finally let her loose, Max stuck the paper between her teeth and began to pull off her sweater, while ambling over to the older lady.
“You’re not a dog Max,” Molly chided, amused at the girls antics. She pulled the paper loose and looked it over as well. “Very good dear,” she said simply, and then glanced up at the others. “Well, I’d say a congratulation dinner is in order.”
But Max was already shaking her head. “How about we wait until I actually get a license,” she offered impishly. She turned to John. “Mr. Larson said that we can go up and take the test anytime. But all the kids are probably gonna go up on Saturday,” she mentioned, meaning Great Falls, where the licensing test was issued. “I figured if I could go up Friday, then I’d beat the rush.” She turned back to Molly. “And then I’d also be here to help out with the garage sale Saturday.”
“That works for me,” John decided easily enough. Truthfully, it had been a wonderful respite for the past two months. Life had continued much the same as when they’d lived here before. The only differences were that they were staying with Molly and the kids weren’t in school. Because Max’s driving classes had only been three times a week in the afternoons (Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday), they were able to go on a few hunting trips, as long as they had her back by Tuesday afternoon. She had even driven a few times, with Dean and John taking turns instructing her. But as her certificate attested, she hadn’t really needed their advice, since driving just seemed to come naturally to her.
Max never bothered to tell them that she’d learned to drive Jeep’s and Humvee’s at the tender age of eight. All thanks to her screwy Manticore upbringing. The only thing she’d really needed to do was update herself on driving and pedestrian laws. And it was smooth sailing from there.
“You’re assuming you’ll pass on your first try,” Sam pointed out, amused. Honestly, he didn’t doubt that Max would pass, but he had to tease her a little bit.
“Yeah Sammy,” Dean jumped in mercilessly, “we all know that you passed on your first try. So if you could do it, we know it’ll be a cakewalk for Max.”
“You’re just jealous Dean,” Sam chuckled. “Why did you fail the first time? Couldn’t keep your mind off all those girls you were going to impress with your license?”
“At least I had girls to impress Sam,” Dean mocked him right back.
“Oh cut it out you two,” John got involved before it could become another episode of name calling and rolling around on the floor. Too many of the boxes held breakable items. He shared a glance with Molly before the other woman disappeared back to the room she’d come from, all of them hearing her peals of laughter.
*****
“So, we all ready to head out to Bobby’s?” John asked once more. He got tired assents for the most part from the kids. The Impala was loaded up with their gear. He, Molly and Max had just returned from taking all the items of Molly’s that didn’t sell at the yard sale over the weekend, up to the Goodwill store in Great Falls. Later on in the afternoon, after Molly had completed the transaction of selling her house, with their former landlord, they would head out for the last time.
Molly had insisted on springing for hotel rooms for her last evening in the state and had invited the Winchester’s to join her. Her flight was to leave Tuesday morning and she had invited them to dinner and a movie. Because it had seemed to mean so much to Molly and to Max, John had agreed. He wasn’t very happy about Molly spending her money on them, but she assured him that she had wisely kept a part of the grocery co-op business for herself. And with the small influx of people moving into the area, she’d gotten a better than hoped for price on her house.
Once they’d seen her off, they were heading out to his old friends place. Bobby had an old junkyard, full of broken down and beat up vehicles. Most of them ran, after a certain fashion and John had a few reasons for going. First off, he’d noticed that in all their time teaching Max how to drive, she hadn’t had much chance to drive a manual. Sammy hadn’t either and he was of the old school mind set that this was a necessary evil. True, most vehicles they ended up driving were automatics, but on the odd chance, it was a good skill to have. Secondly, Bobby had some books that he wanted to look at. And lastly, things were starting to get crowded in the Impala. Dean was becoming proprietary over the Impala now that both Sam and Max had their licenses.
John didn’t mind that. Dean took such good care of the car that John knew he was leaving it in good hands. And he wouldn’t mind something else to drive. If he was lucky, he’d be able to talk Bobby into letting him pick something out, repairing at his own time and cost.
The day moved on and once Molly had returned, Dean and Sam politely picked up her luggage while the woman said her last farewell’s to the house she’d known for the majority of her adult life.
It was a short farewell. There was some disagreement over who would sit in the front seat and the kids finally won their own way by simply crawling into the backseat to let Molly have the front. The trip up to the city was anything but silent as the kids reminisced with Molly over the surprise going away party the community had thrown for her the previous evening. And John did not let on that he knew the kids were up to something. He’d overheard them talking with Molly, though he didn’t know what about. All he knew was that Molly was supposed to distract him tonight so that they could accomplish whatever it was they had in mind.
Little did John know that they’d already finished most of their surprise, since Molly had suggested to them that they have their portraits done, since John seemed to have so few pictures of the boys, all of which he kept locked away from sight as if they were more precious than gold. In their own way, they were. And none at all of Max. They’d talked it over and decided to go ahead with it, but it didn’t make much sense for them to pay a portrait studio a huge fee for tons of pictures that they wouldn’t be sending to anyone.
Instead, they’d used the digital camera that Molly had received from her grandchildren to take some nice pictures. Now the only thing left was to get them printed out. And that’s where Molly came in. She was already insisting to John that she had to stop for a few necessities for her plane ride. John was amenable.
As soon as the kids got in the store, they nodded to Molly who grabbed John by the arm and dragged him over to the carts. She pulled one loose and set it before him. He gave her an unbelieving stare and then sighed heavily before pushing the cart after her. She headed for the health and beauty section, not even bothering to glance behind her. John did and glared at all three of his children, doubled over in silent laughter. He shook his head and continued on, hoping to get this over and done with quickly.
Once Molly and John had turned a corner, Dean grabbed each of his siblings by an arm and nudged them in a different direction. The trio hurried off to the photography booth set up in the one hour development center. After a quick read through of the instructions listed on the booth, Sammy got started on transferring the pictures that Molly had taken of them. After some discussion and tampering, they finally had the result they wanted. They took it over to the counter and Dean paid for it while Sam and Max admired what a good job Sam had done on tweaking a few things. They were back to Molly and John in twenty minutes.
John knew that the kids had taken off, but he figured since they were in a crowded shopping store and they were together, they should be all right. Plus the kids had their cell phone and he had his. Molly was deliberating over some hand lotions, since she swore up and down that her hands got severely chapped when she flew. He sensed the kids, more from their low laughter and turned to see them sauntering up the aisle towards them. The way Dean was holding something, already bagged, told John that they indeed had a surprise in store for him.
“So have you got you’re little surprise all figured out?” he demanded. Sam and Dean looked slightly surprised that he was onto them, though they should have known better by experience. Max just nodded happily.
“Yup!” she announced grandly, not seeing any reason to keep hidden the fact that they were up to something. “It’s all taken care of.”
“It’s not dangerous, is it?” John questioned with good humor. “It’s not gonna turn my hair blue or something, is it? And get that nasty little thought out of your head right now Dean!”
The kids ignored his query, as Max turned to the boys, excitement shining in her eyes. “Ooh, hair dye! I want to dye my hair!”
“Not blue,” Sam shook his head. “That would be a little too freaky.” Max gave him a small shove and Sam retaliated with a poke in her shoulder.
“Of course not dumb ass,” she snorted. “We’re all ready freaky enough without announcing it to the world.”
“You could go redhead,” Dean suggested with a chuckle. “Or blonde. I know from experience that they really do have more fun.”
“I don’t think that last bimbo you picked up at that bar is really a good role model for Max,” Sam smirked. He flinched when Dean gave him a shove.
“You’re just jealous Sammy,” Dean taunted as in unison the kids began to head over to where the hair products were kept. “But don’t worry, one of these days we’ll find you a nice girl to…”
“To do what Dean?” Max’s voice piped up, filled with insatiable curiosity. “What did you guys do? You were out all night? And you know, something tells me she wasn’t a natural blonde. Was she Dean?”
John nearly choked on his own laughter, wondering how his ladies man of a son would answer that question. But if Dean ever did respond, he didn’t hear since they were further away now. He’d have to make sure that he spoke with Dean later about what was appropriate for the younger ears, though he had a sneaking suspicion that Dean was a little more circumspect with Max than he was with Sam. He turned to find Molly grinning at him.
“Thos kids are gonna be the death of me,” he joked. She nodded and deposited the lotion she’d chosen into the cart and led the way for more of this torture called shopping.
*****
“Bobby!” John called as he climbed out the Impala, stretching his back and arms slightly. They’d driven almost non-stop from Montana to get there. “You here?”
Before an answer came from the house or the junk yard, he was met by a careening ball of fluff that had decided to attack his legs. John realized almost immediately that Bobby had finally decided to get another dog to replace the one that he’d lost on a hunt a year or so ago. And while he wasn’t the type to be cruel to animals, he was about ready to stomp on the pup to get it to leave his boots alone.
The Winchester clan might not worry too much about fashionable clothing, but they all agreed that boots were sacred. When you did what they did, you learned to take care of your feet and your back. And that meant that there was no way that John was going to let this pup ruin his two hundred dollar pair of boots, even if he had run them on a fake credit card.
Just as he nudged the overeager pup away, he heard the screen door creak open and slam shut.
Bobby stood on the porch, watching impassively as his new dog tore at John’s leg.
“Call your damn dog off!” John ordered. He swore he could see a hint of a grin on the other man’s face. “Damn it Bobby! You can’t still be pissed?”
“Didn’t say I was,” Bobby finally called back. “The only problem I have is that that damn pup won’t listen to a thing I say.”
By this time, the kids had woken up and glad to see that they were at Bobby’s place finally, were climbing out of the car. The pup, distracted by the noise of three car doors opening, let loose of John and started barking excitedly as it ran to investigate the other newcomers.
“Rumsfeld! Get down!” Bobby yelled as he started off the porch. John frowned at him. Sure, he’d try and keep the dog off the kids, but not him. But just as Bobby had said, the puppy wasn’t listening. Currently it was darting between Sam’s legs as the gangly youth stepped high to avoid the little animal. Max and Dean were chuckling over the sight until the dog discovered that some heavenly smell seemed to be emanating from Dean’s leather boots. A smell attracting him straight to the other male and then it was Dean’s turn to try and avoid the spirited animal.
“Rummy, I said get down!” Bobby grimaced, knowing that there’d be hell to pay if Dean’s boots were ruined. Dean kept trying to push the dog away with one foot, while keeping his balance and not hurting the animal.
“Get the hell off me mutt,” Dean growled.
Bobby shook his head. “Hang on; I’ll go get some food. It’s the only way to distract him.”
But before he could retreat back to the house, Max decided to take matters into her own hand. She stepped forward and, seemingly uncaring of the puppy’s snapping jaws, caught the tiny Rumsfeld’s muzzle in her hand. She forced the puppy back and into sitting position, and then pulled his jaw up to look her square in the face.
“Rumsfeld, down!” she thundered. She let go and the puppy whimpered, cowering before her feet. The males exchanged wondering glances with one another.
Max knew they were surprised but didn’t worry. She’d put enough authority into her voice that the dog knew she meant business. The only thing that made her wonder about it was noticing the new scent coming off the dog. Her mind seemed able to process it, telling her instincts that she’d cowed the puppy. There was fear, respect and something else coming from the dog. She took a second to try and inhale other scents around her.
She knew that she had a heightened sense of smell, thanks to the wonderful geneticists at Manticore. But she hadn’t realized before now that she could actually categorize the distinct pheromones given off from odors. All around her she could smell anger and puzzlement. She turned her head slightly and took a quick sniff at herself. Underneath the soft scent of the deodorant she wore, and the clean sharp scents of her laundry detergent and shampoo, she could smell something she could only classify as dominance.
And if the way the men were looking at her was any indication, they sensed it too. But as her mind rapidly worked, she realized that they were reacting to the scents on a primitive level. They probably weren’t categorizing it like she was, just accepting what the most primal indicator of their brains were telling them. Namely, step lightly around Max right now.
Concerned that they would become concerned over her behavior and start to ask questions that she wouldn’t be able to answer, Max tried consciously to pull back that dominance. The scent faded slightly and she was pleased to discover that a new scent had taken its place. It was calming to her and apparently the pup, realizing that it was because she was forcing herself to calm down.
Obviously the puppy noticed it as well, since he began to whine and wriggle forward, lying on all four paws, and his body low to the ground. Max dropped down to her knees and ruffled the dog’s ears. “Ooh, who’s a good boy?” she crooned. The puppy yipped excitedly and began to rain sloppy puppy kisses on her throat and cheeks. She giggled and hugged him close to her.
“I’ll be damned,” Bobby whistled. “I was about ready to give up on that dog ever listening to anything.”
“He just needs to know who’s boss,” Max replied. She finally pushed Rumsfeld’s nose away from her. The puppy further surprised them by obeying the simple gesture and ceasing his ecstatic greetings. He lay on Max’s feet after the girl stood.
“Maybe you’ll train him up a little for me,” Bobby grinned. “If you’re gonna be stayin’ a while.”
Max pretended to think it over. Honestly, she had no clue how to go about actually training a dog. They’d never worked with the dogs that the guards and trainers had back at Manticore. All she could think of was just what was instinctual.
But maybe that was what the dog needed, just someone that he’d listen to, to show him the way things were done. He seemed like a bright, intelligent animal. Just high strung in a puppyish way. She shrugged once. “I can try, I guess.”
“Better than nothing,” Bobby shrugged as well and then pulled his arms up in a welcoming gesture. “Well, let me see y’all.” The kids exchanged grins with one another while they straightened up for inspection.
It wasn’t exactly like how John pulled inspection on them. Bobby just wanted to take in their faces and see what changes had been wrought since the last time they’d visited. Dean was much the same as he’d been before, but he was a man now and Bobby knew that any changes wouldn’t be of the physical maturation type for quite a while.
Sam on the other hand, must have shot up at least a good six inches. Bobby was surprised to see that the boy, no darn it, the kid was eighteen now, had to start thinking of him as a man as well. Well, Bobby was surprised to see that Sam was taller than he by a good bit. Somehow, the young man had managed to hide it while he was sitting and by slouching a little when he stood. Bobby remembered vaguely, that twilight time of leaving the last vestiges of puberty behind. He was confident that Sam would learn to be less self-conscious of his height.
Lastly, he turned to Max. Although he’d known the family for almost all of the boy’s lives, he’d only met her a scant few times. But in that first meeting, he’d seen quickly how and why she’d had the Winchester males wrapped around her pinky. And it didn’t take long before her sassy little mouth had him in the same tight spot John was in.
“Well I’ll be darned,” he chuckled, reaching out to play with a strand of her newly dyed hair. He glanced back at John. “She kind of reminds me of Charlene. Remember her?”
John shrugged. Honestly he didn’t remember who Bobby was speaking of, but it didn’t matter. The wide grin on his friend’s face was enough to tell them all that Charlene had been a good thing in his life. He turned back to Max.
“Although I think you’re a shade or two darker,” Bobby mused. “Kind of like the sky when the sun goes down.”
“Do you like it?” Max asked sounding kind of breathless, and surprisingly, girly. Bobby pulled her forward in a quick one-armed hug.
“I do sweetheart,” he nodded. He let her loose and it was almost a signal for things to move again.
“You know, I’d swear that she was born a redhead and just hiding it from us all this time,” Dean teased as he retrieved the car keys to open the trunk.
“Yeah, ‘cause she sure has got the temper to match it,” Sam chimed in, teasing his sister good-naturedly. Max just arched an eyebrow in their direction.
“Well, if I’m so temperamental, then you can just carry in my bags for me,” she stated haughtily.
“Oh no you don’t miss high and mighty,” Dean grunted as he threw packs out of the trunk and onto the ground. He shoved hers towards her with his foot and gestured to it. Max shifted, then glanced down at the puppy that had fallen asleep. Dean followed her glance and snorted. Max grinned at him, then bent over to pick up the husky puppy. Rumsfeld yelped once at the sudden position change, licked her jaw once more and then cuddled into her arms.
“I’ve already got my hands full,” she taunted, then turned to follow after John and Bobby, into the house. Dean shook his head and then began loading up Sammy’s arms.
*****
Days flew by as the family visited with Bobby. He was certainly amenable enough to letting Max and Sam practice on the old junkers that he had up and running. And he surely didn’t mind John working a deal on an old Chevy truck that he’d just gotten a hold of. And he didn’t care if John glanced through every book he had in the house. Hell, even the tiniest bit of knowledge tucked away in your head could turn the tides in a dangerous situation.
What bothered him was Sam. At first, the boy had talked just as much as the rest of his family, filling Bobby in on the hunts they’d gone on. And the time they spent in Montana and other parts of the country. But gradually, if he wasn’t practicing on a stick shift, like his father insisted, he was off by himself. Most of the time it seemed like he was working on schoolwork, or reading. Occasionally, Bobby caught him going through a large envelope that would mysteriously disappear anytime a family member was in the vicinity.
It was almost the last straw though when for the third day in a row, John, Dean and Max were hunkered over John’s new tinker toy and Sam was up on the porch reading his heart out. He’d slipped away from where he’d been working on another vehicle and under the guise of making lemonade, dragged Sam into the kitchen for a talk.
“So you’re daddy said that you’re schoolwork is going real well,” he began as he pulled lemonade mix from his cupboard.
Sam shrugged. “Well enough I suppose,” he replied.
“He said something about you and Max being able to take your GED’s right away,” Bobby continued. He pretended not to notice the flash of irritation on the younger man’s face.
“Max can,” Sam finally offered, staring out the window. “I’ll be taking my end of year diploma stuff in another few months or so.”
“You worried you might fail?” Bobby pressed. But Sam quickly shook his head. “So what’s got your panties in a bunch then?”
A slow smile crept over Sam’s face, reacting to Bobby’s bluntness. He shrugged again. “Nothing really.”
Bobby regarded Sammy intently. All the time that he knew this family, he knew sure as spit that Sam was just a little bit different. There wasn’t the same drive in him that there was in John and Dean and hell, even Max on occasion. He wondered if that might be the problem right there and decided to switch tactics.
“So you had a good visit back in Montana, I gathered,” he continued in the lemonade making process, deliberately not looking at the youth, giving him time to collect himself.
“It was nice,” Sam agreed mildly, moving to get some glasses down from the cupboard. “We weren’t always rushing off somewhere new. Well, sometimes.” He amended. “But we always got back to the same place.”
“And I see all that home cooking didn’t go to waste either,” Bobby chuckled. He’d heard the kids comparing his own meager offerings to the fare that the almost sainted Molly Gallagher offered. He wasn’t offended. He knew his own shortcomings in the kitchen.
“Yeah,” Sam agreed quietly. Suddenly, the need to tell someone how he felt, someone who wasn’t immediate family, was overwhelming him. “It just kind of reminded me that there’s more to life than hunting and Dad’s rules.”
Bobby felt satisfaction the moment Sam opened up to him. “There is,” he opted to say as mildly as he could. “And there’s nothing wrong with wanting that. Is that what you want?” He chanced a glance at Sam and could see the apprehension on the middle child’s face. He looked straight at him. “Whatever you tell me will be in confidence. I ain’t gonna go running to your daddy just because you said something that he might not like.”
Sam gauged the honestly in that statement and apparently found enough that he nodded. “When we were at Molly’s, sometimes it was easy to pretend that we were just like everybody else. We could visit our friends. We had things that we could actually talk to other people about. Do you know how hard it is to try and tell someone about your trip to Utah when all you can safely tell them is that you camped out a lot?”
“First rule of hunting,” Bobby chuckled. “Don’t tell.”
Sam shook his head. “Nah, first rule of hunting is ‘don’t die’,” he announced it as if by rote. Bobby cocked his head to the side. Those words sounded vaguely familiar to him and he was sure they hadn’t been uttered to him by John Winchester. But when Sam continued, he put it in the back of his mind.
“Second rule is ‘if you know you’re going to die, try and take as many enemies out with you when you go,” Sam recited. “And third rule is ‘don’t tell a soul because you can’t help people when you’re locked up in the nut hatch, unless of course the nut hatch is haunted’.” He ended his tirade with a bit of a grin.
“Yeah that sounds like your old man,” Bobby grinned as well. He finished stirring the lemonade mix into the water in the old plastic pitcher and pulled the wooden spoon out. “All I can say about it though Sam, is that you should just try and appreciate the normal times when they come. They kind of balance out the crazy ass, something trying to kill you times.”
Sam let out a short bark of laughter and ran his fingers through hair that was starting to get a tad shaggy. Before the conversation could continue though, he heard a shout from his brother and moved to help Bobby with the anticipated lemonade. Maybe they could talk more another day.
*****
“I don’t see why I have to drive this thing,” Max complained as the Corolla lurched slightly as she put it into second gear. She was easily accelerating on the road, heading away from Bobby’s house.
“Because you’ve graduated into the Dean Winchester road rules class,” her older brother quipped from the passenger’s seat. “Now that Dad has deemed you fit for mileage on the highway, we go on the highway.”
“You’re a dork,” Max snorted, not even bothering to take her eyes off the road as she taunted her brother. “I just meant that I can drive a stick shift just fine. Better than fine actually,” she pointed out, a little heatedly. “So I didn’t really need my big brother to tag along while I picked up groceries and I could have taken the Impala.”
“First off, nuh uh,” Dean grunted. “Hands off my baby.” Max rolled her eyes. She couldn’t believe that her brother was one of those macho types that referred to every car as she and believed that the non-sentient vehicle was mystically able to comply with Dean’s wishes in regards to driving. “Second of all, Dad wants you to be able to drive anything, and since vehicles are different, you need to-!”
“I know I know,” Max ranted. “I need to get a feel for the different driving systems. How sometimes brakes are lighter in one vehicle than another. How sometimes the gas pedal only needs a light touch instead of lead foot. Blah blah woof woof!” she snorted.
Dean grinned as she finished her tirade, especially since Rumsfeld popped his head up in the back seat, inquiring with huge eyes at the source of the dog-like words.
“And you call me a dork?” Dean teased affectionately. Max just shook her head and concentrated on driving. As she’d thought, Dean didn’t make any corrections or offer suggestions on her driving. Especially since they hit town and he was on hottie lookout.
Sometimes it really irked her when all of Dean’s focus was on other women. Aside from the physical attributes, she couldn’t see what had him so interested. She’d asked John about it on a few occasions and he’d muttered something about hormones and genes and was so red in the face that she’d backed off. But when it happened on the rare occasion for Sam, Max had figured that he was right. Something about a pretty girl made guys go strange. Her theory was completely confirmed though when some guys had tried to flirt with her. Of course, her family didn’t seem to like it when the shoe was on the other foot and she had had to quickly step in and brush the most persistent guy off before weapons could come into play. Seriously though, the guy had been older than Dean and Max wasn’t sure what she thought about that.
She knew she was attractive. Manticore had seen to that along with a myriad of other things. The only drawback that she had found so far to her physical attributes was that it tended to make men treat her like she hadn’t brain one in her head and it made some women, younger and pretty, slightly frosty with her. It didn’t bother her though. That was completely on them. They could be as petty and as jealous as all get out.
What did bother her was seeing grown men getting slack-jawed and stupid for anything in a skirt. That was just… weird. Not the weirdest thing in her life, but a mystery of sorts, all the same.
Max scanned the row of stores on the main drag, looking for the grocery store that Bobby regularly shopped at. He’d provided them with a list of things he needed and John and Sam had included some snacks that they preferred. But before she found what she was looking for, her attention was caught by something entirely different.
Dean was appreciating what a nice day this was turning out to be. There were lovely young ladies almost everywhere he turned. He didn’t mind taking a break from the marathon tune-up that had been happening with the vehicles. And it was a relief to get away from Sam for a little bit. It was kind of freaky the way he was trying to cram so much knowledge in his head before taking his finals. Thinking of that reminded him of Max taking her finals and he turned to ask if she was going to turn into a bookworm like Sammy, but she had suddenly jammed on the brakes.
Dean lurched forward, his hand bracing against the dashboard as he silently cursed, even while being thankful that he’d pushed the seat back as far as it would allow to accommodate his long legs. “What the hell?” he bit out and turned to stare at his sister.
But she wasn’t paying any attention to him at all. She had her head turned and was staring at one of the stores. Before he could say anything else, she’d put the car back in gear and rabbitted it into a parking space, just yards from where she’d originally stopped.
“Max?” he demanded as she unbuckled and jumped out of the car. He leaned over to grab the keys out, gave Rumsfeld, still sleeping, a quick glare and exited the car. “What’s wrong?” he demanded, chasing after his fifteen year old sister. She’d come to a dead halt outside of a bike shop. “Hello Maxie?” he sing-songed, waving his hand in front of her face. “This isn’t the grocery store.”
“Isn’t it gorgeous?” she demanded breathily. Dean blinked slowly. He had never, not since the first moment he’d met her, seen her act like this. He took a glance in the window and saw displayed there a motorcycle of some type. While he knew cars makes and models, he wasn’t so well versed in motorcycles.
:”Yeah it’s nice,” he shrugged. And it was, tricked out with a flaming paint job, the metal cool and gleaming from the afternoon sun. “Come on.”
“Yeah, we’ll go in,” she replied enthusiastically. Dean stared after her as she darted to the front door. He’d meant that they should head down to the store they’d originally come to patronize. A small curl lifted the corner of his lip as he realized that Max had finally found her obsession. It was only right. Dad had demon hunting, he liked his cars and music and Sam was the bookworm. It was only fitting that Max have something too.
He trailed desultorily after her, catching the steel framed glass door just as it was swinging shut. It was almost like watching a kid in the candy store. Max was turning in a slow circle, taking in everything she could. Admittedly, the smell attracted Dean to. He’d always enjoyed the scent of motor oil, leather and axle grease. It reminded him, if he really thought about it, of time spent with his father. Long ago and far off, he supposed it was one of the scent combinations that he still associated with the better part of his childhood.
“Hey!” a gruff voice called from the back of the store. “You just lookin’?”
Dean glanced back to the origin of the voice and saw the typical Hell’s Angels biker standing there, wiping grease from his hands with an extraordinarily clean rag. “Yeah,” he called back. “My sister wanted to stop in.”
The guy took in Max and shook his head. “Well, holler if you need anything.” He stepped back into the rear, obviously not concerned with creating a sales pitch. He seemed to have measured them up as look and seers, instead of hard core buyers. Which Dean knew was the correct assumption.
By then Max had moved in closer to a different set of models than the bikes that were prominently displayed. Although Dean wasn’t sure that three constituted much of a display.
“Look Dean,” Max gestured at him from where she was kneeling next to a sleek little motorcycle, though it looked huge compared to his scrawny kid sister. “Isn’t she gorgeous?!” He didn’t bother to fight back a grin at the excitement in her voice.
“Yeah it’s nice,” he replied stiffly. He checked his watch, knowing that their father wouldn’t be expecting them quite yet. But he’d also tan Dean’s hide if he left Max to wander around a strange town alone, while he picked up the food. “We need to get going though. The store closes early tonight. Remember?”
“I know,” Max nodded, though her eyes were still on the bike. Suddenly she stood and graced him with a brilliant smile. “I just wanna ask something.” Before he could consent she hurried to the opening to the back.
“Hey mister!” he heard her call. Not bothering to follow after her, Dean checked out the monstrosity that she was drooling over. A Kawasaki Ninja. He had to admit that it was a sleek looking little machine. Not overly garish like the other bikes. It was compact, all black, had a small windshield. In all, it wasn’t bad looking. But in his heart, nothing compared to his Impala.
He finally tore himself away and wandered towards the back, where he heard Max conversing with the big guy from before. When he heard the price of that little beauty, new it seemed, he let out a low whistle. There was no way in hell their dad would go for that.
After another few minutes of conversation with the store owner, Dean was able to pull Max away with another reminder that they had to get to the store. Finding out from the guy that the store wasn’t far away, they decided they could walk. Dean tried to ignore how Max was absently wandering down the street, looking over the pamphlets in her hands that she’d picked up.
“Oh man, this thing gets excellent gas mileage,” she exclaimed, shoving the paper under Dean’s nose.
“Yeah that’s great sis,” Dean snorted, pushing her wrist away. “Did you remember Bobby’s list?”
Max stopped suddenly, her eyes frozen and then she shook her head. “No, it’s still in the car.” And then she started walking again. She looked over her shoulder at him. “What?”
“Ah, we need to go get the list,” he pointed out, a little less than patient.
“No we don’t,” Max denied. “I remember what was on there.” She continued on to the store and Dean shook his head. She was looking over the pictures again, a dreamy, goofy smile on her face.
“I’m still going to get it,” he called after her. She waved one hand in the air, clearly unconcerned.
“Don’t forget to crack the window so Rummy gets some fresh air,” she called back to him after he’d taken a few steps.
Dean turned, but Max had already entered the store. “Rummy,” he snorted out in the most deprecating tone he could muster.
When he caught back up to her a few minutes later, the small cart she had was already loaded with the things that Bobby had asked for. “Well,” he sighed, as he checked over the list. “There’s one thing to be grateful for.”
“What’s that?” Max asked as she scanned the shelves for a specific type of salsa.
“You’re not one of those girls that takes forever to shop,” Dean teased. Glancing once again in the cart, he was amazed to see that Max indeed did remember everything that was on Bobby’s list. All that was missing was the milk and the snack items that John and Sam had added.
“What’s the point of taking forever?” Max demanded with a laugh. “You decide you want something, go and get it. That’s not hard right?”
“Yeah, I suppose,” Dean shrugged, trailing after her. A jar of cheesy salsa mix caught his eye and he snagged it from the shelf. “But don’t most girls like to look and debate and, oh God… window shop!”
“I’m not most girls Dean,” Max pointed out, speaking slowly. “So I guess I wouldn’t know.”
“No you’re right,” Dean nodded his head and set the jar he’d snagged in the cart, completely missing the look of sadness that had passed over his sister’s features. “And in my books that’s a good thing. You know. You’re just like one of the guys,” he finished, intending his words as a compliment. Unfortunately, that got a reaction he wasn’t expecting.
“You are such a jerk!” Max hissed, storming away from him.
Dean stared after her, his mouth slightly agape. “What the hell?” he wondered out loud. He shut his mouth, his teeth snapping together with a slight clicking noise. Letting out a long sigh, he decided that they were probably in for another round of PMS.
*****
“What are you doing?” Sam demanded as he watched Dean scoot yet another inch closer in his chair, to the doorway that led from Bobby’s living room to the kitchen. Sam inserted a finger between the pages of the book he was reading, not wanting to lose his spot. They’d just finished dinner and now Bobby, John and Max were clearing up. The boys had offered to help, but Max had informed them that she wanted to talk to John.
“Shh,” Dean hissed, waving a hand at his brother.
“No, seriously dude,” Sam persisted. “Why are you eavesdropping?”
Dean glanced through the doorway furtively, and then turned to fix his brother with a semi-evil looking smirk. “I think Max is working up the courage to ask Dad for a motorcycle.”
Sam took that in, thought it over and then gave an unimpressed snort. As he opened his book once more, he grinned, “yeah, that’ll go over with Dad like a lead balloon.”
Once they returned to silence, the others voices filtered through clearly once more.
“…excellent mileage and upkeep wouldn’t be that bad,” Max finished saying. “So what do you think Dad?”
“That’s all interesting Max,” John replied. The boys could hear the swish of water as someone washed a dish. “Unfortunately, I just can’t afford a brand new motorcycle. And it’s not a wise idea to use one of the cards for it. Big purchases like that tip off the credit card companies.”
“I know that,” Max assured him quickly.
“Besides,” John continued, plates clacking together as he continued his task, “you’ve never driven a motorcycle. What makes you think you could handle one?”
“I don’t know,” Max admitted freely. “I just do.”
“You know,” Bobby interrupted, “I’ve got an old Suzuki that she could practice on.” There was a slight pause. “Of course, I wouldn’t sell it to ya kiddo. The damn thing keeps shorting out and nothing I’ve tried has fixed it. It’s good enough to run for a little while, but then you got to rewire it.”
“So it’d be fine for short hops around the yard,” John clarified. “Is that what you’re saying?”
“Pretty much,” Bobby chuckled. “I suppose I could teach her how.”
“That’s great Bobby,” Max exclaimed. “Thank you.” There was another pause. “But what about the Ninja?”
“What about it?” John grumbled. It was clear to the boys that their father had pretty much thought the matter closed.
“I know you can’t afford it,” Max began, almost hesitantly. “But what if I raised the money for it?”
“That’s a lot of money to try and hustle,” Bobby commented. “It would take you a while.”
“Plus the fact that you’d need to get protective gear, insurance, a full course from Bobby on maintenance and an operating license,” John threw in. “That’s time and money there Max.”
“But if I did all that, you’d let me,” Max pressed, trying to get John to commit. Finally he seemed to give in.
“Yes Max,” he sighed, “if you do everything I told you and can raise the money, then you can get the Ninja.”
“Thank you Daddy!” her squeal echoed allover the house. Dean’s jaw had dropped. He had worked and slaved over the Impala for most of his life before his father finally entrusted it to him and here Max was getting a brand new frigging motorcycle! He turned to glare at his brother, who despite acting unconcerned before was displaying the same slack-jawed manner as his older brother.
“Did you hear that?” Dean grunted. Sam nodded slowly.
“Max honey,” John chuckled. “Do me a favor. Either quit hugging me or dry that damn plate! It’s dripping water down my back!”
“Oh sorry,” Max laughed. John and Bobby joined in. The conversation continued, with Bobby telling Max that he had some manuals for a few different brands of motorcycles that she could look over to acquaint herself with the set up of her chosen vehicle. Their task was finished quickly and both boys noticed that Max disappeared into the study to find the books that Bobby had mentioned.
“We need to talk to Dad,” Dean whispered harshly. Sam nodded and moved to set his book away, when the voices filtered out to them again.
“She’s a tenacious little thing,” Bobby commented softly and both Sam and Dean had to strain to hear.
“That she is,” John agreed. They heard something clink and the cupboard door was slammed shut. They heard coffee being poured and knew the older men were settling in for an evening chat in the kitchen.
“I thought sure as hell you were gonna say no to that bike,” Bobby laughed.
“And if I’d said no outright then there would have been no end to the snit she’d work herself into,” John offered matter of factly. “And if there’s one thing that scares the hell outta me, it’s a pissed off Max.”
The boys couldn’t help but smirking over that. It was a useful little tidbit to keep in mind.
“So what are you going to say to her when she’s ready for that bike?” Booby wondered.
“She won’t get it,” John told him calmly. Bobby must have looked wonderingly since John continued explaining after a moment. “Either she’ll get over this fad, or she’ll never make that much money. In fact, I can just about guarantee that she’ll never be able to sock away that much.”
“How so?”
“Max is a good girl,” John grunted. “We’ll just have a run of bad luck and need to ‘borrow’ from her once in a while. She’ll put her family first.”
“You are one sneaky son of a gun,” Bobby said, his voice half awe, half disgust. “You know that, right?”
Dean and Sam glanced at one another. Bobby was definitely right about that.
*****
They were returning again. It had been nine weeks since they’d left Bobby’s, full of knowledge of sorts. But now, giving in to Sammy’s incessant need to make sure that he knew as much possible before taking his exams, John had given into the kids urging to return to their old friend’s home. Bobby hadn’t minded their company again so soon, he promised John. And Max was excited about taking another go around with the motorcycle he’d let her borrow.
As expected, she’d caught on fast to riding, handling the machine with ease and grace. And she’d never complained when, as predicted, the machine broke down. She looked on each opportunity as a chance to advance in the chain of commands that John had set up regarding her ownership of, as she now put it, her baby, the black Ninja 650.
They pulled up to the old house and once again Bobby was waiting for them. This time however, Rumsfeld was sitting patiently at his side, waiting for a command before he went out to greet his old friends. Since it hadn’t been so long since their last visit, they all just clambered out of the Impala and right up to the house.
Bobby had cool drinks ready for everyone and as they settled in, they began another, shorter round of guess what we killed this time. And at last, Dean found an appreciative audience for the story he was dying to tell about Sammy at the carnival that Max had dragged them to. Or as Dean liked to call it, the adventure of Sammy’s first kiss. The carnival was only in town over a weekend and Max had never been to one. So while she was experiencing the sights and sounds, Sam was literally shaking in his boots every time a clown walked by. Turned out poor Sam was terrified of them and he took off running when a whole passel of them came down the fairway. Only to run right into the arms of the bearded woman, who’d planted a big old smooch on an embarrassed Sammy. Dean was near to laughing himself right out of his chair when he finished telling it and Bobby wasn’t far behind.
Sam was squirming in his seat, knowing that there were no threats on earth that would shut his brother up about it. At least Max and John were carefully avoiding his face. He really didn’t need to see the actual pity that was sure was in their eyes.
“Don’t mind me,” he huffed out as he stood up. “I’m gonna go study.”
“I’m sorry Sammy,” Bobby called between laughs. “It’s just…”
“It’s Sam. Yeah, whatever,” Sam shrugged, striving for a negligent approach and not quite pulling it off. His attitude at least accomplished one thing, it settled Dean down. He would have moved to go after Sammy and try and continue teasing him out of his snit, but his father made motions for him to just let it go. So he did and they spent the rest of the evening visiting with Bobby before they all retired.
The next morning, as they had long ago grown used to, Max was up and going long before any others were. Her saving grace from being teased over it was that she always had coffee ready for everyone else. And if she was in an adventurous mood, some type of breakfast. No one complained if it was something made from a box, since she had better luck with that. But she could also turn out some darn tasty pancakes.
So this morning, though there was coffee, there was no breakfast and no sign of Max. No one cared until they were all assembled for breakfast and Max still hadn’t shown up. A quick check of the spare bedroom that she commandeered showed the bed made and no one in sight. Bobby checked outside, but Rumsfeld was up on his perch on the truck. If Max was around, the dog would have been at her side like glue. So that must have meant that she was off practicing her driving on the old bike Bobby kept. Yet it was there in the yard as well.
When instructed to, Dean and Sam had checked their bags and the Impala, and discovered that Max had taken their cell phone with her. So John called her, heatedly demanding to know where she was. It was a short conversation before he hung up the phone and turned to face the boys.
“She’s in town, she walked, and she’ll be back soon,” he intoned, his face dark.
“Why the hell did she walk into town so early in the morning?” Dean demanded, perturbed.
“Probably wanted to go moon over her baby,” Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. He took a platter of food from Bobby and brought it to the table.
“Yeah, but if she walked, she left a while ago,” Dean pointed out. “Not really smart. Who knows who could have been on the road?”
“You’re sister is smart enough to get out of the way of vehicles,” John sighed. “And she knows better than to hitchhike.”
“So what do you want to do?” Bobby asked, glancing at the other three males.
“I say we eat,” Sam gestured to the food already prepared.
“Yeah,” John concurred. “She’s safe. She has the phone to call us if there’s any trouble. After we eat, we can run in and pick her up.” That decided, they sat down to enjoy the meal.
But their plans were for naught.
Almost as soon as they were done eating and about to clear the mess away, they heard a distinct rumble of an unfamiliar vehicle pulling into Bobby’s lot. They heard Rumsfeld bark a welcoming yip and all four of them rushed to the window.
It was easy to see exactly who had come in, since the dog only barked that way with Max. But they certainly hadn’t expected her to be coming on the very machine that she’d coveted these past weeks.
“What the hell did she do?” John breathed out, his eyes betraying a worried panic.
Before he could stop his boys, they’d rushed out to greet their sister. He exchanged a look with Bobby and the older men followed suit.
“Isn’t it great?” Max called to them as she set the kickstand down and settled the bike so it wouldn’t tip over. She’d already pulled up the visor on the requisite helmet. She leaned forward so that she could sling her leg off of the bike and stood so that she could remove the helmet and gloves. She pushed the gloves into the helmet, set it on the seat and then unzipped her leather jacket. Sam and Dean were there then and looking over the bike. Undisguised pride and amazement shone in their eyes.
“How the hell did you get this?” Dean asked with curiosity.
“I bought it dumb ass,” Max giggled. She ran her hand over the new leather seat, and then turned to her approaching father. “And I got the gear when I got it. And I purchased a year’s worth of insurance, over the Internet.” She turned back to her brothers. “That’s what took me so long this morning. I had to wire the money order to the main office and wait for confirmation that they got it before they issued the card.”
“You did all that this morning?” Bobby was stunned. It was only shortly before ten o’clock.
“Well, I did persuade the bike shop owner to open early,” she smiled brilliantly. “But the prospect of a total payment, all cash, did brighten his naturally un-sunny nature.”
“You paid cash for everything?” John demanded at last. Max nodded happily. “Well then you should have no problem taking this stuff back.”
As Max stared at John, trying to process his words, the grin slowly faded from her face. “What?”
“You heard me,” he spoke clearly, his face stony. “Take this stuff back.”
“But why,” her voice had dropped to a whisper as her brows furrowed together. “You said…”
“No,” John spat out. “Take this damn bike back. You’re not having it!”
The order finally served to pull Max out of her stunned stupor. “No. I won’t,” she spoke softly, but her face held a promise of danger. “You said that if I did everything you asked then I could have it. I did everything. Even down to the damn leather gloves that I sure as hell don’t need. The friggin’ insurance. I paid for the bike. It’s mine! You said so!”
“I don’t give a damn what I said!” John thundered back. Neither of them noticed that Bobby had latched onto Sam and Dean’s arms and was slowly drawing them away. While the boys had seen arguments very rarely take place between their father and sister, this was new to Bobby. But not one of them would have said that this was a regular argument. This was Mount St. Helen’s about to erupt.
“Excuse me!” Max screeched. “Why the hell did you say I could have it if you didn’t mean it?”
“Don’t take that tone with me!” John yelled right back.
“I’ll take any tone I fucking well please,” Max’s voice had gone cold and her eyes were glittering. Her stance spelled trouble, just as John’s did. He’d advanced on her and they were almost toe to toe.
“Take the bike back Max,” he warned again. Max just stared up at her father, her arms crossed, her face set mulishly. “Or I’ll take it back for you.”
“You touch it and I’ll have you arrested,” she threatened so quietly that it only betrayed the seriousness of her words. John pulled back a tiny bit, obviously unused to this grave child. There was no doubt in his mind that she’d do exactly that.
“You would really do that to me?” he questioned, his voice now as soft as hers had been. “Do that to your own family?”
“I protect what’s mine,” she warned. “And that bike is mine.” That threat settled in, she leaned back, her straight stance shifting slightly as one hip jutted out. “And why the hell are you so pissed off about this?”
“Because you shouldn’t be spending you’re money on stuff like that,” John snarled. “And how the hell did you come up with the cash for it? You’ve been holding out on us?”
“Well duh,” Max rolled her eyes. “If you guys hadn’t been so busy hustling, you would seen the scams I was working on.” That wasn’t exactly the truth, but there was no way that Max was going to admit that. True, she had hustled and run a few scams, just like John and Dean. But ever since Sam had slipped about the way they needed and made money, she had been putting her Manticore given talents to use. Using her stealth, she’d become an amazing pick-pocket. She’d learned about breaking and entering, and Dean was always letting her refine her technique. On a few occasions, she put those talents to use with a little B&E with some robbery on the side.
It was true that she was extremely careful. She never stole more than petty amounts in the towns they worked in. Just enough that people would think they’d lost a bill somewhere, or had lost a favored piece of jewelry. It was the bigger towns they passed through that caught Max’s attention. Also because that was where the fences were. And Max had found quite the network’s there that didn’t mind dealing in stolen goods.
And whenever she did win any money, she never bragged on the amount. Or at least toned down the amount she had won. She always kept it fluid, showing them that she had a little here and there. Mainly she chipped in for gas or for food. Once in a while, she bought herself something. Money was used for small presents on the proper occasions. And never once had the Winchester’s questioned it. Until now.
“And when have I held out on you?” she demanded. “If you needed more money, all you had to do was ask.” With that statement, she dug into her pocket and brought out a roll of money. She held the money out to John and he stared at it dumbly.
“It’s not about the damn money,” he hissed, pushing her hand away. Max hadn’t been expecting that and the money fell from her numb fingertips. It landed in the dirt and while John and Max stared each other down, Dean stepped forward to scoop it up. His eyes widened momentarily and he furtively counted it out.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathed, holding up the wad of cash. “There’s over fifteen hundred here.”
“And with the bike…” Sam added in, trailing off.
“How the hell did you squirrel away thousands of dollars?” Dean demanded, awe once again filling his voice. Max finally glanced away from John and gave her brother an uneasy shrug.
“I just did,” she answered quietly. “You guys never asked and any time I offered to pay for stuff, half the time you just blew me off.”
The group shifted uneasily. Most of them were waiting to see what John was going to say, John himself included. He didn’t know why he was so upset about the bike. Like he said, it wasn’t about the money. It wasn’t the fact that she’d held his words as a serious deal. It was only when Max pushed that he admitted the truth to himself and the rest of them.
“What’s so wrong with me having this bike?” she questioned again. “I did everything I was supposed to.”
“You’re going to get killed on that thing,” he finally blurted out. Surprised understanding dawned on Max’s face. But before she could answer, John turned and marched back into the house. She turned to the others and they stared at one another. None of his children had any clue what that was about.
But Bobby, as usual, was a fount of information. “Your daddy didn’t tell you about a friend of ours that was killed years ago, did he?”
All three of them shook their heads. Bobby sighed and glanced away, a little niggling pain still showing on his face. “Danny Kearney,” he spoke quietly, his voice heavy. “He was too tired to drive, but he did anyways. He started nodding off and drifted into the wrong lane on the highway. Right into the path of an oncoming semi. That rig dragged him for a mile before the driver could get it stopped.”
He didn’t need to describe the carnage that it caused on their mutual friend. He could see in their faces that they were imagining the devastation already.
“I should go talk to him, show him that I can handle the motorcycle,” Max pointed out softly. But Bobby shook his head.
“It’s not that he has a problem with the bike,” Bobby said. “I mean hell; he had no problem with you riding that old bike of mine around the yard.”
“Then what’s the problem?” Sam demanded.
“He doesn’t want you to have the means to be gone from him,” Bobby pointed out equitably. “He doesn’t want you to be out of his sphere of influence.” He paused for a moment to try and let the kids puzzle through that. “I know there are a lot of things that scare your old man. But the one thing that truly terrifies him, the one thing that paralyzes him, is the thought of one of you kids being hurt or killed.”
He left them with that revelation that shouldn’t have been so startling, yet was and followed after his old friend. The three kids stood awkwardly together. Finally, Dean handed Max back the money that she’d won. Max took it hesitantly, and stowed it back in her jacket. She looked up, her face serious as she contemplated her brothers.
“Should I take it back?” she questioned them quietly. Both men looked thoughtful for a moment. Sam answered first.
“No,” he stated evenly. “You’re right. The bike is yours; you did everything Dad told you to do to get it. And like Bobby said, it’s not about the bike.”
“Just don’t shove it in his face though,” Dean warned, evidently agreeing with Sam. “I mean, you have it now, you don’t have to flaunt it. Give Dad some time to adjust.”
Max nodded in relief. This motorcycle was something, the only thing that was well and truly hers in a big way. She was so damn proud of it and the way it made her feel when she rode it was beyond comparison to anything else. Yet despite her earlier threat, she would have given it up, once she had good reason to, for John.
“So when you finally do convince Dad that its okay,” Sam interjected on her thoughts, “can I get a ride?”
“Ooh no!” Dean protested. “Me first.”
“Why should you be first?” Sam demanded as the trio began moving towards the house.
“Because I was there when she first saw it,” Dean pointed out smugly.
“What the hell dude!” Sam shot back. “That has nothing to do with it.”
“Hey, first come, first serve,” was his older brother’s taunt.
“Right! I asked first so I get first ride,” Sam pointed out triumphantly.
“Isn’t it my decision?” Max asked, chuckling. Both brothers turned to her.
“No!” they decided in unison. They both grinned at the other and Sam casually pushed his brother’s shoulder.
“Jerk!”
Dean glanced down at the shoulder that his brother had just touched. With a little harder shove, he retaliated. “Bitch!”
With ease Max dodged out of the way of their sudden brawl. Giggling, she ended up beside Bobby’s truck, where Rumsfeld was eagerly waiting to greet her. She let him rain licks and puppy kisses over her face as she desultorily scratched behind his ear. She looked at the dog and grinned as a sudden idea popped into her head.
“Hey!” she yelled, capturing her brother’s attention. “I know how to settle this fairly! Rumsfeld gets the first ride!” And with that she dashed into the house.
Dean and Sam stared after her, and then glanced at each other. With unspoken consent, they released each other and scrambled up to chase after their mischievous little sister. Though they didn’t mean it to, the ensuing tickle fight had one great side effect. It went a long way in restoring their father to a better frame of mind.
Chapter Twenty
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