Author: Restive Nature
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.
Rating: PG-13- NC-17
Genre: Crossover
Type: Romance
Pairing: Max/ Guevara/ Sam Winchester
Summary: What if... Max had been having a different dream?
Spoilers/ Timeline: This starts when Max is thirteen and going into heat for the very first time.
Feedback: Always welcome!
Distribution: Ask first please.
A/N: This story, while being in the same universe as When It Changes, does not actually occur within that storyline. This fiction is just an off-shoot of what might have happened.
Chapter Fourteen
A Cordial Cowboy
"Hey sweetie!" she greeted, but thee seemed to be a lot of static on the line and she couldn't hear him. "What was that?" she asked loudly, covering her other ear so that she could hopefully hear.
"...barely...you," was all she caught.
"Hang on, I'm going outside," she chuckled.
"What?"
"Outside!" she shouted amidst the off-key singing around her. She heard him say something else again, but just shook her head ruefully as she tried to weave through the crows. She caught the look of disappointment on the cowboy's face as she evaded him. The noise level dropped considerably once she made it outside the bar. "Is that better?" they asked each other simultaneously and both laughed.
"Where did you go?" Sam asked.
"Outside. You?"
"Bathroom," Sam chuckled.
"Well thank God you called me when you did," Max drawled, shivering slightly in the frosty air.
"Why is that?"
"Some frisky young cowboy was about to get fresh with me under the guise of goodwill," she told him wryly.
"And where was Dean?" Sam asked sternly.
"He was off like a shot to spread around his own brand of New Year's cheer," Max giggled.
"Typical," Sam snorted. "And tomorrow he;ll be spreading after New Year's cheer and the day after that..."
"It's kind of a habit with him, isn't it?" Max sighed in amusement.
"So anyway, Happy New Year," Sam offered. "We've still got a couple hours to go here. And the other reason... I suppose I just wanted to be the first to... oh darn," Sam huffed and then spoke quietly. "They found me."
"Who...?" Max asked, puzzled and then heard a burst of voices and her name.
"Happy birthday sweetheart," he said as quickly as he could.
"Thanks, but what..." she didn't get a chance to finish her question.
"All right!" Sam groaned. "Hang on babe," he spoke to her and then to someone else. "Yeesh, all right! Go ahead."
Max's eyebrows furrowed together, puzzled and then eased when she heard the raucous and enthusiastic chorus of 'Happy Birthday' being sung to her. She laughed delightedly when they finished. "Awww," she crooned. "They are so sweet. Tell them thank you for me."
"She says thank you," Sam relayed dutifully. "Now get lost. I want to talk to my girlfriend!" She heard much laughter and what were probably some teasing comments before it got quiet again. "So how much longer do you think Dean'll be spreading the cheer?" Sam asked cheekily.
"It depends," Max answered, equally amused. "If there's any chance of him getting lucky..."
"Sam snorted. "Dean always thinks theres a chance."
"True," Max giggled again and then shivered. Someone cleared his or her throat from a few feet away and Max turned to see the cowboy there, holding out her coat to her. "Nag on a sec sweetie," she told Sam and lowered the phone.
"Sorry," the cowboy grinned. "I saw you duck out here and thought you might need this." He gestured with the coat and Max accepted it with a small smile.
"Yeah, I couldn't hear my boyfriend through all that noise," she explained and waned at the same time as she pulled her coat on. The warmth was a nice relief.
"Figures," the cowboy muttered ruefully. "I was gonna ask you to dance, but I just don't rustle other men's fillies. So I'll say good night instead." He tipped the brim of his black Stetson to her, gave her a charming grin and turned on his heel to head back into the bar.
"Well I'll be damned," she grunted.
"What was that?" Sam grunted as well.
"I'm just surprised that I've managed to find another man on this earth that has some semblance of manners," Max teased and then explained the happenings of moments ago. Sam laughed and agreed that they seemed to be a dying breed.
"But honestly Max, if you feel like dancing, I don't mind. As long as he keeps his hands to himself."
"Which is kind of hard to do when actually dancing," Max laughed. "At least it is here. It's not a club honey, where everyone is just jumping around."
"You know what I meant," Sam grumbled good-naturedly.
"So, is you giving your permission your roundabout way of telling me that you've been consorting with other females this evening?" she teased.
"No it's not," Sam answered easily. "And I haven't."
"Ah," Max drawled. "Then it must mean that they've been asking and you're tired of dodging, thinking up excuses and making escape plans."
"That's be closer to the truth," Sam admitted with a laugh. Max grinned.
"Well, it's fine by me, though of course the same rules would apply. You'll just have to tell the lynch mob that I okayed it."
"Lynch mob?" Sam guffawed.
"Yup," Max continued, "just tell them to cut in if it looks like trouble."
"Well okay," Sam sighed, "but I'll look mighty silly dancing with Chuck." They both laughed and talked some more. Max promised that she'd call him in the evening, after she'd opened her gifts. Hanging up, she re-entered the bar. She was a little surprised to see the cowboy at the bar, watching the few couples moving around the dance floor as the jukebox blared. She made her way over to him, shucking her jacket.
"So? You still feel like two stepping, cowboy?" she asked with a grin as he started in surprise. He carefully set his bottle of beer on the bar.
"You sure your boyfriend wouldn't mind?" he asked carefully.
"Sam said that as long as you didn't get fresh, he was okay with it," she informed him.
"And your friend over there?" he gestured towards Dean, ensconced in a far corner with two ladies hanging on his every utterance.
"Oh, you mean my bodyguard?" she asked sweetly. "AKA Dean, AKA Sam's brother?"
"Ah," the cowboy grinned. "Your boyfriend's a smart man." Max nodded happily. "'Course I do the same with my sisters and their friends when they feel like going out." He hopped of the bar stool and gentlemanly held out an arm for her.
"Oh? Do you have a big family?"
"Four little sister and you wouldn't believe how many cousins. I'm Jack by the way."
"Max," she replied as he led her to the dance floor. "You might have to teach me a few of the steps."
"Be a pleasure," Jack grinned as they began the moderately paced dance, melding in easily with the other couples. After a few revolutions around the dance floor, Max relaxed enough to note, "your accent sounds familiar. Where are you from?"
"Originally, Helena, Montana," Jack told her. "I just moved out here last fall for round-up and the ranch owner lost one of his boys that does calving in February. So he hired me on permanently."
"Well it makes sense then," Max chuckled. "I lived for a year in Geraldine when I was a kid."
"You don't say," Jack laughed. "I've got cousins on my mom's side down there. Maybe you met 'em? The Protsma's?"
"Oh no way!" Max cried out, her eyes widening. "Justine was my best friend in fifth grade! We still write to each other."
"Well I'll be!" Jack threw his head back and roared with laughter. The conversation flowed as easily as the dancing after that. Jack entertained Max with tales of her friend at the most recent family reunion and Max countered with tales from her year in fifth grade. When the music finally slowed, Jack twirled her off the dance floor with a flourish and led her to a now empty table. "Sure worked up a thirst out there," he announced as she sat. "Can I get you something to drink?"
"A coke would be great, thanks," Max smiled.
"And you sir? Can I get you another beer?" Max turned to see who he was addressing and caught Dean looming over her, doing his best to appear intimidating. If Jack hadn't had both Sam and Max's blessing, it might have worked.
"Hey Dean," she smiled. "This is Justine's cousin, Jack Crowther. Jack, Sam's brother Dean."
"Don't worry," Jack assured him, holding out his hand to Dean. "Your brother was fully aware that I was twirlin' his girl." Dean's eyebrow arched at the odd wording, but he relaxed and grinned and shook Jack's hand.
"Hey, good to meet ya," he offered. "Yeah, a refill'd be good." Jack checked what Dean was drinking and headed off to the bar. Dean took a seat and drained what little beer he had left. "So, your birthday's off to a good start, huh?"
"The best," Max announced as she tossed back her hair. She told him then how Sam's friends had dogged him so that they could sing happy birthday to her. Jack, returning to the table, heard this and happily added his felicitations. Talk turned back to Montana in general and they closed down the bar, reminiscing. They left, with Max promising to say hi for Jack in her next letter to Justine. The pair of the returned to their motel and gratefully fell into bed.
Max woke early the next morning, or later, depending on how one looked at it. She was about to go and get a shower when the phone calls began. The first was John, already on his way to meet up with them. They chatted for a while until Dean woke up enough to speak with his father while Max showered. There were more throughout the day as she and Dean brunched and watched old movies at the motel. Finally, John urged them to go ahead and get to the restaurant for dinner and just let him know where to meet him. A rock break in one of his tires had slowed him down considerably. Dean relayed the location of the restaurant that Max had already chosen. As per his instructions, they went ahead.
John showed up while they were splitting a platter of appetizers, his arms laden with gift bags and wrapped presents. They helped him settle all of the gifts on the table before he hugged Max and greeted Dean. John pulled up the chair that they indicated and asked how Max's day had been going thus far. She began an animated tale about how her birthday had actually started, exaggerating all the fun parts, which had John laughing and Dean protesting. They were served their meal while John was explaining how his tire went flat between two towns. And then his dilemma about what to do and where to go, since his spare was flat as well. Did roll the tire back the three miles to the dinky town he had just passed, where he wasn't sure there was a gas station. Or did he go on five miles and hope he'd get help there. In the end, he'd gone on ahead and sure enough, the first place he'd come to was a truck stop. There'd been plenty of helpful people there and once John had filled up the spare, one of them gave him a lift back to his vehicle. But fearing another near disaster, he'd stopped at the first place he'd could and bought a new tire to replace the other tire instead of waiting for the service center to patch up the rock break.
"And that is why I'm so damn late," he ended with a soft grunt.
"But you're here," Max smiled. "That's the important part."
"Yeah," John grumbled. "But I wanted to spend some time doing something with you other than eating."
"We figured that," Dean grinned. "That's why we're going over to the game palace when we're done here."
"And what're we going to do there?" John asked laconically as he reached for his coffee. Max and Dean glanced at each other with impish grins.
"Mini-golf!" they enthused together, startling John and he laughed.
"What is it with you two and that game?" They shared another look and shrugged.
"Clubs," Max giggled, "balls, hard targets, hitting things..."
"Competition,' Dean added enthusiastically. "How can we go wrong?"
"And the winner gets either a free game, or a pick from the prize barrel," Max added. John just shook his head as they finished their dinners. Once Max had pushed her plate away, she was ready for gifts, but Dean forestalled her.
"Uh uh," he warned with a shake of his head and then turned his gaze. Max's swiveled around to see what he was looking at and the moment she saw the small group of waiters and waitresses and kitchen staff moving towards her, they broke into song. Max closed her eyes and groaned softly, even though she was smiling. The group finished o=their song as other customers at the tables around them applauded. One of the staff set the confection he was holding on the table before Max, complete with a single, burning candle.
"Make a wish," he instructed. Max dutifully closed her eyes, waited a moment and then blew out the candle. There was no need to tell anyone that there was nothing for her to wish for, but the obvious and she wasn't going to jinx herself. Everyone clapped again as the candle went out.
"Thanks so much," Max called to the staff that had sung. "You guys were much better than the drunken rendition I got just after midnight!" There was laughter and their waiter stepped up to place desert plates and s serving utensil at her elbow.
"Thanks," Dean grinned up at him. The waiter nodded and gathered up their plates to get them out of the way, promising to be right back with more coffee.
"Cheesecake Dean?" Max grinned as she cut into the confection. "This is so awesome!"
Dean tilted his head to the side and acted all modest at the praise. "Well, I figured, why go with boring old cake when they had cherry cheesecake on the menu," he shrugged. Max's eyes lit up as she placed the first piece on the top plate and checked that the fruity layer was indeed her favorite. But before she could pass it, John had snagged the pie plate and server from her hand.
"Eat up kiddo, we can get our own," he instructed. She didn't hesitate and laughed over the portion size that Dean was trying to convince his father to give him. After their antics and eating, Max looked over the pile of gifts hopelessly.
"Where do I start?" she muttered. John chose a few gifts at random and slid them over to her. She opened, in succession, the cards from various friends from around the country, that she kept in contact with, saving Justine's for last. She'd already talked to her friend that afternoon and had happily relayed Jack's greetings, which had them laughing over what a small world it was. She showed the guys the national clothing chain gift certificate that Justine had included with her card and endured teasing about what a clotheshorse she had turned into. Molly's gift was next. A card, full of a letter as well that Max saved to read later, also contained a gift certificate to the bookstore. There were two presents in the box that Max unwrapped. She pulled out a lovely hand knit cream-colored light cardigan. "Oh," Max sighed. "This'll go perfect with those chocolate mousse slacks you got me for Christmas Dad." She smiled at their puzzled expressions. "The brown pants?" she giggled.
"Oh, why didn't you say that to begin with?" Dean groaned.
"Chocolate mousse," John snorted. "That's something you eat, not wear!"
"Well that's what the tag on them said," Max defended as she opened the smaller box. Once open, she glanced down and gave a little gasp. Inside was a broach that Max had admired every time Molly wore it. A small peacock with it's tail feathers spread proudly. The spots in the tail contained multiple colored gemstones and flickered gently under the light. It had been given to her by her mother when she had turned eighteen. And as the note stated, Max was not to worry as Molly had plenty of other mementos to pass on to her own children and grandchildren. After admiring it, John passed over the gifts from Bobby and Jim. From Jim, she received that standard Celtic knot protection necklace that he gave to all the young ladies of his special flock. From Jim, she received a specially corded leather protection bracelet that he'd made himself. He also included several photos from their Christmas visit. Max especially liked the one of Rumsfeld wearing the studded collar that Max had presented to the dog. She'd argued that he was just too good natured and needed to beef up his image.
"You know," Max sighed as she stroked her finger along the side of the photo, "that's something I wish we'd done more of."
"What?" Dean asked. "Humiliate poor, defenseless dogs?"
"No," she smiled. "Taken more pictures." John and Dean exchanged a look and a grin.
"Well, we did what we could," John philosophized as Dean pushed his gift over to his sister. She set the photos aside and opened the typically funny card. Once the present was unwrapped, they all laughed as Max picked up the digital camera that he'd picked out for her.
"Great minds Dean?" she teased.
"Well I figured Sammy could upload them on that computer of his and send me some pictures," Dean shrugged. "Then maybe I won't get lonesome for my bratty little sister."
"You're the brat," she accused happily as she moved around the table to hug him and gave him a peck on the cheek. "I love it. Thank you."
John waited until she was seated again before sliding his gift to her. It had become her habit to always save Sam's gifts for last, to savor. He kept his hands on it when she would have taken it though. "Now, I saw this," he explained, "and I thought it would be more appropriate for California than what you've got now. If you don't like it, don't worry, we can take it back and find something else."
"I'm sure I'll love it," Max grinned. She opened the gift and was stunned to find that he'd picked out a lavish, camel-colored, hip length suede coat for her. "Oh Dad," she breathed out, holding it up before her. "It's gorgeous!"
"Well try it on," Dean snorted. Max stood and slipped it on. It fit her perfectly and Max could see what John meant. It was a jacket much more suited to the balmier California weather than the down-filled parka that she had now.
She hugged John happily as she murmured, "I love it."
"Man, he's really come a long way with the clothes shopping, hasn't he?" Dean teased as John blushed. Max resumed her seat again as John produced another gift and slid it over to her.
"Now, this is from both of us." Max took the package which was floppy and rectangular and she wondered if it was some sort of gag gift. Maybe a cooking for dummies type magazine. She was pleasantly surprised to withdraw from an envelope a course catalog from Stanford. Before she could ask, a slip of paper slid free and she caught it automatically. She gasped when she read the amount listed on what was a cashier's check.
What...?" she began, puzzled.
"You were talking about taking some courses," Dean murmured, "so I uh... asked Sam for this. He uh, circled some of the courses that he was interested in." Dean took the catalog and flipped through until he found one and slid it back to her.
"And the money is to cover tuition and book fees," John explained.
"You might have to wait for spring enrollment," Dean added. "Sam wasn't sure about some of the deadlines."
"But if you decide to do something else with the money, that's okay too," John continued hastily. "It's for whatever you might want, or need." Max stared at them, a little misty-eyed.
"Gah," Dean snorted. "Thee she goes gettin' all girly on us again! Save it for Sammy's gift." Max laughed and set the catalog aside. The check however, she folded carefully and slipped into her pocket. She did not want to lose it. She opened the sentimentally sweet card that Sam had included and then reached for the box. As she unwrapped it Dean warned, "now remember, this is just one gift for you to have now. Sammy's saving whatever else he got you for when you get out there." Max nodded and unwrapped a jewelry box. She was delighted as she pulled out a silver charm bracelet. John and Dean leaned in close to see, as Sam hadn't given anyone a clue as to what it was.
"Now I know what he meant when he wrote about special moments," Max murmured as she fingered a tiny silver motorcycle.
"Oh yeah," Dean chuckled. "That was certainly a memorable day." She drew the different charms through her fingers.
"A soccer ball?" she smiled.
"And a life preserver," John noted. "I think he meant those two to go together," referring to Max saving his life at Pastor Jim's, so long ago.
"And that's gotta be Rumsfeld," Dean smiled, fingering the charm of a puppy. There was a birthday cake, an open book, a grad cap and several more, like the beach ball, that she wasn't about to explain to the blissfully ignorant males. But her favorite charm by far, was the tiny silver heart with a diamond chip in the center, obviously there to signify the pendant that he'd given her for Christmas, the one she was wearing at that moment.
"This is so wonderful," she sniffled. John took the bracelet, unclasped the catch and wrapped it around her wist.
"That boy's got good taste," he commented softly.
"I have to call him," Max announced happily, pulling her arm back to reach for her cell phone, enjoying the small tinkling of the charms clinking together.
"Told ya so," Dean grunted disgustedly.
"Well gee," John retorted softly, but sarcastically. "Not like the odds weren't so hugely in favor of her calling him. It's gotten as she so much as sneezes and she has to call and tell him."
"I know!" Dean crowed. "She had to call and tell him about roadkill the other day!"
Max ignored them as she listened to the phone ringing through. He finally answered, out of breath.
"Hey Max!" he gasped.
"Hey," she greeted. "What were you doing?"
"Umm... something," he replied evasively.
"Something?" Max repeated, her tone heavy with humorous sarcasm. "What are you hiding?"
"Something," he chuckled. "And don't try to keep fishing Maxie. "Cause if I tell you what I was doing, then I'd have to explain why I was doing it and then I'd have to explain why I was doing it. And then I'd have to tell you what I was thinking and that would just... so no."
Max arched an eyebrow. "So I'll just assume that you're doing something with regards to whatever surprise you're cooking up that Dean warned me about?"
Sam laughed. "I am neither admitting to nor denying anything!"
"All right," Max sighed. "I'll be a good girl." She ignored the males looks at her from across the table. "So I love the bracelet!"
"Ah, I'm glad," Sam enthused. "I uh... had a little trouble finding some of those."
"Well they are all perfect," she announced.
"So what have you got planned now?" Sam asked and Max heard him moving something around, but she knew better than to ask now.
"Mini-golf," she informed him as she began helping John repack her gifts and cards. Dean was busy getting a box to take the rest of the cheesecake with them to enjoy later.
"What is it with you two and that game?" Sam snorted. Max laughed for a long time before she told him.
"Dad asked the exact same thing."
"Well he's obviously just as stymied as I am," Sam grinned.
"Well," Max drawled, "seeing's how they're the only sticks and balls I'm allowed to play with right now..."
"Max!" Sam exclaimed with a shocked laugh.
"...because Dean's ticked that I keep beating his ass at pool," she ended with a laugh. She knew what they thought she was talking about, because she'd meant them to. They continued to talk and joke as John paid the bill and they stowed her gifts in the Impala. The game palace was on the same block as the restaurant, so they walked down after locking up the vehicles. They played a raucous game amidst all the other patrons. The males teased her about playing with one hand because she refused to relinquish her cell phone. It drove them nuts when she constantly his par or below, even with her self-imposed handicap. She called Sam her good luck charm, which prompted Dean into snatching the phone away. It was restored instantly when, with her hands free, she gained a hole in one. Naturally she won the game with her great scores, but when the clerk noted her hole in one he handed her a certificate for a free cone at the ice cream counter and her choice of the free game, or the barrel. Max, knowing that they wouldn't be around to use the game card, opted for the barrel. She gave a little laugh when she withdrew a tiny pair of teddy bears sharing a kiss. She was jostled aside by a pair of boys and noticed a little girl, following behind with her parents. The girl's mother was cajoling her about not pouting over just missing a hole in one. Since she had her cheesecake, Max cleared it with the parents and passed along her card for the free ice cream. After a sweet thank you, the girl skipped ahead to taunt her brothers about it.
"Passing the brat torch?" Dean teased.
"The reign of terror had to end some time," Max replied mournfully as she tucked her teddy bears into her coat. "Let's go cajole ourselves with cheesecake and even cheesier horror movies."
"Sounds good to me," Dean chuckled, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.
Unfortunately, the movies were so familiar to Max, who could quote nearly every single line, that she ended up spending her time thinking of all the things she'd do when she finally saw Sam. Of course, thinking of Sam made her fidgety. And her fidgeting drove Dean nuts.
"Maybe you'd better go to bed sweetie," John directed. Max obeyed, but the tossing and turning was just as annoying.
"Can I just knock her out Dad?" Dean whined and John tiredly shook his head.
"She's just excited Dean."
"Yeah, about leaving us," Dean snorted.
"Can you really blame me?" Max sighed. "Do we really have to wait so long?"
"Sorry, we do," John stated simply. "I'm not driving anywhere until Ive had some sleep."
"So go to bed already," Max directed and promptly laid down herself. The males grudgingly complied and were sound asleep not long after. But sleep eluded Max the rest of the night. She was used to that though. Unfortunately, she wasn't used to the level of constant excitement thrumming through her system. She was so close to being with Sam that not doing something to achieve that was suffocating her. She was up so early and rummaging and repacking so much hat it woke John, who grumbled and complained. And even though she didn't ask, he finally gave in and decided that they'd head out a day early. Dean didn't fall in so eagerly with the plans until Max managed to snatch the Impala keys and threaten to leave him stranded. She knew that they weren't looking forward to loosing her full time, but she couldn't let that slow her down. She had her own way and own path to follow.
But fate stepped in as she was riding with John in the truck. She was flipping through the course catalog that Sam had sent, circling the courses that she was interested. She was checking the requirements and debating each with John. They were just coming to the Nevada California border when John's phone rang. Assuming it was Dean, wanting another break, he answered, but immediately his face grew dark.
"Caleb? What?" His voice held enough alarm that Max immediately pulled out her phone and dialed Dean while looking for someplace to pull to a stop. She found a spot and silently pointed it out to John, who nodded and she informed Dean that they were stopping. "No, we're just about to California. No. I understand. Yeah, as soon as I can." John hung up and turned to face Max, who'd rolled down her window when Dean had approached.
"Trouble?" her brother asked.
"Caleb needs help. It's urgent. I'm sorry Maxie," John apologized. "I'm the closest person he's got." Both Dean and Max caught his use of the word 'I'.
"Okay," Dean nodded, taking charge. "Max, get any of your stuff left in the truck into the car. Dad and I'll unload your bike. Let's go." Max was already unbuckling and scrambling for the items that had gotten scattered around. The truck bounced a little as the weight of the bike was removed from it. Together, all three pulled out the few boxes loaded with her items in the truck and transferred them to the Impala to join her few duffel bags of clothing. Once the task was finished, John turned to face his daughter. She waited expectantly.
"Well," he sighed, smiling sadly. "I guess this is goodbye," he murmured.
"For now," Max quickly amended.
"For now," John agreed. He pulled her into a long hug. "If you need me for anything, day or night, you call me," he rumbled.
"I will," she whispered into his coat.
"I mean it sweetheart. If I can be there, I will."
"I know Dad," she pulled back and smiled tremulously. John sniffed once, emotions flitting across his face.
"I don't know how on earth I got such great kids,"
"Just lucky I guess," Max murmured teasingly.
"I love you sweetheart," John told her huskily and pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Love you too Daddy," Max sniffled as she wrapped her arms around him once more. They stayed like that for a while until John cleared his throat.
"Well, I';m burning daylight here." He turned to Dean. "Call me when she's settled in and we'll figure out where to meet up." Dean nodded.
"Take care of Caleb Dad. I can handle Maxie."
"In your dreams," Max and John snorted out at the same time and laughed as Dean looked put out. John squeezed Max's arm once as he passed and then he clambered into his truck and was soon headed back th way they'd just come.
"All right," Dean straightened up once the truck had faded from sight. "I'll take the lead. I'll need to gas up again soon. If you need to pull over, get ahead of me to warn me."
"Gotcha," Max agreed. She pulled out her phone and set it to vibrate. "All right, let me grab my gear and I'll be set." He followed her back to the car while she grabbed her helmet and gloves. Once she started up the motorcycle, he pulled out and the trek continued.
They pulled over only for gas and later in the evening, to eat. Dean, who admitted to himself that he was just as eager to see Sammy as well, decided that they'd go ahead and keep traveling. But he was deadly serious about not driving while drowsy. Knowing that she had little to fear in that department, Max still gave in on that point because she didn't want anything to happen to her brother. They headed out again from the diner they'd stopped at, feeling better for having filled their stomachs. But along about three in the morning, Max noticed Dean slowing down. He pulled off the highway and Max followed, managing to pull the Ninja right up to the driver's side window. Dean had rolled down his window and stared up owlishly at her.
"How the hell can you not be dog tired?" he demanded surlily.
"Adrenaline?" she shrugged. "Excitement? I'm naturally nocturnal? Take your pick."
"I'd rather take a nap," Dean groused.
"Okay," Max nodded. "Let's find a motel."
"I can't," Dean mumbled through a yawn. "Seriously Maxie. I can't drive another two feet let alone who knows how many more miles."
"Oh," Max sighed in disappointment. "Well... I suppose..."
"You wanna keep goin' huh?" Dean slurred slightly. He sighed and thought it over. "All right, if you think you can handle it, go ahead and keep driving. Call me when you stop somewhere. But make sure you let me sleep for a few hours first. It won't do me any good if you call me ten minutes from now."
"And if I don't find anywhere to stop between here and there?" she asked teasingly. Dean grunted.
"Then I guess you drive straight through then. Something tells me I don't need to be there for your mushy reunion anyways."
"All right," Max grinned.
"But," Dean warned threateningly and Max sighed.
"How did I know this was coming?" she muttered under her breath, but Dean did not let that deter him.
"I know you're excited Max," he softened his tone, just barely. "But you and I both know that Sam would rather have you arrive in one piece. If you get tired..."
"I will pull over and rest, I swear to God Dean," Max replied seriously, holding her brother's gaze. "I'm not going to be stupid about this."
"I know," Dean grinned and then nodded.
"Okay," Max grinned again, "make sure the doors are locked and I'll talk to you soon."
Dean nodded, rolled up his window and secured the locks. Max watched him nestle down as comfortably as he could. She restarted her bike, chuckling as it barely disturbed him. All that mattered to her now was getting to Sam.
RTD15- Highway To The Danger Zone
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