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Whiskey Under The Mistletoe	By : OnyxWildcat Category: Supernatural > Het - Male/Female Views: 1665 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own anything that pertains to the Show Supernatural. This is merely for non-profit entertainment for other writers/readers who enjoy the 'What If' pondering when thinking of Supernatural and all it's Supernatural goodness.

Chapter List
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Chapter Three

�Where you going?� Dean asked as I got up, crossed the room and went for the door.

�I need to go out to my car.� I paused and turned to see them both on their feet. My brow furrowed. �I forget to bring in the groceries.�

I�ve noticed something with these two, if you mention anything that could possibly resort to food or more alcohol, they�ll be perked up like two puppies anticipating a treat. Silly analogy yet strangely accurate.

�Groceries?� Sam said in question and found himself standing to Dean�s right as they approached me. �Why didn�t you mention it earlier? You know we�d help bring anything you have in.�

�You know how much I hate asking for help.� I said as though that explained everything and could see the beginnings of a scrunchy face appear just between Sam�s brow. �It�s not a big deal.�

Dean mirrored Sam�s expression and crossed his arms. �Onyx, answer me somethin�� He trailed off as though considering as to how he word his sentence next. �You�re not runnin� from something�are you?�

Wow Dean being perceptive. Who�da thought? �Not running. More or less walking to the car actually.� Was my smart-ass reply.

�Not alone you�re not.� Dean said and set his jaw in a stubborn line.

�This isn�t a debate, Winchester.� I said and felt the humor on my face leak away. �I�m leaving this room and going to my car. Whether you come with me or not is entirely up to you two. Either way,� I turned the handle and the door slid open a crack, �I�m going.�

I stood there with my gaze locked with Dean�s when Sam placed a hand to Dean�s upper arm. �Come on Dean, she�s not going to run off.� He said softly to his brother and then met my gaze. �We�ll come with you.�

I quirked a brow. �No funny stuff.� I said and they both knew who it was directed for because Dean pursed his lips together and blew out a sigh. �Right?�

Dean gave a slight shake of his head. �Yeah, fine.� He said and cleared the distance between us with a long stride. He took the door from me, opened it wide and motioned for me to go first. �Let�s hurry this up so we can get back to celebrating.�

A faint smile ghosted across my lips as I passed the threshold out onto the motel�s patio. The cool air danced over my face causing me to sigh. �Mmm, that�s nice.� I breathed softly and waited for Sam to stand at my left, Dean to my right.

�Whoa, where�d she come from?� Dean exclaimed while facing the parking lot.

Sam furrowed his brow, clearly confused. �Dean�we�re the only ones out here.�

Dean rolled his eyes and smacked Sam upside the head. �No doofus, the Beast.� He said and motioned just ahead to a cream white, four door hard top Impala parked like a quiet ghost in the consuming darkness.

�Oh�� Sam said with his brows raised and I held in the chuckle at his reaction.

�Oh? Just oh?� Dean scoffed and seemed to completely forget the reason why we were out there in the first place. �I point out a classic to you and all you have to say for yourself is, Oh?�

I crossed my arms and shook my head. �Here we go.� I muttered under my breath and kept the smirk hidden from my face.

�Dude...� Sam barked in annoyance and turned to stare down into his big brother�s eyes. �Don�t talk down to me.�

�I doubt that�s physically possibly.� I said under my breath and stood back to watch the chaos ensue.

�First off, not talkin� down to you. Secondly, I�m a little disappointed that you�re incapable of appreciating a piece of living history.�

Sam gave Dean that �you�re so full of shit� look. �It�s a Car, Dean.�

Dean bristled reminding me of male pigeon puffing up. �No, it�s a classic.�

�Be that as it may, it�s still a Car.� Sam said and crossed his arms.

�Take it back.�

Sam quirked a brow. �Take what back?�

�It�s not just a Car, it�s a classic.� Dean said and physically mirrored his brother.

Sam just looked at him. �Dean, you�re being childish.�

�Say it.�

�No. It�s a Car, Dean.�

�It�s a Classic.�

�It�s a Car.�

�Classic.�

�Car!�

�Classic!�

When they reached the point of one word arguing I was already across the parking lot.

The door unlocked, I sat inside and turned the ignition. The 350 roared to life causing the brothers to stop in mid yell. I reached over and flipped on the radio. The thundering rhythm of Seether�s �Remedy� flooded the quiet night air accompanied by a deep mechanical snarl as I revved the engine.

Their shared expression was priceless.

�You comin�, or what?� I hollered over the engine�s growl and the blaring sound of the music bleeding through the speakers.

They looked to me, jaws slack with astonishment as I pushed the driver�s door wide and stepped out onto the old cracked pavement. �Well?�

*****

Five minutes later, we each held two heavy paper bags apiece and headed away from the 1970 Chevy Impala and back into the motel room.

Dean was still beaming about my relatively new car. �You�ve had her for over four months now and you didn�t think to call?� Dean said and closed the door behind him with the heel of his boot as Sam and myself put the groceries on the small kitchen�s table.

�Dean, we�ve been over this.� I said and helped Sam remove the items from the bags. �We�ve all been busy with the whole Demon Apocalypse thing. Oh and you know what?� I paused as he brought his two bags over to the table. I narrowed my eyes at him. �You could have picked up the phone too.�

Dean had a young look on his face as he set down the bags and looked over my shoulder to Sam for support. I knew that Sam was probably giving him that �you�re on your own� look when Dean apprehensively brought his gaze back to mine. �Yea� But you still should have called.�

I raised my hands and dropped them to my sides, suddenly finding myself angry. �Fine! Fine�you know what? Never mind.� I growled and tore my eyes away from his and focused, rather furiously, on getting the items out of the bags.

I didn�t look up when I felt Dean step closer to me only to feel Sam moving in to pull him away. No one said anything, at least not loud enough for me to hear as they moved to another part of the room. I kept my eyes down and didn�t look up because I didn�t want them to see the burning anger in my eyes as I fought with my emotions.

I was angry because Dean hadn�t called�and that I hadn�t either. I was angry because I knew damned well that I should have called them every chance I got. It hurt me to know that I could have spent more time with them if I hadn�t been so wrapped up in myself. But this was the present, which didn�t give a shit about the past. Today was Christmas, and no matter how bad things were, the world continued turning. If the world stopped for every time someone felt like their life was just too hard to deal with, the world would have ended ages ago. So I pushed my self pity into a tiny box and kicked its insignificant ass to the curb. Pettiness was not on my to-do list.

I was so wrapped up in my internal dialogue that I didn�t sense Sam�s presence when he was suddenly standing in front of me across the small table. I paused and realized that I�d planted my hands, palms down flat, on the table�s surface and had my eyes closed. I was a better Hunter then that. My shields were generally securely in place which allowed nothing to get passed me without my energy sensing it like a cat searching the darkness for prey. But right then, I was weak. I hadn�t heard their conversation nor Sam as he stood before me.

I really needed to get my shit together. Because if you�re a careless Hunter, you end up a very dead one.

I rose up slowly and as I did I regained what was left of my composure. I could feel the cold sensation of calm roll through me which I knew caused my eyes to appear lifeless and empty. To get myself under control, I had to wipe away the emotions to function. The unfortunate side affect, was the little to no expression on my face. It used to bother me when I went to that deep silence� The place I went right before I killed, but now�it was a necessity.

When I met Sam�s gaze I saw the shift of concern run deeper as he witnessed my face become stone. �I know you don�t want to hear this, but Dean�he has a point.� He stopped to search my eyes, his expression soft. �You could have called.�

He was right, I didn�t want to hear it. But there was nothing I could do about it, so I didn�t argue. �True, but the same goes for you too. Both of you.� I put up a hand so I could continue. �I�m not arguing the point Sam. So let�s drop it and enjoy the rest of the night.�

I saw the pain in his eyes when I didn�t show any emotion and opened a big bottle of Jack Daniels. Instead of pressing the issue further, he tried a different approach. �Eggnog or Coke?�

His question stopped me from bringing the bottle to my lips. �Eggnog�s fine.� I said in a quiet voice and watched him hurry off to get the red Dixie cups I purchased and the eggnog from the small fridge. My eyes followed him as he brought everything out in front of me, his face unreadable.

The next few minutes went by in silence as we mixed the whiskey with eggnog and nuked a family sized portion of Stouffer�s Mac and Cheese in the small microwave next to the fridge. I�d had a few swigs of the whiskey to get that first initial sting out of the way as I went around placing big portions of the Mac and Cheese in microwave safe bowls for the three of us. I sighed as the alcohol spread through me like a warm wave of comfort, easing the tension in my shoulders that I didn�t even know was there.

I sat the boys plates in front of them on the coffee table as they sipped the rather strong eggnog Sam and I had concocted. I went back over to kitchen table, grabbed my plate and cup, and made my way back to the boys. I stood there for a moment but only Sam returned my gaze and motioned for me to sit between them on the couch. Dean however, had his eyes on the Television, doing his best to pretend I wasn�t there. Fine, not my problem. Though I�m sure Sam would beg to differ.

I sat, we ate�in silence. So I drained my cup and followed with another�more whiskey, less eggnog. Sam and Dean followed my lead and by the time we�d reached our fourth, plates empty, I was resting my head against Sam�s shoulder as the original version of How The Grinch Stole Christmas played on the small Television set. A yawn broke through me and I suddenly found my eyes rather heavy and decided to take a small nap�

Which, of course, didn�t last very long.

*****
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Whiskey Under The Mistletoe