Andrea Sanders, legendary hunter, is the kind of legend that only the brave and stupid dare to whisper about at night. After ditching the foster system at sixteen, she follows her father's footsteps into the only life she's ever known: hunting down...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~*~*~*~
The boys stood in front of me, silently watching as I applied bandages to the deeper of the cuts. If they ever needed help cleaning up after a hunt, they had better call someone else. "Such gentlemen." I mumbled under my breath.
They either didn't hear me or chose to ignore me.
"So, what's you're name, rockstar?" Dean asked, leaning against the wall of the little room, his arms crossed over his chest. For a second, I wondered if he knew how attractive he was, but I quickly dismissed the thought, knowing how well it went the last time I found someone attractive.
Forcing myself to focus, I pursed my lips, tasting the blood that lined them. Typically, people didn't get my real name. Normally I lied. But these boys knew Bobby, and now they knew that Bobby knew me. Wow. That was a mouthful. So, giving it up, I looked at them with a sigh. "Andrea Sanders. Pleased to meet ya." I watched their expressions change from bored to shocked in the drop of a hat. "Call me Andy. Everyone does- er, Bobby does. And he's pretty much everyone that matters."
Dean shot a look at his brother, and I recognized the gleam in his eyes. He was freaking out. From what I could gather from the conversation he had had with Bobby that morning on the phone, he was a fan. I could practically see the questions bubbling up in his brain, but he swallowed them all before settling on an apology instead. "Sorry." Dean muttered out, and I raised a slender eyebrow, asking for him to elaborate. "About, you know, torturing you." A laugh bubbled out of me as I watched him. He tensed his jaw at my laugh, seemingly out of reflex before relaxing back into confusion while I found my eyes trailing the stubble that lined it.
'Confused' was probably a constant state for the Winchesters.
Putting all of the supplies back into the duffle and zipping it up, I placed the strap in his outstretched hand. "Don't be." I replied as his fingers curled around the black material and brushing mine ever so slightly. I held his gaze, which narrowed at my response. "Besides," my hand released the bag and instead found the door handle as I finally broke my eyes away, "you're pretty hot when you're pissed off." The comment was off handed, and I only wished I could have seen his reaction to it.
With the door open, I walked out and followed the scent of fresh air to a stair case off to the side. It wasn't hard to tell that we were underground at current as the musty smell was dialed up to one hundred down here. If there was one thing I was good at, it was trusting my instincts; they hadn't failed me yet. The sound of footsteps behind me made me realize that the boys were close behind as I made my own way outside.
A bright red sign informed me of the exit as I pushed the heavy black door open. It was still drizzling lightly, making me smile up into it. Before the boys could make it outside, I let my head fall back and face the sky, spinning slowly with my mouth open to catch the drops. However, at the squeak of the door, I snapped myself back to normal, the smirk coming back to my lips while I turned to face the boys as though I hadn't been acting like a three year old only seconds prior. "Thanks for bringing us to the middle of bum-fricking-no-where. Would you mind taking me back to get Stanley? I don't like leaving him alone." My arms crossed over my chest as I stared between the two of them, waiting for a response. "Hop in." Dean said, walking right past me, a beeline straight toward his car. "But don't you dare scratch Baby." I raised an eyebrow at Sam who just shook his head and motioned for me to follow. The dark leather seats were well worn as I slipped into the back. Sam was the last one in, the top of his head coming close to brushing the roof of the impala as he buckled his seatbelt.
