Cherry Pie

Bobby's

[Rayne]

I woke up slowly, stretching all of my aching limbs as gently as I could. A headache was stirring behind my eyelids and my mouth was Sahara-Desert-dry. I felt the sheets beneath me; my fingertips brushed the edge of the mattress. My bed at home wasn't this narrow. I frowned, trying to recall where I was when I fell asleep. I was in the Impala, with Dean.

My eyes opened wider as I studied the cramped room. The bed that I was on was pushed against the far wall, beneath a small, dirty window. There was an old dresser standing next to the door and a little desk with a lamp by my side.

Favoring the right side of my body, I sat up slowly. The nausea wasn't as severe as before, but I was far from fine. I made my way out the door slowly, trying to wipe the sleep from my eyes. Standing in the narrow hallway, I paused, listening for any sounds. Looking down at myself I realized I was still in my bartending outfit but that someone had taken off my cowboy boots while I was sleeping.

"Dean?" The house was silent. "Dean?" I called out louder when no one answered.

"We're down here!" Dean's voice shouted from somewhere down below.

I went over to the stairs and clambered down, holding onto the railing tightly once I realized my balance was still shot. I walked over to where I thought Dean's voice came from. I found them in what looking like the living room. Dean was standing by the window, skimming through a large book. Sam was sitting behind the desk with a laptop. An older man, whom I gathered to be Bobby, was sitting on the edge of the sofa with a beer bottle in his hands.

Studying their nearly identical outfits, I smirked. "What, is the plaid convention in town?"

All three heads turned my way. Dean glowered at me, Bobby was examining me warily, and Sam smiled as he got up and sauntered over my way. After giving me a quick side hug, he inspected my bandaged head. "Good to see you awake, Rayne," he said warmly. "How're you feeling?"

"Kind of left out." I gave him a mock frown. "I forgot my plaid shirt at home."

Bobby and Sam laughed while Dean gave me another dirty look. "I'm sure one of these boys will lend one to you if you asked nicely," Bobby said. "Lord knows they've got enough to share with the whole world." He set his beer down and walked over to me with an outstretched arm. "I'm Bobby, nice to meet ya, kid."

He had brown hair that was partially hidden beneath a trucker's cap, a matching beard and mustache, and kind blue-green eyes. There was something nonthreatening and also comforting about his whole demeanor, and I immediately decided to like him. I shook his hand and smiled politely. "Rayne Adams. Pleasure."

Bobby raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Sam and Dean. "Ain't she a polite one?" He then looked at me with a warm smile. "Don't let them corrupt you — it's refreshing!"

I gave him a genuine grin then. "I'll have them talking like gentleman in no time, Bobby."

"Like hell," Dean grumbled.

Sam laughed, shaking his head at us.

"Can I get you anything, Rayne?" Bobby asked. "Coffee? A beer maybe?"

"Uh, what time is it?" I asked, scanning the room for a clock.

Sam checked his wristwatch. "It's half past 12, why?"

"Oh, I just usually don't drink coffee past noon." I shrugged. "But I could really use a cup right about now."

"Coffee it is," Bobby said, heading to the kitchen.

Dean threw the book he was reading on the table and walked over to me. "So, why don't you drink coffee past noon?"

I shifted from one foot to the other, playing with my hands. "It gets me all hyper, and I can't sleep well." I peeked up at him and he was on the verge of laughing.