Supernatural Imagines

The Play's the Thing

You drove your royal blue 1968 Chevy Nova home from town to the bunker. You were coming home from rehearsals at the community theater production of Meet Me in St. Louis. You had the lead part of Esther Smith, as was played by Judy Garland in the movie.

You told Dean you were meeting your best friend, Ruthie, for a couple of drinks at the bar on the edge of town. You didn't want to say anything to the boys about being in the play, because you didn't want them to make fun of what you were doing.

Truth is, you liked the theater, because you got to pretend to be a different person. It wasn't the same as what you did impersonating the FBI to question witnesses. That was just a name change. In the theater, you became that person, that character. And you were good at it.

You parked your car in the garage and checked to make sure you had all the make-up off of your face. Good thing you checked, because you still had that brightly-colored lipstick on your lips from rehearsal. You reached into your glove compartment for the make-up removal wipes. Ever since you started rehearsals, you've stored the wipes in there for just this purpose.

Dean looked up and smiled as you came down the spiral staircase. "Hey, baby, how was drinks with Ruthie?" he asked as he wrapped you in his arms.

You leaned in and gave him a glad-to-be-home kiss. "Mmm, it was good. Since I had to drive, I chose to drink soda instead of my usual," you explained. "I missed you," you said softly.

Dean dove in and recaptured your mouth with his, running his tongue along your lower lip to request entry. You parted your lips enough to let him in as he explored your mouth with his tongue. "Missed you too, baby," he murmured. "Come on, dinner is ready. Can you please help me put it on the table?" he asked.

"Absolutely," you replied as Sam, Cas and Jack came in, and upon seeing you, offered you their greetings. You greeted them back as you put dinner on the table. Dean followed behind you with plates and silverware, which Sam set around for him.

"This looks wonderful, Dean. Thank you for making dinner," you said as you nudged his shoulder. He had made a beef roast and vegetables in the slow cooker. Dean nodded and nudged your shoulder in return.

As you took care of the dinner dishes, you practiced one of your songs for the production that had been giving you some trouble. It was The Trolley Song that you were having problems with, remembering the words. When you were in the middle of the song, you turned around to see Dean watching you from the doorway. A smile was on his face as he asked what you were singing.

"It's from my favorite musical, Meet Me in St. Louis. It-It's been kind of on my mind lately, and I guess the song got stuck in my head," you explained.

Dean wandered over to the sink while you continued to wash dishes. He wrapped his arms around you from behind and nuzzled your neck. "I love you," he murmured against your shoulder. You closed your eyes and melted into his touch. "I love you too, Dean," you replied softly.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Weeks went by, and the closer it got to opening night, the later and later at night you had to stay for rehearsals. Dean was becoming a bit concerned at your late hours, and at the fact that you were around less to help with cases. You told him you had decided to volunteer at the local library in town. It was open until 10:00pm, and he seemed to relax a little.

The longer you were coming home late, the more Dean started to wonder if something else was going on with you. He turned to his younger brother for advice.

"Something's not right with her, Sam. She's been coming home late at night, and she's always tired. Her face sometimes has a lot of make-up, and I mean way different than what she usually has on," Dean finished.