La Jetee (Avec Soleil)
Ξ August 25th, 2007 | → | ∇ Imitating Angels, Supernatural, fanfic, gen, het, nc17 |
Title: La Jetee (Avec Soleil)
Author: Astrothsknot
Fandom: Supernatural/Buffy
Series: Imitating Angels AU
Rating: NC17 for sex, language and ovary abuse
Characters: Dean/Faith, their children and Bobby
Disclaimer: I don’t own a TV show
A/N Pheebs1 and her Dean and Sam with kids or babies shmoop request for prompts. I wrote one instead.
There’s a photo in the kitchen, pinned to the wall. It’s one of the happiest days of Dean’s life. This is how it got there.
They drive all through the night to get there, Dean taking turns with Faith while the other sleeps. The long drive sends Ricky and Joanna to sleep long before dark.
Faith looks over. “Told you all that softball would knock him out.”
“It’s knocking me out. Pull over in 30?” Dean glances in the mirror, wrinkling his nose. “Balls to never disturbing a sleeping baby. I’m changing her next stop.”
“She starts screaming the place down, you’re fucking dealing with it.” Faith settles back in the seat.
“I can’t believe you can’t smell her.”
There’s no answer. Faith’s asleep.
Dean grins as he drives on into the night.
***
Faith pulls up next to Bobby’s pick-up and the dog comes running up to meet her as she unfolds herself stiffly from the Impala, on the passenger side. It’s still dark, but Bobby’s already up, opening the door and smiling at them.
“Hey, Faith,” he smiles, hugging her. “Need a hand with anything?”
“Dean’ll need a hand with the bags and the baby stuff. I’ll get Joey.” She opens the rear door of the Impala, unclipping the harness of the babyseat. Joey stays asleep.
“Wish I could sleep like that. She’s beautiful, like her Momma.” Bobby’s gruff face has gone soft. “Need me to take Ricky?”
“I’ll get him, Bobby,” Dean says as he takes a travel crib and other baby paraphernalia out the trunk. “Take this?”
“Sure. I’ve done up the back room for you.” Bobby takes some of the bags. “You leave any clothes back home?”
***
“I pushed the two singles together and I’ve got that camp bed out for Ricky,” Bobby says as he takes them through to the back room.
“Thanks, Bobby,” replies Dean. He’s carrying a sleeping Ricky on one arm and looks longingly at the beds. Bobby catches it.
“I got stuff to do. You guys get yourselves settled and I’ll see you later. You know where everything is.” Bobby extends a hand and Dean shakes it, as Bobby slaps him on the shoulder.
They put the kids in the middle and crawl into bed. They’re asleep in moments, their children snug against them.
***
Ricky wakes up a few hours later, crawls out the bed, careful not to disturb Joanna or his parents. He finds his way to the kitchen. Bobby’s sitting in there, reading an ancient, leather-bound book. He ignores the child, until Ricky is sitting opposite him. He’s got his favourite toy, a little pink bunny sitting on his knee.
“Mornin’,” says Bobby, gruffly. “Good sleep?”
“Yeah, s’ok,” replies Ricky. “Whatcha readin’?”
“Just workin’ out if this incantation works better than that one. I was going to ask your Momma if one of those Looker people she knows could tell me.”
“Can I see?” Ricky is all grown up and business-like.
Bobby nods and turns the book towards him. “You want coffee or some breakfast?”
“Coffee and some toast. Man can’t work on an empty stomach.” Ricky doesn’t take his eyes from the book, too engrossed to hear the splutter from behind the door frame. Bobby sets a mug of milk to heat in the microwave, while he waits on the toast in the grill. The microwave pings and he adds half a teaspoon of instant coffee to the milk. He knocks some off the edge of the spoon after a glance to the door frame and the shadow behind it shakes his head. It nods when Bobby’s knocked off enough.
Bobby stirs it, then sets it down in front of Ricky. The toast’s also ready, so he sets that down with the butter as well. Ricky nods his thanks, before trying to pick up the toast and knife, but it’s too big for his four year old hands.
“Why don’t I do that, seeing as you’re busy studying an’ all?” Bobby holds out his hands for the food. Ricky thinks for a moment, then hands it over. Bobby spreads the butter before putting it back down on the plate. He taps a particular word, before asking, “You got a particular opinion on that?”
It keeps Ricky busy enough for Bobby to hand a mug of black coffee to the hand behind the door, silver ring glinting in the sunlight.
“I think you have to put the enyfis there,” Ricky points to the first syllable of the word Bobby had indicated. “Lily does when she’s doing booting spooks.”
“And she would know. I’ll try that next time I’m booting a spook.” Bobby marks the place with a post-it note. “So, you got anything planned with your Daddy today?”
“I was going to help him wash the Pala and he says he needs to fix the wheels because Momma can’t drive if her ass is on fire.” Ricky looks confused for a minute. “How could Momma drive if her ass was on fire? She’d be all sore and crash the Pala.”
Dean can’t hold it any more and comes out from the behind the door, laughing. “Don’t tell Momma I said that and I won’t tell her you swore,” he grins, scooping Ricky up. He‘s not wearing a t-shirt and there are fresh bruises covering his torso. He grimaces as Ricky accidentally knees him in one. “Christ, Bobby what’s in that toast? Cement?”
“I was thinkin’, since it’s been a while since I saw the boy and you and Faith probably aren’t sleeping cos of the baby, maybe, he’d like to come out with me this morning. I’m just buying some parts and a couple of tows, so he’ll be fine.”
“Let me have my coffee first,” says Dean lightly, but Bobby can see the worry in his face. Dean doesn’t like having Ricky out his sight for too long. “How long will you be?”
“Two, three hours, tops,” replies Bobby.
“Daddy, I want to go with Bobby. Pleeeeease. I’ll be good. I won’t get shut in the trunk again.” Ricky’s face is a mix of hopeful pleading and earnestness.
Dean gives a faint nod. “OK, but you gotta do exactly what Bobby says. Make sure he wears a seatbelt, cos Bobby forgets sometimes. Gettin’ old.”
“I can still kick your ass. Still got a shotgun loaded with the Winchester name on it. It’s not fussy which one it gets.”
Dean puts Ricky down, playfully smacking the kid’s butt. “Go get dressed. You got some clothes in the diaper bag. I‘ll be through to clean your teeth in a minute.”
His smile vanishes the second Ricky’s out of sight. “They tried again to get the kids on the way here. Faith nearly crashed the Impala. It’s going to take a few days to fix. I got a list of parts that I’ll need for starters.” Dean digs into his pocket and pulls out a short list of car parts.
“Sure. This’ll be the second time since Joanna was born, right? Isn’t that more than they’ve tried with Ricky?” Bobby pulls a bottle of holy water out the fridge.
“I don’t think they care which one they get,” says Dean as he finishes his coffee. “Right, I gotta go clean some teeth before he puts the toothpaste up his nose. He had a booger and he thought that would clean it out,” Dean explains in response to Bobby’s blank look.
***
“I just made this coffee if you want some. How bad’s the Impala? ” Faith asks when Dean comes back in from looking at the damage to his oldest baby. She’s reading a cheap romance novel, sipping coffee and she’s got her feet crossed on the table. The polish on her toenails is chipped and her hair’s in a casual ponytail.
“You look fucking sexy in my shirt,” Dean says, voice low, rough. He moves towards her, dropping to his knees in front of her.
Faith puts down her book and her mug as Dean runs a hand along her legs. “Well, you don’t want to wear it. Car?”
“Car’s shot to shit, Ricky’s out with Bobby, Joey’s sleeping, we nearly died earlier and you look fucking sexy in my shirt.” Dean parts Faith’s legs, still running his hands along them. She leans forward, cupping his face in her hands.
“You haven’t shaved,” she murmurs, leaning in to kiss him.
“You have.” It’s a gentle kiss at first, before their lips part. It’s slow and easy, tongues gliding along each other, matching the slip of their hands on skin.
Faith traces her fingers through the soft, short hair at Dean’s neck, smiling a little as he shivers, skims her palms down the muscles of his back. He’s a little greasy, little sweaty, because he’s not showered since the previous morning. She doesn’t care as she leans over his back, licking and kissing, tasting the salt on his skin, tasting Dean.
He makes it easy for her, she’s folded over his back as Dean mouths his way up the inside of Faith’s thighs; his hands trailing patterns along the outlines of the muscles, feeling them shift under his touch as she moves. She jumps a little as he gets closer to her panties.
Dean splays his hands along Faith’s hips, sliding his fingers into the sides of her panties as he begins to lick and suck at her through the black cotton. He bites gently at her clit, her sensitive inner lips, growling as her fingers dig into his back. She’s crossed her legs over his ass, locking them tight as she pulls him to her.
Faith gives a slight jerk when he gives an extra hard suck on her clit, using the friction of the material to draw out those sighs she gives only with him. Dean can feel her lying along his back, panting and moaning. She’s not playing her fingers along his back anymore - that needs too much concentration and she doesn’t have it right now. She’s just clinging on tight for dear life.
Dean keeps it up for a few more minutes, Faith’s taste getting stronger on his tongue as fabric gets wetter. She’s digging her fingers into his shoulders hard enough to hurt now and her legs have started to tremble as she moves closer to the edge. Dean pushes up against her, forcing Faith to sit upright as he tenses his arms and lifts her up by the hips.
He turns them, sitting Faith on Bobby’s table. They try to push the books aside, clear a space, but the books are too tightly packed on the small surface. “I’ll just sit up,” she gasps against his lips and Dean nods, because the feel of her tits through his shirt, her legs locked around his ass, well, it’s driving him insane.
His hand comes off Faith’s hip as he unbuttons his fly, making sure his knuckles work her clit as he pulls his dick out his boxers. He doesn’t take off her panties, just pushes them aside as he sinks himself into tight, wet heaven.
“Ohhhh…Fuck! Dean…” Faith gasps against her his mouth as Dean finally kisses her again, sucking on her lips, licking behind her teeth, still slow and lazy like the way he’s thrusting into her. It’s an easy pace, no rush, just melting liquid sounds lost among the books in Bobby’s kitchen.His free arm is tight around her back, fingers gently rubbing the sensitive skin where her ass meets her back. She mewls slightly, a high-pitched sexy sound, that she’ll never admit to making, but Dean loves it best of all the sounds she makes when it’s just them, here, like this. He pulls back from their kiss, drinking in her face, brown eyes almost black this close up, heavy and swollen. He smirks slightly as the fingers holding her panties aside start rubbing her clit, still that lazy, easy rhythm keeping time with his dick.
Faith’s expression would give Dean the clues that she’s close, even if he couldn’t feel the tremors against his dick and he doesn’t want to bring this to a close, not this soon, but he thinks he can hear his daughter babbling happily to herself. He speeds up the movements of his fingers and his cock, feeling his own orgasm building in his balls and back. It takes a few more minutes, for Faith to come, strong muscles rippling around him, sucking on his dick. He keeps her going until it’s his turn, her pulses and his spurts meshing together, till neither’s quite sure where one begins and the other ends.
Dean stays inside Faith as they come down, kisses turning from passion to affection, just holding her close as their breathing slows.
Joanna’s babbling turns to an indignant squawk. Dean grins, before kissing Faith one last time. “I’ll get her. You finish your coffee.”
He picks up her mug and takes a sip before handing it to her with a grimace. “It’s cold!”
“I’ll make another one, Sweet Lips,” she laughs. “Now get our daughter before she starts squalling.”
Dean tidies himself up as he walks out the kitchen. “Git ma breakfast on, woman!”
***
Dean comes out the shower to find Faith feeding Joey banana and milk. There’s more on the five month old than there is inside her. “Here comes the ghostie! Eat the ghostie! Yay! You saved the world!”
“What’s wrong with parking the car in the garage?” Dean asks.
“Boring! I’m starting as we mean to go on. Right, sugar?” Faith croons to her daughter, who responds with a delighted Aaah! “Thought we’d take today easy, after that drive. You packed the Telebubbies DVDs, right?”
“And her Puppy Tails books. I thought that we’d go to town and walk around the park or something. We can watch TV any day.” Dean goes to the coffee maker and pours mugs for him and Faith, careful to put them out the baby’s reach.
“OK,” replies Faith. “We’ll just fly there, right?”
“No, Killer. Bobby’s not going to mind if we borrow one of his junkers. The babyseat fits into a minivan.” Dean sips his coffee. “I’ll pack the diaper bag. What the hell did you think I was doing out there?”
“Something to the Impala that starts with F?” Faith teases in her best come hither voice.
“Nah, I’m allergic to the wax,” he says matter of factly as he goes to get the diaper bag.
***
It’s forty minutes to Hardy, the town nearest to Bobby’s yard. It’s not big, certainly smaller than Duke’s Pass, but it’s like every small town that Dean’s ever been in. So he knows there are certain things that this town is going to have - a grocery store and a park for one thing.
He parks the minivan, getting out the stroller while Faith slathers suncream on her daughters’ delicate skin.
“You’d never think this was April!” Says a middle-aged woman coming out the grocery store.
“It feels like June,” agrees Dean, seeing Faith stiffen slightly, knowing she’s ready to do damage. He sneezes. “Christo!”
The woman turns to him with a smile. “Hay fever, son? Mine’s been playing up something awful for the last week. But the weather’s worth it.”
“Sure is,” he smiles at the woman, watching her go weak at the knees. He was always better with passing the time of day with strangers than Faith. She moves to put Joanna in the stroller, but Dean holds out his arms for her. “I’ll just carry her, honey.”
“And I get to push the stroller?” Faith crosses her arms in mock indignation. Dean laughs as he adjusts his hold on Joanna. The baby giggles and starts trying to bite Dean’s pendant.
“What a beautiful baby girl!” Exclaims the woman. “How old?”
“Five months,” replies Faith. “She just got her first tooth last week. She likes teething on Daddy‘s amulet.”
“My youngest teethed on a leather keyfob. She looks like you, dear,” says the woman. “But I think she has her Daddy’s eyes.”
“Yeah and I need them back. I can’t see to drive,” grins Dean, proud father.
“Have a nice day,” laughs the woman. “You make a beautiful family.”
It takes over half an hour to buy bread and some stuff for a picnic lunch. Everyone wants to coo over the beautiful baby girl with the handsome father and adoring mother. They make such a loving, happy picture; it’s hard not to smile.
***
Bobby calls Dean’s cell at lunch-time. He’s made some calls and found a ‘67 Impala in some guys’ yard. It’s Dean’s for 100 bucks, but it’s a two hour drive there. He can bring Ricky back, but it means that Dean will have to wait for two days before he can start fixing up the car.
“I don’t want to go back! I want to pick up the new Pala!” Dean can hear the wail on the other end of the line. It sounds like his mouth’s full. “I’ve beenhaving! I’m still beenhaving!”
Dean pauses for a moment. “OK, Bobby, but don’t let him have too much candy.”
“It’s not the candy that’s the problem,” replies Bobby. “It’s all the damn waitresses trying to feed this one pie. I’ve got more pie than you can shake a stick at, sittin’ on my seat.”
“You can’t shake a stick at the pie,” Ricky says. “You haven’t got one.”
“He’s your boy alright, Dean. Right down to the smart mouth,” Bobby groans, but it’s with affection.
Dean laughs and hangs up the phone.
***
Joanna loves the ducks and the squirrels.
She grins in gummy delight when the ducks waddle up her as Dean crouches in the grass with her, holding out the bread to the white birds and they guzzle the bread from her tight little fist.
She giggles uncontrollably when Dean throws some bread and they all start fighting on the water, splashing and flapping.
“She’s squealing so much, I don’t know how she’s not scared them all away,” smiles Faith, as she passes a sandwich to Dean. Joanna grabs the sandwich and throws it to the ducks.
“What’s Daddy going to eat now? What’s Daddy going to eat now?” Dean sing-songs as he swings her round. “I’ll eat…..Joey!”
He starts blowing raspberries on her leg while the baby screams with laughter. “She tastes real good, Momma.”
“Great,” says Faith. “I’ll never have to change a shitty diaper again. You going to feed her?”
“I’ll do it, you did breakfast,” Dean says as he sits down at the picnic table with her on his lap. Faith hands him a jar of baby food, a spoon and a bottle of milk. Dean adjusts his hold on Joanna so she can’t knock anything over. “If I’m gonna eat Joey…we’ll have to…fatten her up!” He tickles her tummy and she squeals.
Dean spoons a small amount in the baby’s mouth. Joey chews it a little then spits it out. “Yuck!” Croons Dean. “No likey, Sweetie?”
He gathers it back up in the spoon and puts it back in her mouth. She swallows it this time, before straining to reach the pot that Dean’s holding just beyond her grasp. Joanna gives an annoyed squawk, before looking back at her father and squawking again.
“Joey, no!” Dean says sharply. “No touch!”
Joanna looks at her father, lip quivering. “Christ, you look just like your uncle. He used to do that.”
“Used to?” Snorts Faith.
“Hey, sweetie, don’t cry,” croons Dean, blowing a raspberry on her forehead, under the frill of her pink sunhat. The baby looks uncertain, until she decides that Daddy isn’t shouting, so it’s all good. Dean spoons some more in her mouth, which she promptly spits back out again.
“Dammit, your Momma swallows. Why can’t you?” Dean mutters.
“Dean!” Faith snaps. Joey just gives a wide gummy smile, new tooth hidden under the gloop. It’s one of the most beautiful things that Dean’s ever seen.
***
“I don’t know why we bothered bringing the stroller,” says Faith, as she loads it back into the minivan.
“We might have needed it,” replies Dean.
“Maybe, if you ever, like, put Joey down,” Faith points out.
“She is down. Look, she’s all strapped in.” Dean gives her a final kiss before getting in the front seat and starting the van. She’s tired, it’s not going to be long before she’s asleep. She cries a little, reaching out for Dean. He gives Joey a guilty look. “She’s used to being rocked to sleep.”
“It’s not a bad drive, this,” says Dean as he pulls out of town. “You can get quite a lot of junk in it. That‘s going to be important when Ricky starts school and Little League.”
“And you can get a body in the trunk of the Impala. Are you possessed?” Faith stares at him incredulously. “Christ, I can’t wait to tell Sam that one.”
***
Faith offers to fix dinner while Bobby and Dean look at the new car. Ricky spends most of the time scooped up in his Daddy’s arms, veering between telling Dean excitably about his day - it seems to have involved lots of pie - and being all grown up as Dean walks around the car, working out what he’ll need from it to fix up his own Pala.
Ricky copies Dean’s expressions, right down to the frown lines, Bobby notes as he watches them.
“I’ll have to take the fenders, because ours are buckled,” Dean says, licking his lip as he does so. Ricky licks his as he asks, “What about the doors, Daddy?”
“Those as well, maybe the trunk and the hood, re-spray,” Dean replies.
“I can do that,” asserts Ricky. “Bobby says I’m a big help.”
“You sure are, boy. Damn,” he mutters.
“What?” Dean asks absently.
“Twenty-five years ago I could be having this conversation with you and your Daddy,” says Bobby. “He would have loved this.”
“Yeah,” Dean says, quietly. There’s silence for a moment before Bobby speaks again. “He’ll be looking down, knowing he did the right thing.”
Dean looks at Ricky for a long minute, before nodding. “We’ll go see how Momma’s doing with dinner. I can’t smell smoke, so I’m guessing Bobby still has a kitchen.”
“Think we’ll eat it?” Asks Ricky. “Daddy, don’t love me so hard. You’re squashing me.”
“Hope so,” replies Dean. “I’m starving. Your sister fed my lunch to the ducks.”
“Will you have room for pie?” Ricky asks. It’s plainly very important to the child.
“I’ve always got room for pie,” Dean smiles as he tickles his son. Only Bobby notices the younger man’s glittering eyes and he says nothing.
***
“What’s the damage?” Asks Bobby. It’s late and the kids are in bed. Faith’s sitting on Bobby’s back porch reading her novel with a beer. The two men are a little ways off, watching the mosquitoes chase around the lights.
“Doors, front and rear fenders are gone and rims are fucked, so new wheels on the drivers’ side. New brake pads and axles as well. Re-hang the trunk and hood. I haven’t seen any damage to the engine. Four, five days work.” Dean sighs. “Some fucking vacation.”
“Can’t be helped,” says Bobby. “I’ll help where I can. You can‘t spend the whole vacation fixing the car.”
“Yeah, it‘s not like the last time.” Dean takes a swig. “Did I tell you? Dan’s given me first refusal when he retires.”
“No, you didn’t,” grins Bobby, pleased. “When is he stepping down?
“Two years, he thinks.” Dean looks excited. “Shit, look at us. When the fuck did I ever want a normal life and here’s me planning to take over my boss’s auto shop. In two years. I’ve never planned more than two months ahead in my life.”
“Got college funds for the kids?”
Dean gives a sheepish grin. “Yeah. And it won’t be goin’ on ammo.”
“You’ll never get a bank loan,” continues Bobby. “How’re you planning on raising the cash?”
“We were talking about that just before Sam and Lily went off to Tehran,” Dean says as he watches Bobby’s face. “Seems to me there’s a need for guys like us, especially while shit’s happening. We were going to start a school or something. Hide it behind ghost tours and things that go bump in the night, nature hikes, that kind of thing. Do a few official, proper tours, but the teaching would be the main thing.”
“It’s a plan,” agrees Bobby, before nodding. “Might actually work. But it’s a lot of work when you’ve a young family. Even between the four of you.”
“We’ll manage,” says Dean, firmly.
“You know, Dean,” Bobby considers as he finishes his beer. “You just might at that.”
***
Dean and Bobby get up at the asscrack of dawn to work on the car. It’s better that way, doesn’t cut into their break and means that everyone fixing the car is over 18, particularly the welding that the fenders need.
Ricky’s bitterly disappointed when he sees the progress on the Impala, running out on the second day of the repairs just as Dean is finishing off and Bobby is attending to a customer.
“Daddy! You started without me!” Ricky says as his face crumples. He looks so utterly betrayed. It reminds Dean of when he was four and had just got his first bike. John had been holding him as he pedalled and then he’d looked back and John had let him go. He’d fallen straight away.
Dean had grazed his knee and John had fixed it with kisses, cookies and band-aids.
Then, he’d felt the way Ricky looked. Now, he feels like his father.
Dean strides over to the little boy, still clad in his pyjamas and clutching Betsy Bunny, his favourite toy. He sweeps him up into his arms, feeling the hot tears wet his shoulder. “Champ, I am going to need your help. When I change the tyres and re-spray the doors.” He pulls away slightly, so he can look Ricky in the eye. “But the fenders are bigger than you and I needed Bobby to help me with them.”
“I can help with the other stuff?” There’s a little sob in every second word.
“Sure,” says Dean. “I’ll need you when I do the tyres to make sure I don’t lose any tools or nuts and bolts.”
“Prom-mise?” Ricky says. “Cross your heart and hope to die?”
“Watch what you say, Ricky,” Dean says seriously. “You never know when it’ll actually come true.”
Ricky’s lip trembles again. “I don’t want you to die.”
“I’ll try very hard not to,” Dean assures the child with a rueful smile. “I’ll make pancakes for breakfast?”
“You don’t let me eat junk. With strawberry sauce?” Ricky looks hopeful.
“Just this once. And I think we can do strawberry sauce.”
They’ve come back into the kitchen by this point and Dean sets Ricky down on a chair as he gathers the ingredients he’ll need from the fridge, measures them out into the bowl quickly, all by eye.
“I think I’m going to need a hand mixing them,” he says, standing aside so that Ricky can drag his chair over to the counter. He stands up on it and Dean puts his hand over his and stirs the batter.
“Is it done, Daddy?” Asks Ricky.
“Yeah, I think so.” Dean’s already got a frying pan ready, as he and Ricky carefully drop some of the mixture into the pan. Carefully holding Ricky’s hands away from it, he reaches for a spatula, before wrapping his and Ricky’s hands around the handle.
“One,” counts Dean, with Ricky joining in on two and together they flip it on three.
Ricky giggles as father and son share a smile. “I’ll get plates, Daddy.”
Eating his pancakes keeps Ricky busy while Dean cooks some more for the two of them, though from the pile in front of them, two is plainly an elastic number for Dean.
“What do you want to do today?” He asks.
“I want to play softball in the park,” replies Ricky. “And I want Bobby to come.”
“I think Bobby might be busy, Champ,” Dean says as he squirts sauce on his pile of pancakes.
“I went with Bobby when we came and now I want Bobby to come with me,” says Ricky firmly. “I’m not argoo-ing.”
***
They compromise - Bobby will shut the yard at three and they’ll go to the park in Hardy. Faith wonders if she should make a picnic supper for them. Dean wonders how close the hospital is.
Faith wonders whether Dean will make the hospital before she kills him.
Bobby wonders if he should buy them all takeout.
***
Dean’s hardly parked the van, when Ricky has jumped out of his childseat and opened his door, running round the back in his haste to get to the back. “Hurry Daddy!”
“Where’s the fire?” Dean mutters as he walks to the back with his keys. “Let me get the stroller out. Wanna help push?”
“I want the bat and ball,” he says climbing in the trunk as Dean lifts out the stroller, putting it up one handed for Faith. He knocks something and the lid of the trunk falls down. “Daddy!” Wails Ricky. “The van’s trying to keep me!”
“Hasn’t done that for a few weeks,” says Faith, putting on the backpack that serves as the diaper bag. “Have you found the bat and ball?”
“I’ve got them, Momma,” says Ricky, climbing out the back passenger door. “Silly van forgot that I can climb over the seats.”
He’s got the bat in his arms and it’s bigger than he is. He takes Bobby and Dean’s hands and pulls them in the direction of the park. He spends a few minutes at the park gates, picking the perfect spot for playing ball, before tearing off to it, Dean easily jogging beside him. “Come on Bobby! Before the bigger than me kids steal it!”
“I’ll be there shortly, boy,” puffs Bobby. “The Good Lord didn’t see fit to make me run.”
By the time Bobby gets there, Ricky has worked out exactly where the bases will be, as he’s hauling Dean’s flannel shirt off his back for one base, the stroller with Joanna in it is another and his mother’s flip-flops are another. “Momma and Bobby can be one team and Daddy and me are the other team. And we’re batting first.”
Faith and Bobby stand for a moment, not even bothering to hide their amusement.
“On you go,” says Ricky, pointing towards the park. “Game won’t play itself.”
The opposing team take themselves off to their places and Ricky looks at his father. “You say it.”
“Play ball!”
Bobby throws the ball and Ricky hits it. He’s so surprised that he just stands there for a moment before Dean yells, “ Ricky! Move!”
Ricky bolts around, stopping for a moment to kiss Joanna, running to Faith’s flip-flops. Bobby’s got the ball and hides it behind his back.
Ricky stamps his feet. “Momma! Tell Bobby to stop letting me win!”
“Dean, just pick up the damn bat and then Bobby can pitch to you,” calls Faith.
Bobby pitches and Dean hits it easily, jogging to the base with his daughter, as Ricky runs back to the start. Dean takes Joey’s hands and makes her clap her brother. She laughs.
He doesn’t notice Bobby watching them.
It only lasts a minute as Bobby calls to Ricky and pitches. He doesn’t hit it this time, but according to the rules of their game, he can run.
“Dean, move your ass!”
They swap after ten runs, Faith zipping round about twenty times each time she bats. “Momma,” says Ricky. “Can’t you try to not hit the ball? You hit it so far!”
“I can’t help it,” protests Faith. “Slayer reflexes! Means I can catch you faster.”
“You can’t catch me,” says Ricky, cheekily and sticking his tongue out.
“OK, Cheeky, I’ll race you,” says Faith, with a you’re dead when I catch you face.
Ricky bolts. Faith counts ten then chases after him, catching him in seconds
Dean catches Bobby looking again, watching Faith walk back with Ricky over the shoulder where the bad boys go! “Two cents a smack!” She calls.
Ricky wriggles, kicking his little legs. “No Momma!”
“Hey, Bobby, you got two cents? Those guys over there look strong. Bet I‘ll make at least a dollar off them.” Faith starts walking in the direction of some basketball players.
“Daddy! Momma, I‘ll be good! I‘ll beenhave!” Ricky is struggling in earnest now. He doesn’t like the look of the basketball players.
“Think he means it, Bobby?” Dean says, playing along.
“I don’t know, but I’m all for giving people second chances.” Bobby looks like he’s considering. “Gonna behave now Richard?”
“U-huh! I’ll beenhave! Kiss kiss, Momma?” He pleads, hopefully.
“OK,” says Faith as she swings him round, into her arms. He cuddles into her. “Love you, Momma.”
“Play ball?” Asks Faith.
“Yay!”
***
Bobby treats them to dinner in a diner that halfway between Hardy and his place.
“Whatever you want,” he says as they go in. The waitresses take one look at Dean carrying Joanna and holding Ricky‘s hand and they’re either melting or rushing to prettify themselves.
“Oh, Christ, here we go again,” snorts Faith. She hands Ricky his new cars - another gift from Bobby - and he starts playing with then on the table, making little engine sounds as he sits between his parents. “Are they tossing coins?”
“Yeah, they are. Better that than Momma’s cooking,” grins Dean, ducking the menu that comes flying his way. He looks over his shoulder and winks at the giggle of waitresses.
“You want to sleep on the couch, Winchester?” Faith threatens, good-naturedly.
“I’ll do evil things to your body if you promise not to do evil things with mine,” Dean says, voice low and accent south. “Because, damn, woman, your cooking is evil. I’d rather face forty demons than your mac and cheese.”
“Not my fault I burn water,” retorts Faith. “Three numbers.”
“I’m going for four,” says Dean under his breath as…
“Ready to order, sugar?” Says Brandi. It looks like there’s been a fair amount of primping and preening going on back there. Brandi’s plump lips gleam with fresh gloss and her lacy black bra peaks over her tank top. It’s quite apparent as she leans over the table, giving Dean and Bobby the full benefit of her cleavage and a come-fuck-me smile.
Bobby chokes on his coffee. Faith just looks on, amused. Dean gives her a sexy, provocative smile. “Why, yes, sweetheart. Three steaks with mashed potato and the works, an OJ and can you do a half-portion for ma boy here?”
“Sure, hon. That be all I can get you?” The implication in her words is clear.
“I’ll let you know,” and he’s got the implication. Brandi shoots Faith a look as if to say I can take him, give him what you can’t. Dean watches her ass as she goes.
“Can’t take you anywhere,” says Faith when the waitress is gone. There’s no malice, she doesn’t need it.
“Is it always like this?” Asks Bobby.
“Pretty much,” says Faith. “I only threaten to kill them when I don’t have the kids with us.”
One of the older waitresses, Nora-Ann comes over with a refill for the coffees and some pie for Ricky. “I know he’s not had his dinner yet, but it’ll be a while and I thought he might be hungry. On the house. Can I get you anything for the baby?”
“You couldn’t warm her bottle up, Ma’am?” Asks Dean, reaching into the side pocket of the diaper bag and pulling out a bottle of milk.
“Sure I can!” Nora-Ann says warmly. She smiles at Joey, chewing on Dean’s pendant again and Ricky playing with his cars. “He’s your double. Reminds me of my grandson. He‘s four, five?”
“Four and a half,” replies Faith. She nudges Ricky, who gives her a smile to rival his father’s as he says, “Thanks for the pie.”
“Oh, don’t mention it. It’s lovely to see a family out together, all three generations. You’re Bobby from the Singer Junkyard, bout fifteen miles from here, right?” Nora-Ann turns a smile on Bobby.
“Yes, Ma’am,” replies Bobby, meekly. “We’ve just come from Hardy. Spent the day playing softball in the park.”
“Oh, that’s lovely. Say, why don’t I get you folks some pie as well? I don’t like hungry customers.” With that, she turns back to the counter.
“Hey, Bobby, I think she likes you,” grins Faith.
“Crap, girl,” Bobby says, going red. “I’m too old for that nonsense.”
“You should have a drink of water,” says Ricky. “Momma always gives me a drink of water when I go red.”
***
Brandi must have won the toss to bring the Winchesters their potatoes and steaks, balancing them expertly on her arm as she serves them. She fusses over the children, trying to make sure Dean sees how good she is with his children, talking to Ricky about his cars and cooing over Joanna.
Bobby doesn’t know where to look as she pulls the same tricks with the cleavage and the smiles. She makes sure she brushes Dean with her hips or her arms or her breast as she goes backwards and forwards between the counter and the table with stuff she’s forgotten. It’s starting to irritate Faith and make Dean uncomfortable.
She’s just done it for the third time and he’s about to ask for another waitress when Joanna suddenly decides that the white goo in front of her looks really interesting. Before he can stop her, she leans forward in Dean’s arms, slamming her hands down in it. She frowns a little at the sensation, lifting up her hands and staring at them covered in a sizeable dollop of potato. She turns them as Dean groans, “Joanna!” before she splats them right down on Brandi’s cleavage.
Brandi screams in horror and runs off behind the counter. Nora-Ann comes over with a cloth, an apology and a giggle. There’s a phone number on Bobby’s napkin and on Dean’s. He uses his to clean off one of Joanna’s hands while Nora-Ann does the other as she chats to Bobby.
When he goes to pay, she manages to get a date with him.
“Can’t take you anywhere,” smirks Dean.
***
“Bad night?” Bobby says at breakfast.
Dean looks shattered. “Yeah, looks like number two’s coming through and it’s a bitch. She screamed the whole damn night. Faith ended up putting Scotch on her gums. Ricky, where’re you going with that toast?”
Ricky stops with the plate he’s carrying. “It’s Momma’s breakfast.”
“Leave Momma alone. She’s sleeping.” Dean gives Joey her teething ring, which the grizzling baby begins gumming. He wipes tears from her bright red cheeks with his thumb. “Get the wheels and the respray done today.”
“Don’t start without me Daddy!” Says Ricky.
“Not starting anything without my assistant mechanic.” Dean stands up, yawns. “I’ll go get some clothes for you. Stay out here, I don’t want your Momma woken up. Keep an eye on your sister.”
Joey starts crying in earnest when Dean goes, reaching after him. Ricky plays where’s the baby? with her and after a minute she goes back to grizzling.
***
“OK, you slide the jack under the fender…here,” Dean says as father and son push a jack under the car. Joanna is a little way behind them in her travel crib with some toys and a large parasol over her. Dean glances at Ricky. “Payin’ attention, son?”
“U-huh, Daddy,” replies the boy. He’s looking at Dean like he’s importing wisdom form on high. “Cos it’s Very Important, right?”
“Right. Get me the lever,” he says as he holds out his hand for it. Dean looks over, Ricky’s staring at the tools laid out on the table behind Dean. Bobby‘s allowed them to take out one of the kitchen chairs for Ricky to stand on. “It’s the thing that’s all corners.”
“I got it,” he smiles as he picks it up and hands it to his father.
“Right, in it goes,” Dean says and tries to push it round, straining. “Dammit, it won’t go.”
“Need a hand, Daddy?” asks Ricky, putting his arm on Dean’s shoulder and leaning down to look at the tyre.
“I think I’m gonna,” agrees Dean. Ricky puts his hands over Dean’s. “Ready, Daddy?”
“Yeah.” Dean takes a deep breath and together they push and pull the lever.
“It’s doing it, Daddy!” Ricky exclaims, delighted.
“Sure is,” Dean grins as the car slowly rises up. “Think you can get me the tyre iron?”
“U-huh,” says Ricky. There’s a clang as Ricky drags it from the table and drops it, then drags it over to Dean. “It’s too heavy for me, Daddy.”
“’S’alright,” Dean says, ruffling Ricky’s hair. “Help me line this up.”
Father and son carefully line up the iron and turn it together, the muscles bunching in Dean’s back and arms as he does so. He has to strain a little as the bolts on the wheel are quite tight. “I’m pushing hard, Daddy, aren‘t I?”
“Yeah, you are son. Hey! It’s coming! Help me roll the wheel to the side and we‘ll get the other one.”
There’s a click and Dean turns round. It’s just Bobby with a camera as he takes a picture of them. “I’ll get them developed and send a copy on to you.”
Dean smiles, picks up Ricky. “Take another.”
“Cheese and chocolate chip cookies!” Sings Ricky as Bobby snaps away.
“OK, one with your sis…Oh, shit…” Joey’s pulled Dean’s rag for wiping his hands out of his back pocket and she’s covered in oil.
“Momma’s gonna kill us,” giggles Ricky.
Dean hugs him close. “Momma’s gonna kill us.”
“Why’s Momma gonna,” comes Faith’s voice, still sleepy. “Jesus Fuck! Damn straight, Momma’s gonna kill you!”
***
Faith rants for a quarter of an hour over the state of her daughter, while Dean and Bobby finish changing the wheels out. Dean’s doing his best to pacify her before she grabs Joey, who was sitting there as happy as a sandboy with her dirty rag, and marches into the house with her. She’s snarling something about getting that shit off my baby!
“Damn, your woman can rage,” says Bobby.
“That was nothing. When she blows, she blows and you get the fuck out of the way,” Dean’s grinning. “Wouldn’t have her any other way.”
“You gonna go after her?” Asks Bobby.
“I’ll let her calm down. I like walking,” Dean says as he rubs his hands on the offending rag. “I can do the re-spray tomorrow. Ricky!”
Ricky’s sitting on the chair, playing with the pliers - they’re birds and they’re catching worms.
“Wanna help me drive the car? Need to test out those wheels.”
“OK.” Ricky skips happily over to his father. Dean unlocks the door and Ricky climbs in, settling on Dean’s knee. “Ready, Daddy.”
“OK,” says Dean as he starts the car and drives off slowly around the junkyard. He’s got his hands next to Ricky’s on the wheel. “Where shall we go?”
“Ummm…I want to go to see Misery and she can read my fortune. And give me cookies.” Ricky thinks for a moment.
“So you want cookies?”
“U-huh,” says Ricky, all decided. They drive for a moment. “Daddy! Look out! Ghostie!”
“Bang! I shot it!” Dean pretends to shoot a gun out the window.
“Keep driving Daddy. I want my cookies.” Ricky smiles up at his father. “Daddy! A vampire! I‘ll bedead it!”
He mimes the swing of a machete. “It was that kind of vampire.”
“Tell me how to kill other vampires.” Dean says as he tests out the lights.
“Fire, sunlight, wood through the heart, but bedeading them works on all the vampires. Momma told me.”
“You listen to your Momma. I don‘t like the sound of that blinker.”
“If Momma’s a vampire slayer, are you a demon hunter?” Asks Ricky.
“Sort of, but not like your Momma or the other Slayers. She’s special.”
“But Momma loves you. Does that mean you’re special?”
Dean smiles. “Momma thinks so. But she’s biased.”
“Am I special?”
“Definitely.” Dean kisses the top of his head.
“How old where you when you learned to drive?”
“Bout your age in this car, on my Daddy’s knee.” It’s not a sad memory for Dean.
“Grandad John?” Ricky honks the horn.
“Yeah, Grandad John. He’d have loved you.” Dean’s voice trails off for a moment as he wonders what life would have been like had his father had survived. “He’d have seen you, your sister and your cousin as his second chances and he’d have done all the stuff he should have done with us.”
“But you do stuff with me,” replies Ricky, confused.
“It’s hard to explain. Things were different when I was little.”
“I don’t think you were ever little,” says Ricky, not convinced. “Did Grandad John ever see me?”
“Once. Before Momma fell out with me. You were only a few months old.” Dean turns the car back round for home.
“I’m glad you and Momma aren’t all falled out any more.”
“You and me both.” Dean’s glad the child’s looking out the window and can’t see the tears running down his face. “Now. Let’s see if Momma’s got room for one more in the pot.”
***
“Right, we got everything? Ricky, you got Betsy Bunny?” Faith’s running through a final check. “Joey got Mumbles?”
“Yes, Momma,” says Ricky. “Tell Daddy to hurry up. What‘s he saying to Bobby?”
Dean’s standing next to Bobby’s pick-up, idly patting the dog, as Faith eavesdrops. Bobby comes out with a brown paper bag. “There’s sandwiches in this one and a little somethin’ else.”
Dean looks in the bag and then back to Bobby, shocked. “Jesus, Bobby! How much is there?”
“It’s not all mine. Some of it is John’s. He left rainy day money with me, never came back for it when we fell out. I made up the rest. It‘ll pay for the auto shop.”
“Bobby, I can’t take this!” Dean protests.
“Yes, you can, son.” Bobby takes a deep breath. “I was never blessed with a family. Cancer saw to that and I’ll never have grandkids. But you and Sam, you’re the closest thing I’ve got to family. Ricky, Joanna and Jessica? They’re my grandkids, way I see it. I’m never going to use that money, Dean and you need it.”
“OK, Bobby,” says Dean, quietly.
“You hearing what I say, boy?”
“Yeah, I do.”
“You should still do that training thing. It’s a good idea.” Bobby says gruffly. “And don’t you even think of paying me back.”
He holds out his hand to Dean. The younger man pauses for moment, before shaking it. “I’ll see you soon, Bobby.”
“Drive safe, say hi to Sam for me.” Bobby slaps Dean’s shoulder.
“Alright, I will. You have fun with Nora-Ann now. Remember, if you can’t be good, be careful.” Dean grins as he turns to get in the Impala.
“Git!” Bobby laughs.
“You hear that?” Asks Dean when he gets in the car.
Faith nods. “We’re lucky.”
“Yeah, we are.” Dean sighs, glancing back to their children. “Thank you.”
Faith leans across and kisses him. “Shut up and drive.”
