A/N: Just a little oneshot which I'm posting for the heck of it. Just felt like posting something small, lighthearted and partially experimental to get things off my head. Bleh. If you read, then a review would be amazing. But I'm not really expecting anything, so I guess we'll see. :D
THE HITCHHIKER
It had to have been around 4 o'clock when he first spotted her.
Not that time really mattered, anyway. Minutes melded into hours, hours into days. All that was noted was whether it was daylight or not. That was just how perfunctory these road trips had become to him. It didn't really matter how many hours had passed, because with this knowledge came the impatience.
Only five hours to go.
Four and a half.
Four.
Constantly waiting until the arrival at their destination. This was ultimately the reason he assured himself of the same thing at the beginning of every trip.
Time doesn't matter.
Despite this, he still caught himself glancing at the digital clock on the car's dashboard the moment after the figure had entered his vision.
She looked to be reasonably tall. Next to him, perhaps not so much. She was of a slender build, too; a curvaceous physique was evident, though masked at first by the torn, baggy clothing that clung to her entire frame. A large backpack rested upon her shoulders, though it looked to be virtually empty from what he could make out.
She was facing away from them. Walking a casual stroll in the exact direction they were headed, trailing dangerously close alongside the road. He noticed the long tress of dark hair creeping down her neckline only to disappear beneath the collar of her worn, grey jacket. At least, it looked to be grey. He couldn't tell whether the colour has been attained through hard hours in the sun, or whether it was intentional.
On first glance, everything about the figure screamed worn, weathered. He would have argued for the word mysterious, even. This description, coupled with an overwhelming question bugging at the back of his mind. What is she doing here? It was the middle of nowhere, after all. Would it be reckless of them to stop? To help her?
It wasn't until the car had crept to a distance of merely forty metres from her that Sam discovered the reason she was holding her arm up in the air. He could just see her slim thumb held upright, waving through the space above her as though signalling to someone, something overhead.
As the car approached her from behind, her head flipped backward to face them, a curt glance over her shoulder before she ceased immediately. She spun around on one foot, facing the car for a paused second only to rush onto the centre of the road the next, her hands held out before her and waving around hysterically in front of her.
"Dean, stop!" Sam yelled, a frantic voicing that broke his brother's calm the moment the shrill words hit the crisp air.
Dean slammed his foot down on the break pedal immediately, heart racing, eyes widened; an exact equivalent of the expression upon his brother's face in the instant before the car reached a terse halt.
Sam watched as the woman directly before the car rested her hands down upon the hood in front of them. As she lifted her gaze to meet his, she smirked placidly before tugging her eyes away.
"Are you insane?" Dean chided, the words leaving his mouth before he'd even rolled his window the entire way down. The woman merely shrugged, strolling around the front of the car to driver's side.
"Got any room for a poor ol' hiker?" She asked, bending down to his level in front of the window, flashing Dean a charming smile. Her words were enhanced in a thick British accent that was unmistakeable, though less of a focal point against the smooth tranquillity of her voice.
Dean, though struggling, managed to pull his gaze away from the enticing brunette woman at his window to glance at his brother in the passenger seat. "Sam?" He queried, the name escaping his lips as what could easily be mistaken as a squeaky intake of breath.
Sam nodded hesitantly, watching the woman. It was safe enough to say that she didn't look to be a threat at all. Just a tourist. A passer-through.
"Hop in," Sam said, accompanied with a weary smile directed toward his brother in the seat beside him.
"Are you insane?" Dean whispered, as the woman backed away from the driver's side. Sam watched from over his shoulder as she tugged open the back door, slinging her backpack from her shoulders and sliding it into the car before hopping in herself.
"Come on, Dean," Sam murmured hopefully, assuring that the words didn't escape past his brother's hearing. "This'll be good."
Though he failed to admit it to his brother at the time, Sam had been craving the company of another being for days now.
"I'm Dean," Dean began, twisting around in the driver's seat to cast a smirk toward the young woman. "That's Sam," he said, nodding toward his brother, who offered merely a half smile in response.
Her lips twisted into a deep half smile, liquid brown eyes brightening as she nodded. "Angie," she informed them both, raising a curved brow only for it to retreat behind the layer of thick brown bangs that hid her forehead.
Dean restarted the car with a twist of the keys in the ignition, the engine stirring to life less than a second later. He cast a short glance in the rear view mirror above his head at the stranger in the backseat before pressing down the clutch, followed by a steady blow of acceleration, allowing the car to startle forward immediately.
"Where are you headed?" Sam asked, glancing over his shoulder once more at the woman seated comfortably in the backseat of his brother's car.
Angie smirked, a gesture he'd seen so frequently within the mere minutes of knowing her that it seemed to him to be almost routine. "Thought you'd never ask," she said, words laced with a wide grin. "Indiana."
"Just your luck. We'll be passing through by tomorrow morning," Dean grinned.
"Well aren't I lucky I found you, then?" She replied, and to these words Sam smiled faintly.
He could tell this trip was going to be a hell of a lot more interesting from here on out. This knowledge, he did not attempt to rid in the slightest.