A/N: Watch out, I'm changing their species again!

A Bird in the Hand

It was weird, really, looking at him. It was weird how much he still seemed like Dean, despite the fact that he was now a bird. A bird that was perched quite happily on the bar, though that would have to change when it got busier. Ellen knew they had a stuffed owl somewhere, they could use that perch.

Just two hours earlier, it would have seemed completely mind-boggling to Ellen that she'd have to consider what Dean Winchester was going to use as a perch. But then Sam had wandered in all cheerful and asking, perhaps, if she didn't mind setting him up with a bed for a few nights? Of course, Ellen had asked what about Dean and Dean had chosen that moment to come in – swoop in, even – landing perfectly on Sam's shoulder and Sam had tilted his head towards the bird, saying that Dean wasn't really in much need of a bed at the moment.

Ellen hadn't got it. She'd demanded clarification and said that she wasn't in the habit of letting birds inside the bar. Dean hadn't taken very kindly to that, his screeching had only ended when he realised his talons were digging into Sam's shoulder. Then he'd flown over to the bar and had been sat there ever since, watching Sam unload their car and keeping an eye on everyone.

Finally, Sam had stopped for a rest, but mostly for a beer, asking for a saucer of water for Dean. A saucer of water for Dean Winchester. Sometimes, in this life, you just had to go with the flow, try not to question anything too much. Which isn't to say she hadn't questioned. She'd asked Sam all the obvious questions. It was a curse and they were getting the cure made up for them, but it would take a week and it was a pretty damn expensive cure (Dean's screech gave Ellen the feeling she should be telling him to watch his mouth) so they needed some free lodging, which Ellen was only too happy to give.

Now, Sam was out back getting some fresh air, getting away from everyone for a bit, leaving Ellen to entertain Dean, which felt more than awkward.

"So, how's being a bird treating you?" Dean's head swivelled until he was fixing her with one yellow eye, his back to her still. Eventually he turned the rest of his body to face her and just carried on staring. Ellen reached forward slowly and ran the back of one finger down his front. Dean didn't move. At all. "Could've been worse, coulda been a sparrow," she said because it sounded better than Dean's silence. Dean opened his beak, then closed it again. Still staring. Ellen moved away and began stacking clean glasses behind the bar, ready for another busy night, Dean's eyes following her every movement. Every time Ellen looked over Dean was still staring back. "Goddammit, Dean, look somewhere else!" Dean let out a short screech, ruffled his feathers and turned back to watching the rest of the room. There wasn't really much to watch (Ash asleep on the pool table was hardly great entertainment) so Dean was back to monitoring Ellen's movements before long, though without the same intensity as before, Ellen was pleased to note.

Another half hour passed and Ellen had no idea what Dean was doing to keep himself occupied because preening couldn't be all that interesting and Ellen herself was pretty bored. Dean starting making a noise different to the once he'd made before. It could only be described as cheeping. Ellen went over to him and leaned her elbows on the bar just in front of where Dean was standing. "What's up with you now?" She reached forward with her hand again, but instead of ignoring her like he had last time, Dean caught her finger in his beak and nibbled lightly on it.

The front door opened and Sam stuck his head in.

"He should be getting hungry about now," he said. Dean screeched in reply, completely abandoning Ellen's finger to fly out the door, just barely missing Sam's head.

"You got enough food for him?" Ellen asked. Sam nodded.

"He's pretty easy to feed, just some meat. He could catch his own if he tried," Sam muttered the last part darkly, though still with fondness. He ducked back out of the door and Ellen was left to finish her chores in peace.

That didn't last long. Jo suddenly appeared through the front door, all thoughts of her chores had obviously gone completely out the window.

"Mom, you gotta see what Dean can do!" she said, practically bouncing in a way she hadn't since she hit her teens. Ellen smiled at her.

"Just let me finish up here."

"Mom!" Jo whined, yes it was definitely a whine, "Come on!" Ellen relented and put away the last bottle of Jack before following Jo outside and round the back to where Sam was standing.

"So, where's Dean?" Sam looked up. Ellen followed his gaze upwards but didn't see anything. She looked back down at Sam.

"He's up there, straight above your head, look harder," said Sam. Ellen looked up again and looked harder, there was a small black dot in an otherwise grey and dull sky.

"That's Dean?"

"Yeah," said Sam, he then raised his arm up.

"Watch this, Mom, it's awesome," said Jo. Sam waved his hand slightly and when Ellen looked back up at the dot that was Dean, she could already tell it was slightly bigger. She watched as the dot became bird-shaped and then she could see what Dean was doing; he had his wings tucked in and was dropping like a stone to the ground, head first. Was that meant to happen? Ellen glanced at Sam but he didn't seem worried at all.

Dean was getting close to the ground now, he had to be thinking about pulling up sometime soon or else he'd be a mess of bones and bird feathers in Ellen's back yard. He was going pretty damn fast. Ellen opened her mouth to say something when, just at the last second, Dean opened his wings and pulled out of the dive a bare foot from the ground. He then used his momentum to gain some height and swoop just near enough to Ellen's head that she felt she had to duck. He screeched as Sam laughed and threw some meat up into the air that Dean turned and grabbed and landed with a few feet away from them. He bent over his prize, wings shielding it from view, and began eating, still looking around between bites.

"What was that?" said Ellen.

"It's called a stoop, it's how peregrine falcons," Sam pointedly raised his voice, "Catch their prey." He received a muffled screech in reply.

"Dean's the fastest animal in the world," added Jo, "He just went two-hundred miles an hour." Ellen smiled to see Jo so excited about something that wasn't hunting and it was only understandable. This was the first time Jo had come across people changing species and it was a hell of a lot better than the first time Ellen had come across it.

"He do that all the time?" Ellen asked.

"Oh no, just when he's showing off." Sam was now the recipient of Dean's hard stare. "Oh, come on, you're not fooling anyone, you're showing off." Dean took to the air (his food apparently already finished off) and landed on Sam's head. Sam's only response was to roll his eyes and then walk calmly back inside, Dean's body moving with Sam's every step, but his head held perfectly still. Ellen and Jo followed.

"He house trained?" asked Ellen as soon as she remembered exactly why it was she wasn't in the habit of letting birds inside. Dean made a small noise that Ellen didn't catch the meaning of, but Sam laughed and assured her that if Dean made a mess, she was perfectly entitled to put him in a cage. Dean ruffled his feathers and, from the look on Sam's face, probably tightened his talons around Sam's scalp (he hadn't yet seen fit to come down from there) but made no overt gestures of disagreement. That was good enough for Ellen and she left the bar to let Sam, Jo and Dean continue their conversation, as much as Dean could have a conversation. He was quite good at it considering he couldn't actually talk.

Ellen spent the rest of the afternoon doing those small tasks that don't require any real thought but are annoyingly time consuming and necessary to the upkeep of the Roadhouse. As well as finding Dean that perch.

By six in the evening, the first few hunters began to appear, keeping themselves to themselves mostly, and not batting an eyelid at the man at the bar with a falcon on his shoulder (yeah, after all that effort spent prying the dead owl off the perch, Dean decided to use his brother for most of the evening). That was, until a couple of boys came in, young hunters who'd lasted long enough to get cocky, and started hassling Dean, throwing peanuts at him and the like. Sam managed to catch Dean just before he took off and either got himself hurt or permanently blinded someone. The boys still didn't get the hint and just as Ellen was about to step in, Sam suggested they took it outside. Ellen didn't know what could possibly be done outside that was to his advantage but Dean seemed to know and he calmed down. Ellen decided it was none of her business.

After about twenty minutes the two boys returned looking suitably beaten down, without a scratch on them and went to sit quietly in the corner, keeping to themselves like everyone with any sense did in a place like this. Ellen smiled and waited for Sam to come back in but when, after half an hour, there was still no sign of him, she sent Jo out to check where he and Dean were. Not that it really mattered to her where they were, they were grown men quite capable of looking after themselves, well, one of them was a grown man, the other a grown bird, but both were still quite capable of looking after themselves. Still, Ellen felt attached to them and people she felt attached to, she worried about.

Jo returned pretty quickly, saying that it had gotten too smoky for Dean inside so they'd stayed out and now they had some bets going on how fast Dean could really go. Apparently they were doing pretty well out of it, especially as it was getting dark and hard to tell if Dean actually had made around the tree and back in twenty seconds or if he'd cut the corner.

Soon people began leaving the warmth to go see what the fuss was all about and the few that didn't know a hustle when they saw one put their money down too. Or that was what was going on as far as Ellen could tell, stuck behind the bar as she was. Ash wasn't much use for gathering intelligence, he was too busy enjoying the beers that were left unattended.

At almost half past ten, when Ellen had been wondering for a good hour exactly who was stupid enough to keep placing bets when it was this dark, Sam came back inside with Dean on his arm. He picked up Dean's perch and rested against the bar for a moment or two.

"We're going to turn in, it's way past Dean's bed time." Ellen could see the warning squeeze Dean gave Sam's arm.

"All right then, sleep well," said Ellen and then added, "Don't forget to put down some newspaper." Sam waved the hand with the perch in to show that he'd heard before he disappeared from view.

Ellen didn't see them again until she went to bed herself and decided to check on them (to make sure that all was well with them and that the curse hadn't thrown them a curve ball in their sleep). She cracked the door open just enough to see the lump of Sam under the covers by the light from the hallway. She opened it a little further to see Dean on the perch on the bedside table just untucking his head from under his wing to stare at Ellen.

"Just seeing how you were," Ellen whispered before closing the door again and making her way to bed.

Next morning Sam emerged bright and early, bag packed and ready to go. Dean was absent all through breakfast (Ash was too, but that was usual) and it was Jo who finally asked where he was.

"I told him to catch his own breakfast this morning," replied Sam, looking pleased with himself and tucking into his own breakfast with relish. "I got tired of him being so lazy." As though he knew he was being talked about, Dean appeared with a clatter on the windowsill, mouse clutched tightly in a talon. "See? I knew you could do it!" called Sam. Dean pecked impatiently on the glass.

"No way, you're not bringing that in here," said Ellen. She might not have been completely up to date on all food safety standards, but she knew a health hazard when she saw one. Dean stared for a little longer before he began eating the mouse sitting there on the windowsill, positively sulky. Everyone did a very good job of ignoring him, they only cracked the barest smiles when Dean tried to get the whole body down in one go and ended up choking on it.

"You sure you don't want to stay another night?" asked Ellen when breakfast was over.

"No, we earned enough money last night to keep us going until Dean gets changed back, but thanks for the offer." Sam went to get his bag and packed it away but paused before getting into the car himself, Ellen and Jo waited just outside the open door of the Roadhouse. "Tell Ash we said goodbye."

"Will do," said Ellen.

"Dean! You ready?" Sam called into the air and was answered by a screech from somewhere on the roof of the Roadhouse. He smiled at Ellen and Jo again before finally climbing into the car and driving off, trailed by his brother the peregrine falcon, who was slowly making his way up to becoming a black dot in the sky.

The End.

Hope you enjoyed!