A light and fluffy future flick to end all the angsting I have been doing recently!!
Early morning in Kindergarten and Mrs Williams is sitting down to read her small charges their daily story. All is quiet and peaceful and twenty little faces turn up to hers, eyes wide and expectant.
Suddenly, the roar of a car engine broke the silence and Mrs Williams had to pause, staring out of the window, her mouth opening on a silent 'O'.
The car was magnificent, big and black, an old muscle car in tip-top condition, shining in the early morning sunlight. It screeched to a halt outside the schoolroom, kicking up dust and all twenty of Mrs William's charges turned their faces to the window, pressing up against the glass, eyes wide with wonder.
Mrs Williams sighed and shrugged to her young assistant. In twenty years of teaching she had seen a lot of things, but never anything like this. She stared at the car herself, thinking how much her husband would like it, how impressed her twenty year old son would be.
The driver's door opened first and a young man stepped out. He was tall and broad, shoulders wide inside a brown leather jacket. His hair was blond and it caught the sun as he moved, limping slightly, to the back door, opening it and reaching inside.
As the passenger door squeaked, Mrs Williams heard one of her children squeal in delight, the words 'It's a real giant, Miss,' tumbling out of her mouth.
Mrs Williams pursed her lips and then unpursed them again, as she realised that the child was right.
The second young man was inches taller than the first and had to bend double to get out of the car. He had long shaggy hair, even wider shoulders and baggy jeans that covered his feet. Big hands clutched something, awkwardly, and Mrs Williams realised that it was a 'Sponge Bob Square Pants' duffle bag and it looked tiny in those giant fingers.
Mrs Williams was aware that her young assistant's face was pressed as close to the window as the children's were, her expression one of silent rapture.
Mrs Williams tutted but found herself watching as the first man pulled a small child, none too gently, from the back of the car. The child was taller than average, chestnut hair shaggy and untidy, his face smeared with something that looked, suspiciously, like jam.
"Ah," Mrs Williams tapped her fingers on her desk and opened up the register, realising, suddenly, that she had been expecting a new child and said new child was now on his way in, feet dragging reluctantly on the tarmac.
"Erm, hello," the taller man entered first, duffle bag still clutched in too large hands, neck a little red under the shaggy hair, "I'm sorry we are a little late – but – um – we had something to see to."
"Indeed," Mrs Williams attempted official, her heart a little fluttery, losing her calm as she stared into tip-tilted hazel eyes, her gaze fixed on deepening dimples, "am I right to assume that this little boy here is John Winchester?"
"Yeah," the second man, green eyes cocky and charming, shot a grin at Mrs Williams assistant, causing the poor girl to blush deep red, an undignified squeak leaving her lips, "this is John," he gave the boy a push and he moved forward reluctantly, his little face sullen.
"We were just about to have story time," Mrs Williams said, softly, addressing the boy, "are you going to join us?"
"Story time sucks ass," came the reply, the little boy slouching down, his lip curled upwards, mimicking the man beside him.
"Um – I'm sorry," the second man flushed deeper, neck going redder, his own lips pursing as he glanced at the boy, "my brother," he glared at the man in the leather jacket, "has taught John some pretty bad things."
"Boy's gotta learn to be a man, Sammy," the other man said, with a smirk, "and let's face it, story time does, indeed, suck…"
"Dean," the shaggy-haired man, Sammy, shrugged apologetically and smiled again at Mrs Williams, exercising considerable charm.
"Sorry," Dean muttered and rubbed the back of his neck. Mrs Williams held back an amused grin and shook her head.
"Don't worry about it, Mr – Winchester is it?"
"Yeah, Sam – Sam Winchester – I'm John's father and – this is Dean, my brother."
"Uncle Dean," John grinned and high-fived his uncle enthusiastically, "Zeppelin rules!" he added.
"Totally," Dean agreed, smirking at Mrs Williams again.
Mrs Williams watched as Sam Winchester rolled his eyes, feeling a stab of sympathy for him, wondering what it must be like to try and control his two 'boys'.
"And Mrs Winchester?"
"There isn't a Mrs Winchester," it was Dean who spoke, eyes suddenly guarded, moving towards his brother and nephew protectively, making both Mrs Williams and her assistant step back a little, their little charges watching open mouthed, all agreeing that this was much better than story time. "You don't have to know it all, lady, but we do a good enough job – me and Sammy and all we want is for John to have good schooling, a permanent home and two parents who love him – and he has all that."
"I'm sure he has Mr Winchester," Mrs Williams was suddenly aware of time passing. She smiled at Sam, at Dean and then, finally, at John, "well now, we appear to have missed story time, so how about we all go and have a run around in the playground and have some milk and cookies."
John's sullen expression lightened a little and he looked, suddenly, small and vulnerable, his bright hazel eyes on her face, full of longing.
"I like cookies," he said, "can my dad and uncle Dean stay?"
"Hey man, we'd love to chow down on some cookies with you, but me and your dad, we have work to do, you understand kid?"
John nodded, eyes solemn.
"We'll be back," Sam smiled and gave his son an impromptu hug, causing the boy to wince and hold up a tiny hand.
"No chick flick moments, dad."
Mrs Williams couldn't hold back a grin this time as Sam rolled his eyes again, his face lightening considerably.
"We'll pick him up this afternoon," he said to Mrs Williams, shaking his head, "good luck."
Mrs Williams took John's hand, briefly, and led him into the classroom, his new classmates already watching him with worshiping eyes.
Good luck, she mused, watching as the two brothers bickered their way back to the awesome muscle car, nudging each others shoulders and trying to kick each others feet away.
With these three – she was going to need it.
End