I stared at the open fridge, my eyes skimming over the containers with only slight slight interest as I checked to make sure I didn't forget any labels.
Chuck knows the guys would mess up the system and drive me insane unless I specified which container was for which meal of which day. Satisfied, I shut the fridge before leaning onto the table top.
To be honest, I had put off the idea of meal prepping for a while. I was afraid that if I started it up the boys would expect me to dit it all the time. Not that I wouldn't, however it the mere thought of having them dependant on me not only made me more than a little nervous but also pissed me off more than I'd ever admit.
Which is why I subjected myself to the crap Sam and Dean managed to stock the bunker with for months. How Sam lives off of Icelandic salads and eggs I'll never know.
And the stuff Dean gets when one of us convince him to get off his butt and actually go to the grocery is beyond me.
After a cycle of protein bars and greasy sloppy joes this week though, I finally craved to the objection of my bowels and pushed away my irrational fear of commitment.
I quickly abandoned any notion of cooking for myself alone. The guilt and realization that they'd end up stealing most of the food anyways settled that question. Besides, they did feed me. I just didn't like it.
So, I put my "mature woman" pants on, coming up with the perfect 6 day meal plan for the next month or at least until everyone gets bored of the repetition.
Reaching over the counter, I snatched my phone up, glancing at the time. It was only seven. Plenty of time to call them up for a late dinner before finished Geek Love. The book was definitely creepy but the characters as well as the storyline and almost passive narrator made up for whatever societically infringed guilt I had under my nails.
Deciding to leave the chicken in the oven for now, I placed the china containing the mashed potatoes, veggies, and rice on the other table. Hurrying, I grabbed three plates with a handful of forks (naturally to lazy to count) before walking in the direction of the library.
Well, I half-walked have skipped while making silly faces. For a hunter, or rather for a sane… for a someone, I'm sorta eccentric. Like hang out in a tree while pretending to be Batwoman with a mohawk eccentric. Somehow, I don't see that ending well with the guys so I try to keep it underwraps when they, or Cas, could possibly see it.
I've only known them for a year or so now, though I've been living in the bunker for three months. We're definitely close, but still I'd prefer not to scare them of with an undoctored version of myself.
More alarmingly, the three of them already think I'm more than a little weird. Which so wasn't helped by the conversation I had with myself a week after I first moved in about the ethical responsibilities we have to ensure the security of people in danger zones. I'm not psycho, I just think out loud.
So people think I'm wishy-washy— which I am, but I'm also dependable to a fault after commiting to something. And my morals are unbreakable unless I'm convinced of a better theory.
It'd probably be better if my mind didn't start focusing on cat-lady Crowley whenever the King of Hell came up too, but meh.
Sam was hunched over his laptop, a typical scene now that he was free from whatever email Dean opened. His eyebrows were pinched in concentration before they relaxed. Happy with the results of his research he cast me a smile.
"Working hard," I said, eyes sliding over to Dean whose eyes were fixated on the bookshelf across from him. Green irises snapped over to my form. "Thanks for joining us," Dean drawled out.
"Sammy and I found some information on those witches," his face constricted with disgust, "from a while back. 'Parently they're dealing with some pretty heavy magic so we're gonna check it out before hitting the road tomorrow."
I stared at him. "Tomorrow?"
"Yeah, is that a problem?"
"I told you that tomorrow I have to do my hair." My hand went up to the scarf that was currently hiding the messy braids in point. I had already told the boys two weeks before about this, and that conversation had already been awkward as gopher but I really needed the day to take out these braids.
It's hard enough traveling with male hunters who seemed to ignore the bare necessities of life ha, The Jungle Book but read: pills, clothes, pads, toothpaste, oxygen… so until now I decided to keep my hair in braids or twists. Now, my hair's definitely grown since then, but I think it's way past due that I finally let my roots breathe. Hell, I don't even think any the boy have seen my natural hair.
Yeah, yeah, you need a little time to curl your locks, so does Sam." The man in question shot Dean one of his bitch faces. "We'll leave at eleven."
"You'll leave at eleven. It's takes the whole day." Ugh, why do I even need to explain this? I mentioned the entire day the first time, and I don't want Dean's smartass comments right now. So awkward, I wish I had an empty crate of tomatoes. And that I made the right choice three years ago, and became a hippy hippo with dreads. Life is hard. I wanna run away. Oh, Dean's face. Sam's face. Let's go feet. Move. Traitors.
Now they looked shocked.
"A day?" Sam asked, eyebrows raised. Mother don't judge.\
"At the least." I confirmed. Dean scoffed. My eyes narrowed instantly. "Just go without me." I folded my arms over my chest in attempt to fake the confident that slapped me in the face before it ran out on my fifth birthday.
"I never pegged you for one of those girls." Dean said. "Your really going to leave us for a spa day?" Listen Rapunzel, refer to me as a common pleb again and I'll deck you.
"Newsflash, I need time to actually," I sighed. "Have you ever seen me without my braids? I mean come on. I'd like my hair to in its regular state for once and I'm not rushing so go without me and indulge in your deep seeded hatred for witches or whatever. You'll do fine without me."
Sam, forever the peacemaker interjected. "We don't have to leave tomorrow Dean. I mean the case is only four hours away. We can put it up for a day."
"Whatever," rolling her eyes the glorified Rapunzel stood up. I resisted the urge to punch the wall. A proud moment I assume.
"Dinner time," I called, walking out of the room. I managed to get there before the boys- by jogging but let's omit that.
Pulling out the chicken and placing it onto the table, I sat down not even waiting for them before digging into the meal. I bet if I bunked with a damn… woulda understood the needs of a black girl with 4c hair… I am not crazy.
"Woah." Dean's voice travelled down to my ears. Without sparring them a glance, I motion for the two to take their seats at the table. If I just cooked, they're eating.
The two of them grabbed a chair on either side of me, quickly helping themselves to their portion as you ate in a comfortable silence sans the scrapping of utensils on plates and a few slurps of water.
When I went to grab the plates, Sam surprisingly stopped me, grabbing them himself. "You cooked, I've got the dishes." As he heads over to the sink, Dean laid back in his chair, the usual tension gone from his shoulders.
"Ah… why the hell did you hold out on us like this? That was better than that meal I had when we went to gank that nest of tropical vampires."
I rolled my eyes. "How is Florida a tropical location?" Sam asked as he rolled his sleeves. Flannel. Of course flannel. It's like I'm the only one with any diversity in my closet. Patterns, handmade vendor items, fuzzy socks, even cheetah prints.
I find myself with a palm to my mouth as a yawn escapes. "Well, I've been called to ground control on channel 87 so I'm gonna jump ship on this one like the dinosaurs on the planet Mars." I don't even. What the fuck am I saying?
Dean and Sam look at me. I smiled before awkwardly sliding out of the chair, nearly falling over in the process. Partly due to embarassment I slap Dean over the head before walking back to my room— not forgetting to thank Sam on the way out. I was raised with manners thank you. We both choose to ignore Dean's babyish cry of indignation.
Plopping on my bed, I drag the covers over my body before closing eyes. The land of purple elephants awaits. I wonder if Cas like elephant elements. Wait a sec, did I just invite him to my dream? Oh well, he's a cinnamon roll anyways. Cinnamon rolls need fun dreams. Happy dreams. Joyous dreams. Oh this is gonna be a long night…
For a first fic, I think this is turning out alright. Don't be afraid to review with any comments or questions. Yes this will be a two part story- I already have the second part in the works. Oh, and if you find out any grammatical errors please tell me. I promise I won't get all wound up over it. Thanks for reading, and come back in a week or so for the second part!