A/N: written for the drabble challenge at SPNLAND LJ. The prompt was LUCK.
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, I just borrow them.
"Well that was lucky." Bobby Singer thought as he kicked the dead shapeshifter to the side. Except he knew it wasn't. It wasn't lucky that the shapeshifter had slipped in puddle allowing him to get a good stab in. Bobby Singer didn't believe in luck he'd learned that much from his experience as a hunter. He pulled the silver knife from the shifter's body and wiped the blade on his handkerchief.
It hadn't been luck that had gotten that demon down in Amarillo. That had been quick thinking and a vile of holy water. The vampire nest in Chicago, he'd barely made it out that one alive. Luck certainly hadn't played a part there. If anything it had proved that the only kind of luck a man could count on was of the bad variety. The only thing a hunter could count on was himself. The shifter had been good, but he'd been better.
Bobby bent down to pick up the worn trucker hat that had been knocked off his head during the struggle and placed it on his head. In the end, it wasn't luck that was going to save your ass. No. Bobby Singer didn't believe in luck.