Category: Twilight / Supernatural crossover
Summary: Sam and Dean take their new apprentice to meet their mentor, Bobby Singer, and things get a little out of hand. Episode 2, sequel to Stick Her with a Fork. Written for the 2017 Fandoms for Hope and Relief
Title: Daggers, and Tacos, and Vampires, Oh My!
Author: GeezerWench
Characters / Pairing: Dean/Bella, Sam, Bobby Singer
Genre: adventure, supernatural, action, romance
Rating: M (language, violence, character death – not a main character)
Beta/Pre-Reader: Bonzie
Banner by: GeezerWench
Words: total 3925
Prompt/inspiration:
Complete
Disclaimer: Derivative work. I make no money.
A/N: Written for the 2017 Fandoms for Hope and Relief in response to Hurricanes Harvey, Irma, and Maria, and the earthquake in Mexico on 09/19/2017. It brought in $680.00!
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"So, where's this guy Bobby and why are we in his house?" Bella asked Sam. Both were loaded down with filled-to-bursting plastic grocery bags. They struggled to haul them into the dated but homey kitchen all in one trip. When they were finally able to pile the bounty on the rectangular, white-painted table pushed under a wide window, each let out a satisfied grunt.
Dean sauntered in from the adjoining darkened room that was a study or library of some sort. Bella really hadn't gotten a good look before Sam suggested they make a food run. Maybe she'd have a chance to explore the house later.
"He hasn't called us back yet. Probably on a case." Eyebrows raised with curiosity, Dean leaned over to check for goodies in all the bags.
"Here ya go, Dean." Sam thrust a cold long neck into his hand and spun him around, herding him back toward the study. "Uh, Bella, Bobby's kind of like our … mentor?"
"I wanna see what you got at the store," Dean complained. "You get me anything?" He tried to push Sam out of the way to reach the table. "He's sort of like an uncle. Maybe like a step dad."
"Dean, let's just let Bella put things away. She promised to make tacos." He smiled widely, nodding his head. "Right, Bella?"
Sam towered over her so she had to tip her head way back to look up at him. "Yeah, just let me put all of this somewhere and then I'll get started." She lifted some bright red tomatoes out of a bag she had moved to the counter by the sink and placed them in the window sill, and then reached for the refrigerator. "Again, why are we here?"
"Well, because … you're a woman, and … and …" Dean stuttered.
Straightening stiffly from her examination of the appallingly empty cavern of the refrigerator, Bella turned slowly to face the flannel-clad men. "What has being a woman got to do with it?" She elbowed the fridge door shut and crossed her arms over her own flannel shirt.
"What Dean is trying to say is this is a safe house for us. A home base." Sam grabbed a beer of his own, still hanging onto Dean's arm. "After spending days in the car, it's good to stretch our legs, sleep in an actual bed—"
Dean added quickly, "Uh, yeah! Shower in a bathroom that a million other skeevy people haven't used in some cheap motel, and—"
"And a woman needs to be in a kitchen to cook you dinner?" One contemptuous eyebrow crept up her forehead.
"Well, ha ha," Dean's strained chuckle filled the quiet room. "If you insist …"
The forced good humor dropped from his face when he saw the size of the blade in Bella's hand and he swallowed thickly. "Where …? Y-you've gotten pretty good at that."
"She's gotten even better at throwing them," Sam hissed and hooked his arm through his brother's. "She practiced during your naps. Why the hell do you two keep fighting? Let's go power up the laptop and look for another job."
"Before I really tick her off and she doesn't make tacos?"
Before they could escape the kitchen, Bella spun to her left and flung the knife.
All that could be heard in the stunned silence that followed were Bella's quick shallow breaths as she reached to the wooden block on the counter to retrieve another pointy projectile.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Bella! Stop!" Dean shoved Sam out of the way, set his beer down on the table, and leapt toward Bella, grabbing her arm. "Stop! That's Bobby!"
The bearded intruder stood stock still in the side doorway and released the duffle bag in his hand. It landed with a loud clank. Raising one grizzled eyebrow, he deliberately turned to look over his shoulder at the new wall decoration several feet behind him—a well-worn and frayed blue ball cap pinned with a rune-etched eight-inch dagger.
"Nice throw," Sam murmured in awe before he finally regained his senses and darted toward Bella.
She slammed the butcher knife down onto the counter and muttered, "I was aiming for his chest."
With a loud harrumph, Bobby faced them again, face red and eyes sparking dangerously. "You boys mind tellin' me who this little girl is in my kitchen?" He propped his hands on his belt. "And why she tried to skewer me in my own damn house?"
Before anyone had a chance to comment, Bella was flinging water all over him from a little metal flask. "You sure this is your friend Bobby and not some demon? His face is awfully red."
Both brothers scrambled to grab her hands and take the container of holy water away from her. For good measure, while Dean held her hands, Sam pushed the knife block out of reach.
Dean nudged her back against the counter. "Red eyes not face. Yeah, Bella, we're sure he's not a demon. He just gets like that when people try to shish kabob him," Dean explained.
Sam let out a huff and clapped his hands together, hoping proper introductions would help ease the tension. "Er, yes, Bella, this is our good friend and mentor, Bobby Singer," he said, stretching one hand toward the fuming man. "Bobby, this is Bella Swan. We met her over in Forks, Washington."
"Stupid name for a town. Never heard of it." Clenching his teeth around a quiet snarl, Bobby stomped to the back wall, yanked out the knife and jammed the hat down on his head. He stood glaring at them, gripping the leather-wrapped handle of the weapon as if he was contemplating throwing it back. He let out a gusty sigh, leaned toward the counter, and gently placed the knife down. "You boys bringin' home strays now?"
"I'm not a little girl or a stray. I'm the new apprentice." Bella forcefully wrenched her hands from Dean's and leaned against the chipped counter. "They blew up my house, and there's vampires and werewolves after me."
"Apprentice? C'mon, Bells," Dean whined. "Bobby, she's exaggerating. We didn't blow up the whole thing."
"You blew up enough of it. We really should have gotten the body out of there before we left." Belle shoved Dean out of her way and grabbed another bag from the table. "How's Charlie supposed to explain that to the insurance company?" She set it down on the counter by the sink a little harder than absolutely necessary. "Hey, maybe he'll get enough money to add another bathroom. I should write him a note and tell him to consider it."
"Well, with the wolves coming, we didn't have time." Sam cleared his throat nervously.
Dean let out a derisive snort. "A pack of giant, slavering, drooling, rabid, out-of-their mind—"
Sam elbowed him to shut him up. "They'll probably just think your friend—"
"Ex-friend," Bella reminded him with a growl.
"Uh, right," Sam nodded in agreement. "Ex-friend. They'll probably just think he was the arsonist caught in his own fire."
Bella slapped her hands down on the counter and unhurriedly turned to face him, eying Bobby, who was still standing in the doorway, and Dean, who was attempting to get a peek into the bags.
Cocking her head to the side, Bella flipped her hair over her shoulders and then propped her hands on her hips. "With multiple gunshot and knife wounds?" She squeezed her eyes shut and brought her hand to her forehead. "He was Charlie's best friend's son. Why would anyone think he'd blow up Charlie's house? Especially since I happened to disappear?"
Bobby's head swiveled from person to person, watching the exchange. He nodded in agreement at Bella and looked to Dean, the question written all over his face.
Dean glanced toward Sam for help. When none was forthcoming, Dean burst out with, "How many times we gotta go over this? Your old pal was obviously nuts, trying to kidnap you and hopped up on some kind of Ki-yoot ju-ju, being some kind of ghost … wolf … dude-thing … Crazy people do crazy things, and the fire should have been hot enough to take care of the knife and bullet wounds." He shrugged, pleased with his own explanation. "Your dad was glad you weren't hurt and seemed to believe your story about needing to get outta Forks."
Bella eyebrows lowered angrily and she took a step forward. "I told you they're called Spirit Warriors. And what choice did I have? We were already gone. I probably should have gone back to tell him face-to-face, not a phone call from … where were we when I called him?"
"Chugwater, Wyoming," Dean answered helpfully.
"Okay, okay. That's enough." Bobby came farther into the room, his hands held up to try and calm everyone. "I'll take one of those beers, and I hope you brought more. This sounds like it's going to be a long story. It'll make our little road trip go by faster."
Bella was confused. "Road trip?"
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Words: 1511