Supernatural

An Unexpected Hand

An unexpected visitor shows up at Bobby's junkyard and offers to heal him. She's a little weird, but who isn't nowadays. The real question: Is her offer to good to be true?

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or Bobby Singer. I'm just having a little fun with them. They belong to the CW and Eric Kirpike. Lynne, however is mine.

The second clue that Bobby had that his visitor wasn't normal was the fact that her car was spotless. This should not have been possible after driving on a dusty dirt road for at least two miles.

The first clue that Bobby had was that she'd found his junkyard at all. No one normal found their way here-not any more. You had to be looking for this place to find it.

The visitor wasn't dangerous looking. In fact her appearance screamed "harmless". She was tall, plump, with red hair and hazel eyes that squinted as she took in the junkyard. She smiled when she saw Bobby sitting on the porch of his house, even her smile made her seem harmless.

"You Bobby Singer?" She asked, walking around her car so that she could get a closer look at him.

"Who wants to know?" Bobby asked, his hand drifting towards the shotgun across his lap.

"My name's Lynne." The visitor said. "Do you have any idea how hard this place is to find? I was driving around for more then an hour, and that was once I found the dirt road."

"What are you doing here?" Bobby asked.

"That depends," Lynne answered, leaning against the car. "Are you Bobby Singer?"

"Yeah." Bobby said after a moment's hesitation.

"Then I'm here to help you-if you'll let me." She walked towards Bobby. "I take it Sam and Dean didn't call to tell you I was coming?"

"No." Bobby said shortly. "They didn't."

Lynne stopped at the edge of the porch and rolled her eyes. "Figures, they go to all the trouble of convincing me to come out here-and forget to call and tell you that I'm coming."

Bobby lost patience with this little game and picked up his shotgun. "Enough dancing around." He said. "Who the hell are you and how in the hell do you think you're gonna help me?"

"Easy there," Lynne said, putting her hands out in front of her in a "calm down" gesture. "I'm not looking to get shot.

"The boys thought I could help you so they asked me to come out this way. My name is Lynne and I work at the Hideaway Hotel."

"You didn't answer the second question." Bobby kept the gun pointed at her.

"You want to walk again?" Lynne raised her eyebrows. "I'm a healer. Seems simple enough."

"You some kind of angel or something?"

"Let's just say that I'm in the 'or something' category." Lynne laughed a bit. "I'm not anything that you need to worry about though; not a demon, not a witch, not anything truly dangerous. And I'll stay that way if I have anything to say about it."

"Stop talking riddles." Bobby snapped.

"Look," Lynne was getting frustrated. "Do you want to walk again or not? Because if you don't, I'll just get back in my car and go home. I don't need this aggravation, and I don't need to have guns shoved in my face." Lynne waited for Bobby's response.

Bobby shifted nervously. "I'm not selling my soul." He said.

"No one's asking you to." Lynne softened a little bit. "I'm not asking you for anything in return." She said. "Except maybe a glass of water." She added with a smile. "It is pretty dry out here."

Bobby sighed put his shotgun across his lap again. Turning his wheelchair around, he rolled into the house. "Come on then." He said over his shoulder.

Lynne followed Bobby into the house.

Please review. I thrive off of reviews.