The Joys of an Empty Nest

Rating: PG-13/T

Genre: General/Friendship/Romance/Fluff

Summary: For the love_bingo challenge, prompt "Loneliness". Post 2.06 "No Exit". Ellen's got empty-nest syndrome, and Bobby's there. Friendship, but could be interpreted as pre-Bobby/Ellen.

Author's Note: YESH, and FINALLY I have me some Bobby/Ellen stuff. I have a slot all ready for it on my SPN stories master post and I've never had any stories to link it to.

…And even then, it's still not as romantic as I would like.

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. It belongs to Eric Kripke.

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"How you holdin' up?"

Ellen slid a full glass to him before sitting down in the seat across from his at the table.

"Well enough."

"Liar." Bobby snorted. Ellen rolled her eyes at him, but he cocked an eyebrow at her and she sighed.

"Well, I don't know, Bobby, how would you feel if your daughter took off in the middle of the night to become a hunter and told you what she'd done via postcard a month later?"

Bobby gave that some thought as he swished the beer around a little. "I'd either praise her for her independence and initiative, or I'd go up to Duluth and drag her back home by the hair."

"She's an adult."

He snorted again. "She's been one for four years now and you've never let it stop you before." Ellen nodded wearily and conceded the point. "Jo's a smart girl, Ellen. Not like you couldn't see this coming, either: She's got a hunter's blood."

Ellen sniffed unconcernedly, which belied her next words: "I miss her."

"I miss Sam and Dean too when they go. I manage."

"Sam and Dean haven't lived with you nearly every day for the last twenty-two years." Ellen remarked dryly. "Your nest's never been full, so how would you know what it feels like to have it empty?"

Bobby shrugged nonchalantly and tried not to flinch at the sting that that particular point caused him.

Ellen seemed to sense that she'd said the wrong thing and sighed. "I'm sorry. That sounded bitchy."

"Eh." Bobby tried to sound indifferent. "True enough."

They sat in silence for a few minutes. It was an hour after she'd shut down officially for the night, and everything was silent save for the wind against the windows and the occasional creak when they shifted in their chairs. Jo was gone, Sam and Dean were on a hunt, and Ash was- Hell. Ellen didn't know what that boy got up to when he wasn't at the Roadhouse, and she didn't care to know.

"So, empty-nest syndrome aside, how've you been?"

"There's life outside of being a mother?" Ellen remarked by way of response.

"Pfft, never expected that from you."

"And what do you mean by that?"

"I mean that you always struck me as the kind of woman that knew how to make personal time for herself."

Ellen chuckled. "You are sadly mistaken. And I am twice as sad to realize how true it is." She shook her head. "Jo, the Roadhouse, whatever hunter needed a hand with some information or the occasional hunt. That's my life."

"Well, sounds more exciting that being the human library for whatever hunter calls for information. Though I do, on occasion, get to be an FBI Agent, CIA Agent, CDC worker, Police Officer, Social worker, Health official, MIB-"

"MIB?"

"Man in Black. All I have to do is put the sunglasses on, pull out a shiny silver pen and suddenly chooses not to remember anything of what they just saw." Ellen started to laugh, and it wasn't a particularly energetic laugh, but to him it seemed to work for her just fine.

"That's awful."

"Not my fault the idjits watch too many sci-fi movies."

Ellen's kept laughing until Bobby realized that she was sniffing and tearing up a little. Inside he groaned, because Ellen was easily the toughest woman he'd ever been fortunate enough to meet and seeing her crack like an egg wasn't on his list of favorite activities. He was no soft-shell either, but something about seeing Ellen Harvelle, Head Bitch In Charge who did not tolerate fools lightly and had been known to fire buckshot into the ceiling just to get your attention, all teary-eyed tugged on his otherwise soundly-snoozing heart.

"Hey there. Come on." He rose from his seat, moved around the table and put an arm around her shoulders. "It's not that bad, huh? She'll be back. It's the nature of kids. Things weren't always roses and sunshine, but she loved you, and she'll come back. Give her a little time to stretch her legs."

Ellen sighed and let her head rest a little heavier against Bobby's chest. "You're right. You're right, and I know that. I just… I just miss her so much. Damn quiet around here without her."

"What about Ash?"

"His noises aren't the kind I'm fixin' to hear if I can help it." She drawled, and Bobby chuckled.

"You'll be fine, Ellen. I don't know how you do it, but you're always fine."

"Hm." Ellen sounded skeptical, but she'd never exactly been the optimistic type. "Frankly, I don't know how I do it either." She looked up at him. "I wouldn't mind a little company tonight, if that's not too much trouble." Her hand came up to rest on the arm he had around her shoulders.

Pfft. Like he could say no.

"Well let's see," Bobby said dryly. "Stay here, or hop in the car and start the five hour drive back to Sioux Falls. I'm also half-drunk."

"Only half?" Ellen remarked.

"Drunk enough for a roll in the hay, if you're interested." He was joking (mostly, anyways), but Ellen seemed to take a moment to realize that.

"Not a chance. I do have standards, Singer."

"Don't I know it."

Her hand tightened on his arm. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me: Your standards speak for themselves."

"You know what I mean." In spite of the flat way she spoke, Ellen gently shrugged off his arm and stood up, stretching slightly. "I'll show you to the spare room?"

"All right."

He followed her around to the rooms at the back of the building. One he knew was hers, but there were enough doors that he didn't know which were which. Ellen moved with the gait of a woman who wasn't too far from falling asleep on her feet, and her eyes were half-lidded, indicative that once she'd gotten him squared away she'd be going straight to sleep.

She led him to a door, pushed it open and let him walk by. "This all right?"

"Do I look like the picky kind to you?"

"A bit." She smirked again. "If you need anything, you let me know."

"I will." He wouldn't and they both knew it. He was a stubborn bastard who liked to figure things out on his own, and knowing his luck, he'd end up walking into the desert trying to find the bathroom.

Ellen nodded, looked like she was about to leave, and then paced back over to him and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you, Bobby."

"Think I should be the one thanking you." Bobby mumbled gruffly, reaching up to fidget with his hat. Making a little crack about sleeping together was one thing, getting a kiss was another. "What happened to those standards of yours?"

Ellen went back to the door, looked over her shoulder and winked at him. "I do slum it ever now and then." She left, shutting the door behind her, and he didn't move until he couldn't hear her footsteps anymore. When everything was silent, Bobby sighed.

Maybe if they'd been drunker it would have worked out differently.

-End