A/N: Here's a new story. How many of you are annoyed? Yeah, I thought so. All the same, hope you like it!

Title: One and Another

Author: liketolaugh

Rating: T

Pairings: None

Genre: Drama/Mystery

Warnings: None

Summary: Dean stumbles across a strange child playing poker in a place where he does not belong. Shortly thereafter, the two of them walking together run across something even Dean's never seen before. Things only escalate from there. Stanford Era!Dean and Pre-series!Allen.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, Supernatural is not mine. Neither is D. Gray-man.

Dean, head held high and one hand in his pocket, cut through the bar easily, heading straight for the back, where he could spot a poker game already in progress. His territory, through and through.

He drew to a halt beside the table and watched for a moment, assessing them. It seemed like they'd only just started, and if he had to guess, it wasn't an honest game.

It also seemed to be the three men conspiring against a little white-haired kid that definitely wouldn't be in here if there was any kind of decent law enforcement in this town. He frowned, but shook his head; not his problem, he reminded himself. Not his problem. Never mind his soft spot for kids, it was not his problem.

Dammit.

He caught the attention of one of the men, a gruff-looking man with a full beard and short brown hair, and flashed him a grin. "Mind if I cut in on this little tea party?" he asked lightly.

The white-haired kid (and what was up with that, anyway?) looked up at him with wide gray eyes. Dean noted that a jagged scar ran down the left side of his face, cutting right through his eye, and that it was topped by something he couldn't quite make out, hidden as it was by the kid's hair.

The man he'd addressed, though, chuckled. "Think you can take it, kid?" he taunted the child across from him.

The boy tucked his head in a little, looking nervous and uncomfortable, like he didn't really want to be here, but nodded. "Okay," he said quietly, sounding even younger than he looked.

Dean sat down, smirking just a little arrogantly. The man he'd spoken to dealt him in as Dean glanced at the kid again and reached out, ruffling the snow-white strands playfully.

"Dude. White hair." The boy glanced up at him in time to catch the grin he shot him, and offered a slightly uncertain smile in return. "What's up with that?" Dean continued, nonchalant.

The boy cast him a slightly fearful glance, tucked his head in a little farther, and shrugged. "I don't know, mister," he whispered, almost too quietly for Dean to catch.

"Dude!" Dean objected instantly. "Don't call me mister." He offered the kid his hand, trying to get him to stop looking so damn scared. "Name's Dean."

The boy took it hesitantly, shaking it once before letting go. "Allen," he returned, voice soft.

Dean picked up his cards and gave him a glance, listening with half an ear as the dealer began. "So what's an underage kid like you doing here?" he asked conversationally. Without his permission, his goal here had turned from 'make enough money to last another week' to kid duty.

Damn.

The dealer, though, snorted, catching the words. "He's paying off his master's debts, ain't that right, boy?" He leered at Allen, a malicious smirk on his face.

Dean raised an eyebrow and looked down at Allen. "That true, kid?"

Allen nodded, not looking at him as he focused on his own cards. "Yes, sir," he said quietly.

"Dude. Dean," Dean reminded him.

"Dean," Allen amended, offering him another uncertain smile.

Dean grinned back, feeling a little sorry that he'd be cleaning this kid out, not just the three men at the table.

More rounds than Dean cared to count later, he stared openmouthed as Allen gave a small smile and laid his cards on the table.

"Straight flush," Allen announced quietly, still smiling.

Dean groaned and leaned back, slapping down his own four-of-a-kind on the table. "Damn, kid. I don't know how you do it." Which was a lie, because he totally did, except how was the kid better than all of them put together?

Allen cast him another little smile, seeming much more at ease than he had at the beginning. Dean figured it was a combination of his own coaxing and the kid's consistent success.

"I'm out," Dean continued. He cast Allen a halfhearted glower. "Cleaning me out here, Al."

Allen blushed lightly, and went back to looking at his cards studiously, having already been dealt into the next round.

"Well, don't feel like you gotta stick around to the end," griped the brown-haired man to the dealer's left. "That damn apprentice might be good, but he's got a long way to go before he pays off that damn Cross' debt."

At the mention of the apparent size of the debt, Allen's confidence seemed to all but vanish as he shrunk in on himself again.

Dean shrugged and leaned back in his chair. "Hey, I've got nothing better to do," he claimed. Which was a lie – he had a freaking hunt to finish and money to make somewhere else, somewhere without a cheating kid to clean him out – but he wasn't going to say that.

The man shrugged at him. "If you're sure."

Dean nodded, leaned back, and proceeded to watch for the next who-the-hell-knows-how-long as Allen proceeded to all but strip the men down to their underwear, never once losing a round. Fortunately, they seemed to have the sense to stop before it got to that point; the slightly mischievous quality to Allen's smile told Dean that not everyone had that sense.

The blond haired man to the first dealer's right slammed down his cards with a disbelieving huff. "Forget it," he snorted. "Debt's paid, kid, and then some. Go run off to your master."

Allen gave him a little smile, eyes dancing with mischief and a hint of darkness, before scooping up his winnings – smaller than Dean would've thought, with the sheer number of rounds – and stuffing them in his pocket with the strange red hand Dean had noted earlier, which had a small black wrap covering the palm and the back.

"Goodbye, Mister Dean," he said to Dean, waving a little as he hurried out the door, not even looking back at the men at the table.

Mister Dean? Dean frowned, then shrugged, chuckling a little. Eh, close enough.

Dean raised an eyebrow at Allen, smirking slightly. "Not just yet, kid." He stood and stretched a little, before going after the puzzled kid. "Can't let you go by yourself now, can I? Shady characters about." He made a show of glancing back and forth suspiciously, wringing a soft giggle from the boy.

"OK," Allen agreed eventually, not looking too concerned either way.

Normally I wouldn't dare to start a new story at this point, but this one's going to be fairly short, so I figured hey, what the heck. Please review and let me know what you think of it!