A/N: Well, hello there, lovelies! So, basically, I've been creative about every other story except for An AU for an AU. Wonderful. Thanks, brain. HOWEVER, here is this little thing that I actually plan on making a two-shot at least, so have a blast reading this, guys!
Disclaimer to state that I do not own any of the beautifully flawed characters from Supernatural in this story: right above this line. The OC is mine because we share the exact same name. Other than her and my own account, I own practically nothing on this website.
PLEASE leave a comment stating your opinion of my writing! I absolutely adore the nice ones, but also give me some criticism! I'm not a perfect writer, but I strive to be, and all of the nitpicking that you all are capable of doing would help me tremendously! So - yeah. Enjoy :)
"What exactly do you mean that it hasn't been returned yet, Doris?" I demanded as quietly as possible in the 'kids section' of the musty library. The crotchety woman in front of me didn't even bother looking up from her computer screen. It only fueled my anger.
I cleared my throat – probably quite obnoxiously – after she didn't respond as quickly as I would have preferred, and her stony eyes darted to mine. Doris' lips quirked downward and with all of those wrinkles and that jagged nose of hers, she could've pulled off being a witch any day of the week.
"As I have said for the past month, miss," she practically growled. I might have backed away at the sight in any other circumstance, but this was just way too important to me. "-your book has not been returned by its previous owner quite yet."
My eyes rolled in annoyance on their own account. Like that answered my question. "And who exactly was this previous owner, might I ask?"
Doris suddenly looked like an ugly, old cat with a canary in its devious, little paws. An achingly sweet smile stretched across her face and she placed her hands out on the table space in front of her. "That information is not for me to just hand out willy-nilly, Miss Summer."
I huffed. A witch. She's a goddamn witch. "What?" I barked. She didn't flinch. "You want money? Is that it?"
Doris, the money snatching witch, only remained there smirking at me. I cursed under my breath and side-eyed the mother and her wobbly, little toddler that walked past me. I was being thieved and they weren't even aware of the damn crime. I pulled my wallet out of my purse and dug a twenty out. I slapped it on the counter. "This ought to cover that precious information, don't you think, Doris?"
Her greedy hands plucked it right off of the wooden surface with a smug grin etched into her devilish features. She then nodded and turned to face the dusty computer. I looked up to the low, grimy ceiling in despair. Never trust a Doris. Ever.
"Let's see here…" The old lady muttered to herself, adjusting the wire glasses that sat on the tip of her nose. She typed some things into her computer while I stood there, probably emitting waves of impatience. The logical part of my brain scolded me for such rash actions, telling me that I could have just bought the damn book with the money I unwillingly gave to Doris, but I ignored it. Too late now.
"Ah, here we go!" Doris exclaimed. Right on time too, I almost succumbed to my urge of throttling her. I gripped the edges of the counter tightly and tossed out a quick, "Just give me the name." I was ready to hop right out of there and get to finding me my book.
Doris squinted at the screen for a minute or so. My impatience was running high. "Do you need me to read it for you?" I asked, sickeningly sweet. I deadpanned. "I'll be your age by the time you get it."
A glare was pointed in my direction by the old bat, but I threw it aside. "The name's Winchester. Sam Winchester." Finally. Now all I have to do is find whoever the hell that is. Easy.
I turned on my heel and proceeded to stride out of there, calling out, "Thanks for the help, you old witch!" over my shoulder. As I swung open the door, I heard a toddler shriek, "You're a witch?" But before I could experience any more of the impending chaos, the door slammed shut behind me. What a shame.
A laugh escaped me because damn it, that whole situation was just grand, and I allowed my eyes to scan the street for my car. It took a moment, only because the black car it was hiding behind was so shiny that it kept reflecting the harsh sun beams back into my eyes. I squinted a little and haphazardly looked left and right for any oncoming vehicles, before crossing the street.
Now, now – whose car is this? It's only natural for a small town girl like me, who is capable of recognizing every single car in this town, to question the sleek, stormy one that rested before me. I walked around it to properly observe it, and even I – the one who does not know one thing about a car besides my own – could not deny that it was a classic beauty. The car was in very good condition and extremely well taken care of.
"You see something you like?" I heard a gravelly voice ask behind me. I whipped around, feeling guilty for absolutely no reason whatsoever, and was just taken back. The man was attractive as hell, which means that he could not have lived in this town because I would have known if someone as fine as him lived around here.
My surprise dissolved quickly, and a small smirk tugged at my lips. "Indeed, I do," I replied, blatantly looking him up and down. His eyebrows raised in interest and I gestured at what I could only assume was his car. "She's gorgeous."
He cleared his throat uncomfortably and I stifled a grin. "Yeah, she really is," he replied. A cocky smile settled on to his face just then and he held out his hand. "Name's Dean Winchester."
Winchester. What're the odds? I had to disguise my shock as a halfhearted chuckle. He didn't seem to notice. I took his hand and we shook twice. "I'm Summer, nice to meet you, Dean."
After a quick moment, our hands broke away and returned to their respective bodies. I smirked up at him. "So, Winchester," I started nonchalantly, turning around to face his car. It really was nice to look at. He gave a hum. "I don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new in town or something?"
In the corner of my eye, I saw him shrug. "Not a permanent thing. My partner and I are just passing through."
I guess Dean saw my eyebrow quirk at the word 'partner' because he immediately went into defense mode. "Whoa, whoa, whoa. No. Work partner. For work." I didn't even bother trying to cover up my laugh. I held up my hands in surrender. "I didn't say anything, sweetheart."
He gave me a look. "Yeah, I'm sure you didn't." I lifted my shoulders in an innocent shrug and meandered over to my car. I looked back at him again. Time for my investigative skills to step out into the sun. "So, not that this is really pertinent or anything, but what's your work partner's name?"
Dean hesitated for a moment, and I wasn't really sure why. Maybe Sam Winchester was an escaped felon who just really liked borrowing books from small town libraries run by old ladies named Doris. "His name's Sam. He's actually my brother. We run our family business together."
Oh. Cool. "Very nice," I commented, flashing him a smile. He gave a smug, little grin back. "So, as wonderful as this small piece of human interaction is, sweetheart – I got to head to work, people are gonna be heading over there soon."
That part wasn't actually false. I worked at the only fun place in this whole damn town – the Bar. It paid little and a few particular customers were downright assholes, but I couldn't really complain. The free alcohol was lovely.
Dean took a small step towards me. "Well, before you go, sweetheart, how 'bout your number?"
A smirk captured my expression and he reciprocated. I walked over to the driver's side of my car, with Dean following close behind. "Well, how about this, Dean-o," I said, unlocking my car. He pulled the door open for me. "How about you come by the Bar later tonight and maybe I'll give it to you?"
I watched his eyebrows shoot up. "You work at a bar?" His voice was colored with surprise.
"Yeah," I replied, plopping down onto the driver's seat. I grinned. "You didn't think I worked at the library over there or somethin', did you?"
Dean chuckled. "That's actually exactly what I thought. I saw you walk out of there earlier, so that plus the fact that you don't really look like a bartender type…" He trailed off and left me to do the math. I gave a scoff, simultaneously rolling down the car window. He pushed the door shut.
"Trust me, Dean, you wouldn't find me working in there alongside the Wicked Witch of the West." I laughed at his confused face. "I'll tell you later, sweetheart. If you come swing by my workplace for a quick visit."
He stepped back as I started my car, the engine roaring to life and my headlights kicking on. "Wouldn't miss it," he said, giving me a wink.
As I pulled out of the parking space and headed down the road, I could only wonder if I still had some of that lipstick left in my purse.
