Observations 1/3

Sam looked down at his homework again and bit the end of his pen before flipping back through his History book and marking the answer. Okay, ten more to go and then he had to wash dishes before the evening rush.

Ellen smiled at him from where she was checking the beer taps, making sure they didn't need to bring anymore up from the cellar. "How's it going over there?"

He shrugged, "History."

"Is that good or bad?"

Sam shifted on the stool, his legs bent uncomfortably thanks to his growth spurt. "Okay. I like history, but the school books are kind of boring."

Ellen nodded knowingly, "Maybe this weekend Dean can take you into town and you can get something more interesting."

Like magic, Dean's voice filtered in through the kitchen from the back hallway, "I'm not driving his ass half an hour so he can geek out!"

"Dean Winchester, you will do what I say, or you'll be doing toilet duty next week, too."

"Damnit!"

"And what did I say about that mouth of yours?"

Sam snickered as he wrote down the next answer for his homework. Usually Jo cleaned the bathrooms out and Dean was delegated to heavy lifting, but early that week Ellen had caught Dean trying to sneak out at three in the morning. That in itself wouldn't have been so bad, but the string of curse words that flew from Dean's mouth as the two of them yelled at each other had been.

Some of the more choice phrases that Sam and Jo had overheard as they hunkered under his window, included: "You are such an overbearing bitch, Ellen. I'm twenty-two, I don't need your goddamned permission. I'll leave the fucking house anytime I damn well please," and, "Fuck you!" which wouldn't have been so bad, except Jo and Sam had kept count and he'd said it twenty-three times in only fourteen minutes.

For that, Dean got toilet duty and Jo had to haul bottles of beer and other supplies from the basement. Not that Jo was complaining. In fact, for the past two days she'd been laughing her ass off anytime Dean couldn't hear her.

Ellen stood up, wiping her hands. "We're low on Miller."

Then, because Dean never could learn his lesson, "It's shit anyway."

"Dean!" Ellen put the rag down and stormed into the kitchen. "You keep that up and Jo's getting tonight off."

That was two strikes. One more and Ellen would live up to both those threats and probably a few others. She usually did and sometimes Sam had to wonder if Dean didn't enjoy it or something, because there wasn't any other reason for him to goad her like that.

The door opened and Sam half glanced up, but it was only Kay, so he looked back at his homework, disinterested. Kay was, as Dean put it, five-foot-eleven of Xena Warrior Princess. She'd do just about any job that was vicious enough to put up a good fight and, according to Dean, that included men. Not that Dean had ever slept with her, because he said he wasn't into the whole pain during sex thing, thank you very much. Sam just figured Kay wasn't interested.

From the corner of his eye, he tracked her as she made her way immediately to the bar, holding her hand out. "Morning, Ellen."

Ellen took it, smiling like she always did. "Four in the afternoon is hardly morning."

"It is when you got up twenty minutes ago. You got any coffee?"

"Sure. Dean, get some coffee out here!"

Much to Sam's surprise, there was only the barest hint of grumbling in response.

"Thanks. So, I was stopping by to see what you could make of this."

Sam forced himself not to move, but he lifted his eyes, watching through his bangs as a folder was passed to Ellen. "What is it?"

"Murder down south. I think there's more to it, but..."

Ellen gave her a reassuring nod. "I'll get Ash on it. You want to stay the night?"

Kay nodded, "Thanks, Ellen."

"I'll be right back." Ellen patted Kay's hand.

She went through the door and Sam quickly looked back down before Kay could realize he was watching her. From his peripheral, he saw Kay turn to face the room, her elbows on the top of the bar behind her. She looked around for a minute before her eyes finally slid over to Sam.

There was a short pause and Sam could practically feel her looking him over. The last time he'd seen her had been months ago, well before his most recent growth spurt. A smile spread over her face and she turned to him, "Hey, kid."

He looked up. "Hi."

Kay bit her lower lip, glancing at the kitchen door before taking the seat next to him, giving him an easy, laid back smile, "What are you doing?"

Sam lifted his book up, flashing the cover before setting it back down. "History. Dean says it's a waste, but... I kind of like it."

"Well," Kay grabbed the book, her eyes scanning over the page briefly, "What Dean doesn't know could fill a library."

"I heard that, Kay!"

Sam bit his tongue to keep from laughing, but Kay didn't seem impressed. "Good, then hear this - where's my coffee?"

The swinging door opened and Dean stormed out, slamming a mug onto the counter, sloshing hot coffee over the brim, before storming out again and back to the bathrooms. Ellen had said he had to bleach them, that it was long overdue. Sam figured it was just an excuse to up his punishment. He also figured Dean was lucky she wasn't making him paint the walls and polish the hardware.

Kay wagged her eyebrows at Sam. "So, Sam, what else do you like?"

"English and math, computer science, everything really. Except maybe art. I'm not really into art, but there aren't a lot of options here. I could have taken Drama, but Dean would have had a coronary."

Kay chuckled, putting a hand on his leg. "You'll love college, then. There are enough options to make your head spin."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah. Psychology and Sociology and History, if you can believe that."

"Really? As electives?"

"Oh, yeah." The hand squeezed his leg before letting go and Kay slid the History book back towards him. Sam couldn't help grinning, despite himself. It was hard to picture Kay going to college, but then Jo had gone for a year and he hadn't been able to picture that either.

Kay's legs splayed a little wider, her knee touching his as she returned his grin. "Have you given any thought to what you'll study while you're there?"

Sam blushed, looking down at his homework and hurriedly filling in an answer further down the page. "Not really." He forced himself not to look at the window to the kitchen, because he already knew Dean wouldn't be there, but that didn't mean he wasn't listening.

He hadn't said anything about college to Dean. Ever since Jo had gone for that year, he'd been thinking about it. Part of him thought maybe he owed it to Dean to stay there and take up Hunting, but the other part… well, the other part knew he wasn't nearly as good at it as Dean was and he didn't really like it. Then there was the money. Ellen gave him weapons and stuff, but Dean refused to ask for cash, even if he needed it for gas and food on the road, not to mention when he needed parts for the Impala. So, maybe if Sam worked hard and got a good job, he could help, maybe…

Kay interrupted his thoughts by waving a hand in front of his face and he blinked, blushing. "Sorry."

Her hand fell back onto his leg, higher up on his thigh and she was still smiling at him, kind of quirked up on one side, like there was something more to it, but he wasn't sure what.

The kitchen door opened and Ellen came back through, stopping when Kay hastily removed her hand and pulled her leg away from Sam's. Ellen stared at them for several long moments that left Sam feeling like maybe he'd done something wrong, even if he wasn't sure what it was. Finally, she turned to Kay. "Ash says he'll have something for you by tomorrow. Sam, honey, go finish your homework at the house."

She hadn't even looked at him, so Sam was pretty sure he wasn't the one in trouble. Picking up his things, he gave Kay a parting nod before heading toward the hall that led to the backdoor and he couldn't hear what Ellen was saying to Kay, but he figured it couldn't have been nice, because Kay's ears were already turning bright pink.

Dean was twenty-two and that was plenty old to be serving alcohol, but Ellen insisted she'd trained him up as a waiter and she wasn't about to put over five years to waste. Sam wasn't technically legal to serve alcohol, but if there was one thing Ellen had learned about Sam, it was that he could smile his way out of anything.

Last year, the school counselor had found out that Sam was working at the bar and had come by to give Ellen a talking to. Sam had been only fifteen, handing out beers when she'd walked in. Ellen could have handled it herself, but Sam just smiled at the woman and talked to her in his too-adult voice, with his too-adult logic.

"Oh, it's not a big deal, Ms. Hawthorn. Aunt Ellen makes sure I get my homework done and go to bed before ten. She's great, really, without her I'm not sure where I'd be. She kept me and Dean together, you know, when our Dad went missing. You know about that, right? I was nearly eleven and Dean was sixteen, but she didn't complain, just took us in, gave us a room together and stuffed us full. I think working the bar a few nights out of the week is the least I can do. Right?"

That and Sam's winning smile and Ms. Hawthorn had melted into the same puddle of goo that Ellen had and would see many girls and women fall into. Sam was just that good. Not that he knew it and thank god for that, because the last thing she needed was another Dean.

Ellen eyed Dean from across the bar, where he was smirking at a pretty blonde in tight jeans and a worn tank top that showed the straps of her fire-engine-red bra. "Hey, Michelle, how's it going?"

Jo rolled her eyes and took the tray of beers, bussing them out while Dean chatted with Michelle about the heat and, oh, Michelle was going to community college until she got picked up by one of the cheerleading scouts. Any day now. Ellen knew where this was going.

For the past two years, anytime a hunter came into the Roadhouse, Dean turned up the charm with any available lady that wasn't carrying an assault rifle. Today, the hunter was Brandon Carlyle, here to pick up a file Ellen had told him about and until he left, Dean was going to half ass his job and probably sneak out back to make out with Michelle.

Damn Caleb and his talk all to hell. The only thing he'd accomplished was putting fear in the boy that everyone was gonna think he was gay and, worse yet, now that Ellen knew the reason for Dean's odd behavior, she couldn't even blame him. If the kid wanted to flirt with pretty girls to keep up an image he didn't even believe in himself, well, who was she to stop him?

The tricky part, however, was getting him to do it on his own time. "Dean, talk less, work more."

Dean nodded to Ellen, winked at Michelle and left to get back to work. With its connection to Hunters, the Roadhouse usually stayed pretty busy starting at three in the afternoon and stretching to past midnight. Right then, it was rounding on ten in the evening and time for Sam to get ready for bed.

"Sam, get out of here."

Sam looked at the crowd, specifically at the tart in the red bra staring at Dean's ass, and tried his puppy dog eyes. "I'm not tired. I could stay another hour or two."

Ellen raised an eyebrow, "Or you could do as you're told and go to bed. Now get."

"Fine." Sam gave her a hug before leaving, nodding at Dean. Ellen didn't miss the glare Sam shot at Michelle before he left. Honestly, she didn't know what the hell she was going to do with that boy.

Stupid, backwater, no brain, blonde, tramp. Sam kicked at the dirt, shoving his hands in his pockets. Why did Dean have to flirt with her anyway? It wasn't like he liked her.

Diverting his path, he went behind the weapon's shed instead. At least Jo had been family. Michelle was some nothing little wanna-be cheerleader who thought she was going to make it into the professionals just because she had big breasts and could do the splits.

He kicked the tin wall behind him and leaned against it. It shouldn't matter that Dean was flirting with her, but...

"Sam?"

Kay came around the corner and Sam pushed away from the wall, standing straight. He'd hit a growth spurt in the last year and was as tall as Dean now, putting him just an inch or two above Kay. Standing up, those two inches seemed to make a real difference. He kind of felt like he was towering over her.

She smiled up at him and he slouched a little, self conscious that someone nearly twenty years older than him was shorter. What if he got even taller? What if he got taller than Dean? He had a mental image of Dean tormenting him for years, holding things just out of his reach, and suddenly, being taller than Dean didn't seem like such a bad thing.

"Hi, Kay."

"What are you doing out here? I thought Ellen sent you to your room."

Sam shrugged, "Just wanted to be alone for a while."

"Oh." Her smile didn't falter, even if she sounded a little disappointed. "Do you want me to go?"

He shook his head. "No! I didn't mean... you can stay."

She relaxed against the shed, her thumbs hooked in her cargo pants and after a moment, Sam leaned back again, letting himself relax. "Sorry about that. I just... it's been a rough day."

Kay nodded and put her hand on Sam's shoulder. "Wanna tell me about it?"

Sam could feel himself blushing and silently thanked whoever was listening that it was dark out. "I don't know."

"Hm." A minute of silence stretched into two and Sam was just about to excuse himself. Ellen might decide to check if he was really in bed and it wasn't like he was doing this to disobey her or anything, he just hadn't wanted to deal with anyone, not even Ash, right now.

"Is it about Dean?" Dark or not, she must have been able to see his stunned expression, because her next words were, "You don't have to tell me, but... you know, not sure what you had against that little blonde in there, but if looks could kill, she would have gone up in a puff the moment she smiled at him. I was half convinced you were gonna jump the bar."

Oh, god. If she'd noticed, others might have too and what was he going to say? How did you cover that up?

Fortunately, Kay did it for him. "I get it, though. She's not good enough for your brother, but then I don't think anybody would be."

He sighed in relief, not realizing how tense he'd been until his muscles started to unwind. "Yeah."

"You two are real close. I like that. Family's important, Sam, but Dean can take care of himself. He's a big boy." Her hand squeezed his shoulder. "So are you."

Wait a minute. He looked over at her hand, but it was creeping around to the back of his neck and Sam found himself staring at her arm, which led to her face and she was smiling more softly than he'd ever seen her smile before. "You know, I'll bet there isn't a girl good enough for you, either. Least not in Dean's eyes, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't have one."

He wasn't sure what to say to that, so he didn't say anything.

"Can I be honest with you, Sam?" He nodded, dumbstruck by the low purr in her voice. "I've been watching you pretty close this last year. You've done a lot of growing up."

Her hand brushed up against his leg and he had a flash of that afternoon — of her hand on his thigh and he hadn't really thought anything of it, because he hadn't realized it was a possibility. She pushed her thumb through the belt loop of his jeans and his brain stuttered. He opened his mouth, but closed it quickly, because he wasn't sure what he was going to say, but he was pretty sure it would come out gibberish. Then, slowly but surely, she pulled him down those impossibly long two inches, into a soft kiss.

It wasn't Sam's first kiss, but he hadn't had a whole lot of others and mostly it was this one girl in his grade that he'd sort of dated, except he didn't really like her that way. Kay, though, wasn't a girl, she was a woman and she had a lot more experience than Anna-Beth. When Kay's tongue swept over his lips, he opened his mouth and she may have been shorter and smaller in most respects, but as she pushed him back against the wall, he knew who was in control of this.

He could have pushed her away. All he'd have had to do was say 'stop,' really, and she would have. She certainly gave him the opportunity. She worked her tongue in his mouth, gripped the back of his head, rubbing the top of her thigh over his quickly hardening cock and asked him, "You okay with this?"

Sam thought about saying no. This wasn't exactly the kind of thing he'd ever pictured himself doing and especially not with someone like Kay. The few times he'd had fantasies about women, they were his age and flat-chested, short, and skinny - not full figured, curvy, tall, and muscular. Only, Kay kind of reminded him of Dean. Not in the way she looked or anything, because god knows, Dean didn't have breasts or long flowing brown hair and he didn't go around pushing Sam against walls and grinding against him until he was short of breath and unable to form complete sentences. All those things aside, Kay was cocky, self-assured, she never showed her emotions, she lived to hunt, and she was damn good at it.

Slowly, Sam moved his hands around her back, one cupping her ass, the other playing along the base of her spine and Kay smiled up at him, kissing him again and moaning. She moved off his mouth, biting at his neck instead and Sam felt incredibly awkward. What was he supposed to do now?

"So, uh... why do you... I mean, Dean said you like rough men." His voice cracked embarrassingly over the word men as she bit particularly hard just under his ear.

"Like I said, what Dean doesn't know could fill a library." Kay worked her hand between their bodies, wrapping it around Sam's jean covered and suddenly very interested dick. "Sure I like big men, Sam, but if that's all I wanted, I'd have my pick of burly hunters."

She worked her hand over him and Sam dropped his head back against the wall. It felt... different having someone else touch him there. He'd jacked off plenty of times, almost daily. Hell, he'd turned it into a goddamned art form, done in under five minutes, because that was all the time he had in the shower before someone got suspicious. Kay raked her finger nails over him and even through his jeans it was enough to nearly make him cum.

"That's not what I want, though. I like a man with a brain, Sam."

"Then why not... ng... Ash." Stupid mouth! Sam grit his teeth to keep anything else from coming out. Seriously, he was a short step away from getting a hand job and he was questioning it?

Kay chuckled in his ear, "God point. Let's amend that to smart and capable. Most days Ash has a hard time telling his ass from his face. I'd prefer someone who'll be alive come next year. Know what I mean?"

She punctuated her words by thumbing the button open and unzipping his jeans. Sam nodded hastily to her question. Although, actually, he had no fucking clue what she meant, because all the blood had traveled south and the only thought he could manage was 'fuck.' More as a curse word than a realization of what was to come, but he'd deal with that later when there wasn't a hand down his boxers.

Sam's legs very nearly gave out and he was grateful that he was back against the wall or he might have fallen on his ass the minute her warm fingers wrapped fully around him.

"Impressive, Sammy. You know what to do with it?"

He wanted to say something smooth, like Dean would. Something like 'why don't you lay back and let me show you?' Except, the only thing he could get out of his mouth was, "Um... yeah?"

"Right." She removed her hand entirely and Sam fought the urge to beg her to put it back. "Tell you what? How about we get this part of it over nice and quick and then we slow down and do it again?"

"Again?" He really wished his voice would stop choking back.

"Yeah, again." She pushed his jeans down his hips and knelt on the ground. Sam only had about two seconds to realize what she was going to do before her lips were around the head of his cock and, just like that, he came, legs giving out under him.

Jesus fucking Christ. His first thought, when he'd recovered enough to think, was 'so this is why people do that.' He'd wondered, really, because it sounded like it might feel good, but he kept thinking of Dean's face when he'd come back from every trick he'd turned. He saw that stone mask and the way Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and spit on the ground like he was trying to get rid of something dirty and he'd thought nothing could be worth that.

It wasn't, really, because he wasn't going to go out and pay someone to do it, but if someone were willing? Well, that was another matter all together.

"You with me, sport?"

He blinked and realized that Kay was staring at him. She licked her lower lip and his breath caught in his throat, his cock giving a half interested twitch. "Yeah, I'm, uh... I'm here."

She sat up and leaned forward, kissing him again. Sam opened his mouth for her without thinking and started a little at the bitter taste of his own cum on her tongue. It was... strange, but not bad.

Pulling back, she took his hand, putting it under her shirt to cup her breast. "Good, 'cause we've just gotten started."

Brandon had left ten minutes ago, thank god, and Dean had been all but ignoring a very confused Michelle since then. The bar was winding down for the night as anyone from the nearby town dwindled, leaving only the Hunters sitting around the booths, sipping beers. Hunters weren't exactly the noisy sort. They talked among themselves, but they were trained in stealth - at least, the one that lived past their first year - so it was always hushed tones and muted hand gestures.

Other thing about Hunters, were the hours they kept. Any of them worth their salt couldn't get to sleep before three or four in the morning, 'cause they were used to working nights. Which was why Ellen kept the bar open so late. It gave them a place to sit back and wind down until they were ready to drag themselves to the nearest motel and sleep till noon.

Dean was no exception to that. From the minute the sun went down, to nearly straight up three o'clock, the boy was on edge. Not that he let it show. Another trait that Dean had in common with most Hunters was his ability to look absolutely bored with a situation, no matter how jumpy he was. Acting and lying were the most important skills any Hunter could have, right along side knife fighting and precision shooting.

"Hey, Ellen."

Marty was hanging half through the window that separated the kitchen from the bar, looking around nervously. He was a good kid, but a little twitchy. His daddy, like Jo's had been a Hunter, but Marty had never taken to it and maybe it was knowing what was out there and knowing he couldn't protect himself against it, but whatever it was, he was real anxious most of the time. He was a good kid, though, and Ellen had kind of hoped his disinterest in Hunting would rub off on Jo. So far, it was no such luck.

She went over to the window, leaning in, "What is it, sweetie?"

"I noticed the light hadn't gone out in the house and, uh... Well, Ash came in to get something and I asked him and he said Sam hadn't shown up, yet."

Damn kid was probably out behind the weapon's shed again, sulking about Michelle and Dean's inability to just let things ride. Couldn't just let the damn Hunting community think whatever the hell they wanted. No, he had to flirt like a world class Casanova the minute one of his circle came into his line of sight. Then Sam would get pissed off and, honestly, it was a shining testament to Sam's self control that any of those girls walked out of there unscathed.

That, however, was another issue for another time.

She thanked Marty and gave Dean a hand sign that meant she'd be right back. He didn't need to know why. Dean was so overprotective of Sam, it was unhealthy. If she said Sam hadn't made it to the house yet, Dean's first reaction would be to assume something had his brother and charge out the door with his gun cocked and ready to fire at the first thing that moved.

With Dean, it was always better to keep him in the dark until he absolutely needed to know and sometimes even then, you had to re-evaluate what constituted needing to know.

She rounded the corner of the shed, mouth open to admonish Sam for not doing what she'd said... and stopped short as she was greeted with the kind of sight no mother - surrogate or otherwise - wants to see.

Kay - and damn her to hell, because Ellen had been afraid this kind of thing was going to happen for over a year now - was laid out on her back, hands pressed against the shed behind her, back arched, legs spread with her knees hooked around Sam's shoulders. Sam was on his stomach, pants around his knees, and his head buried between Kay's legs.

Before Ellen could stop herself, not that she would have bothered, she yelled, "Samuel Winchester!"

Sam's reaction was immediate. At the sound of Ellen's voice, he grabbed his pants to cover himself, trying to stand up at the same time. It would have been funny if Ellen hadn't been so goddamned furious.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Sam flushed bright pink, "I... uh... she... we..."

Kay sat up, not even bothering to reach for the pants laying a few feet away. "Hey, Ellen."

Ellen just about saw red. "Get. Up. Now."

Kay rolled her eyes and grabbed her jeans, dragging them on before she stood. "Now, Ellen, you're getting all bent out of shape over nothing."

"Nothing?" She looked over Sam, who was so far hunched into himself, he looked about half his size. "That's not nothing, Kay. That's sixteen-years-old."

"At sixteen, I was already..."

"Fucking half the debate team, I get that, but you aren't sixteen anymore, you are thirty four and this is my bar and that boy is my responsibility."

Sam slunk back a little, but stopped when Ellen shot him a quick glare. As mad as she was at Kay, Sam had some responsibility in this, too.

"Ellen, come on, it's not that big a deal..."

"Yeah? Well, we'll just see how Dean feels about that."

She hadn't meant to say it, because she actually had no intentions of telling Dean anything. While Sam may have had the self control not to leap over the bar and strangle the tramps Dean flirted with or to hunt down the few he'd actually slept with, Dean did not. If Dean knew Kay had so much as laid a hand on his little brother, he would hunt her down and rip her limb from limb.

Kay blanched. "You wouldn't."

"Wouldn't I?"

Sam looked between the two, practically holding his breath. Kay had turned a funny yellow-white and it occurred to Sam that maybe she was... afraid of Dean? That didn't make any sense, though. She was older, had more training and years under her belt. She could probably fight circles around his brother.

Kay stomped down on the ground in a very unintentionally accurate rendition of the tantrums Sam half remembered throwing when he was seven. "Come on, Ellen!"

Ellen crossed her arms over her chest and Sam knew her well enough to know she was thinking something over. "Or what? You damn well know you deserve it."

"No one deserves that."

There was a long pause, while Ellen seemed to be weighing the pros and cons of apparently sicking Dean on Kay and Kay was eyeing Ellen, trying to decide if the woman was serious. Sam couldn't quite wrap his head around it, because, sure, Dean was protective, but he wasn't that bad.

Kay shifted on her feet, playing with the waist of her jeans. "Ellen, I'll... fuck, I'll do anything you want, okay?"

"Anything?"

She rolled her eyes and held her palms up in surrender. "Yes, anything. I'll even join your goddamned Armada if that's what it takes."

Ellen raised an amused eyebrow, "Armada?"

"That's what Gordon calls it." Kay dropped her hands to her sides. "At least, that's what he calls it when he's butt ass drunk and you're nowhere around."

Sam watched them warily through his bangs as they faced off. Finally, Ellen said, "All right, but if you've been talking to Gordon, you know the rules."

"Right. You call, I heel." Ellen nodded her approval and Kay rolled her eyes. The silence stretched uncomfortably between them. Sam was starting to think now would be a good time for him to sneak off to bed before Ellen could yell at him, but then Kay opened her mouth. "You know, if I'm already in this deep, you think maybe you could leave us alone so we could..."

Ellen didn't have to say anything. Her frown deepened, her eyes narrowing and Kay mumbled to herself, stomping off, but keeping a wide berth between herself and Ellen. The back door of the Roadhouse squeaked open and slammed shut, bouncing on its hinges before closing with a rattle.

As soon as it was finished, Ellen turned on him and for a minute, Sam considered running. He really did, because he'd never seen Ellen quite that pissed off before, but he didn't actually have anywhere to go.

"Samuel Winchester, what the hell were you thinking?"

Sam shrugged, ringing his hands helplessly in front of him. "I dunno. She asked and... it didn't seem like a bad idea."

"Did it seem like a good one?" To Sam's second shrug, she dropped her arms, putting her hands on her hips expectantly. "Did you even think about it?"

After a minute, he shook his head. He really hadn't and maybe he should have, but... well, it was just sex. Dean did it all the time. Okay, maybe not all the time, but sometimes. Every now and then. Actually, now that he thought about it, for all his flirting, Dean rarely followed through.

The first inklings of shame crept over Sam and he bowed his head. "Sorry, Aunt Ellen."

Ellen's face softened and she stepped forward, putting a hand on his shoulder. It was really disconcerting to be taller than her, especially when she had the power to make him feel so incredibly small. "I'm not mad at you for wanting to experiment, Sam. That's what kids your age do, but I'd just rather you do it with other kids your own age and don't push yourself too hard or too fast. Growing up's not a race."

Sam nodded, his head still down.

"And, for the love of god, Sam, don't do it behind the weapon's shed. With Dean I just figured it was bad judgment, but now I'm beginning to suspect it's genetic. The next time I find a Winchester fornicating in the goddamned open like that, I am going to ground you both for a year."

The blush moved from his ears to down his neck and over his cheeks and he suppressed a nervous laugh. It shouldn't have been funny, but it kind of was. He should have known better, seeing as Dean and Jo had been caught some three times in this same spot while they were dating. Actually, Sam kind of suspected getting caught might have been the point, because Dean always looked far too relieved once Jo was nowhere in sight.

Ellen put her arm around his shoulder and steered him towards the house. "Although, you know, some good did come out of this. I got another soldier for the cause of keeping Dean from falling into an early grave."

Sam did laugh then, a smile spreading wide across his face. He was pretty sure that, left to his own devices, Dean could handle himself, but it was nice to know there was a safety net. Nicer still, to know that he'd had a hand in building it.