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They had met her three years before at the Roadhouse. She had been a waitress, unremarkable… forgettable. She had been supposed to die with the other, yet here she was. A waitress again; now in Bumfuck, Ohio. Far away from the place they had first met.

"I'm glad you were able to make it." She said. Dean tried to remember her name.

Sam smiled. "So you were the one to call Bobby?"

"Yes. The hauntings I can handle myself. But this is a god. A can't handle a god by myself." She hadn't even glanced at Dean again after the first hello. He didn't like this.

"Understandable." Sam looked a little confused. "You didn't die at the Roadhouse… Ellen said that everyone had died."

She smiled sadly. "I tell you later tonight. Do you boys have a place to stay?" She asked.

"Not yet." Dean replied gruffly.

"Well, come stay with me. Better than a motel." She smiled kindly and rose from her chair. The bar they were currently at – the one she worked in – was atypical and not worth description. All bars tended to merge into one entity after a while. But this woman, the one that had served them and Dean had forgotten, was not dressed like most waitress vying for a tip. No she was dressed for comfort and slight professionalism, and nothing else. She wore blue jeans that were not tight, and a long sleeved green shirt that was not revealing. Dean remembered noticing this little fact the first time they had met at the Roadhouse and dismissing her for it. Dean only had time for sexy women.

"Thanks Suzie. We appreciate it." Sam said with another smile. She returned it. And Dean was still being ignored. Dean did not like indifference from any women, even the uninteresting ones.

"Give me ten minutes and we can leave." She walked to the back and out of view.

Sam turned to Dean. "So?"

"So what?" Dean asked defensively. He didn't know why this woman that he barely recalled annoyed him so much with her indifference, but she did.

"The case?" Sam said raising an eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah. We'll handle it like we always do." Dean said dismissively looking back at the doors Suzie – and what a ridicules apple pie name that was – had disappeared behind.

"We've never gone against the god of chaos. Seems pretty intense Dean."

"Sammy, calm it. We'll be fine."

It was nearing ten minutes. Suzie would come out soon. Maybe he will talk to her. Explain… explain what exactly?

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"I'll get started on dinner if you want to get settled." Suzie offered going into the kitchen. Sam followed close behind. And Dean was left with the duffel bags, standing like a dumbass in the foyer. Where exactly was he supposed to settle into anyways? So he went after them.

Sam was at the table, drinking a beer. And Suzie was at the stove, stirring something. They moved fast.

Dean moved to the fridge and opened it. It was full of beer and… treats. Little cakes and cookies and… he had died and gone to heaven. He looked over the fridge door at Suzie but she was focused on what she was cooking.

"Umm, are these homemade?" Dean asked. Suzie looked over at him.

"Yes they are. Take as much as you want. I bake when I'm bored." She smiled and went back to whatever was on the stove. Dean felt a certain amount of adoration. He felt something nudging at his shoulder. He turned around to see Sam trying to get to some of the little cakes.

"Wait your turn Sammy." Dean groused as he shoved back.

"If I wait they'll be gone within seconds." Sam shot back, reaching his long arms around Dean.

"Go away! I called dibs!"

"Boys." A reproachful voice reminded them that they were in fact adults. They looked at Suzie's smiling visage and returned a sheepish smile of their own. They took out a dish of cookies and a couple more beers and moved back to the table.

"You're stocked." Dean said raising a beer and shoving a cookie into his mouth.

"The beer?" Suzie asked.

Dean smirked in consent.

"It's not for me. Bobby told me that he was sending two hunters, so I wanted to make them feel welcome. I'm guessing I succeeded."

"Yes you did." Sam replied.

"So what's your poison?" Dean flirted. Why was he flirting all of a sudden? He hadn't the last time. But then again, he'd been distracted by Jo's ass. By Suzie's wary expression she was also confused by his tone.

"Water." She replied dryly. "And the occasional diet coke."

Her tone did not warrant further discussion. Just as well. She seemed to be done with dinner and Dean never talked with his mouth full… well at least never around a woman.

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Dean was sleeping in his own room for a change. Not so much sleeping as looking at the ceiling. But he had gotten a good four hours. Which was the longest stretch of sleep he had had for some time. He felt refreshed. He wouldn't get up though. For one, he would probably wake up Sam and Suzie, and for another, this wasn't his house. And even though Dean hadn't been raised to recognize all the social norms, walking around another person's home like it was your own was not done, even he realized that.

But then he heard the tell-tale steady creeps of footsteps on hardwood floors. Suzie's home was old, like a century old. Victorian in style and beautifully kept. The interior was soothing. Relaxed yet sophisticated, just like its owner. But it was still old and had a habit of creaking under the smallest amount of pressure.

Dean got up.

Someone was definitely walking down the stairs.

He walked the hallway and down the stairs. The kitchen light was on, he could see from the crack in the bottom of the doorway. He didn't hesitate with opening the swinging door, his gun was loaded and ready for use in his hand.

It wasn't monsters of any kind. Just Sam and Suzie. And yet… There was a burning in Dean's chest. He didn't want to put a name to the sensation, but he knew what it was. Jealousy.

"What are you two doing up?" Dean asked casually. But the accusation still lingered in the air.

Sam was unrepentant. "Talking." What did they have to talk about? This was a job, not a social call.

"About the god we're going to cap?"

"No. Just talking." Sam said shrugging. Suzie was in a nightgown, a lot more reveling than anything Dean had ever seen her in before. Her skin was pale and smooth…for the most part. Little jagged lines of raised skin were the only mars. But they didn't take away from her appearance, they added. Experiences of life. All of Dean's scars had been erased, but not Suzie's.

She saw him looking at her scars. But she didn't try to hide form his gaze, nor did she avert her eyes when Dean's own rose to meet them. "Not as good of a hunter as you Dean." His name sounded like a spell upon her lips.

"You're still alive, ain't ya?" He asked. She smiled and turned back to Sam.

"So how did you avoid the explosion?" Sam asked.

"I don't know what happened." She paused, obviously gathering her thoughts. "I was waiting for Ash to bring out the beer orders when I felt this sudden urge to go for a walk. I just needed to go for a walk, I remember feeling. It was almost painful in intensity. So I did. I'm not usually impulsive, but this time I was." She looked down at the table. Dean walked to a chair and set down.

"I was maybe a hundred feet out when the explosion went off. It startled me so much I could do nothing but fall on the ground like an idiot." She laughed mirthlessly. "I wish I had an explanation, but I don't. I wanted some fresh air, so I lived." She looked up again, her gaze distant.

"Funny how that works out." Sadness was obvious in her tone and in her eyes.

"Yeah funny." Dean got up and got a beer for Sam and himself. And grabbed a diet coke in the process. Suzie looked surprised when he handed it to her.

"Thank you." All the drinks made the same hiss when they were popped open.

There was quite. Dean tried to let it go, he really did. But the friendly glances between Sam and Suzie were downright annoying.

"You two know each other?" He tried to sound as casual as possible, but there was a clenching in his jaw that made his cheeks flex beneath his skin. They seemed surprised by the question.

"Of course we know each other, Dean. We met three years ago." Sam chuckled. Suzie said nothing.

"But you seem to know each other well." Dean continued, leaning back into his chair. He put emphasis on the well. He let his chair balance on the last two legs while he looked quizzically at the couple.

"Yeah, I guess we know each other pretty well." Sam offered.

"How well?" Dean's voice came from behind clenched teeth.

Sam gave a careless laugh. "I don't know…well." Sam turned his smile to Suzie totally dismissing Dean. "I like your house. You've made it Suzie."

"Yeah. I guess I did." Suzie was smiling, but not happy. There was still that sadness within her eyes. Her eyes were averted, looking at nothing.

"How'd you come by the house?" Sam asked.

"It was left to me. I used to rent a room here. An older woman, Mary Ann was her name, owned it. She didn't have any children…no family. So she left it to me." Suzie shrugged.

"It's really pretty." Sam smiled.

"It is… I love it." Dean liked the way she spoke – in a slow measured tone. Listening to her was soothing. His eyes rested on her lips. They were perfectly smooth, plump, the upper lip just a little fuller and a pale pink. Her lips were the only thing that could be called pretty about her. The rest of her features were too ordinary to be given the title. Her eyes were green, but not like his. Her eyes were muddied under shades of yellow and brown, making them indistinguishable. The rest of her was ordinary, average. Yet Dean was struggling to keep his eyes off of her, just like the first time they had met.

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