It's fate, John decides; can't possibly be anything else. Because never before in his life has his heart beat so wildly, adrenaline screaming in his veins. And sure, it might be the fact that he just came two feet away from being hit by a fucking car, but he doesn't think so.

He's staring through the windshield and her eyes are wide and wild, frightened and shaken and then she's scrambling out from behind the wheel and rushing over to him, babbling, oh my god are you ok? I'm so so sorry. I should have been paying more attention.

It's fine, he tells her, smiling, his heart in his throat, electricity in his spine. Her hair is golden and curly, down past her shoulders. She's riveting. Talking still, a mile a minute, and John wonders what she'd look like if she smiled.

I'm fine he repeats when he can get a word in edgewise, flashing her a grin that's gotten him a lot of action in the past. That your car?

Huh? She asks, confused, still incredulous that she hadn't flattened him like a pancake in the street. She glances over her shoulder at the sleek, black car that sits, still idling, in the middle of the road. Yeah. It is. Do you need a ride somewhere?

Back to your place? He asks, jokingly. She relaxes enough to finally smile, even laugh a little. It's like an epiphany. John knows, right there, in that moment, that he will marry this girl someday. He holds out his hand for her to shake. I'm John Winchester, he tells her.

Her grips is firm as she slips her hand into his, smiling shyly, but looking him square in the eye. It's nice to meet you, John. I'm Mary.