Chapter 1: Apple Pie

"How are you tonight, Ariadne?" One of my regulars say as I approach his table,

"Just livin' the dream, Frank." I reply with a bright smile while watching the fragrant steam roll lazily into the atmosphere as I pour his usual cup of black coffee before pouring my own.

Since agreeing to work the graveyard shift at Hank's 24 Hour Diner, I've noticed that even the tiny, pass-through nothing town of Grove Hill, Georgia has it's own share of mysterious characters that only seem to venture out of their caves under the cover of darkness. Frank DeMarc is one of them. The older man must've been nearing his eighties, yet, with a head full of snow white hair, warm, chocolaty brown eyes, and his trademark chipper personality no one would ever know about his violent past.

"So, where were we? I believe it was December 1941.." I ask, warming my hands around the simple white coffee mug.

And with my small amount of coaxing, a spark comes to Frank's eye before he's gone. Going to a distant place, almost reliving the harrowing tales of his time in a Nazi concentration camp and the horrific suffering he and his family endured. I find myself completely entranced, as though just through his words, I'm transported out of the black vinyl booth and my surroundings are not the drab diner anymore, but I'm in the camp with him. Seeing all the terrible things he witnessed.

All of sudden, the shrill, melodious chime of the door bell resonates through the empty diner, beckoning me back to reality. My eyes are apologetic as Frank is forced to stop mid sentence, but he simply nods understandingly before taking a sip of his coffee and looking out into the barren night.

By the time I remove myself from the booth, the new customer has already found a seat at the high-top counter. From behind, I can tell he is well built, quite surly, actually. The way he sits, with his shoulders hunched over, face down looking at the menu but not really seeing it.

"What can I get you?" I ask, taking in the short fawn colored hair, the layer of scruff lining his very defined jaw. It's then that I smell the hint of whiskey that lingers around this man. But, that's nothing new around here. Especially, not at 4 in the morning.

The silence that hangs in the air between is unnerving for a moment, until he finally looks up, his hazel green eyes meeting mine. I'm taken aback for only second before I manage to regain my composure, raising my eyebrows in question.

It's then, that the left corner of his plump lips tug upwards ever so faintly, and his eyes seem to catch fire as they move over me. They were wild eyes, much like Frank's when he was deep in one of his stories, like the eyes of a man who has seen things far beyond his years.

"Well," He pauses, eyeing my enamel name tag intently,

"Ariadne.." Just the way my name rolls off his tongue is enough to send a whirlwind of butterflies fluttering through my intestines, "I will have a slice of your famous apple pie, please."

The handsome man slides the menu towards me with a confident smile and wink. This sparks a while new feeling, definitely a lot lower than my stomach. I can my feel my pale cheeks flush with heat and within seconds the temperature seems to rise around us, but I can't tell if it's a actual occurrence or I'm just making it up in my head.

Only a moment later, I set the warm plate in front of him and cup a coffee just to the side of that. As much I don't want to be around this stranger, I can't seem to talk myself into straying from him.

"So, what's your name mister?" I ask, innocently wiping the already clean counter top.

My reply is given with yet another crooked smile as his big hand extends towards me, "Dean Winchester."

Thank you for reading the very first chapter in my VERY FIRST Supernatural fanfic! Of course, reviews are greatly appreciated :) DISCLAIMER: a little M rated material will be part of the future chapters, if that's not what you're into then read no further! Also, I own nothing besides my own characters.

XOXO -SupNat01