CROSSING PATHS

Bonnie sat at the bar, defeated. The creature she was looking for had escaped. She tapped the bar, signalling to the bar tender that she wanted, or rather needed, another drink. He handed her yet another neat scotch. She flicked her head back, feeling the liquid burn the back of her throat as it made it way into her body. She closed her eyes and remembered the look on the face of the young man that she had come here to help, but who now lay dead in a morgue a few blocks away. She quickly opened her eyes and put on a brave face, tapping the bar once again.

"Looks like you've had a smashing day." She didn't need to turn her head to know who the gruff, sultry voice of a former acquaintance behind her was. She smiled to herself, her troubles shifting to the back of her mind for the briefest of moments.

"Just peachy." She continued to stare at the bottles on the shelf in front of her.

"Well, you have the best medicine sitting right next to you." She felt him move to her side and turned her head so that she could face him. A small smile played on her lips.

"Dean Winchester." She smirked. "Funny who you see lurking around bars at this time of night."

"And yet, here you are." He sat next to her and ordered a beer from the bar tender.

"Yeah, that is funny I suppose." She looked away from him and stared at her drink, swishing it around in the glass before tipping it and her head back. She gently placed the glass back on the counter and ordered another, shifting her body to face Dean. "Where's Sammy?"

"You know Sammy, resting his over intelligent head. What's up with you?" He gestures towards the empty glass in front of her.

"Like you said, it's been a smashing day." She smiled at him, genuinely happy to see him. "What are you doing in town?"

"I think you know the answer to that already. Having some trouble with a certain bogeyman?" He almost looked worried about her. She quickly brushed off the thought. Dean Winchester was the playboy of the hunting world, she knew he didn't worry about anyone, except for Sam.

"Nothing I can't handle. Lived to fight another day, suppose that counts for something."

He nodded in agreement. He had obviously decided to drop the 20 questions. They drank together, chatting about hunts they had been on and other unimportant life moments for another hour. They had finished a bottle of whisky together and had decided to call it a night. They made their way out of the front door of the bar. The jovial mood turned serious when Dean suddenly grabbed her arm, holding her in place, in front of him.

"What happened today, what's got you shook?" Dean asked out of the blue.

Bonnie's smile faded quickly. Tears seemed to want to bust out of her eyes, but she fought them and won the battle. "Powers went on the fritz. Couldn't save the guy. He's now in the morgue."

"Shit." He looked on at her sadly. He wasn't the sentimental type, but nor was Bonnie.

"It happens, right?" He could hear her trying to make light of the burden that weighed on her soul, but he also heard her asking for an answer to the question.

"It happens, Bonnie. It sucks, but it happens." He rubbed her arm with his hand. He suddenly felt a little awkward. "You staying in a motel?"

She, was also feeling a little awkward at taking comfort in the words of Dean Winchester and just nodded, "yeah, think there is only one here."

"Want a ride?" He headed to the impala.

"Sure." She crossed her arms and walked towards the black car, sitting in the front seat as the engine roared to life. "That sound never gets old." She smiled again, breaking a bit of the tension.

"And it never will. This beauty will outlive us all." He tapped the dash before driving up the dark street with only a few working lights.