The engine of the Impala purred as the Winchester brothers drove lazily along the blacktopped road. Houses and shops lined the streets of the town, a large sign declaring it to be named "East End" when they and first drove in. People strolled about, some in pairs, others single.
"So, where did Bobby say to meet again?" Dean asked his brother, squinting out the windshield as he turned a corner. Sam opened a map, the paper rustling as he pulled it taught. Lines and dots representing avenues and historical landmarks criss-crossed on the page, looking like one big confusing mess instead of anything that might have been slightly helpful. Tracing the dots with his eyes, he focused on a red on, a picture of a house drawn next to it.
"It says here the place is called the Bent Elbow," Sam said, "and it should be around this corner." Grumbling to himself, Dean spun the wheel, making a sharp left.
"What the heck kind of name is The Bent Elbow?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged, folding the map as best he could- it was hard to figure out which crease and fold net where.
"I don't know," he said simply, "I don't name the places." They drove along for a few minutes, Sam staring out the window, watching as residents walked by and did everyday things- nothing out of the ordinary. Gulping, Sam asked, "So, why does Bobby want to meet us?" He kept his eyes trained on the glass barrier that kept him in the car with his brother, who was now fiddling with the radio.
"Dunno," Dean said simply, settling on the classic rock station- As he usually does, Sam thought with arrogance- "All his note said was that there was a woman who wanted to meet us-"
"Woman?" Sam interrupted, "what woman?"
"He didn't say whom, just that she wanted to meet us," Dean scowled at his little brother as Aerosmith's "Highway To Hell" blared on the radio, and he couldn't help but star humming along, much to Sam's annoyance. Dean grinned- he loved annoying his brother any chance he could, no matter how small the supposed issue was. Music was one of them, seeing as Sam found it almost unbearable to listen to. But then again, Dean thought, that's the rule. Squinting out of the windshield, Dean jutted his chin down the block.
"Sammy, is that it?" he asked, catching his brother's attention, as he had currently been staring at a black cat for the past five minutes. Dean had noticed it too, but he didn't find anything extremely fascinating with it except for the fact that it had been walking funny- a bit lopsided, as if it was hit by something earlier. Shaking the thought of the cat out of his head, Dean repeated the question, unsure if Sam had heard him.
"Yeah, that's it- pull into here," he instructed, pointing out a rickety wooden sign naming the bar, as well as pointing towards the parking lot, which was hidden behind a large bush. As soon as he had parked, Dean and Sam climbed out of the car, slamming the doors behind them.
"The Bent Elbow," Dean read the sign almost wistfully, and Sam noted a sort of hopeful gleam in his brother's green eyes. Sam chuckled, kicking a rather large piece of gravel with the toe of his boot.
"What's so funny?" Dean asked. Sam shrugged.
"It's nothing," Sam laughed, "besides, Bobby will probably get annoyed with having to wait any longer, no?" Dean grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.
"What, don't wanna get grounded?" he joked, "but yeah, he'll probably blow a gasket." Nodding in agreement, the two brothers approached the doors, Dean pressing a button on the keys to the Impala. As Sam walked in, he grinned with satisfaction, hearing the click of his baby's doors locking shut. Shutting the door of the place behind him, Dean joined Sam, who was sitting in the waiting area, tapping his foot impatiently.
"So, you see Bobby?" Dean asked, rubbing his chin. There was noise everywhere- whether it was coming from the televisions (that were playing some sort of sports event) or the people deciding to make a pit-stop for a drink- it was probably one of the loudest places he had been to on Earth. Looking around the sea of people, he finally spotted the old man- he was sitting in a corner booth, a blue and white baseball cap squashed atop his head. Catching Sam's attention, he and his brother waltzed through the crowd, sliding into empty chairs.
"About time you two idjits got here," Bobby said gruffly. A beer was resting on the table, the glass slick with condensation. The chairs creaked as the brothers sat down, Dean letting his eyes roam at the customers and employees, his eyes falling on a particularly young woman working the bar. From what he could see (and there was quite a distance between them), she had dark hair that was falling don just over her shoulders, reaching chest length, and she wore a black bustier over a pair of blue jeans.
"So, you said there was a woman you wanted us to meet?" Sam asked, eyeing his brother, who was focused intensely on the bartender. Sam jabbed Dean with his elbow, "Dude, focus." Dean blinked, still not focused on the conversation between them. The bartender was wiping down the counter with a rag, the motions of her wrist completely captivating to Dean.
"Dean?" Sam tried again, this time snapping his fingers in his face. Dean shoved his hand away, pushing the chair out to get up.
"I'll get us some drinks, 'kay?" he said, Sam and Bobby staring at his back in disbelief as he weaved his way through the crowds.