Colt

"Show off."

Angela looked at Sam with a slight smirk as she tied up her horse. She tried not to laugh at the hat Dean got him but she did warn them both that Dean's wardrobe choice was not the same as it was in Colt's time. Hers surprisingly lasted quite a long time and she looked like she belonged. She patted Thunder of the Sky on the back. She had ridden her old friend bareback after giving her customary whistle and went with Sam to pay a visit to another old friend. She replied, "Experience Sam. Besides, Thunder doesn't like saddles."

As if to agree, the ebony black horse gave a slight rumble. Sam gave it a look. It was like being with Starkhaven again. He replied, "Fine, Sheriff. Lead the way." He grinned at her to let her know that he was teasing her. He also motioned towards the graves and he noticed that she had picked up the smell of sulfur.

Angela gave wry grin as she led the way into the cabin where her old friend was holed up in and finishing his work. At least she didn't have to worry about running into her younger self. She opened the door and became amused when a gun was pointed at her. She said, "You really think that is going to work?"

"Maybe," came the reply.

Angela chuckled, "The last time we met, you told me to do two things. One was to get a skirt and the other was to catch a husband." She looked at the gunman with a look of confidence even though she sense Sam was wondering if she was crazy or not.

"That's right and you told me to stick it." The man smiled, "Well it looks like you listened to me on one point. The other remains to be seen. It's good to see you Angie."

Angela's chuckle turned into a laugh. "It's good to see you too Sammy Colt."

"You look different."

"That's because I'm about two hundred years from the future and the me in this time is making her way west to help on a special project," Angela replied. She remembered this version of Colt very well so she could risk it.

~0~0~

Samuel Colt looked at the women that claimed she was from the future. He didn't believe it but after hearing her talk and then seeing that weird contraption of her husband's, he was willing to listen. He was getting out though. He had enough and he made that clear to the both of them. She though was still just as stubborn. "No."

"Sammy, you spent your whole life on this job and hell the one accomplishment everyone ends up remembering you for is the fact that you invented the .45 Colt." Angela knew that revealing too much could change events but it wasn't like people didn't already know that he was a gunsmith. "The only thing that people like me and Sam have of anything different is your journals."

"That and your years of experience. You claim to be two hundred years from the future and yet you look just like the day I saw you in that damn alley with them demons," Samuel Colt replied.

"Yeah but who taught me to be a better hunter?"

"Don't kid yourself and go get that skirt."

Angela gave a slight eye roll of tolerance and turned to leave the cabin. "I'll do a quick check of the perimeter and then we'll be on our way… if you'll let us have the Colt." She then left, her boots clanking on the wooden floor.

Sam was left with Samuel Colt who was staring at him like he wanted to shoot him. He asked, "Something wrong?"

"What I'm trying to figure out is how in the hell she managed to snag a husband like you. Always knew she would marry a hunter," Samuel Colt muttered as he opened up another bottle of whiskey and pulled out a couple of glasses. He could afford to be polite.

Sam felt like he swallowed a goldfish. He replied, "Um… we're not married."

"Don't lie son," Colt replied as he pushed a glass towards Sam. "I know that you two are together."

"Well we are but not married…"

"Don't even bring up the term dalliance." Colt pointed a warning finger at Sam. He down his glass and poured another. "She's too good a girl to be labeled that. Nah, better to think of ya two as married. I don't think I like the world you come from."

Sam wisely said nothing about that. He did take a small sip. He then asked, "So can we use the Colt?"

Colt eyed Sam. He was smart and knew when to pursue a line of thought and when to let it lie. She chose well and he was pleased that she had taken his advice. Maybe this young'un needed a lesson too. He poured more whiskey and said, "She is like a colt. Very wild and free and loves running across the plains. She was not built to be a pony cart horse. I think you know that."

Sam thought this was the most bizarre conversation he had. Colt didn't even know him and he was already assuming things and giving relationship advice. "Umm…"

"Don't answer. Just let me say my piece. She's a good girl… better than the hypocrites she was saving when I met her. Don't let anyone tell you different. Not even yourself."

By that time, Angela had come back from making sure that Colt would be all right. How she knew that Colt would let them have his gun was something Sam wasn't going to question. He knew that she made relationships with people whether she wanted to or not. Some were good and some were not so good. Yet why few assumed they knew about them and felt the need to comment on it, he had no clear answer and probably wouldn't for a while as he holstered the Colt and climbed back on his horse. They had to get back to Dean.

"I'll race you."

Later they had a laugh at the package they got back in their own time. Sam was still embarrassed at what the old gunsmith referred to his relationship as and Dean wouldn't shut up about it. At least she got back at Dean for that.