"Why did I let you talk me into this again?" I asked slumped behind the wheel of my 1970 Corvette. Genna turned up the radio and attempted to dance as "Here in You Arms" flowed from the speakers.

"Because you love me," she said, grinning widely. We passed a rest-stop sign on the side of the highway and she nudged me.

"Food break?" she asked. I sighed. You'd never know that she was practically a vacuum when it came to food just by looking at her. I still can't figure out where she puts it all.

"Yeah. We're making good time. A break won't hurt us," I said, pulling off onto the exit.

"Yay! Food!" Genna screamed, turning the radio up even more.

Yeah, sure she's a nut, but I love her all the same.

I gingerly picked up the stained menu; quick to drop is as my fingers brushed a sticky spot.

"Ugh. You sure you wanna eat here?"

Genna was extremely engrossed in her menu, scanning over prices, side dishes, appetizers, and entrees.

"Genna!"

She lifted he head up slowly, huge hazel eyes still glued to the endless variety of salads.

"Yeah," she said, far off in her little "food-heaven."

I sighed and slumped back in my seat. That's when I recognized the dark brown mussed up hair and the billowing trench coat.

"No fucking way."

He was once again with his loud-mouthed companion, except now I could clearly see the face the mouth belonged to. I had to do a double take. Green eyes that were almost 40% of his entire face, full lips, short spiky dark blonde hair. His slumped posture, plaid flannel shirt. A name flashed in my mind.

Winchester.

"Genna," I whispered, shell-shocked.

"Genna!"

"What?!" she yelled, slamming her menu on the table.

My eyes searched over the two men. No reaction.

"Shh!!" I hissed, never taking my eyes from the beautiful back of his head.

"It's him," I squeaked, raising a shaking index finger in their direction.

Genna slowly turned around.

"Oh my God," she mumbled.

"You got in a staring contest with one on the Winchesters?" Genna asked, her hazel eyes swallowing her face.

"I mean…WOW…You were actually creeped out by that. Jeeze. I wouldn't be. That man is GORGEOUS! Except he doesn't really look like a trench coat kind of guy and his eyes aren't blue…"

"Genna!" I hissed, placing a hand over her mouth. Her hands, which were waving wildly, fell limp in her lap.

"I wasn't talking about Winchester. I'm talking about the one with Winchester."

She pushed my hand away and stole another glance at Winchester and his trench-coated buddy. She turned back to face me.

"Oh," she said quietly, casting her gaze down at the table.

"Yeah," I said, smiling slightly, but not meaning it.

Genna drummed her fingers on the table top and looked around her.

Then it happened.

"Do you know how much of a legend the Winchesters are?" Her voice had raised an octave, in pitch AND volume.

"And to be here?! Right now?! With one of them here in the same place?! It's….it's…"

She clutched her chest with one heavily ringed hand.

"God! It's an HONOR!

I'm not worthy!!!!"

Yeah. I forgot to mention. Genna was also a bit of an over reactor.

"Genna!" I yelled, grabbing her by the shoulders. I know for a fact that by now people HAD to be staring. Dean Winchester and mystery tax accountant included.

"Take it easy," I said my voice softer. She stared at me, he eyes wide, and blinked rapidly.

"In and out," I reassured, motioning breathing with my hands, exaggerating the inhale and exhale movements.

Genna watched me closely and mimicked my motions.

"Good," I said.

As I calmed her down, I stole on last glance at Dean Winchester's table.

Empty.