Sam sat across from Dean in the crowded diner, trying to concentrate on the menu the blond waitress had placed in his hands, but Dean was making it difficult. From the moment they'd sat down in the cramped booth by the window, the waitress had made a beeline straight for them, or at least, straight for Dean. She didn't really have much of anything at all to say to Sam, and he was fine with that.

She was kind of creepy, he thought. Her hair was at least three different colors, and her skirt was way too short, and she had too many buttons undone on her shirt. She sort of looked like she'd just crawled out of bed and hit the floor running.

Probably that was why Dean seemed to think she was the hottest invention since silver bullets.

Sam sighed quietly to himself. He was used to becoming invisible when he traveled with his older brother. Dean was a ladykiller, and Sam had known it for years. One look at the older boy's blinding grin, and the ladies fell down to worship in a mile-wide radius.

What Sam couldn't figure out is why it suddenly bothered him so much. He shouldn't care less what the little blond skank was whispering in Dean's ear as Sam sat there like he didn't matter. He shouldn't have cared that Dean grinned and whispered back conspiratorially where Sam couldn't hear.

He did care though. He cared, and he just felt … weird. Like he was jealous or something. It was an unfamiliar feeling, and Sam couldn't quite put his finger on it. All he knew for certain was that if she didn't take his order soon, he was going to just give up and head back to the car.

"Can I order now, please?" Sam interrupted, a little louder and more rudely than he'd intended.

The girl dialed down her desperate smile and shot him a dirty look. She reached into her pocket for her notepad. "Sure. You go right ahead, hon." She addressed him like he was 10.

"I want the western omelette with no onions, hash browns, and orange juice, please." Sam tried smiling up at her to make up for his harsh tone, but she just glared and cracked her gum and scribbled something on her pad, turning to Dean.

"And you, Dean? What can I do for you?" She asked suggestively.

But Dean was suddenly all business. "Uh, I'll have the pancakes, bacon, and the western omelet with extra onions." he said, shooting Sam a wink on the word "extra."

"You want a drink, Dean?" She purred. "Maybe a nice, hot coffee or a glass of sweet iced tea?"

"Orange juice, like Sammy's having." Dean answered, smiling at his little brother and all but ignoring the waitress.

"Sure." She said shortly, shooting Sam another look that was chock full of daggers. "Just like Sammy's." She said acidly, and Sam dropped his eyes and blushed.

Dean was instantly pissed. "Something wrong with the orange juice here?" he barked at the girl. "And that's Sam to you." He added, putting her in her place.

"Whatever." the girl uttered and strode angrily away.

"Thanks, Dean. Now she's going to spit in our drinks."

Dean grinned, "Nah, just mine, little bro." he leaned forward. "So, Dad's not gonna be back til next week, and it's summer vacation. What should we do today?"

Sam shrugged. "Dunno."

"What? You don't have a list all made out and alphabetized by the first letter of the last word?" Dean teased.

Sam suddenly looked hurt. "Why would I?" he muttered, looking out the window.

"Geez, Sam. I was just teasing. Unbunch your panties, why don't you?"

"Yeah Sam, unbunch your panties." The irritating waitress mocked him as she returned with their drinks. "Grow up a little, kid" she admonished him, setting his juice on the table. "Stop acting like a two-year-old."

Sam stared up at her in astonishment as she moved over to stand beside Dean and bumped his shoulder with her hip. "Right, Dean?"

Sam studied his brother, waiting for him to come to his defense, but when Dean suddenly smothered a chuckle and turned away, Sam lost his appetite. He slid wordlessly out of the booth and slipped out the door without sparing a glance back. He could hear the waitress tittering behind him.

He wandered across the parking lot of the diner, and his eyes settled on a park bench a few storefronts down. It was situated in front of the comic book store, and he strode purposefully down the strip mall and sat down, leaning back and closing his eyes.

God, Dean could be a jerk sometimes. It was a wonder Sam could stand him at all. Usually little things like that exchange back there didn't bother him that much. But then again, usually Dean had his back, unlike what had happened just minutes ago. Sam suddenly felt like crying, and he had no idea why.

Sitting there with his eyes closed, Sam heard someone exit the comic store behind him and stroll slowly past. He heard the person stop and come back. Then he felt them sit down beside him on the bench. Sam opened his eyes then and found himself being studied by a blond kid just about his own age.

"I'm Jeremy." The kid said, smiling. "You look like you could use a friend."

Sam shook his head and looked away. "I'm fine."

"Okay, man. Whatever." The boy said pleasantly, opening up his comic book and studying it. "I just came to get the new Beetle." He volunteered.

Sam was intrigued in spite of himself. "What's that?"

"Beetle? It's a series of comics put out by Beetle House. It's about all sorts of creepy demons and boogeymen and stuff."

Sam shuddered. Like he needed to read something like that for entertainment. He lived that shit everyday.

But Jeremy was persistent. "No, it's all good, man. They're exciting. See?" He held the book up for Sam's inspection. The cover showed some sort of monster with two heads and teeth like a shark sneaking up behind a teenaged couple on the street.

Sam just nodded, unimpressed. "Nice." He lied.

Jeremy shrugged, "Yeah, well. It beats the hell out of just hanging around the house watching tv all summer. Hey! You gonna be around long?"

Sam shook his head. "No. Not really."

Jeremy slumped, "Darn. Would have been nice to have someone to hang out with who was under a hundred."

Sam smiled at that.

Jeremy took that as encouragement. "So, you read comics much?"

"I like to read, but not comics."

"So what then?"

"Whatever I can get a hold of. But I like mysteries mostly, I guess."

Jeremy perked up. "Yeah? My dad sells those too. He runs the shop. Wanna take a look?"

Sam hesitated. If Dean came looking, he wouldn't be able to find Sam inside the comic book shop.

If he can tear himself away from Flo, Sam thought, standing up and smiling at his new friend.

"Sure." he said. "I got a few bucks."

So Sam let Jeremy lead him into the store. The blond boy pointed to a rack of books way in the back. "The mysteries and fiction and stuff, they're back there."

"Cool. Thanks." Sam said, heading deeper into the gloom as Jeremy approached the man behind the counter. "Hi Dad." He said.

The man smiled. "Hi son. Who's your friend?"

""Dunno. Hey, what's your name?" He called.

"Sam."

Jeremy's dad moved out from behind the counter and approached. "You looking for anything in particular, Sam?"

Sam shook his head. "No, not really." He said, crouching down to get a look at the books on the bottom rack. He caught his breath. "Oh! You have the Spaceport series!" He declared excitedly, pulling two books off the rack and leafing through them longingly. He looked up, "How much are they?"

Jeremy's dad smiled down at Sam's excitement. "Well, they're used, so I sell 'em for four dollars each."

"Really? But they're hardcovers." Sam couldn't believe his luck as the man just shrugged and smiled.

"Most people come in for the graphic novels. They're not too much interested in mysteries and such. It's good you found us, Sam."

Sam stood, brushing the dust off his knees. "I'll take these please, Sir."

The man's eyes lit up with that, and he laughed. "Well, you're polite for sure. But Mr. Rudy will do."

Sam nodded and handed the man the $8.00 plus tax. "Thanks, Mr. Rudy. Hey, maybe I'll be back in a day or two for another if you still have them."

"I think that's pretty much a given, Sam." the older man said. They've been back there for more than one dance already." He handed Sam his change and slipped the two books into a plain paper sack. "We'll see you next time then."

Jeremy grinned and followed Sam out. "So, I've never heard of the Spaceport Series. I take it they're pretty good?"

"Oh yeah!" Sam practically gushed. "They're set in a spaceport out west, and weird stuff always happens. There's this scientist, Gren, and his brother, Duke - he's the architect that designed the port, and they have to figure out what's going on before anyone else gets hurt. They're really good."

"Oh yeah? Hey, maybe you can let me borrow one when you're done, and I'll let your read my Beetles?"

Sam smiled, "Sure." He said, honestly glad that he'd met the boy whose dad owned the coolest bookstore on the strip. "Well, I should go. My brother's gonna be looking for me."

"Your brother? Not your mom or dad?"

"Nah, Dad works a lot." Sam answered, studiously avoiding the question about his mother. "It's mostly just me and Dean."

"Lucky!" Jeremy rolled his eyes and started back into the shop. "Well, see you around, Sam."

"Yeah, see you. Thanks!" Sam headed back the way he'd come.

Jeremy stepped back inside and watched through the window as Sam faded from sight. The older man approached him from behind the counter.

"Well? What'd you get?"

Jeremy sighed, "No parents. Just a brother - Dean. And they're not going to be in town for long. He doesn't carry much cash on him."

The man nodded. "Good. He's a nice-looking kid, Jeremy. You did good. If he works out, you get 10 percent of whatever he brings in. Sound good?"

"Sure, Mr. Rudy." Jeremy nodded, swallowing hard. In another life, he thought, Sam might have made a good friend.