Chapter 2!

Nikki sorta meets Sam and Dean in this one, sorry it's a bit short.

Reviews are great fully accepted!

~Christanne

Nikki POV

"That's it! Get out!" Travis yelled, ushering the last few drunks out the door. Although Travis was generally a mild mannered, quiet, teddy-bear of a 25 year old, he was very intimidating when he needed to be. He slammed the glass door behind the last of the Thursday night drunken crowd. "...Fukin' drunk idiots..." He mumbled under his breath as he walked through the now empty restaurant back to his beloved laptop.

"Hey, Wendy," I said, snapping my fingers between my friends face and her phone. "Stop sexting, clean the windows." I said, trying not to laugh.

"I did it last night, your turn." She said simply, waiting for a reply as she bit her lip.

"No, you were supposed to do it last night, I did them last night." I told her, only to have her furiously texting again. I rolled my eyes and grabbed her phone from her, sick of waiting for her to send a message. She glared at me, snatching her phone back and spun around to sit on the counter, her back to me.

"Sure, I'll do it," I muttered, grabbing the glass cleaner and a rag from the cabinet in the back of the restaurant. "It's not like I still have stuff I want to do tonight, or get up at six am to open up..." I complained under my breath as I walked to the front of the building, smacking Wendy with the rag on my way out.

I walked out onto the porch, sprayed the cleaner on the rag and started the tedious task of cleaning the windows. It was easier to do them at night, mostly because some stupid drunk always threw up on them, and the other idiots got them smeared with handprints as they stumbled out.

As I wiped the glass panes, I thought. Which for me, is either very good, or very bad. It really depends. Now, my thoughts would be put in the sub-category 'Boring' under 'Good'.

I was born in Peshtigo, a small town in northern Wisconsin. When I was six weeks old I was put into the foster care system.

When I was 11, and at my thirteenth foster home, my foster family was contacted by a woman who claimed to be my great-aunt on my mothers side. When I was 12, she asked my caseworker for me to spend one weekend a month, and seven days a month during the summer with her at her home in Janesville, Pennsylvania.

That was my life until I was 17 and went to college, then, my aunt Gertrude had a stroke. In her living will, she said that if I wanted my inheritance, I was going to live in Janesville, and take care of her home while she was away.

So, I put my education on pause. The hardest decision of my life. I worked since I was 14 years old to get money into my college fund and studied my ass off in high school to end with a 4.0 to get a crap load of scholarships. I was in my final year when I had to quit. And yesterday, I got a letter saying they wouldn't keep my spot. I had six months left, and they weren't going to keep my spot.

I groaned, and was considering smashing my head threw the window. My life had turned around, it was like someone put on the emergency brake and put me in reverse.

I was going to be one of these success stories, the type of person school's would invite to speak to kids about how 'just because you start on the bottom you don't have to stay there'. Now, I was a college dropout, with no money, not life (i.e. no boyfriend), and was in a dead end job.

I heard the rumble of a truck, and in the reflection of the glass, I saw a tow truck turn the corner, a shiney, black vintage-looking car was being pulled behind it. I almost cringed. Max, the owner of the auto shop, had a habit of towing cars that weren't in the city limits. He had a permit and permission from the sheriff to tow any abandoned cars inside the city limits, but he ignored it constantly. Last time Max towed a car, you could hear Sheriff Wells yelling at him all the way at CJ's, seven buildings away from the police station. I shook my head as Max turned the corner with the car, he was gonna get it.

"HEY!" I heard a deep, severely pissed off voice yell. I spun around, and saw a tall, broad shouldered guy running down the gravel sidewalk. As he blew past CJ's, he yelled

"THAT'S MY CAR, BITCH!" I watched with a slightly amused look on my face as he turned the corner as Max had, almost falling from making such a sharp turn at such a fast rate.

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU GOING?" Another voice yelled, this one was just as deep, but had a different sound, you know? I saw another guy running down the sidewalk, this one was taller than the first guy and he was carrying a gas can.

"Hey!" I called to him, making him skid to a stop. He leaned on a street lamp, his chest heaving as he panted from running. He raised one hand to wipe his face with his jacket cuff before he looked at me.

"Cut through the alley over there, take the second right and then a left," I said, only slightly distracted; because ho-ly crap this guy was good good looking. His hair was a bit shaggy looking, and the dark brown fringe hung over his forehead in sweaty clumps. But, the fringe was short enough to leave his eyes unobscured. He had flushed cheeks from running, and a brownish smeer where he wiped his face with his less than clean jacket cuff. His features were slightly boyish, but did have a masculine element. Over all, he wasn't bad to look at. Not. At. All.

"It's a...a shortcut to the impound lot." I added, smiling awkwardly.

"Thank you," he said earnestly, giving me a quick head nod before taking off down the road, following my directions.

I smiled slightly as I turned back to the windows. It wasn't often we saw new people not drunk of their tourist asses. And none that look like that. I thought, looking quickly over my shoulder.