Okay, I know that Bobby got healed on Supernatural a few weeks ago, thanks to Crowley. So my story is no longer strictly cannon but, I'm going to continue it anyway. The reason: I had a lot of fun writing this.

Thank you to my reviewers. I always look forward to hearing from you.

Chapter Four

"Lynne!" Bobby bellowed from inside the house. "What did you do?"

Lynne rolled her eyes and headed back inside. She had been checking to make sure that her tires were properly inflated. It was one of the things she did when she and Bobby were driving each other crazy, as they had been all week.

"What's the fuss?" Lynne asked, looking around the small house.

"What did you do with my things?" Bobby yelled.

"It's called organizing." Lynne said. "I'm not surprised that you don't recognize it, given the state of clutter you're used to."

"What did you do with my things?" Bobby snarled.

"Which things?" Lynne tilted her head to one side. "If you tell me what you're looking for, I'll tell you where it is."

"My guns!" Bobby snapped.

"The smaller ones are in their original hiding places, the large ones are in the chest under your bed, except for the shotgun, which is in the secret compartment behind your closet." Lynne replied, with a proud smile.

"Did I ask you to organize my things?" Bobby said through clenched teeth.

"No." Lynne answered.

"Did I do anything that even remotely suggested that I wanted my things organized?" Bobby was grinding his teeth in an effort to leash his temper.

"Nope." Lynne replied.

"Then what in God's Green Earth made you think that organizing, cleaning, or otherwise touching my stuff was a good idea!" Bobby bellowed. He was so angry that he surged off the bed and took several steps towards Lynne.

"The fact that you're standing on your feet right now." Lynne replied with a big grin. "Even though you look like you want to kill me."

"I'm what?" Bobby asked.

"You're standing on your own two feet without any assistance from me." Lynne repeated.

Bobby looked down, and realized that she was right. His knees began to buckle.

"Woah there," Lynne said, catching Bobby before his knees hit the floor. "I think you've had enough excitement for one day Gramps.

"Let's get you back in a chair."

"Not the wheelchair." Bobby said.

"Whatever you say." Lynne answered, maneuvering Bobby into one of the kitchen chairs.

"You did this just to piss me off. Didn't you?" Bobby wanted to know.

"That was one of reasons." Lynne said. "The other reason was that I kept tripping over stuff."

"You're a strange one Kid." Bobby muttered, relaxing in his chair.

"You're pretty strange yourself." Lynne said. "Now, what do you want for dinner? I'm cooking."

"Oh no…" Bobby groaned. "Not more salad."

"Hey!" Lynne chuckled. "I don't only make salad.

"Anyway," She shrugged. "I was thinking about cornbread."

"Cornbread?" Bobby asked. "You know how to make cornbread?"

"Since I was twelve." Lynne smiled.

"Why haven't you made it before?" Bobby demanded.

"Because you were out of sugar." Lynne replied. "So I went to the store today and bought some. I take you're fine with cornbread then?"

"Yes." Bobby said. "I would sure as hell, like some cornbread."

Lynne smiled and started pulling things out of cupboards.