SATs...'nuff said?

Dean let out an exhausted sigh, pressing two fingers against his tightly shut eyes and inhaling the musky smell of the worn, yellowed pages of the large book in his lap. He had suspected a vengeful spirit in Jasper, Indiana and was ready to buff up the Impala for the long drive but Sam caught his shoulder on the way out, saying that he and Adam could check it out instead.

"Just stay with Natalie," Sam firmly said before walking out the door.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered under his breath, turning away from the open door. A hand raked over his mouth and chin as he clenched his jaw.

If there's somethin' strange in your neighborhood, who ya gonna call?

"My daddy!"

If it's something's weird and it won't look good, who ya gonna call?

"That's easy," Nat folded her legs underneath her small body in front of the television, a fork in one hand and Rodger in the other. "My daddy!"

Dean leaned against the entrance to the living room and cracked a smile. Her hair waved to and fro as she rocked back and forth, chiding and shaking her head at the television that had obviously got it wrong.

"Nat," He spoke up, interrupting his own thoughts. "get ready for bed."

"But daddy - "

"Now, Natalie Winchester," Dean ordered, sounding more like John that he intended.

Nat frowned, begrudgingly slamming the television set off with a careless slap and stomping past him. Stubbornness was the clearest Winchester trait right beside alcoholism. Dean wanted to mold both of those vices out of his daughter as she continued on toward adulthood.

"Daddy!"

Dean jumped out of the couch, sprinting with all his might up the stairs and down the small hallway. He wretched the florally decorated white door open to see his daughter sitting up in bed, trembling, with her stuffed lion pressed against her dewy face.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? Are you hurt?" The bed squeaked as it accommodated his weight as he pulled her into his arms.

"Daddy," Nat buried her face in his embrace, wheezing back ugly, racking sobs that stood painfully in her throat. "There's a ghost in my closet."

She thrust a limp hand toward the general vicinity of the dark, shadow-casted closet with contempt. Dean stroked her wild hair and looked up at the door which stood slightly ajar. He gently pried his daughter's fingers from his shirt and slowly eyeballed the closet.

For just a brief moment he actually believed that there was some sort of dangerous wraith lurking in the deep folds of the darkened closet but that prickly sensation didn't start up at the back of his neck. First he turned on the flowered lamp so that a homely halo of light could brighten up the darkest corners then opened the closet door, pretending to rummage around for a moment even though he didn't have to.

"There's no ghosts in here, Nat," Dean poked his head out with a reassuring smile cast toward his daughter who was shroud herself in her blanket.

"But daddy there is!" She insisted.

"Okay, Nat," Dean stepped out and stopped at the bed so she could jump into his waiting arms.

"Where're we going, daddy?"

Dean craned his neck away from Rodger's whiskers and walked toward the linen closet, turned in for storage, at the end of the hall. He supported his daughter's weight with one arm and swung open the closet door. Humming Smoke on the Water bemusedly, Dean finally caught sight on a vintage, dust-covered vacuum hidden behind a pile of blunt stakes. He carried the vacuum back to the room, easily swinging his daughter to a sitting position on the bed. His eyes looked around the bottom of the walls for an plug closest to the closet.

"Here you go, Nat," He held out the slender tube that came with the vacuum toward his daughter and motioned his head to the closet. "Remember how the Ghostbusters suck up all those ghosts? Ghosts have a weakness for these vacuums. I want you to go all around your closet and wherever else you think there's a ghost hiding and suck 'em all up into Uncle Bobby's vacuum."

Natalie hesitantly took the crevice tube from her father and entered the now brightened closet. After moments of slowly walking around for precautionary measures, she was bounding around the little room, holding the vacuum tube against her clothing and her socks and to the corners and even at Rodger's fur.

"I ain't afraid of no ghosts!" She giggled when she was totally content with the disheveled state of her closet. But at least there was no ghosts.

Daddy made sure of that.

"Daddy, look!"

Dean glanced over to see Nat holding the tube at her cheek, resulting in half her face to be lopsidedly sucked into the tube.

"I think I should call the Ghostbusters on you, kiddo," He grinned ear to ear and began to poke her stomach but before his finger could even come close, she jumped under her covers. After a moment of hesitancy, Nat peeked out from under the blankets, an appreciative smile brightening her face.

Who you gonna call?

That was as easy as pie: Daddy!

Choices for the next chapter:

1. Nat's curious about aliens

2. Nat makes up her own report card and shows Dean because he'll be doubly proud!

3. Nat finds a perfect present for Uncle Cas

Your choice :) If you have other ideas that you'd like to see PM me or leave your welcome suggestion in the review box! I recycle paper and ideas :)