The highway rolled by in a monotonous ribbon of black top and white lines. "How are you hanging in there, Sam?"

Dean glanced sideways at his brother, tried to hide the concern.

Sam was slouched down and had his head leaned back against the seat and window as much as he could. "I'm fine."

Dean's cell rang from inside his coat pocket. He raised his eyebrows in mild surprise and fished it out, spared it a glance while trying to keep his eyes on the road.

It was a blocked number. He adjusted Baby's trajectory with one hand on the wheel and squinted at the phone again.

Sam's face was a study in curiosity. He sat up and looked over. "Who is it?"

"Dunno, number is blocked." Dean flipped it open.

"Hello?" He asked gruffly, anticipating another hunter. Perhaps a call from Bobby.

It was a woman's voice. "We need people to participate in our national survey. Your help would be invaluable, sir."

Dean's brow darkened. "Listen here, bitch..." He opened his mouth to launch into some verbal abuse before he hung up the phone and the woman's voice cut him off.

"Please, Mr. Winchester. I just need a moment of your time."

Dean sat baffled for a second. He took his foot off the accelerator. "How did you even get this number? This is a private cell-" he stopped. He didn't even have the cell under his real name.

Suddenly the familiarity and slightly northern cadence of the voice clicked into place and Dean shook his head with a smile that tugged on the corners of his mouth. "I'd love to participate in your survey, ma'am."

Sam's brows knitted together and he wrinkled his nose in confusion.

"Thank you. First off do you listen to NPR?"

"No," Dean responded, his eyes on the road. "I listen to AC/DC."

"Are you a registered Democrat or Republican?"

Dean snorted, rested his tongue between his teeth and adjusted the phone to his ear. "I think all politicians are lying douchebags."

"Which candidate are you planning to vote for in November?"

"None of them."

"Do you prefer to be the spanker or the spankee?"

Dean snorted at the impertinence of the question and a genuine smile lit up his features, crinkling the corners of his eyes. He hummed and dropped his voice into a lower register. "Oh, the spankee."

Beside him, Sam looked startled and mouthed to him: What the fuck?

Dean glanced at his brother from under his long lashes and give a crooked grin and a wink.

"Blondes or brunettes?" She continued in his ear.

"Oh, I'll take them any way they come, sweetheart."

"Wrong answer."

Dean shook his head. "Blonde," he replied, playing along.

"That's better." The voice became breathy. "Do you dream about making out with blonde women on couches?"

"Incessantly," Dean purred. "Ellis, you gotta watch it. You're gonna make my pants tighter with these questions and poor Sam is sitting here with a view to the show. "

"Thanks for completing our survey." He could hear the smile in her voice.

"God, if all surveys were like this I'd complete them for a living."

Ellis laughed finally.

Dean kept his smile, adjusted the phone to the other ear and switched hands on the wheel. "What's the call for? I'm assuming it's not for phone sex- which is unfortunate."

"Dean, I wanted to let you know that John is safe."

"What?" Dean swung the car wildly to the shoulder of the highway and jammed on the brakes so quickly that Sam had to catch himself on the dashboard to avoid smacking his head on the windshield. "God, Dean!"

"You heard from him? Where is he? What's going on?"

"Calm down sweetheart. He's safe."

"That doesn't tell me squat, Ellis!"

"He was here." She replied.

"Okay," Dean frantically began to look over his shoulder for a viable spot to turn around. "We're on our way."

"He's gone."

"How long ago?"

There was a hesitation.

"How long ago? Ellis, I'm not kidding!" Dean's tone grew harsh.

"Half a day."

"Why did you wait half a fucking day to call us! Which way was he headed?"

"I don't know...Dean, calm down."

"I am freaking calm!" He yelled.

Sam grabbed the phone from his brother's shaking hand and put it between his shoulder and ear. "Ellis, it's Sam. Where is Dad?" He asked in his smooth tenor.

"He stopped in and took off. I can't give you details."

Sam's jaw clenched. "Well why not?"

Her tone grew defensive. "Don't you get mad at me too."

"We've been looking for him with no trace for months, Ellis. Dean almost died, I got hit with a freaking hex and he can't give us a call? We want to know what the hell is going on!"

"The hex is why he showed up and made sure I took care of it, Sam. He wouldn't tell me much either." Her tone was earnest, almost desperate. "I told him to call you. I tried. He didn't want me to contact you at all. I just had to let you know he was alive. He is."

The anger went out of Sam. "Okay, I guess. I know you'd tell me what you could."

"How is Dean?"

Sam glanced over at Dean's tight expression. "Pissed."

"Can you put him back on?"

"Sure."

Sam handed the phone to Dean.

"Dean, your Dad has a reason, you know that."

Dean exhaled slowly. "Yeah." He ran a hand over his face, his lip trembling a little. "Yeah."

"You'll be okay, sweetheart." She soothed.

Dean went quiet.

"Do I have to make you complete another survey?" Ellis asked, her tone suddenly teasing.

Dean paused again, closed his eyes and forced himself to get his emotions back under control. He swallowed and when he was sure his voice wouldn't betray him replied. "Maybe..."

"The spankee, huh?" Ellis asked, trying to lighten the mood. "You know what I do with bad boys, Dean? What I really do to them?" She dropped her voice into something seductive.

"Huh?" Dean asked, still distracted by the news about his father.

"I take them and bend them over the kitchen table..."

"Yeah?" Dean asked. Half interested despite himself.

"And I press them into it... and I let Taco crawl all over the back of their head."

Dean laughed.

"And then I lock them in the closet with the cat and a box of kleenex for 6 hours. So do you want to be a bad boy, Dean?"

"No." He answered. "No. I'll be good, I promise."

"You promise, what?"

"That I'll be good."

"No... Miss Parnecki. I promise, Miss Parnecki. Or at least I promise, Mistress. Jeez Dean, you are no good at this."

He blushed a little and shook his head. "Yeah, and you're awesome at it. The cat and the kleenex had me so hot. Although I wouldn't mind you bending me over that table."

"Dean! Jesus!" Sam glared at him.

"Sorry Dean, I bend you over the table, the cat walks on your head, that's just how it goes."

Dean gave Sam a sideways glance. "Sam is shooting me the most epic bitch face ever. Probably because he's never bent anyone over a table."

"Dean!"

"Okay. I should go."

Ellis went quiet. "You...take care of yourselves okay?"

"Yeah."

"Don't be a stranger. Give me a call."

"Okay." He meant nothing by the promise and he was sure that Ellis knew it.

"I'll see you around, handsome."

Dean never knew that after Ellis hung up the phone, she started to cry.

Reviews? Please? Had none on my other story...I need a pick me up. Drop me a line.