Chapter 10

Serra

I could hear Levi and Glory snoring through one of the baby monitors as I passed it on my way to sit down with the fresh bottle of Jameson at the dining room table. Liberty had been asleep for about three hours and Everett was (temporarily) happily sleeping in his swing. We had been drinking, eating, and talking for the last four hours or so and I knew, just from the feel of the room, that we were only getting started.

"So we knocked down the door, started shooting at anything that was moving, and hoped for the best," Dean was saying, holding his empty glass. "There was salt everywhere and we didn't hit a damn thing."

"You guys are terrible shots," Grace said, laughing. "This one, though," she gestured at me as I set down the new bottle at the table. "She can hit you four times before you hit the ground."

"Yeah, I've seen her in action," Dean replied, tilting his head. "She's a little terrifying."

I grinned at him. "Assault with a deadly weapon," I slurred slightly, winking at him.

Grace leaned forward to open the bottle and pour another round, shaking her head. "You weren't always such a good shot, little girl."

"You shut your face," I said, glaring at her. I broke almost immediately, though, giggling and covering my mouth.

Continuing to the boys, she grinned. "Right when I graduated high school, we got attacked by some demons. They were coming at us from all around and this one," she said, pointing at me, "decided to try and take a shot at one with one of her .45s and it ricochets across the Chevelle and gets me here." Grace stood from the table and lifted her shirt to show Sam and Dean the circular scar on her hip.

"It didn't even embed," I said, defending myself. "Dad pulled it out with his fingers."

"It still fucking hurt," she answered, flicking a Cheeto at me from across the table. I leaned on Dean to try and lift my leg over the bench to sit next to him and tossed a carrot at her. It bounced off of her cheek and landed in her cleavage. Sammy let out a laugh as he watched Grace fish it back out of her shirt.

"Yeah, well," I said, finally safely sitting on the bench next to my brother-in-law. "It was good practice for when I shot you in the leg out at Sutton."

"Bitch," she growled.

"Jerk!" I exclaimed, and we both collapsed into laughter. "Dude! We should play a game!"

"Unless it's a game with 'strip' in its name, no," Dean's voice was deeper than usual, this far gone.

I slapped his shoulder. "Aw, come on. It's a good one." Grace was already shaking her head and chuckling. "Never Have I Ever!"

"What the hell is 'Never Have I Ever'?" Sammy asked, leaning across the table for the Cheetos.

I stared at Grace and nodded at the thought that she pushed at me. "It goes like this: Never have I ever…had sex." Grace and I both raised our glasses and tossed back the shot of Jameson. I glared at Dean and Sam expectantly. "You both have children. And Sammy, I nailed you about three hours ago. You've both had sex. Drink."

Dean grinned and tossed back his shot. "Alright, it's like 'Truth or Dare', without the 'Dare'."

I nodded at him. "Pretty much!"

"Alright," Grace said, pouring another round. "My turn. Never have I ever…gotten lost on a hunt." I glared at her and took a shot. Sam and Dean both laughed at me, turning to stare.

"It's not like I didn't know where I was."

"It took you three hours to get back to the car." She giggled at me as I poured myself another shot.

I took the Jameson and tilted my head. "Fine! Never have I ever slept with two different people in the same night."

Staring at me from over her shot glass, Grace tossed it back and raised her eyebrows at her husband, who also took a shot. "It's like we were meant to be," she said flirtatiously.

Laughing, I poured a new shot for Dean and Grace. "Yeah, meant to be whores."

Dean gasped mockingly. "Such language!" He stared at Sammy and grinned. "Never have I ever had sex in a pick-up truck."

Sammy tilted his head and downed the shot, grinning. I proudly drank mine as well and winked at my husband. He looked back at his brother and smiled devilishly. "Never have I ever been so drunk I couldn't stand."

I made a face and glanced at Dean as we both took a shot. Shaking my head, I gasped. "Oh man," I started, wiping my face, "I am trashed."

"Okay, shut up! My turn," Grace exclaimed, pouring more drinks. "Never have I ever…had to kill the person I was sleeping with."

Grace's face lit up as both Sam and I had to take a drink. Dean chuckled as well, watching her from across the table. She pointed at me and said, "Vampire."

He grinned back and pointed at Sammy. "Werewolf."

"It's shocking how much we have in common," I said, wiping my face with both of my hands. I was starting to weave a bit, sitting on the bench next to Dean. "Dude, I need some water."

"Lightweight," Grace muttered and got up from her seat, obviously still quite coherent and poured me a glass of water.

After she set it down in front of me, Sammy glanced at her and lifted his eyebrows. "When did you find out that you couldn't stay drunk?"

She took a deep breath and sighed, staring at me from across the table. "Right after Dad and Emery died." Gesturing to the both of us, she continued, "We had a pretty big blow out and she took off. I tried to drink our entire liquor cabinet, but it just wouldn't stick. I would feel great for about twenty minutes…then it would wear off, and I would have to down another half of a bottle, just to try again." She giggled and I knew that she was feeling the effects of the booze, at least temporarily. We had to keep her drinking.

"Too real. Dean! Go!" I said, pushing on his arm to get his attention. "Quick before she sobers up."

He laughed and poured another round of drinks. "Never have I ever spent more than one night in jail," he said, grinning. Grace and I glanced at each other and grinned, lifting our shot glasses and clinking them together over the table.

The boys watched as we downed another shot together and Sammy shook his head. "Alright, wait. We've never been in jail longer than a night, but you two have?"

"We are motherfucking bad asses," Grace slurred as she leaned her hand across his shoulder. She gripped the muscle in Sammy's arm and glanced at me, smiling suggestively. "Oh, Serra. That is nice."

"Hey!" Dean said, staring at his wife in mock jealousy.

"Shut up, shut up!" Sammy said, shaking off Dean's sentiment. "Go on. Tell us about how you are motherfucking bad asses."

Grace giggled and shook her head, so I tried to take over. "After Daddy died, we just drove and we ran out of gas in the middle of Bumfuck, Oklahoma." I paused as we both begin to giggle. "Grace said we needed gas, so I suggested stealing a car."

"So I did!" Grace continued, her voice high and girlish. "I found the keys, we drove it back to the Chevelle…she smiled at me and we started laughing again, "and I was going to siphon the gas out of the tank for us."

"And?" Dean asked, leaning forward towards his wife.

"And Lucky opened the trunk!"

Sam and Dean exchanged glances, chuckling. "And?" Sammy prompted.

Grace lowered her voice to a whisper. "And there was about a kilo of coke!"

We dissolved into a pile of laughter, lying on the table. I continued, struggling to breathe. "So the first thing she does is freak out."

"A kilo of cocaine," Grace repeated slowly, enunciating each word. "Monsters, I can deal with. Drugs apparently scare the shit out of me." She pointed at me accusingly. "You're the one that said we should put it back!"

Dean let out a bark of a laugh. "Put it back?"

"Yeah, why didn't you just leave it on the side of the road? Book it out of there?" Sammy added, putting both hands through his hair.

"I was fifteen! I didn't know!"

Turning to stare at his wife, Dean grinned. "What's your excuse?"

Grace turned to defend herself. "I was emotionally compromised! Dad had just died! We were exhausted!"

I poured Grace's shot and then spilled whiskey on the table, so I bent to lick it up. Sammy shook his head at me and I immediately raised my eyebrows at him. "What were you doing when you were fifteen? Homework? Cuddling with your wittle bwankie?" I made a mockery of him, struggling not to spill more whiskey. "Goody two-shoes over here. We were fighting to survive!"

Dean laughed and hit the table with his hand, barely keeping himself upright. "It's true. He was a pussy."

Sam looked betrayed. "Oh give me a break, you and Dad had me out in the dark with a sawed-off from the time I could walk."

"Oh, don't sound like you're some big hero. You fought us tooth and nail on hunting. Wanted nothing to do with it. It's how you ended up at Stanford." Dean grinned at him and tilted his head. "I think your wife is more of a bad ass than you ever were!"

Grace took the shot I handed her and smirked. "Them be fighting words!"

Sammy rolled his eyes and shook his head. "So finish the story. How did you end up in jail for more than one night?"

I took a deep breath and licked the whiskey off of my hand as I continued. "We tried to drive it back and Gracie was driving like a bat outta hell…we come over this hill and a highway patrol lights us up."

"No," Dean breathed, hooked into the story.

"Yeah! So he pulls us over, Grace is cool as a cucumber. I was fucking losing my mind. So she makes up this story about our cousin Marcus let us borrow the car…"

Rolling my eyes, I took over, "So the cop gets us out of the car and pats us down and starts pulling guns from every orifice. Gracie has her .45 tucked in her jeans, two knives on her ankles…"

Grace laughed and pointed. "You had the twins in your holsters and a nine tucked into your sock or something and then two blades, too." We were laughing again. "The cop just didn't know what to do with us."

"They bring us in and that's where we got free meals and a cot to share for three nights in a row."

Sammy ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. "How the hell did you get out of that?"

I could tell by the look on Grace's face that she was starting to sober up, so I gestured to her glass. She downed her shot and took a breath. "We couldn't get a hold of anyone, until Gracie remembered this guy that Dad knew. Bobby something."

Sam and Dean exchanged looks from across the table. "Bobby Singer?" Dean asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Oh my God, yeah!" I exclaimed, slamming my hand down on the table. "How did you know that?"

"He was like a father to us," Sam said quietly. "How did your dad know him?"

Grace shrugged. "I don't know. He just did. Helped us out a couple of times. In Oklahoma, he called a guy named Rufus. Sent him to bail us out and clear our records." She grinned. "Even stole our guns from lock up on our way out."

"Holy shit, Rufus?" Dean was shaking his head and laughing. "How did we know the same people and never cross paths?"

Grace spoke quietly, now completely sober. "I think we did. A couple of times, at least."

Tilting his head at her, Dean was listening carefully. "When?"

She took a deep breath and shook her head. "A gas station and then a diner. I remember your face." She smiled and winked at him. "You were hot, even back then."

Drifting to the back of his mind, Dean's eyes glazed over momentarily, trying to place Grace's face in his travels. I watched her nod at one of his memories. "That's me," she said softly. "In the rear of the diner when you walk back to get Sam's Legos." He smiled at his wife, seeing only her face. I knew Sam and I had faded away in his mind and it was so fucking sweet when he had eyes only for Grace.

"I remember you. I winked," he whispered, shaking his head slowly.

Grace nodded, smiling softly. "I know. I thought about it for days."

Rolling my eyes and filling shot glasses, I broke the mood by yelling, "Jesus fucking Christ! We get it! You're in love!" I shoved a glass towards Dean and another at Grace and continued. "Shut up! Keep drinking!"

Grace laughed and finally broke eye contact with Dean and took the shot I was pushing at her. "Fine!" she said, downing it and putting it back in front of me. "I want food, though, hold on."

"All right, I thought of another 'never have I ever'," Sammy said. "It's related to you jailbirds."

"Hit me!" I yelled, leaning over the table at Sammy. "Make it good, because I'm getting bored!"

Sam took a deep breath and said, "Never have I ever spent the night in a drunk tank."

Glancing at my sister, we made eye contact and lost it, laughing so hard that Grace had to sit down on the floor. I took my shot and continued to giggle. "Oh yeah, that was funny."

"What did you do?"

"She rode a horse into a bar. Then ordered a beer," Grace said, wiping the tears from her face. "Drunk and disorderly."

"Which is basically you all the time," Dean laughed.

We laughed more as Grace made her way back to the table, laying out more snacks from the fridge. The microwave beeped after a few minutes and she walked back to the dining room table with a giant plate of nachos. "See, this," Dean started, "this is why you're my wife."

"What, so I can serve you food?" she replied, leaning into him as he wrapped his arm around her waist. He stared up at her as she stroked his face and bent to kiss him.

"Strip poker is next," Dean muttered under his breath as he came up for air.

I was already shaking my head. "No, Grace cheats. She can hear us!"

"I won't cheat, you big baby."

She threw a deck of cards at me and I caught it. As I took them out of the box and began to shuffle, I started shaking my head. "If I end up the only one naked…"

Both of the boys were pursing their lips and nodding at me, waiting for the cards to be dealt. I looked up at Grace, gasping for effect and she giggled as she sat next to Sammy once more.

I dealt the cards and Grace poured more shots. We dug into the plate of nachos and began to play.