Where The Wild Things Are

by MarionLuth

As Sam & Dean investigate a young singer, who shares their Winchester name & face, their lives collide. And...she's hiding a dangerous secret. A Supernatural dramedy deeply developed & richly written, with strong canon characters. Angels, demons, the earth's only Nephilim, Lucifer, Crowley, Jody Mills, Claire, Alex, the boys & a teen girl with the heart of an angel. Spanking.

24. Where the Buffaloes Roam

Chapter 24

Where the Buffaloes Roam

Title Credit: Lyrics from the song, Jimmy, by Moriarty (Gee Whiz but This Is a Lonesome Town, 2007)

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"That's good. How do you feel?" Cas asked Amber, as they both stood in her room.

Allowing her eyes to defocus on the wall as she did an internal scan of herself, Amber looked up at Cas, her smile spreading. "I feel fine. Only a little tired this time."

"That's to be expected. That was your third consecutive teleportation. You're new to this and it will take a while until it doesn't have a significant toll on you. Did you have trouble getting here? Did it take longer than the first time you tried?"

Shaking her head Amber replied, "No, I think it happened faster. I focused on the destination, just like you told me to and then channelled all of my energy to get my body there."

"You will find this same technique will be the same for anything else you learn to do. Will, and the direction of focused will, is the nature of energy."

"Um, Ok. Hey Cas, how come this doesn't feel like flying? I thought you said you couldn't teleport 'cause your wings got burned, but I don't have wings and I don't feel like I'm flying when doing this."

"You don't see your wings. That doesn't mean they aren't there. Just like angels, nephilims have wings, too. But they don't work the way birds' wings do. This all has to do with our grace. The wings are necessary, but it's the grace inside you that makes them work," Castiel attempted to explain.

Amber's eyes enlarged. "I wanna see them. Can you make that happen?"

His face remaining serious, the angel shook his head. "No. You might be able to make others see them once you gain complete control of your powers. But I wouldn't attempt to do that for a long while. A little too much "showing" and you might burn human eyes out or kill a person."

Castiel watched as the impish excitement in Amber's eyes only increased, and he cocked his head to the side in concern.

"Those words were an attempt to discourage you."

Flashing him her cutest grin, she shrugged, "Better luck next time! Now get back to the training room, I wanna try this again!"

"Are you sure you're up for it?" Castiel asked, his concern obvious in his voice.

"Yes, I feel fine. C'mon! Let's go!"

When the angel walked out of her room, closing her door, Amber decided to make a shortstop before teleporting back to their usual training room. Closing her eyes she pulled her focus to her breath and then the garage. A second later this increasingly familiar feeling engulfed her in a pleasant heat, lifting her off of her feet for a split second, followed by her feet connecting with solid ground. Opening her eyes she looked around her and clapped her hands excitedly seeing she had made it to the bunker's garage. Feeling giddy with this success, she immediately teleported to the training room without taking a break. Cas had instructed her to rest before attempting this and she'd dismissed this in the excitement of her new-found skill. Forgivable in itself, but when she opened her eyes, she found herself feeling disoriented and a bit dizzy. Looking around her she didn't see Cas or the training room, but her own bedroom.

"Crap," she mumbled. Not letting this spoil her mood she shrugged and walked out of the room and towards the training room, right as Cas was stepping out of it, face worried.

"Are you alright? It took you awhile this time around," he asked, his tone concerned.

Grinning Amber said, "'Cause this time I zapped to the garage!"

Castiel's eyebrows rose surprised. "That's almost two levels above, Amber!"

Reading the pleased surprise in the angel's tone, Amber walked up to him and hugged him tightly.

"I did it, Cas!"

Returning the hug in his usual awkward manner, the angel nodded. "Yes, you did. And a lot faster than I'd expected!"

Breaking the embrace, Amber rushed past the angel and into the training room with the angel following closely behind.

"Can we try outside the bunker now?" Amber called out to the trailing angel as he was entering the training room.

"No!" Cas walked into the training room with the anticipation that he'd have to curb her exuberance while encouraging her continued cooperation...and this was likely to be tricky.

Claire, who'd walked out of the kitchen into the hallway just as Amber hugged Castiel, stood still, stiffly watching this interaction unfold. She rolled her eyes and tried to ignore the bitterness she felt at the image of her father's body hugging the other girl, the two of them obviously having shared a successful training session or whatever. She still had no idea what they did in training. With her and Amber having made up, sort of, over the past two weeks after she'd tipped Dean off about Amber being out of the bunker, Claire had tried to bury this feeling of annoyance and jealousy. It was really hard...especially in the face of this barrage of what she didn't have. She didn't have a dad and Amber had two.

"Hey, Barbie!"

Turning to see Dean exiting his room as she approached her own door, Claire managed to keep from smiling at the use of the nickname. "Yeah?" She asked in a neutral tone.

"We're heading out in thirty. Get ready."

"Going where?" Claire asked, surprised.

"Out. Shopping, lunch, getting some air. You, me, Sam, and Amber. Now go. And make it snappy."

Not having any objections to this, and mildly interested, Claire simply turned towards her room. It would be good to get out. Very good.

Dean, continuing down the hallway to the training room, peeked inside in time to hear Cas instructing Amber.

"You're doing great, Amber. You're progressing better than expected, but that doesn't mean you can start teleporting without me, Sam or Dean knowing you're practicing. We need to be ready to come get you if need be. You need to remember that even if it doesn't always feel like it, your power is still new to you and thus unstable."

"Listen to the man," Dean said, with a lopsided smirk. "He used to wear a halo."

"And how does this make his opinion more legitimate? Aren't angels dicks?"

"Yeah they are. But it adds imagery," Dean smirked. His face getting serious he asked, "So, how did it go?"

"I lost a foot at some point, but thank god for healing, it grew right back!" Amber said, her face serious.

Dean's face suspicious and horrified at the same time, he turned to Cas.

"Amber's joking, Dean."

Amber rolled her eyes, but her smile widened. "The fact that the halo guy needed to spell this out for you… Damn, Dean! You're getting rusty!"

"And you're getting cocky! Report!" Dean answered, not bothering to hide his amusement, but still expecting to be briefed on her progress.

"Amber has been able to successfully teleport within the bunker four times in a row. She did a fifth time and ended up in an unintended part of the bunker. So, as it stands, her limit is four in a row before she gets tired." Cas delivered this update in a level tone, not sounding particularly impressed as he delivered these exciting news.

"It sounds so lame when you say it like that," Amber complained. "The fourth time, I made it to garage level! That's big! And, I keep telling him I can go further away, but he won't let me try!"

"And he's right," Dean added, turning from listening to Cas to facing Amber. Amber found herself frowning at Dean's squashing of her progress. It felt like her fireworks had a bucket of water thrown on them...and all that Dean left was the miserable trail of smoke rising in the air. It was deflating. Dean always did this.

"Cut the drama, Amber. You're doing great. Keep listening to Cas and you'll get to zap further when he thinks it's safe. Now fix your face, 'cause we're going out.

"Out?" Amber asked, excitement immediately returning.

"Yeah. Grocery shopping, lunch… You, me, Sam, and Claire. They're already getting ready. We leave in thirty, so you'd better hurry up."

"Does she have to come with?" Amber asked, face scrunching up a bit.

"Hey, play nice! I don't know what's the beef between you two, but you'd better sort it out," was Dean's only answer.

Frowning, Amber didn't like any of this. How was she going to 'sort out' feeling betrayed.

Turning to Cas Amber asked, "Will you come with?" Maybe if the angel was with them she'd get some backup. And Claire would be annoyed.

"No, Amber. I think it's best for the four of you to spend some time together. I have some investigation to do. There has been some suspicious activity near here. I'm going to check it out and see if it is something we need to be concerned about."

"Aw, that's too bad. We really need to get you out of here for some fun at some point," Amber commented. Disappointed that her plan wouldn't work out, Amber decided she wouldn't let the blonde menace screw this up for her. Outings were rare and she'd enjoy this no matter what.

"Anyways, I'm off to get ready. See you later, Cas."

Watching the girl bolting out of the room Dean smirked as he turned to the angel. "I can't believe she used to call you a 'guard-peacock' not two months ago."

"Don't forget the 'overgrown pigeon'," Castiel reminded him in his most serious tone, his face earnest.

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Still finishing her last bite, Amber groaned as she reached into her jean's pocket, taking out her ringing phone. She contemplated ignoring it, no matter what the caller ID read. She needed nothing to distract her from her burger and fries. Glancing at her screen, her eyebrows rose in surprise. Well, maybe she could take a five-minute break.

"Hey, guys, I need to take this," she informed Sam and Dean who were already looking up to see who was calling.

"Who's calling?" was Dean's habitual response.

"None of your business," Amber answered, annoyed.

"You wanna lose your phone or try that again?" Dean asked, with a raised eyebrow.

Not wanting to miss this opportunity to talk with Kyle, especially after not hearing from him since accidently teleporting to Target, Amber swallowed down the colorful response she wanted to shove in Dean's face. "It's Kyle, okay? I won't even go outside the diner. I just need some privacy!"

Sam watched Dean's controlling nature play out. God, Dean could be so hard on Amber and Claire. Sometimes, Sam had even more empathy for the girls.

Not knowing how he felt about this Kyle douche, Dean was considering his next objection when Sam intevened.

"Amber, it's fine as long as you don't leave the diner. Why don't you go over near the old wall phone?" Sam pointed to this antiquated feature still present in many diners in the midwest. Dean looked at Sam, taken back by his younger brother taking charge over this. Sam, neither looking at Dean nor acknowledging having taken the authority right out from under him, continued speaking to Amber.

"This way you can get some privacy and we can still see you."

Not waiting for Dean to object, Amber shot to her feet and left the table, her phone in hand.

Watching Amber take off like a shot, Claire simply remarked, "Sam 1, Dean 0," and continued munching her fries. This earned her a frown from Dean. Claire merely smirked and made a loud slurping sound through the straw while sipping on her drink, looking up to see how this 'tennis match' between the brothers was going.

Amber picked up her speed. Out of earshot of the table, she could shed the responsibility of overhearing Dean countermand Sam's permission. She had plausible deniability.

Settling into the chair sitting next to the phone booth, Amber brought the phone to her ear.

"Took you long enough," Amber broke the silence as she spoke into the phone.

"You could pick up the phone, too, you know," came Kyle's response.

"How did Reno go? How's Josh?" She immediately asked.

"Alive," Kyle remarked drily. "And not what I called you for. Though, I'm glad to hear you haven't spoken to him."

"Oh, you're glad?" Amber found herself smirking at that. Not waiting for an answer, she asked, "What did you call me for, Kyle? Do you happen to know I'm out and about again?"

"Maybe. But that's not why I called. You're not alone this time, after all."

Glancing around her Amber's face grew serious. "Are you here? How the hell do you know that?"

"I'm not where you're at, no. But I'm around town. And I wanna see you. Talk Reno and catch up."

"Not happening. I'm with my family. You remember them, right? I could always try to sneak out and see you alone later though…"

"Not happening," Kyle was throwing Amber's words back at her. "Just… Just text me an address if you find an opportunity, alright?" Kyle really needed to see her. Not just for the much needed damage control after their last couple of confrontations. Not just because those were his orders...that ship had sailed after all. He had missed her. He needed to get close to her even for a minute.

"Fine. But if I can't make it I'm gonna need you to call me and tell me what happened with Josh and that whole situation, alright?" Amber pressed on.

"Deal. I'll be waiting for your text."

"And then you'll do what? Pop up the second I text you?"

"Won't be the first time."

Eyes rolling at his smug tone, Amber ended the call without another word and headed back to their table. She glanced at Dean's annoyed expression, but said nothing, focusing her attention on her burger.

"So, how's Kyle?" Dean asked, sarcastically. "Taken any bullets lately?"

Amber glanced up at Dean's face, annoyed at him. "You'd be the first suspect on my list, so don't leave town."

"What did he want?" Dean pressed on, still running interference between Amber and any potential boyfriends.

"Just to talk," Amber answered curtly.

"Right… just to talk. That sounds like him," was Dean's scoff.

Sending him a warning glare, Amber asked in a heated tone, "Will you just drop it? He called to talk! That's what friends do!"

"Oh, he's your friend now?" Dean immediately asked.

"No! He's more than my friend, but that's not up for discussion."

"Oh, that's not up for discussion? Who'd you think you're talking to?"

Dean's mouth, a tight line of concentrated frustration, his brow lowered over his eyes, glaring.

Claire slurped at her drink loudly again. "Dean 0 - Kyle definitely scored!"

With a flash of his eyes, Dean looked at Claire. That Kyle douche wasn't scoring on his watch.

Amber sent Claire a murderous glare for the comment. They were acting civilly, but they weren't in a good place. That's a remark she'd accept from Ty. Hell, she'd high-five Ty if he'd come up with that line. But right now, coming from Claire...this was just annoying. What was she trying to do? Aggravate Dean even more? Unfazed, Claire's gaze didn't falter as she scowled at Amber.

Sam, clearing his throat, clanked his fork and knife loudly on his plate.

"I think that's enough. All of you! Dean, Amber has a right to her privacy. There's no reason to make a big deal out of this right here and now. Let's not spoil a perfectly good day over something like this, alright?" Sam had noticed the dirty looks between the girls, but didn't deem it wise to say anything about that right now. He'd get his chance later, when he'd be alone with Amber.

Dean grumbled, but remained silent and so did Amber. His thoughts trailed to Kyle and how he hated the idea of him around his little sister. After Amber's trip to Jody's, when she'd told them about being upset when Kyle hadn't tried to see her again, after her birthday, he'd been relieved. One less thing to worry about. But Kyle calling her a couple nights ago, and calling her now, with Amber so eager to talk to him… well, this wasn't great.

Amber picked at her fried zucchini, munching with a pensive expression. Dean was as annoying and bossy as ever, but this was old news. What really burned her up was how much she caught herself wishing to see Kyle. He was hiding stuff from her. He was much more than he said he was, he had an agenda… and yet here she was, her mind racing to find a way to meet with him.

And there was the truth, she was missing him. Missing them together in their simpler moments. Their moments in the forest the night they met, their short make out session outside Jody's garage the day after. The moments at her birthday party when he gave her that amber-handled silver knife. She missed this part of him. This part of them. And it bugged her that she did.

Claire, smirking as she finished another bite, watched in rapted amusement this whole power dynamic between the brothers, Amber, and the invisible Kyle. If she was suspicious about Dean and Amber not being father and daughter before, she was almost certain of it now. If Dean was really Amber's dad, there was no way Sam would be able to overrule Dean like this...and Dean just accepted it. And yet Dean's whole reaction was exactly what she'd expect from an overbearing father. What the hell was going on?

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"Do you have this in a .12 gauge?"

Matt Crowder, the gun store owner, a fourth generation Kansan of Southern German and Arapaho heritage, smiled and nodded at the tall man standing in front of him. Turning to get the requested shotgun, he was smiling to himself. It looked like the next generation was getting their first gun. Handing it over he couldn't help but feel good at the image of the rugged man and his teenage daughter. He knew this guy, he'd come in before. Always kept to himself, but boy, did he know his weaponry. Matt respected this. Remembering his own upbringing, it warmed his heart whenever he saw parents and children hunting together. His own father had introduced him to pheasant hunting and he'd never looked back. This Winchester Super-X Pump Field .12 Gauge Pump-Action Shotgun would work very well for this girl.

Claire, excited, watched as the man handed Dean the shotgun. "Damn! This is gonna do some real good damage, isn't it?" The glint in her eye was sort of unnerving to the gun store owner.

Matt turned to look at her, expression shocked, which made Claire shift her expression, plastering on her cutest smile.

"To, like, birds and stuff...obviously," she offered in a sweet tone that made Dean snort. "I'm not a bird person. Creepy, feathery things… Hitchcock and all…"

"Thanks, pal!" Dean intervened, trying not to laugh at the man's expression. "We'll call you if we need anything else."

Claire watched the guy walking away to help some other customer. Turning to Dean she asked, "You had to have a Winchester didn't you?"

Smug smirk, Dean shrugged. "Who knows… He might be family. Plus, a Winchester carrying a Winchester shotgun… That's a conversation starter right there."

Chuckling, Claire found this very amusing and, for a moment, forgot her beef with Dean. She remembered Jody's words about how fun he could be and wondered if she had actually known what she was talking about.

"C'mon! Give me! I wanna feel it," she said eagerly.

Dean, handing over the shotgun, watched her take it, her well practiced grip and stance. "Nice grip there, Claire."

"I know my way around guns," she quipped smugly.

"Yeah… You're a veteran," Dean answered with a snarky chuckle.

Eyeing him suspiciously, for his lack of ominous glares, Claire asked him, "So, when did you shoot a gun for the first time?"

"I was nine. Dad gave me a Smith & Wesson .45. It had a great grip."

Claire's low whistle punctuated how impressed she was at how young Dean had started toting guns.

"Damn! Nine? That's young even for Winchester standards."

"There's no such thing as too young for Winchester standards, kid. Not where John Winchester was concerned," was Dean's pragmatic response.

"What about you? Fifteen I guess? While you were living with Randy?"

Claire's eyes darkened at the memory. Dean had forgiven her about the Randy fiasco, but she didn't know if she'd ever be able to forgive herself.

"Yeah," was her laconic response.

Dean read her discomfort and reached for the shotgun. Taking it from her he left it on the counter in front of them and walked a few steps away to a knife display.

Claire followed him, the two of them standing next to each other, peering at the assortment of different knives.

"What about your daughter?" Claire asked, the last word snarkily emphasized.

Dean shot her a look, but kept his tone light, not taking her bait.

"A couple days after she came to live with us. Not much choice there. She's in the life now. And you two need to cut the cold war crap. I told her and I'm telling you."

Claire didn't acknowledge his words. She kept her eyes on the display, her thoughts trailing.

She was so annoyed that they kept up their bogus father-daughter act. Deciding she didn't want to spoil the mood and ruin this fun time with yet another fight, especially not over Amber, Claire narrowed her focus to looking at the knives. She hoped Dean would drop the subject.

Staring into the case, her gaze focused on a Buck 124 hunting knife, her eyes lit up. She looked at it practically drooling.

Dean, noticing this, commented, "You like knives. That pig poker you brought to the bunker, kind of nice."

"Kind of nice, my ass! That's a Randall you asshat. Do you even know what a Randall is?"

Dean did know what a Randall was and he respected that Claire did, too.

"Yeah. They're great knives. And too big for your grip."

This was all he'd throw out. Egging her on was fun. He'd wind her up and let her spin. Fun times.

"Wanna see me handling it? Just give it back and I'd be happy to show you how I can handle that 'big knife'."

"Nice try," Dean smirked. "You're not getting that back till you actually need it."

"And when will that be?"

"When you go back to Jody's or when we go hunting. Whichever happens first," Dean answered evenly.

"Hey, if I'm stuck with you guys for so long there'd better be a hunt," Claire snapped.

"Cool it, kid. Keep playing nice like you have these last two past couple of weeks and we'll make it happen."

Claire glanced at him, surprised. No angry response, no glares, no threats? He had noticed she'd been playing nice? She wasn't sure if she was happy or disgruntled by that, but if it meant she'd go hunting…well that was all that mattered. She felt thrown off by this side of Dean. Jody's words pushed their way to the front of her mind, and made her shift her weight from side to side. Damn it, Jody! Swallowing down with some difficulty, keeping her eyes trained on the display's knives, she cleared her throat. "Dean?"

"Shoot."

"I'm… I'm sorry. For taking the Impala and leaving like that."

There. She said it. Eyes stubbornly pinned on the knives in front of her, she held her breath, waiting for his answer.

Dean, surprised, listened, keeping his own eyes on the knives in the case. That was the last thing he'd expected her to say. His lips twitching in a short-lived smile, he simply answered, "We're cool, kid."

Claire hadn't known she was going to say this, and she certainly didn't know what to expect from Dean, but moving on seamlessly from that episode, this wasn't what she'd have expected given the turmoil from two weeks ago.

Her silence was her acceptance of his words and their good standing with each other. This was a clean slate she hadn't known she needed with him, and she had.

"So, you want to go sight in that shotgun, you know, for general handling?" The beauty of a shotgun wasn't its precision, but it's spread of shot. In an emergency, just point and shoot. Handling and feel became the individual nuances. And this firearms store had an adjacent firing range so customers could see how a gun felt before they purchased. Dean thought this would not only be useful, but Claire would enjoy this and the two of them could have a 'moment'.

"Hell, yeah!"

"Go get it, Barbie. I'll give 'em my license to hold while we try it out. I'll meet you up at the counter before we head out to the gun range."

Eyes shining, Claire glanced back at Dean, a veiled look of gratitude on her face. She wasn't giving away her full faith, but she offered guarded enthusiasm.

Fair enough, he'd accept this small step forward.

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Sam always enjoyed this book store. Finding it open, now THAT was the trick.

For whatever reason, only one out of every three times he'd stopped by, it had been open. Those rare times he'd found it open, the deep variety of esoteric books and mythic lore struck him as not belonging in Kansas. Nothing of esoteric origin belonged in Kansas!

This place was one of those stores people wouldn't notice, unless they knew it was there. It was like this bookstore had an enchantment on it. And these handful of inspirational experiences were what kept Sam coming back. And today the old, worn sign hanging in the door's window read 'Open'.

Aside from the leaded glass window set into its heavy wooden front door, the store had no windows; no eye-catching store sign, nada. It was a weathered, old building in need of painting and repair, like everything else in town. It was hidden in plain view and held some of the oldest occult books in the US. Sam had visited it numerous times in the last couple of years and he never left empty-handed. Even with the bunker's vast library, this bookstore always added a primary resource to its impressive collection.

"You sure this is actually a store?" Looking through the leaded glass window, unimpressed by what she was finding, Amber questioned her brother's discernment.

"And that it's actually safe? 'Cause this right here, is creepy!" She had been in a foul mood ever since they left the diner. Not because she didn't like spending time with Sam. But because Dean had opted to ask Claire to go with him to the gun-shop instead of her. Now, Amber preferred bookstores to gun-shops. But she sure as hell didn't like that Dean didn't even ask her to go with him. She'd have said no, but she wanted him to have asked her first and then settle with Claire when she'd refuse.

"Trust me, you're gonna love this," Sam smiled while pushing the heavy door open, causing the small bell hanging in the inside to ring.

Amber, doubting his words, followed close behind him. Her eyes followed the swirls of dust that danced in the stream of sunlight slipping inside from the opened door. Stepping inside, before anything else registering, she noticed the smell; the smell of old paper and ink, of worn leather, dust, and a hint of mold. The door squeaked as it closed behind them, slamming against the small bell once again. It had an angry ring. Once again, the store was engulfed in the dim, incandescent glow from the single bare bulbs that hung from the ceiling.

Amber looked around her, surprised. She'd never been in a bookstore like this one before. There was no coziness in here. No decorations, no armchairs, no labeled aisles lined with shiny-covered books. No coffee house. It was a large space lined with old wooden tables and tall bookcases up to the ceiling. Stacks of books covered every possible surface. From plastic milk carton boxes overflowing to stacks on the floor to small mountains on tables and shelves. Dust, having settled on every surface, was hovering in the air, and found a flat surface to settle on...well...everywhere. She glanced to her left when she noticed movement and only then realised there was some sort of counter, also buried in books, with an old-looking cash register on it. Behind it, a chubby, old man in his sixties was scowling at them behind his glasses.

"Hey there, Mr. Spencer," Sam called out, with a nod.

The old man huffed. He had actually huffed...and was looking annoyed at their presence. Amber looked at Sam, disbelievingly.

"He grows on you," Sam stated simply.

"How will we find anything in here?" Amber asked, glancing around her with a helpless look.

"Left corner over there," Sam was pointing to one of the heavily loaded tables, "Magic books are there. Lore related books are over there," he pointed to their right on a wall lined with shelves of books going up to the ceiling.

"Anything you see in boxes is unsorted. So definitely check a couple out. Sometimes you'll find great gems. The bookcases back there are filled with anything from literature to old magazines and children's books. Basically anything that's not occult."

Amber looked to where he'd pointed. It was at the far end of the shop, a darker area with canyons of tall bookcases lined one next to the other, creating the closest thing to aisles this bookstore had. Even from across the room, Amber noticed that area was very concealed. She couldn't see behind the bookcases. Hoping Sam would get lost in his book-searching long enough for her to call Kyle, that area, right there could be her hiding spot and offer her some privacy to call Kyle.

"Let's start from the occult section. I haven't come here in months. I'm sure Mr. Spencer has added to his collection," Sam said excitedly, leading the way.

Amber followed him, still glancing around them in disbelief. When they reached a corner of the shop that Sam seemed very familiar with, walking to the table closest to her, she touched the first book she saw. It was a leather tome about herbs and their magical use. Her eyes danced across the titles that were stacked below this book, The Golden Bough, Religion of the Semites, The Eternal Return: An Essay by Mircea Eliade, and a copy of The Book of Law by Aleister Crowley. This was all so mesmerizing and...an unimaginable wonder. Amber found herself not wishing to move, her eyes casting across so many titles and her consciousness shifting...as if the titles alone held the power to impart wisdom by their mere reading.

As Amber read these titles, her mind was opening to the deeper possibilities, the deeper realms of existence, of this world. And she was glimpsing a wee bit of Sam's affinity for the hidden, for the occult.

She stood still as these feelings, thoughts and images flooded her unconscious. She felt herself being enlightened by this collective repository of human exploration of the divine. Her mind was in a sort of fugue-state. The previous world she knew, this apparent reality, was cracking apart. It would be only later that she would reflect on this moment and only then get a glimpse of why Sam loved this place.

Picking up the first book she'd spotted, she opened the heavy cover and started flipping through its worn yellow-tinted pages. She traced her fingers along the lines, admiring the beautiful font this book had been printed in. Every other page a detailed drawing of a herb or flower appeared. The text included detailed medical and magical uses for each one and the kind of rituals it could be used for. The language was English, but it was odd. She recognized familiar words, but with an "e" added to many of them or a double consonant. It looked like olde English. She wasn't even sure how she knew this name? It was written on these thick, old pages. She couldn't tell what type of paper it was. Wait...did this page have tiny dots or ''pores' on it?

Sam noticed Amber tracing her fingers over the dots on the page, looking confused. Leaning over to her he simply said, "Vellum. It's a finely scraped and prepared animal skin. Parchment and vellum started replacing papyrus around the 2nd Century BC. This is a really old book. I wouldn't expect to see a book like this outside of Europe. Outside of a museum, really. It doesn't belong in the new world." Sam was astounded by this find. Amber handed him the book to examine as he was still turning pages exploring this museum piece. She looked on beside him, eyes growing large as Sam explained the vining lines and gold lettering was called 'Illumination." How was this book here! After a while Amber's curiosity panned over to the unexplored aisles.

Wordlessly continuing her examination of this book, she couldn't believe she was leafing through a book like this out in public. The only place she had ever come across this kind of material till now had been the bunker's library.

Sam kept watching his sister and noticed she seemed more relaxed now and looked like she'd started enjoying herself. Her eyes kept shifting from the book she was holding to the numerous stacks on the table. She looked like she was slowly entering a trance. Sam could tell she was having a hard time choosing which one she'd leaf through next. The memory of how excited and overwhelmed he had felt the first time he'd found himself in this place brought a smile to his face. Even now, being surrounded by these books, this condensed assortment of knowledge extracted from exploring the deepest mysteries of this universe… It never ceased to amaze him. And it never would.

"So, are we looking for something specific?" Amber asked, her voice a bit distant, as she was closing the herb book and placing it back on the top of the stack she'd taken it from. Or at least she thought it was. With all these stacks, who could say. As soon as she closed the book she felt like she'd just re-emerge from beneath the surface of deep water, with the sounds and images that had disappeared, once again surrounding her.

"No. Nothing specific. I'm usually trying to find titles on things we either don't have anything about or we have limited resources on. We wouldn't need another book on Enochian magic, but we have only one tome on demonic hybrids. You've helped me reshelve the library's material, so you have an idea of what we've got. Just keep an eye out for anything you think could be useful to us. Especially for… you know… the guy after you."

Glancing around them with caution, Amber turned to look at her brother with raised eyebrows. "Really? 'The guy'?"

"Can't really name him in public, can we?" Sam smiled at her awkwardly from his crouched position over a large box filled with books.

"Of course we can. I love it when you guys call him Luci. Paints a very interesting image for me, having never met him and all," Amber answered, kneeling down next to her brother and peering inside the box.

"And hopefully you never will," Sam answered quietly.

Lucifer wasn't something he could bring himself to talk about. Not even now, after all these years. The endless months of his hallucinations of Lucifer, that had been torturing him all over again once he got his soul back… He shuddered. The memories of his time in the cage had left him with mental carnage he couldn't deal with, so he didn't. The merest thought of Amber in Lucifer's hands made him physically nauseous. Blinking rapidly, he clamped down on these intrusive images and thoughts,compressing them into their iron-banded box and into the farthest, darkest corner of his mind. He needed to get a grip. No. He wouldn't let this happen to her.

Amber noticed his discomfort and mentally kicked herself for commenting on his words so inconsiderately. She might not have known any details, but Dean had filled her in about Sam being trapped into Lucifer's cage a few years back and how hard it had been for him to get over this ordeal. She glanced at Sam briefly, but refrained from saying anything else. Scooting half a step to her right she let her shoulder rub lightly against his own and hoped this subtle gesture would offer him some comfort. Sam felt this and it brought a small smile to his downcast face.

The two of them kept looking through the box in companionable silence, eyes scanning the various titles for anything interesting or useful. Sam, catching a slight sliding sound, glanced upward, looking up at this wall of books high above their heads. His eyes catching movement from above them, he barely had enough time to pull Amber towards himself, and out of the way, before a heavy book fell almost directly onto their heads.

Amber let out a startled yelp, watching the book bouncing on the box they were rummaging in, before landing open with a thudding bang on the spot on the floor right in front of them.

Both sets of eyes flew to the open page in front of them to the wall shelf above. Glancing upward from where the book appeared to have come and there was an empty slot among the books that lined it. Amber glanced at Sam confused.

"How the hell did that happen?"

"Beats me," Sam mumbled, frowning. His eyes scanned the store, but saw nobody inside except Mr. Spencer who was paying no attention to them, reading a book behind his cashier machine. They hadn't bumped the shelving, nothing had disturbed this shelf. This book just fell in front of them like it specifically wanted to be found by them.

The pages the book randomly lay open to, read, "Méthode ancienne pour le l'atténuation des archanges." This wasn't in English, it looked French, but Amber kind of understood what it was about. This was weird, because she couldn't actually read the words.

Sam, picking up the book flipped across a few pages, reading small passages as he scanned. Holding his finger on the page the book had initially opened to, he closed the book in order to read the title on the cover: 'La doctrine et le rituel de la haute magie.'

"Huh?" was all Sam said, re-opening the book to his saved place. Amber edged closer, seeing Sam's interest in this mysterious book. Looking over his shoulder, she scanned the page, looking up at Sam to gauge his reaction in order to understand more of what she'd just seen.

"It's about attenuating angels, isn't it?" Amber's eyes were wide and alert. This whole spontaneous book-dropping thing, this was just too weird. And understanding it without reading it...this was new.

Not answering her right away, Sam was still reading the pages. When her words registered he turned surprised eyes at her.

"Can you read this? You know French?" Sam asked, his eyes focused on her.

Amber could tell that her understanding the book's meaning had caught his interest. Watching her face, she just shrugged.

"No, but somehow I kind of understand what the words mean. Kind of like that Enochian phrase the priest in Magda's case had mentioned," Amber tried to explain.

Sam's mind retrieving that memory, he easily made the connection. Amber was half angel. Angels spoke in tongues. This made sense.

"Well, I don't know French either, but I do know Latin and can make sense of this. I think this is gonna be quite useful to us," he added with a small smile, closing the book and turning to look at the girl's curious face.

"You were pretty spot on. It includes a method for the attenuation of archangels," he added in a soft whisper, leaning closer to the girl. "Could be nothing, could be something, but it's definitely worth checking out. This is very ancient magic. And to my experience, that's the most powerful kind of magic. So we're definitely getting this."

"You think it can help us with...Him?" Amber asked her stomach churning with a mixture of hope, excitement, and dread.

"I think it might," Sam nodded, extending a hand to clasp on his sister's shoulder, reassuringly.

The sound of the bell ringing again made both Winchesters turn to look as a young woman in her late twenties stepped inside the store. She was a brunette with long, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail which hung down to the middle of her back. Dressed in an army-green adirondack jacket, she looked like she'd stepped out of a Pre-Raphaelite painting.

Sam found himself gazing on her, unable to school his expression of appreciation and subdued hunger. Amber caught his gaze and was left unsure of what to think, or say. While she was living with her brothers, she'd witnessed Dean flirting and drooling over women more times than she cared to recount, but Sam...Sam showing interest…this was a first. And it made total sense, he was a grown man after all. This was natural. She had her version of this with the blonde hunks who caught her eye. Briefly wondering why she couldn't empathise with Dean when a lady caught his attention, when she apparently had no trouble doing so with Sam, she kept discreetly watching her brother.

Glancing up at Sam, Amber watched him become aware of her and, clearing his throat in discomfort, turned his face back to focus on their book. Amber smiled, watching his unease of her observing his sexual appetite.

Allowing this moment to pass without a snarky comment, Amber also returned her attention to the book that appeared to have chosen them. Following Sam's finger moving down the page as he continued reading. After a moment, Sam's finger picked up speed and his eyes shone as he was finding something important on the page. Amber watched this, not knowing, yet knowing, that he'd found a key to confining an archangel...possibly the key to confining Lucifer.

"You know… We're gonna buy that book. Plenty of time to obsess over it in the countless hours we'll be locked up in the bunker. Why don't you… find something else to check out?" Amber said this with a teasing smile in her voice.

Watching his face flushing, Amber savored this moment. Sam had made her squirm more than once and now was her turn. And she didn't mind that Sam might wish to talk with this woman.

Looking at her face, Sam simply looked uncomfortable.

"Sam, what's with the looks? I know you want to talk to her, so go do it! I wanted to check out the novel section before we left anyway." Watching his discomfort she added, with a smirk, "I won't watch, promise!"

Not knowing exactly how to navigate this, but not willing to let this opportunity pass, Sam nodded and smiled. Tucking the book under his arm, he headed towards the section of the bookstore adjacent to where this beautiful woman was browsing.

Not losing any time, Amber wandered towards the chaotic stacks of novels which were near the front. As she moved towards the literature section, the concealed aisles made of old sturdy bookcases, she let her eyes caress the titles, allowing the title fonts and colors of the covers to attract her attention, she was enjoying this moment of aloneness outside of the bunker.

Strolling along the store she found herself passing in front of the cashier's desk, Mr. Spencer, still sitting there reading his own book, looked like he was as much a fixture of the place as the stacks of books were. Inhaling the scent of old paper and books, she reached out to pull a particularly interesting title off of one shelf, Memories, Dreams and Reflections. It was about C.G. Jung's life. Hmmm...interesting. Pulling herself out of her thoughts, she listened to the sounds of the bookstore.

Her ears caught the hushed voices of Sam and the woman talking in the background. Stealing a glance at them, she smiled when she saw them both laughing at something one of them had said. Sam's pointing at something in the book and starting talking, told Amber he and the lady would probably spend quite some time talking. Sam couldn't shut up when he had the chance to geek out with someone, and this was clearly the case. Realising this could be her only chance to actually reach out to Kyle, and maybe steal a few moments with him, she took out her phone and texted him discreetly.

After attaching a location pin she typed a short text.

"I'm in a weird kinda-hidden bookstore… I don't think it even has a name. Check the location. My uncle's here, so make sure you're not seen."

Walking behind the first tall bookcase, Amber stole a last glance at Sam. His eyes glanced around the store until he spotted her.

Taking his nod as an acknowledgement that he knew where she was, Amber walked further behind the massive bookcase, lining the walls up to the ceiling, with countless shelves of books. Walking towards these aisle, and disappearing down the middle section, she was now completely concealed behind them.

Cracking open the book she'd found, she waited for Kyle. Like divination, randomly opening this book, she found herself reading the first passage that presented itself to her eyes.

"As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being. It may even be assumed that just as the unconscious affects us, so the increase in our consciousness affects the unconscious."

Puzzling over the meaning of this, thinking of her own unconscious, Amber sensed him before she became aware of him standing next to her. Looking up, she found Kyle was standing close to her. Not having heard the bell on the front door ring didn't surprise her. After all this wasn't the first time he'd just appeared, or disappeared for that matter, out of thin air. Amber peered at him for a few seconds wordlessly, feeling the familiar feedback her senses relayed to her whenever she was around someone. This reading of their intent and energy. She felt confused and relieved at the same time when Kyle felt truly happy to see her. She didn't feel threatened by him. Not in the least. And yet his energy was far from human.

Meeting her gaze, Kyle's face broke into a smile, his eyes twinkly. Amber's heart beat faster and she felt this weird, happy tingle...especially in her heart and her loins. Feeling that she should be so angry at him for all the times he'd dodged her texts, berated her for being out with Claire, and acting like he had a right to control her, but all she could feel was her desire to kiss him and see where this led.

Stepping close to her, Kyle placed his hands on her hips as Amber allowed him to draw her closer. She could smell his natural scent, and it was intoxicating her mind, instructing her body and driving her wild. Not a word was spoken between them. Amber tilted her head upwards, reaching to connect to his lips. Their contact ignited waves of cascading electricity connecting across her skin...even as he touched her through her clothing. She reached up to cup his face, deepening her kiss, and she felt his cheeks, a light stubble and the soft strands of his shoulder-length hair. There was a need escaping him, too. A need for proximity to her. A need that had little to do with their sexual drive in this moment. This was deeper and raw and only managed to further confuse her.

Kyle wrapped his hands around her torso, pulling her even closer and let his hands explore lower down the top of her ass. Amber didn't mind and allowed this. Kyle, seeing he was being given the green light to proceed, carefully smoothed his hands even farther down over the globes of Amber's rear end, his touch firm and grasping. Moving his hands up to her waist, and roving under her shirt, Kyle let his hands feel the smooth skin of her back, soaking in the sensation of her touching him back as they both enjoyed the richness of skin on skin.

Feeling the naturalness of his caress as she held him, encouraging his exploration, Amber scooped one arm upward to wrap around his back and feel his strength, while the other mirrored his movements and raised his shirt caressing his torso. She hadn't known she'd respond this way, but she felt their times together were so fleeting and precarious, rushing forward was desperate and instinctual. Her eyes drifted down to his toned abs and spotted the small inked symbol that looked like Sam and Dean's anti possession tattoos. Her fingers caressed it for a second before she returned her attention to his face and leaned in for another kiss.

Instantly, she wondered what it felt like to have his whole body weight on top of hers. This thought felt so real, her body was responding to it as if they were, with her becoming increasingly flushed as her mind traveled beyond the stacks where they were hidden from view.

Pulling back from their deep kissing, Kyle looked Amber in the eye, his own face flushed and pupils dilated, Amber whimpered in protest. She hadn't felt this passionate longing for so long...she was so hungry for this. Opening her eyes, Amber looked up at Kyle, questioning this painful separation.

"You missed me. Good to know," was his teasing response.

"I wish I didn't, but well…" and Amber's voice trailed off not finishing this complaint.

"Wish you didn't? Geez, Amber, you could've fooled me," and Kyle placed another kiss on her lips, slipping his tongue inside her mouth for another taste of her sweet eagerness. Bringing this kiss to a close, he pulled back once more, a more serious look on his face.

Coming down from this moment of bliss, Amber reconnected to her surroundings and that Sam might appear at any moment. Allowing her hold on him to soften, and stepping back, Amber looked down the aisle in the direction of where she'd seen Sam a few minutes ago as he was talking with the pretty woman.

"Your uncle is still talking with her. We're fine."

Kyle looked back at her reassuringly. The questions about Kyle's precognitive abilities, and his constant surveillance of her, leapt to her mind and her energy shifted to one of serious skepticism.

"Kyle, what the hell is your deal? You know where I'm at all the time, which is creepy as hell. You seem to know where my family is. How did you even know I was going to be at the coffee shop when we last met? It was just by chance I was there at all." Pausing for a couple of seconds she asked the question that had burned in her for the first time.

"What are you?"

Kyle looked at Amber for a long time, his eyes never leaving her face. He was clearly contemplating his answer, his face open for her to see.

"What do you think I am?" He asked her seriously.

Amber gaped at him for a few seconds. "Don't dodge my question! What are you?"

After a short pause Kyle's eyes bored into hers. He looked calm, honest, and confident.

"Do you know any exorcisms?" He asked her.

Amber was dumbfounded. "What?"

"Simple question, Ace. Do you know any exorcisms?"

"Yes…"

"Say it. If the fact that Jody knows me, my anti possession tattoo, all the times I was there to save you aren't enough… then say the exorcism. Do it." Kyle was firm in this, pressing her to send him back to hell, if hell be where he was from.

Hesitantly, Amber pulled back from him, considering his words. Was he bluffing? Deciding she couldn't spend another minute in this uncertainty, she took another step back. She needed to have the object of her exorcism placed away from her...to see the black smoke leave his body as his body gave up the demonic spirit it housed.

"Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis satanica potestas omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, omnis congregatio et secta diabolica."

Amber's voice was quiet yet strong and confident as she spoke the latin incantation...gaining strength as she continued, her heart and chest feeling warm. Unknown to her, her eyes were glowing gold and Kyle saw her strength and true form. She was growing in her nephilim powers.

She was breathtaking.

Kyle's eyes remained fixed on her and his own heart felt warm. The sensation reminded him of their first meeting in the woods, the warmth that had engulfed him when her grace was triggered. He felt more drawn to her with every passing second, with every wave of energy emitted by her.

"Ergo, draco maledicte. Ecclesiam tuam securi tibi facias libertate servire, te rogamus, audi nos."

Ending the exorcism, Amber watched as nothing happened to Kyle. Not a wince of pain, no discomfort, no furrowed brows, nada. He was fine. Amber had been convinced he was a demon, or something demonic, but he wasn't responding like any demon she'd ever heard about. And now...she had no idea what he was.

Kyle read the confusion in her expression. The relief, too.

"But… But you're not human, Kyle," she whispered looking at him straight in the eye.

"I know you're not."

"Do you feel threatened by me?" Kyle asked, his expression even.

"No," Amber answered with certainty.

"Do you feel I truly care for you?" He asked next.

Amber thought of all the times he'd saved her ass, all the moments they'd spent together. She focused on her grace and even though she wasn't sure how she did it, she read his energy and intent, yet again.

"I think I do," she finally answered.

"Then does it really matter what I am? What you are?" His eyes were imploring.

Scoffing, Amber shook her head. "Of course it does!"

"No, Amber. No, it doesn't. All that matters is that this..." he paused stepping close to her, cupping her face in his hands and kissed her hard. Their lips crushed together, their warmth and sensuous taste, which was the entirety of this moment. Pulling back, breathless, Kyle looked down at Amber.

"This is real. And I know you can feel it's real. So trust your instincts and stop asking questions that will only end up hurting both of us."

Amber looked at him intently for a few seconds, mulling his words over.

"Kye...I'm sticking my neck out for you here. I'm lying to my family trying to protect you, 'cause the minute they learn I suspect you're not who you say you are, what you say you are, they'll end you. And I don't want that. But lying to them about this… I don't like it. We've come a long way and keeping something this big… I hate that I'm doing it. I'm doing it 'cause I feel I can trust you. I don't know that I can trust you. But I feel I can," pausing to bring her thoughts into focus, her expression hardened.

"Don't make me regret this. Don't break my trust. If you lie to me… If all this was an act…"

"An act? I let you exorcise me! How the hell could this be an act?" Kyle interrupted her with some frustration slipping in his tone.

Amber shrugged. "I don't know. What I know is that if you're lying to me…You won't like what will come your way. Am I clear?"

Shaking his head Kyle scoffed. "Yes, Amber. You are."

"Good. Now talk to me about Reno. What's happening out there?"

Kyl shifted his stance to a more formal attention. This girl could sure be exacting.

"Demon presence. Big time demon activity. They're keeping close tabs on your old house. This is what I learned from that douche Josh. From your old house, to the pub you worked at, to your friend's house… Jarvis and I cleaned up. I managed to even redirect them out of the town, sending false info about you being in Phoenix for a hunt."

"Why Phoenix?"

"'Cause I know there's major angel presence there at the moment," Kyle smirked. "They'll keep each other busy."

Small smile forming Amber nodded her approval. "Good thinking. So Josh and Ty are safe, right?"

"Yes. Jarvis stayed back to make sure things settled down."

"Alone?" Amber asked, worriedly.

Raising an eyebrow Kyle asked, "Can't you at least pretend you don't care this much about him while I'm here?"

Rolling her eyes, Amber quipped, "Josh and I have history, but that's it. History. So stop the jealousy crap, already. After all it's not like we're a thing you and I, right?"

"I don't think your situation right now really allows for things to happen."

Amber detected some annoyance in his tone mixed with resigned acceptance.

"You can say that, again."

Sam's call of her name made her jump. Peeking her head out she smiled at him.

"Grabbing a book, be right there!"

At his nod she returned to her hiding spot and turned to Kyle. Not saying a word she kissed him deeply one last time before scooping up the book with the quote she had liked, walking back to Sam. She glanced around her for his company and saw him standing in front of Mr. Spencer's desk, paying for a book.

"Found anything you like?" Sam asked her with a smile.

Amber waved the book before returning the question with a teasing smirk, "Did you?"

Sam let out an awkward scoff before shaking his head and walking up to Mr. Spencer, just as the woman had finished and moved to the door. Her eyes met with Sam's and she sent him a shy smile.

"Bye, Sam!"

"Bye, Chloe," Sam smiled back.

Stepping in front of the scowling Mr. Spencer, Amber laid her book on the counter, as Sam laid his right next to it.

"Cute name," Amber commented.

"You think?" Sam asked with a hint of smile.

"Sixty bucks," Mr. Spencer grumbled as he shoved the two volumes into a plastic bag.

Sam took out his wallet from his jacket's pocket and retrieved the requested amount of money. He had made sure to have enough cash on him knowing that Mr. Spencer never accepted credit cards.

"There you go Mr. Spencer," Sam said kindly.

"You two done?" The old man asked back, his brow wrinkling even more as he furrowed his eyebrows at Sam and Amber.

"Almost," Amber said in a mock sweet tone. She didn't like this old fart in the slightest.

"You got a leather-bound copy of Les Miserables back there," she told him pointing to where she and Kyle had spent their few minutes together. "The one with the hand-drawn illustrations. How much is that?"

"Fifty."

Face scrunching up in disappointment Amber nodded. "Then we're done. You know, for a place this dirty and unorganized you could lower your prices a bit," she commented dryly to the old man before turning her back and heading to the exit.

Amused smile plastered on his face, Sam hastily got out a twenty dollar bill and gave it to the old man. "Reserve that copy for me. I'll pick it up tomorrow. Will you be here?" he asked in a hushed tone.

At the old man's annoyed nod, Sam smiled. "Good. Have it ready for me, Mr. Spencer. Good day!" With these words, Sam walked to Amber who stood by the door waiting for him.

"I didn't know you liked Hugo," Sam smiled at her.

"I've read a couple of his works. Borrowed them from Ty. His parents had a ton of classic literature books. Les Miserables is one of my all time favorites," Amber answered.

"He's one of my favorites, too," Sam said, happy for having found out something new about Amber. Something the two of them had in common. Peering at her as they walked along the pavement he noticed her flustered face.

"Are you feeling alright? You look all flushed," he asked her, tone concerned.

Eyes enlarging for all of a second Amber schooled her expression to one of surprise. "I do? No, I'm fine. So… How did you and Chloe go?"

Keeping his gaze on her as they strolled along this quiet part of Lebanon he asked, "How do you feel about that?"

Turning to glance at him, surprised at his question she shrugged. "Fine."

"You don't really expect me to drop this topic just like that, right?"

"Nothing to drop, Sam. I mean, what do I have to do with any of this anyway? This is about you," was Amber's uncomfortable response.

"Well, you were quite upset when Dean...Spent some time with...female company."

Amber's lips twitched to an amused smirk. She could have long easy conversations about all kinds of things with Sam, and yet there he was having a hard time finding the words without blushing. She remembered their talk about her and Kyle back at Jody's and wondered how was that even possible. Was it that he feared she'd be upset about this?

Focusing on his words, she remembered how upset she had been over Dean being with a woman and couldn't really blame Sam for worrying.

"For some weird reason… This isn't the same."

Feeling her eyes on him, Sam turned to look at her, a look of cautious inquiry on his face.

"I don't mind. Really, Sam. I'm kind of excited and happy for you," she answered him truthfully.

Sam glanced at her thoughtfully, happy to hear this, but still needing some reassurance she wasn't just placating him.

"Why do you think that is?"

Shrugging, Amber shoved her hands deep in her coat's pockets. When she spoke she sounded uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going.

"Beats me. That's just how it is," she said, hoping to end this here, and hopefully change the subject.

Smiling, Sam drew her close to his side, draping his heavy arm around her shoulders. He had an idea why Amber felt so differently with him rather than Dean. Even though they were both her brothers, Dean had stepped into the 'father' role and this anchored Amber in a way she didn't understand. Her reaction to sharing Dean with another person, and it was obvious. Whether he was her brother or acting as her father, Dean was Dean. He wasn't concerned about being her friend. He wanted her alive and safe and Amber, unconsciously, clung to this.

"It's alright, Amber. Feeling that way," Sam commented.

"What are you talking about?"

"You, feeling differently about Dean and I in such situations. There's no need to feel uneasy about this. I get it," Sam explained discreetly. This was one of those situations where spelling things out wasn't needed.

"That's why you got upset after we left the diner, isn't it? Dean going somewhere alone with Claire." Sam commented when she remained silent. He didn't want to spoil their mood, but this needed to be addressed.

Amber's jaw clenched at his words. The time they spent in the bookstore and her short meeting with Kyle had managed to push her annoyance and anger to the back of her mind.

"I'm not upset," she answered curtly.

"Yes you are. What's up with you and Claire?" Sam insisted.

"What do you mean what's up? She tried to get me in trouble. She told Dean I was out that night that I accidentally teleported, hoping he'd get mad at me! Not to mention how much shit Dean lets her get away with. I thought she was my friend and she stabbed me in the back."

Sam knew all of this. What he didn't know was what lay below. "She also covered for you with the whole cemetery thing," Sam countered.

Head snapping up, Amber gaped at Sam for only a second. "No she didn't, because I didn't do anything that night. There was nothing to cover for."

She stuck to their story stubbornly. Sam was good but she was better. Keeping consistent with the stories she'd make up was how she made it all these years.

"Uh huh, sure. My point is, it all happened pretty suddenly. One day you're sticking up for each other, the next Claire rats you out to Dean… And I get that you're upset over that, I really do. I'm just trying to figure out how this whole thing escalated and you went from friends to being at each other's throats all the time."

"We're not. When have you seen us fighting?" Amber countered exasperated.

"I haven't. But the cold war is going strong. Trust me, Dean, Cas, and I, we all know."

"Well, in that case you don't need my help to figure this out. Not that there's much to figure out. She's a bitch. Don't look at me like that, I'm too irritated to think of a Sam-approved synonym."

Sam, managing to hide his smirk at her last comment, tried to gather his thoughts. Amber was already irked and he needed to tread carefully to say what he needed to say and still bring them back to their usual canals of communication.

"You know… What I said before, about you feeling different about Dean and me, that's some valuable insight. Maybe Claire is also going through something similar. Maybe she feels a bit disconnected with all of us being blood. Maybe this whole story of ours, you being Dean's daughter, is salt on her wounds. And maybe this whole thing makes her react in ways she normally wouldn't."

Sam watched the girl mulling his words over. He didn't necessarily expect an answer from her. He just hoped his words had made some sort of impact and that they'd help his sister gain some empathy for Claire.

Amber listened to his words, but didn't answer or commented on them. She hadn't thought of it this way. She hadn't even tried to figure Claire's betrayal out. Nor did she care to.

But Sam presented some interesting points. Not that it made the situation any better. In fact it might be the first time Sam's insight kind of made it worse. Claire had a family. She had the most wonderful woman Amber had ever met for a mother. Sure, she'd been through a lot, but she had Jody. And she had Sam and Dean. Her Sam and Dean. Her brothers. Her family. They were kind enough to host Claire and train her, but Amber didn't care much for sharing. She'd not had anything to share before meeting them.

Not wishing to get into any of this with Sam, she simply sent an acknowledging glance his way. Taking a minute to breathe her frustration out, she was more than ready to shift the focus of their conversation.

"So... Back to Chloe...you'll see her again?"

"Maybe," Sam said, noncommittally. " I'd like to. You'd be okay with that?"

Amber thought about this before turning to look at him. "Yeah, I would."

The two of them walked in companionable silence for almost a whole minute.

Pushing the whole Claire conversation out of her mind, Amber focused on the question that bugged her more than anything since they left the bookstore.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yes?"

Completely changing the subject, Amber recast the direction of their conversation.

"What other creatures, other than demons, nephilims, and angels, can teleport?"

Turning to look at her, surprised at the random question, Sam thought for a minute.

"Well...not that many, actually. God, of course. And all deities, too. Then, reapers. Have we talked about reapers?"

"They're the guys that lead the souls of the dying to the afterlife, right?" Amber answered thoughtfully.

"Right. Then, there's witches, but they'd need a spell to do this. Uh… Fairies can, too…"

"Fairies?" Amber asked incredulously. "Fairies exist?"

Here Sam chuckled to himself, his face caught halfway between smiling and a deviously smirk. That had been an unusual situation. Focusing back on Amber's inquiry, he cleared his face of the memories that were in motion on his face. He wasn't ready to talk to Amber about the year he didn't have a soul.

"It's funny how such things still surprise you, Amber." Grinning a roguish grin, Sam couldn't help it.

"Yeah, they exist. Nasty little things. I think that's about it. Well… technically ghosts, too, but only within the limits of the area they haunt. How did that question come up?"

Amber shrugged. "I was just thinking about my teleporting and it popped up in my mind, I guess."

Sam didn't buy it. This question was too specific in its randomness. He'd just keep an eye on this discussion in the future.

Getting some of the information she needed, she was collecting leads that she'd pursue on the down low. She repeated the list silently in her head in order to memorise it. She'd do her research and try to figure out what was the real deal with Kyle. She was relieved he wasn't a demon, yes. But she still felt uneasy not knowing the whole truth. The guilt of hiding this from Sam and Dean was gnawing at her. She trusted them, but at this point she also trusted her instincts. Her grace revealed to her a truth deeper than what was evident. But Sam and Dean, these two seasoned hunters, were burdened with their fear for her safety. They'd see this as a black and white situation that had one simple solution. And she couldn't handle that.

Looking up at Sam, pushed by her guilt and conflict, Amber called at him.

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"You know I love you guys, right?"

These random words of affection made Sam pause his step, and turn to look down at this girl, his heart melting. These words coming from her lips were such a rare and invaluable gift.

"I know, Amb. We both do. And we love you, too," Sam answered warmly, his face easing and his eyes conveying a reciprocal affection.

"Are you sure you're alright? Not that I mind hearing those words, but it seems a bit out of the blue. Has something happened?"

"No, nothing's happened," Amber answered quietly with a shake of her head. "I just sometimes think how much chaos I've brought into you guys' lives… How many times I've fu...I've screwed up. I just want you to know that I'm really trying. And that I really want to be more than a constant cause of worry for you guys."

Sam regarded her for a few seconds. "Amber, you're far from just that… And even that, that's not your fault. The situation you're in, it's not your fault. We don't blame you for it and we sure don't see you as a burden. Will we always worry for you? You bet we will. Even when this whole thing is behind us… Even in twenty years from now, when you're close to forty, we'll still worry over you. That's part of this whole family deal. And trust me, we know you try. Screwing up is part of the process. And for better or worse, an inextricable element of your age. You've come so far these past three months… And it's only been three months. I know our situation hasn't allowed us to really ease into this and that it feels like a small eternity with everything that keeps happening… But it's been just three months. I know we have to come down hard on you sometimes, but that doesn't mean we don't see your effort. Or that we're not proud of you. You know that, right?"

Amber formed a small smile before nodding. "I do. Thanks for saying this."

"I meant every word."

"And you could have it so much worse right? I mean, look at Claire!"

Letting out a loud chuckle, Sam shook his head as the two of them started walking again towards their meeting point with Dean and Claire.

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Grabbing a beer, Dean headed back into the library. He was feeling pretty good. All things considered, he and Claire had had a clearing of the air. Purchasing that shotgun for Claire, and the easier conversation they had after, well, he felt like all was right in the moment.

Claire was in the War Room, shotgun disassembled, cleaning it. This ritual of the 'new gun' was an almost intimate act. Taking apart and stripping away the moving parts to get out the carbon buildup, while not so critical for a shotgun, served the purpose of the hunter getting a deeper feel for his firearm.

Sam glanced at the blonde working over the gun as he passed the War Room, heading for the library.

Coming from the kitchen, beer in hand, Dean and Sam crossed paths, Dean noticing his brother dressed for leaving.

"You leaving?"

"Yeah. I, ah...I have a date."

"About time! Hey..." Dean hesitated in his next question. "So, are we going to have an issue with Amber about you being a grown man having a grown-man life?"

Sam, smiling, simply replied, "No."

Dean's expression was lost in disbelief.

"No?"

"Look Dean, she and I already talked about this, and she's good with it. And...I'm not you."

"What do you mean by that?"

Dean sounded gruff. He was such a dull tool sometimes.

Smirking, Sam just shook his head.

"You figure it out, Dean. I believe in you. And if I don't leave now I'm gonna be late. If all goes well, I'll see you guys tomorrow. Call if anything comes up."

"Good for you, Sam. Hope it works out. Your hand was looking kind of chapped."

Dean's shit-eating grin was amusing and alarming. Where were the girls? Sam glanced around.

Frantically looking back to where Claire sat, Sam turned back to his brother, throwing a murderous scowl.

"Claire's right over there, Dean! Get it together! God!"

Smirking, Dean watched his brother leave. He threw himself into one of the armchairs, and kept sipping from his beer, hoping Sam was right and he wouldn't have an upset Amber on his hands.

Coat on, Sam exited the bunker leaving the War Room quiet, Claire still sitting at the table, busy with her shotgun.

Continuing to clean the shotgun, Claire was aware of Sam leaving the bunker...and of the brothers' conversation. As the bunker door closed, Claire, eyes still on her task, raised her voice so Dean would hear it in the library.

"You'd know of chapped hands."

Slightly startled, Dean raised his eyebrows wondering how to respond to this.

"About time you two started getting out of my hair. Think about it, Dean. I mean, if you can even get a date, old man."

Taking another long drink from his beer, Dean considered Claire's words. She wasn't wrong.

"Well, one at a time, Barbie. Can't leave you alone to burn the place down, can I."

"Whatever. Just saying you could use a chill pill. But, given your old ass, you'd be lucky to get a phone number, let alone score."

Smiling at the irony of their situation, Dean shook his head. "Oh, don't go worrying about that. Not a problem, Barbie. Just...you go back to cleaning that gun."

"Whatever…" Claire let this slide for now. She got her digs in and this felt good.

Walking in at just this moment, Amber's eyes lingered on Claire, cleaning the gun and paying no attention to her. Amber walked right past her and headed up the stairs into the library. She glanced around her only to find Dean, sitting in an armchair and drinking beer, clearly pleased with how his day had gone.

"Where's Sam?" Amber asked, looking at Dean's beer and thinking how good this would taste right about now.

"He's out. Gone on a date."

Dean looked up at her, gauging her reaction, noticing her calm demeanour.

"Oh… I didn't realise that would happen tonight." Amber was a bit surprised that Sam didn't say goodbye before leaving. That wasn't like him.

"Yeah, well, he felt like he wanted to just let you and Claire do your own thing...kind of keeping the peace."

"Sure, yeah. I'll go back to my room then. Do my own thing. Unless you care to share?" she attempted with a sweet smile, her hand extended towards his beer.

"Hands off my beer, kid! Don't get used to that."

Not really expecting to get a taste, but worth trying, Amber let this idea drop.

"You okay? With Sam leaving and all?" Dean asked, looking up at her standing near the stairs. She looked ready to leave.

Eyeing Dean, and realizing that, for him, this was unsettled territory, Amber softened her face so he could see that she was fine with Sam going out on a date. Not wishing to get into the weeds about this with him, especially not with Claire within earshot, Amber simply shrugged.

"I'm fine. And I haven't had a free afternoon in forever, so I'll go back to my guitar and give you and your bottle some privacy."

Dean didn't answer, but noted how she simply brushed him off. Realising this might be for the best, with Claire right next room, he would leave it at that. He wasn't convinced that she was okay with this. Her intense reaction to his 'night-off' made it hard for him to believe. Maybe he'd catch her in a better mood later. Either way, he got to finish his beer quietly.

Walking down the stairs, and out of sight, Dean watched Amber disappear.

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Her fingers strummed the chords one last time, before her palm rested over the soundhole, muting the chords, and bringing the song to an abrupt end. This had felt good. She hadn't had the time, or been in the mental space, to play and sing in so long that she had almost forgotten how calming it was. For her, it had a grounding effect.

Gently placing her guitar next to her on the bed, she closed her eyes, letting herself ride this wave of deep calm and focus. She was vaguely aware of her thoughts traveling to her training sessions with Castiel. It was this state of calm clarity she was always trying to get to. Here, she could wield her power with strength and accuracy. Maybe she would start playing a bit every day before her time with Cas. Maybe this could help her progress faster.

Like a sudden change in the temperature of the air, her eyes opened to full focus at the realization now would be the perfect timing for some teleportation practice. Cas wasn't here and neither was Sam. Dean didn't want her to practice with her powers when neither of them was in the bunker. He was concerned that he wouldn't be able to help her if something went south. Eyes enlarging, Amber replayed part of this internal monologue.

Cas wasn't here and neither was Sam.

With only Dean around, this could very well be her best chance to try teleporting a bit further away.

Cas didn't think she was ready yet, but she knew that if she tried right now, in this state of mind, she could do this.

And she doubted he'd let her try under his supervision during their next session, whenever that would be.

There it was, logically opportunistic. If not now...then when? Yeah, she was totally doing this.

Excited and eager to master this new element of her power, Amber quickly thought through how this could play out. She glanced at her phone to check the time. Chances were, Dean wouldn't bother her for at least another half-hour. In fact, if she was the one that took charge of dinner and let him know she'd call them when everything was ready, he wouldn't bother her at all.

Buying herself an hour…that would be plenty of time for multiple teleportations. With Dean out of her hair, that is. Claire could pose a different threat to her getting caught, but she doubted Claire would make any attempt to spend time with her. Things weren't exactly smooth between them, which served her well in this situation.

Getting to her feet she rushed out of her room and headed to the kitchen, hoping she'd beat Dean in getting dinner started.

Finding the kitchen empty, she opened the old fridge and took out a few carrots, which she dumped in the sink. Opening one of the cabinets she got out a couple of potatoes and onions, as well. Working quickly, she washed, peeled and chopped everything, throwing them in a pan. Rummaging around in the freezer, she found a pound of pork chops. They were fanned out in the package, displaying their pink inside..but frozen in place like playing cards. Simply unwrapping the plastic from the styrofoam base, she placed this chunk of frozen meat on top of the bed of vegetables. She really didn't know what she was doing, but she was willing to give this a try.

Drizzling olive oil over the ingredients, and sprinkling salt and pepper evenly over the pile of meat and veg, she paused for a minute staring at her creation. Yeah, this should work. Her plan was flowing. Now what?

Awww. yes! That would work.

Reaching into the drawer, Amber pulled out the roll of foil. Making a tented covering helped cook the meat, making it juicy and tender. This was Jody's trick. There. All ready.

Eyes twinkling with excitement at her detailed plan, which was falling into place, she put the pan into the oven, adjusting the temperature to 350°F. Dean had shown her how to cook a frozen lasagna. She remembered the temperature, so she'd just go with this. Yeah, it was a cold oven and would slowly heat up, but this would work. More time for her to practice. So, at least an hour. Maybe more? She didn't know, but she figured she had at the least an hour before anyone came looking for her.

Walking into the library, Amber needed to sound sincere and casual.

"Hey Dean. Guess what?"

Looking up at her from his second beer, Dean saw Amber climbing the stairs up into the library. She looked happy and this got his attention. A happy Amber was a good thing.

"Hey kid, what's up?"

Smiling, she focused on her accomplishment at cooking in an effort to look and feel sincere.

"I was in the mood and I've got dinner started. It's in the oven and will be done in about an hour. It's still frozen, so it actually might be a bit longer."

Dean's eyebrows furrowed suspiciously at that.

"Okay… Shoot. What do you want?"

"What?" Amber asked, her head tilting to the side in confusion. That wasn't the response she was expecting.

"Last time spontaneous cooking happened, you had a big favor to ask. So shoot. What is it this time?"

With a roll of her eyes Amber answered him impatiently, "I don't want anything Dean. I just made us dinner. Can't I do this?"

Still cleaning her gun at the table, Claire heard this exchange. She glared at the general direction of the library thinking that Dean was being a dick. Again. This time it might be directed to Amber, but it still irked her. Amber liked cooking. If Claire knew this, her dad most definitely should, too.

"In my experience, no," taking another draught of his beer, his eyes still on her as he sat in his chair. While he was calm, his demeanour remained solidly impassive, unconvinced.

"You're being such an ass! God! I'll call you guys when it's ready."

With these words she turned her back and headed to her room. She didn't want to lose any of this precious free time she had in her hands.

Watching her walking away Dean briefly wondered if he should be worried.

"Where are you going?"

"My room, Dean! I just wanted to let you know dinner's cooking. One less thing for you to do!"

Liking the sound of that, and knowing she couldn't really go anywhere else without him seeing her from his vantage point in the library, he decided to let it go for now.

"Dean, your daughter likes to cook and she's cooking us dinner. Which saves our asses extra work! What's your problem?"

Claire didn't see the problem. Watching these Winchesters was constant drama. She wasn't sure why she went out of her way to back Amber up here, but she rolled with it.

Noting Claire's attempt to help Amber out, Dean decided to not pursue this. The sooner this cold war among the girls ended, the better for all of them. He'd keep an eye out for anything suspicious, letting this drop for now. And he could have another beer before dinner.

Catching this exchange, and Dean settling into his chair, Amber slowly let out her breath. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding it until she wasn't. She was surprised at the unexpected backup, and sent a glance at Claire, but chose not to comment on her words. The two girls' eyes met. No guile, no smirk, no nada. Claire appeared to be genuinely backing Amber up. Her initial surprise subsiding, annoyance sparked right up. If Claire thought she'd be off the hook just like that, she was sorely mistaken.

"Keep your comments to yourself. That was between me and Dea...dad," she told Claire coldly, before heading out of the room.

Claire's mouth dipped open in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance. Hell would freeze over before she'd try to back Amber up again. She was tempted to throw a piece of the disassembled gun at the departing girl, but decided against it. The gun was new and freshly cleaned. None of this was the gun's fault. Why should it suffer?

Still walking away, Amber intentionally listened in the wake of her retreat. An exchange between those two could be important intel she'd regret not hearing. However, nothing more came from the War Room or the library. Watching her retreating, Dean called out after her departure.

"I'll be right here till dinner's ready… Just so you know!"

Amber, back turned at both him and Claire, only smiled. She was counting on it.

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Grabbing her coat, Amber put it on, checking that the key to the bunker's garage was safely zipped inside her coat pocket. She'd need to cover all bases. She didn't want this night to end sourly. This included making sure she had an alternative way into the bunker in case she couldn't teleport back in on her own. She'd have to focus her destination within a few minutes walking distance from the bunker in case she managed to wear herself out before she could zap back in. Plotting and planning had always been her forte.

Walking to the center of the room, between her bed and dresser, she took in a few calming breaths. So much for trying this while she was in her post-music state of mind. Deciding she was gonna give it a go anyway, she completely focused on her breathing. Her stomach muscles, expanding and contracting, moving her breath deep into her lungs through her nose and out her mouth. In less than a minute she was focused and synced in with her grace. This was getting easier to achieve every time she practiced. She thought of her first destination. The cement stairs right in front of the bunker's door, focusing on the features and details of that space, just like Cas always instructed her.

And then she felt it. The heat engulfing her. The feeling of hovering for all of a second. And just as she felt it, there she was...outside of the bunker, on top of the three cement stairs. Heart beating excitedly, she fought hard not to squeal in excitement. Playing it safe, she closed her eyes once again, breathing in, breathing out, picturing her room and focusing. When she opened her eyes again she found herself in the exact same spot she had teleported from. Right between her bed and dresser.

Looking around, sort of doing a scan to check that she was good, the room was good, all was good, she decided to try this again. This time she'd focus on the paved road outside of the bunker. Not wanting to risk getting caught, she allowed herself a short break. About a minute of breathing and flexing her neck. Cas insisted she needed small breaks in between teleportations and had advised her to stick to this practice even after she'd master this ability.

When a couple of minutes had passed, once again she started breathing in and out, calming herself, repeating the same procedure she'd just done. And once again, she felt that gentle heat engulfing her whole body, just like the first time, her grace aligning with her will. She felt the start of the teleportation and there she was, on the road outside of the bunker.

Looking around, she felt cautious excitement. Could she get back inside, again? Returning to the image of her own room, she brought this to her mind, felt this internal 'sync' and there she was, inside her room, looking at her desk with her journal on it.

Again, checking herself, her room, glancing at the door, she reaffirmed, she was fine. She felt fine, not tired at all.

Now she was excited. She'd done it. She'd really done it!

My god, she could do this...and she could do this on her own. If she could go farther and farther, this would change everything for her, for her brothers, just everything. Sam was right. This could be a huge advantage, an "emergency exit" as he had called it. If anything went south, at any point, she'd be able to zap out of danger. Maybe with a bit more practice, even zap others out of danger along with her. She knew they wouldn't approve of her doing this, but she also saw this as her best chances of survival. She simply had to improve. ASAP.

After four more teleportations, each one slightly further than the last,and each one paired with a return to her room, Amber realized time had really flown by. Taking into account the small breaks she needed in between each teleporting attempt she decided she'd do one last teleport before returning to the bunker. Then she'd have to check on dinner.

'Welcome to Phillips County'.

Standing in front of this road sign, on the shoulder of the road out of town, this marker had become her benchmark when they were on a road trip. Going beyond this sign promised adventure into the unknown. And tonight, this was her limit. Breathing deep of the chill night air, she surveyed the night sky. It was icy and clear, with the night sky so close. Looking up she felt like she was a part of the cosmos...a part of this big sky over the Kansas prairie. Amber took in a deep breath, marking this moment in her memory.

Reflecting upon where she was, Amber remembered Sam talking a bit about the history of this state, that 130 years ago Kansas was home to millions of buffalo roaming freely. She'd come upon this little piece of information through the lyrics of one of her favorite songs. Sam had jumped at this learning opportunity since Amber hadn't known the history of the state.

Smiling at this fond memory, Amber began humming the tune to this song, taking in the expansive beauty of Kansas at night. In the calm and tranquility of this moment, she felt herself undone, stripped of cynicism and anger. It was only her and sky, the county sign, the open road. She closed her eyes and when she opened them again, she found herself staring back at her own smiling reflection in the mirror hanging above her dresser.

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The scent of the books and leather chairs always comforted her. Ever since she'd teleported back from Crowley and Rowena's here into the library, the association with this room had become that of safety. Right now the room was mostly dark, the Christmas lights offering the sole source of illumination in the room, adding to the cozy atmosphere.

Curled up in her favorite chair, cup of peppermint tea in her hand, Amber was reflecting upon the tangled knot of her feelings. Sure, she was happy Sam was out getting some. It felt weird knowing he wasn't one door-knock away, but she wasn't that strongly affected by his absence. She was strongly affected by Claire and Dean spending time together. Even before dinner, they'd come back to the bunker in a better mood, some inside jokes and generally more convivial...which for Claire and Dean was miraculous! And for Amber, upsetting, bordering on jealousy.

The new shotgun Claire had when they'd returned, the gun Dean had bought for her, was a big gift. It had cost $420. Dean hadn't said anything about it, but Claire made a point of letting Amber know how much Dean had spent on her.

Yeah, for Claire it had been a turning point, and she felt special. She hadn't buried the hatchet with Amber, so 'turning the knife' into Amber's feelings was Claire's default. When you were her friend, she didn't do this as much. But, if you and Claire were at odds in any way, well, this was her primary munitions. She was a bully. And Amber was losing face. She was getting rusty, letting people grasp onto what would hurt her the most.

Before meeting her brothers, letting people in was a slow process. Past experiences had cemented this into her personality. And here she was, softening up! She was angry with herself for trusting Claire so easily, for sharing some of her deepest thoughts on her newfound family. Thank god she never let herself actually go ahead and share her biggest secret. Who knows what Claire would've done with that. Sam's words were trying to break through to her conscious personality, working their way out of the dark corner she'd shoved them into. Despite this, and at odds with this growing impulse, she wasn't giving any attention to this. She'd ignore them for now. This would turn out to be ill-advised.

Allowing only a tiny bit of her conscious brain to acknowledge them, and considering that there might be mitigating circumstances that brought up Claire's betrayal, Amber remained ambivalent and easily reactive. Which, unfortunately for her, was anything Claire-related. It was funny how she could use her grace to read people and their intentions, letting her intuition guide her and reassure her, but when it came to Claire she refused to even try. Not after what she tried to do two weeks ago.

Kyle popped up in her thoughts just then. He was such a paradox. A dark energy with pure intentions, kindness. WTF! She'd swear he was a demon, but he didn't even flinch when she tried to exorcise him. This made no sense! Even taken at face value, he'd become very bossy and dominating, as if he'd had a right, a duty, to protect her and step in. Sure, he'd saved her ass, but still, he acted way too much like Dean. That took nerve for someone so young. What was he, 18? He was acting like he was invested into her safety, as if he had too much to lose if something happened to her. And for someone who knew her for such a short amount of time, this didn't add up.

Amber felt equally annoyed and intrigued by these contradictions. She knew he was more than a human. He hadn't refused it nor had he admitted it, but this was clearly the case. And he was some sort of corporeal being able to teleport anywhere and eager to protect her. It was like he'd chipped her with a radio transmitter and released her back into the wild, constantly monitoring her movements.

Deep in thought, the darkness of the library dancing with the fairy lights on the Christmas Tree, Amber heard someone approaching the library. She watched Claire enter the room and glance around her. She never noticed Amber, curled up in her dark corner and perfectly still

Relieved she'd found the room empty, Claire walked to the corner where the Christmas tree was. She sprawled herself in the chair that sat right next to it, head dropping back and eyes staring at the dancing shadows on the ceiling. Wanting a beer, or something stronger, Claire cast her eyes around the room, doing a cursory sweep, looking for where the bottle of bourbon may have been hidden. Not seeing it anywhere she let out a huff. Uncharacteristically, she doubted that she'd risk sneaking a glass even if she did spot it laying around. Today had been too good to ruin over a glass of alcohol, no matter how much she craved it. Her own thoughts surprised her. She wasn't one to deny herself impulsive whims. Certainly, not out of fear she'd upset Dean Winchester, and yet here she was doing just that.

Eyes following the dancing pattern of the lights and the shadows they created, she thought about her day, mainly her time with Dean. He'd hadn't been such a dick. Kind of cool, really. At least he was today. She was reserving her overall judgement.

She was surprised at how easy it was for her to apologise. She'd expected reality to crack open, the heavens to break apart, emotional pain to rain down on her….and it hadn't. The same guy who'd tormented her, who two weeks prior had made her want to vanish off the face of the earth, had simply accepted the apology and moved on. They'd continued with their gun shopping. No drama. No bitchiness. Somehow, those couple of hours they spent in the gun shop had made Claire respect the man a tiny bit more.

She was still reserved around him. He was still keeping stuff from her. All of the Winchesters were. And that's why she didn't let her guard down completely. But Dean...Dean had managed to prove he could be bearable to be around. Even kinda fun. Sometimes.

Wishing Jody was here to torture her with a long talk that would help her sort out of this touchy-feely shit, Claire found herself swallowing with difficulty. This would be the first time since coming to live with Jody and Alex that they wouldn't spend Christmas together. And she didn't like it. The prospect of spending more time than was initially planned here at the bunker, well, this didn't feel so repulsive anymore. She still wanted nothing more than having Jody and Alex with her for the holidays.

She'd asked Jody to come to the buker for Christmas, but the woman was drowning in work. There'd been a crime spike in Sioux Falls, with supernatural cases coming on top of this, making it impossible for Jody to leave. If Claire was in Sioux Falls right now, she'd definitely managed to sneak in at least a couple of hunts. She missed hunting; she missed it like crazy. Dean's words, promising a hunt soon if she kept playing nice, popped up in her head. Annoyed with how much he'd managed to make her think twice about going solo, she could only hope a case would come up soon. 'Cause she didn't know how much longer she'd be able to keep playing nice and ignore this itching desire to hunt.

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Thudding to the floor, Amber felt the wind knocked out of her. The fall had been at least five feet up.

"Huh!"

Dazed for a split second, she got to her feet, knees bent, arms up, hands in front of her face, fluid and responsive. Be like water.

Smiling down at her, evil grin on his face, Dean felt he was continuing Amber's education in humility.

"Don't expect that your opponent will keep coming at you with the same moves."

Amber knew this. Geez! She was feeling frustrated at her own lack of anticipation of the unknown. Dammit, wasn't that why it was called, 'the unknown?" Dean was pissing her off and her ego was bruised. Knowing that Claire was over in the corner, smirking, watching her lose two rounds in a row didn't help.

"C'mon. Let's go again. This time, I want to see what you'll do with something entirely different."

Dean was already formulating an offensive move he'd used while driving Baby. While in the Impala he'd used this maneuver to evade a pursuer. It had worked. And he'd see if he could translate this into a fighting move.

On her feet, Amber was looking angry, and flushed. Dean had been taking her down for the last ten minutes...in front of Claire...and it had really hurt her confidence. Pissed her off, too. Claire had managed to win three rounds against Dean, while Amber had won only one. The blonde hadn't said anything, but her facial expression had been one of condescending mirth. Amber wanted to fucking wipe that smirk off her face.

Eyeing Dean, and watching his body movements, Amber did a small shift of her perception. She let her gaze 'd found this new technique let her zone into any movement sooner than if she'd simply paid attention. Her anticipation, and response to anticipated action, was heightened.

Dean, seeing Amber's eyes glaze in an odd way, wondered what she was doing. He knew she was doing something. Sticking to his plan, he decided to misdirect her by taking a few practice jabs at her in obvious attempts to grab her. Amber stealthily avoided his reach. Good girl. That's what he wanted to see. A few more of this, and he felt sure he'd built her confidence up...and now he'd take it down.

Lunging to her right, Dean let his body lead and then, at the last split second, he changed his weight and stance, pivoting to her right, but out of arm's reach, and grabbing at her arm with the intention of twisting it up behind her. Amber saw this happening, realized she'd been tricked and tried to correct her response, and would've intercepted this move if only she'd had her weight evenly on both feet. Alas, she was up on her toes, but her weight was mostly on her back leg. This didn't allow her to be as responsive as "front wheel drive' would've. Dean grabbed her wrist, twisting her arm behind her, taking the wooden 'practice knife' out of her grip.

"Augh! Fuck!"

Amber's frustration was keeping her from focusing and anticipating the unexpected, but she didn't see this yet. She was just pissed off. If she'd simply blasted him, he'd be down. Dead, but down. This no-powers fighting was bullshit!

Claire was laughing, and both Dean and Amber heard it. Looking up, Dean frowned at Claire, knowing that the girl was intentionally pouring salt into Amber's wounds. This wasn't helping anything and he disliked this lack of teamwork between the two girls. They needed to work together, to survive together. Deciding it was high time they worked their shit out, he changed his original plan of not having them fight against each other today. He'd thought it would make things worse between them, but right now he was thinking it might help them get it out of their system.

"Claire, cut it out! And get your ass over here. You against Amber. Go."

Moving out of the way and close to the wall, he watched as Claire walked past Amber, intentionally bumping against her shoulder.

Amber let out a snarl and turned around shoving Claire forcefully. This sent Dean into high alert.

Before Claire had a chance to charge at Amber, Dean snapped, "Hey! Enough! Fighting stance, face each other, and you begin on my call. Don't let me see that happening again!"

The girls, glaring at each other, followed Dean's directions. Positioning themselves right across from each other, fists and jaws clenched, an ominous sense of war took hold in the training room.

Dean had them stand like this for almost a full ten seconds before yelling, "Go!"

Amber lunged first, right fist shooting straight for Claire's face. The blonde ducked low in the last possible second, attempting a low kick to Amber's right ankle. She didn't miss, but to her surprise Amber remained standing. Other than hissing, Amber was still standing. Claire's few seconds of surprise were enough for Amber to land a good punch on the side of Claire's jaw. This knocked her backwards and off stance. Losing her balance, Claire fell backwards to the floor, landing on her butt.

Jumping to her feet, the back of her hand wiping the trickle of blood from her torn lower lip, Claire surged forward, landing a powerful kick to Amber's stomach, making her double over in pain. Dean heard the painful 'thump" and knew this had to hurt.

Keeping Claire in her line of vision, but still pretending to be out of commission from the kick, Amber waited for the blonde to lunge forward again, slipping out of the way with a speed she'd not demonstrated before, sneaking in a punch to Claire's ribs as she did so. Claire didn't know what had happened. She suddenly couldn't catch her breath...and it was painful.

Using her opponent's proximity, Claire grabbing hold of Amber's hand, and yanking the girl towards her, Claire used her feet to kick Amber off balance. When Amber hit the ground, Claire got on top of her, securing Amber's legs with her own, kneeling on her thighs. She remembered this move from when Dean had used it on her. Not bothering to secure Amber's wrists with her hands, she instead used her fist to land two consecutive punches, one on each side of Amber's face.

Dean watched this intense fight scene uneasily. It was not bad enough to warrant his intervention, but it was getting there, and he wondered if he'd made the right decision letting them 'fight it out'. When he saw Amber claw Claire's cheek to the point she drew blood, he winced. He needed to step in, but he'd be too late.

It all unfolded too quickly to stop.

Amber's unexpected move threw Claire off, and she involuntarily inched back, easing up on Amber's legs. Free from being pinned down, Amber rolled to the side, kicking Claire off of her. The two of them jumped back up to their feet. Strategy was gone. They lunged at each other in raw, angry, gut-impulse aggression. Punches and kicks mixed with slaps, hair pulling and scratches.

When Claire landed a particularly brutal head butt to Amber's face, breaking her nose as an answer to the vicious punch to her left eye, Dean finally had enough.

"Enough!" He yelled, but neither girl stopped fighting. Dean, rushing towards them to pull them off of each other...froze mid step.

"Amber, no!"

Amber's head had tilted upwards, nose bleeding heavily, eyes glowing golden. In less than a second Claire felt herself being hoisted above the ground. Before she could comprehend what was happening, she flew across the room and was slammed painfully against the closest wall, pinned there, two feet above the ground by an invisible force. Dean's yelling of Amber's name barely registered with her. Claire took in Amber's face, her glowing eyes. She had no idea how, but Amber was the reason she was in this position. What the fuck was going on?

The loud thud of Claire's body slamming against the wall, accompanied by Dean's call of her name, finally penetrated Amber's grace-induced high. In this suspended state of awareness, completely synced with her grace, Amber peered at Claire. She walked the few feet that separated them and stood right in front of her, taking in the blonde's face. She could see that Claire's eye socket was fractured and she felt her own nose was broken, nasal bones crushed and her nose off to the side. It was like she was seeing in 3-D. She could see the skin and below, the bone and tendons, and organs. More than that she saw beneath the physical trauma. She could finally read Claire's messy emotional state. Her shock and fear, her anger, her confusion, and deeper down a sincere caring towards Amber herself. So natural was this awareness, she responded to it instinctually. Later, Amber wouldn't be able to say exactly how this happened, just that it did.

Dean rushed to the two girls, shouting their names, trying to intervene, but neither of them seemed to hear him. He reached for Amber, uncertain of how far she could go in her aggravated state. He needed to make sure she wouldn't seriously hurt Claire or even herself. When his hand clasped around her shoulder, he gasped at the waves of soothing energy that traveled through his palm to his whole body. Retrieving his hand when he couldn't take the heat she was emitting, he remained watching breathless. Somehow, he knew that Amber was not in aggressive mode anymore.

Reaching out, Amber touched her palm to Claire's forehead and a brilliant explosion of light shone from her touch. Allowing her hand to remain on Claire, Amber could sense as the numerous bruises and cuts from their fight healed, one after the other, until the job was done. Taking a step back, she watched Claire's shocked face, mouth gaping open, eyes enlarged, as she was slowly released from the invisible hold.

When Claire's shaky legs touched the floor, Amber closed her eyes and allowed her grace to engulf her own body in its familiar restoring warmth, healing herself. Simultaneously, the room was flooded with a vermeil light, more pure than any man made illumination. Amber felt the warmth of this light seep deep into her body, permeating down to the nerve and cell, as she gave herself a 'once over', healing up the broken bones, the scratches, bruises and strains.

Then it was done.

Watching Amber heal herself, Claire stood there, unable to speak. For her own experience, she still felt the residual afterglow, this tingling warmth from the silver-golden glow running along the length of her limbs, from her fingertips, to her toes, to the roots of her hair. It felt like she'd stepped into an encompassing aura of pure energy that filled her and surrounded her. She had no words for this. Who would?

Dean knew exactly what had happened. His mind was racing to catch up with all the implications. Amber could heal. This was good. Amber had lost it, showing her true self to Claire. Using her powers on her. Healing her. Healing her was good. But Claire now knew. And

that was bad. Really, fucking bad. He was terrified of what this now meant. Reaching Amber, he grabbed her arm, jerking her around to face him.

"Amber, what did you do?" His voice was a low growl, full of anger, worry, but not surprise.

Claire, while still dazed, understood what she was witnessing...and she could clearly see Dean wasn't surprised. Angered, but not surprised; not frightened. Dean knew what Amber had done.

Like the big reveal in a movie that explains the opening scene, Claire was realizing this was the secret, or at least part of the secret, that the Winchesters had been hiding all along. Amber was more than she appeared. Claire didn't know how to feel. She wasn't frightened, she wasn't repulsed. She was dazed and shocked. Curiosity was growing, too.

Facing Dean, Amber was looking up into her brother's face, only then fully realising what she'd done. Oh god!

"Dammit, Amber!"

Dean's tone was exacting and slightly scared. Keeping his face on his sister's, not letting up on his hold, he waited for her to respond. His own face, the angry mask of his own fear and guilt. He was partly to blame for this. If he hadn't let them get into this fight, and let it go this far, it would've never happened.

"Dean, I didn't mean to, I swear. It just happened! I couldn't control it! I was angry and hurt and wanted her off of me… Next thing I know she's on the wall… And then...then I saw how badly she was hurt and I just...I just healed her." Amber was feeling helplessly undone by this involuntary impulse. It hadn't been consciousness; pure instinct.

Sighing, sadness and worry replacing his anger, Dean's grip slacked up and Amber slowly withdrew her arm, tears forming in her eyes.

"What the fuck just happened?" Claire's voice was shaking with shock.

Amber and Dean exchanged a look.

"Is there even a point in trying to cover this up?" Amber asked, resigned. She knew full well her own question left them only one route to take, but there was no point in trying to lie their way out of this. Claire saw her, heard her. She was smart. She'd have this figured out before this day was over.

Dean turned his back to the two girls bringing both hands to rub at his face as he started pacing in the small room. This was on him. On, fucking, him!

Amber watched her brother for a couple of seconds before turning to face Claire.

"Claire… truth is, I'm a Nephilim."

The blonde's mouth dropped open. Again. This was the last possible thing she expected to hear. Her eyes turned to peer at Dean, a disbelieving expression plastered on her face.

"You fucking idiot! You can't keep it in your pants with humans and you had to branch out to fucking angels, too?"

"What?"

Dean's expression of disbelief was explosive. Centering his thoughts, Dean shot Claire a warning look.

"Watch it! I'm not good at keeping my temper in the best of days. Don't fucking try me now!"

Claire scoffed at his words, before her eyes enlarged in horror. "Oh my God! Don't tell me that fucking scumbag used my father's vessel to…"

"No, no! Claire, it's not Dean… And it's definitely not Cas. It was John. Dean and Sam...they're my brothers."

Silence filled the room.

Claire's brow was now furrowed as she did the math in her head. So many things fell into place. Sam's constant interventions, Dean letting them happen, the physical resemblance among the three of them…

"How can you possibly be alive if you're a Nephilim?" Claire asked next. She didn't know all there was in Nephilim lore, but she knew enough. And half-angel, half-human babies didn't get to be born. Angels would make sure of that.

"My parents managed to hide me, by binding my powers…Which only recently came back to me... Look it's a long and complicated story, but that's the truth and now you finally know it," Amber answered, her tone quieting to a low whisper.

Stepping in close, Dean put a hand on Claire's shoulder.

"And you can't breathe a word about this. To nobody, do you hear me, Claire? This is life and death!"

Sighing, Dean looked Claire in the face, seeing the shocked expression, the white color of her skin. This was frightening. Taking a deep breath, he continued.

"There are large powers after Amber, literally heaven and hell, who will stop at nothing to get to her. Knowing makes you a target. Do you get this?"

"What large powers? Heaven? Angels? I thought there weren't that many left," Claire asked, trying to sort all this out.

"Angels are just a small part of the problem, Claire," Amber answered her. "And Dean's right. The main reason we kept this from you guys was to keep all of you from becoming targets, as well."

Too much. Claire' mind was spinning and she needed a moment to just sit and take this all in.

Sliding down the wall, Claire let herself crumple to the floor, her body collapsing so her mind didn't have to maintain too many activities. This enormous knowledge-dump was more than it could handle.

Amber looked at Dean, seeking an answer and hoping to get some direction. Dean, seeing her implied quest for reassurance, simply nodded, letting her know Claire was fine. Just let this happen for now. He conveyed this all in one look. Later it would occur to Amber that the brothers communicated in looks, yet responded with full awareness. And this was how they did it. She was starting to do this, too.

"Amber, go get Claire some water. And get her some coffee, too. Put a lot of sugar in it. She needs the jolt."

Relieved to be given direction, Amber ran out of the training room, her fears abating a bit as she took action, any action, glad she wasn't in charge.

Dean watched Claire gathering herself and considered his next move. Taking his phone out of his jean's pocket, he called Sam. He needed the backup. When his brother's hoarse voice answered. Dean almost grimaced.

"Party's over, Sammy. We need you back."

"What are you talking about? Is everyone alright?" Sam's voice, suddenly alert, sounded from the other side of the line.

"Claire knows about Amber. I'll explain when you get back. But I need you here, man."

Sam's brain was a kaleidoscope of possibilities. What had happened? This was what they'd tried to avoid, to stop. So now what?

"Dude! I left you guys alone for less than 15 hours… What happened?"

"Not over the phone, Sam. Just… Get your ass back here, alright?"

"I'll be there in forty," came the sighed reply.

As Dean hung up, Amber rushed back into the room, glass of water and mug of coffee in her hands. She walked straight to Claire, plopping down next to her on the floor and handing her the water. Once the blonde downed its contents, Amber offered the coffee with a small smile.

"Lots of sugar in it," she informed Claire, uncertain of what she could or should say at this point.

"I'd prefer whiskey," was her reply.

"Don't blame ya," Dean mumbled. At her hopeful glance, he shook his head. "Not a chance."

A hint of a smile tugging at her mouth, Claire shifted her focus to Amber, who was still offering the coffee to her. Taking it, Claire felt the warmth of the mug permeate her hand and it felt good. Only then did Claire realize how cold she was. Wrapping her other hand around the mug, the heat from the coffee became a lifeline.

Dean understood what was happening.

"Claire, you get a few gulps into you, I mean really big gulps now. Then, you go take a hot shower. And keep the door open."

At the incredulous look Amber gave him, Dean clarified his intent, peeved he was being labeled a perv so quickly. Not that it wasn't true, but it wasn't right now.

"No, geez! Amber, you need to be able to hear if Claire falls or...or something. It's Just a precaution. She's in shock and might faint. I think Claire would rather you pick her up out of the bottom of the tub than me. You capiche?"

Understanding Dean's true intent, Amber settled down. It made sense, but Claire fainting just didn't seem likely. But ok, she could do this.

Standing up, Amber extended a hand to Claire, who reached up and let herself be hauled to her feet. Standing there, both girls watched to see that Claire was steady. Amber's hand on her shoulder, Claire allowed herself to be guided out of the training room.

Like the last officer at the scene of an accident, Dean found himself now alone, reviewing the wreckage of their situation. He wanted to be angry with Amber, but he just couldn't muster this in his mind. She had a good heart, and her grace being a further impulse to protect and heal, she'd been overcome by instinct. Sam had mentioned this might happen, just part of her development. But why did it have to happen on his watch?

Scrubbing his face with both hands, he stood still, his eyes sweeping the room. Ok. Forward. And he needed coffee. Coffee, with a double-shot of whiskey in it.

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"You thought letting them "fight it out" was a good idea?" Sam asked incredulously. "Dude, they're teenage girls. We're not playing in Smack Down!"

"I know Sam. Don't you think I figured this out?" Dean felt miserable with his obvious lack of good judgement, but this was their reality. They had to deal with it.

"But Dean, what did you see coming out of this?" Sam was genuinely curious. Dean had to have had an endgame in mind when he made that disastrous call.

"I don't know what I thought would happen. They'd duke it out. Amber would win, and then we'd get on with it. No more bitchiness, no more territorial pissing contests."

"Amber would win? So you figured she'd beat Claire, even with Claire's unexpected moves? Are you kidding me? "

Sam couldn't wrap his mind around how this was supposed to 'work out.'

"Does it matter? Can we change the subject?"

"No, we can't! So, stop bitching about it, Sam! It is what it is and now we deal with it. We told Claire, in no uncertain terms, she can't tell anyone. Not even Jody."

"We can't have Claire lie to Jody for us, Dean! That's not okay," Sam commented.

"We won't. But it's not like we can share this kind of intel over the phone! So it has to wait," Dean replied in a frustrated tone. "Dude, for someone who just got some, you're still a goddamn bitch!"

Looking at him disbelievingly Sam scoffed. "Really, dude?"

"What are we doing now, Sam?"

"Pray this doesn't blow up in our faces for a start…" Sighing, Sam used his right hand to rub at his jawline as he tried to gather his thoughts and overcome his frustration. Dean had been stupid, but he was right. He wasn't exactly helping.

"Okay…maybe we can turn this in our favor. Claire knows. This alone will make her feel a bit more in the loop. She won't feel excluded anymore. So, less of a flight risk, and possibly more cooperation in general. Not bad. And for a while this is gonna be our secret. Ours and hers. That will mean something to her."

Dean was listening. This situation held possibilities.

"So, with Claire in the loop, let's share with her some of the things we have had to keep hidden.
Make her feel special. And watch her. This may end up being the camaraderie that the two need to heal their rift. 'Cause you know, they've not been on the best of terms since Claire took the Impala," Sam extrapolated.

"And… Claire now knows you're not Amber's dad. Extra brownie points for all of us. One less thing for her and Amber to fight over. Though I imagine, they'll still try to monopolise your attention, but it would be much milder now, I think. We'll have to wait and see."

Dean was seeing their way through this ...and how this couldn be an end to the girls' constant feuding.

"And Jody?" Dean asked.

"We pray some more that she doesn't kill us for keeping all of this a secret."

"Sam, you do a lot of praying."

"Yeah, well, that's what happens when someone has an idiot for a brother!"

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"Hey, Amber, pass the ketchup, would ya?"

Silently passing the bottle of Heinz ketchup, Amber kept her eyes focused on Sam as he spoke.

"So, that's why we had to keep this all from you, from everyone, Claire. We didn't like doing this, but the less everyone knew, the less of a chance of any of you becoming targeted by demons."

Sitting at the table, this incident had merited a 'family meeting'. More coffee had been brewed, hashbrowns made, bacon cooked up, and eggs scrambled. Waffles even make an appearance...and they never had waffles. This was serious business.

Claire took this all in. Sam had summarized all the scattered information Dean and Amber had given her earlier in the training room. Sam's coherent thought process was much easier to follow and her own much calmer state allowed her to subsume this revealed saga.

"So… What "large powers" are after you?" Claire asked, looking at Amber.

Exchanging a look with her brothers, Amber answered in a confident tone, "Hell, heaven, hunters… You name it. But our main concern is demons. They seem more invested in… in finding me."

"Why?" Claire further prompted. "I mean… I get why angels would be invested in finding you. To kill you. You being an abomination and all. But, why demons?"

"Gee, Claire! Thanks," Amber scoffed at the use of the word abomination.

Shrugging, the blonde replied. "That's how they see you, isn't it? No point in sugarcoating it. But don't evade the question. Why are demons more invested? What's so special about you?"

Taking the lead, Dean answered that. "We're still gathering intel on that. But we do know that Nephilims are rare prey. And… well, parts of a Nephilim can be used for some heavy-ass magic."

"Parts?" Claire asked, looking perplexed. She knew a lot, but she didn't know magic.

"Heart, blood, god damn nails I'm betting," Amber grumbled. "Basically I'm a walking bag of black magic ingredients."

Claire listened and her inner mind theater was seeing Amber gutted, carved up, and it made her cringe internally.

"How do you know all this?" Claire asked next.

"We got our sources, Barbie. We've been around for a while. We know people in all the right places."

"What about you being an abomination? Volatile creatures of destruction? Does that hold any truth or is it angel bullshit?"

Glancing at Dean, Sam took the lead here.

"Angels protect a certain order in heaven and on earth. Part of their duty is to keep this order in balance and the extraordinary power of a nephilim could potentially destroy this balance...in heaven and on earth. So, their marching orders have always been to kill the mother of the nephilim before the nephilim was born. It's brutal, but they're brutal in their directives. In reality we don't really know how a Nephilim could possibly be, as none has ever survived. Not for long that is. Cas mentioned a few of them have made it into existence before being smitten."

"I like the sound of that… Volatile creature of destruction. Would be kinda cool," Amber commented.

Sam shot her a look. "In our experience Amber is far from destructive. And from what Dean described about her today, I see her more as a healer rather than a killer or someone who would cause harm."

"So, Amber has extraordinary power...for being half angel?" Claire was trying to understand. To her mind, being half angel would reduce Amber's power rather than make her extraordinarily powerful.

"Half-human, half-angel, more powerful than both," Sam recited. "That's the nature of a hybrid. Stronger than both the elements that brought her into existence. Or at least an Angel-Human hybrid. Kind of like a Mean-Mouth Bass. Do you know about this breed of fish?"

Looking around the table, everyone else wondered why Sam knew about fish.

Feeling geeky, Sam persisted, a slightly embarrassed grin on his face. Yeah, it was obscure, but it was a great example.

"You see, sportsmen liked both large-mouth and small-mouth bass for fishing. Each has their good attributes. So, they bred them together, thinking they'd get a nice hybrid with some of the best qualities of each. What resulted, and kept resulting with each breeding trial, was that the offspring were mean. The offspring were very different from either parent in temperament and behavior. In the lakes where they were planted, these new hybrids decimated the native flora and fauna, were cannibalistic, very aggressive and smart. And they were stronger than either of their parental genotypes. They destroyed the ecosystem of every lake they were planted in. The scientists who bred them named them, Mean-Mouth Bass."

WTF?!

Amber remained gaping at Sam. Turning to Claire after a few silent seconds she added, "Only, like, I'm not a cannibal and I have no immediate plans of exterminating all humans and angels. Okay… I can't promise about angels, but definitely not humans."

"But how come you're John's daughter? I haven't read that much about your species, but from the little that I know, it's angels mating with human women… Sons of heavens and daughters of earth...or whatever," Claire asked next.

"Cas mentioned this, too. He was also surprised. He doesn't think there has ever been another Nephilim conceived by a human father. Angels don't really have a sex. They just ride whatever vessel will have them, but I'm supposedly the only case he's ever heard of being born by an angel in a woman's vessel with a human dad," Amber explained.

"Is that significant?" Claire asked, trying to think why would it matter.

"We don't really know," Sam replied. And it was true. There were so many things they still didn't know.

"So that's the reason you were so paranoid about every little thing back in Sioux Falls," Claire surmised. "Why you pitched a fit when Amber went on stage and sang, why you didn't want her out of your sight…"

"You certainly grasped that faster than she did, but yeah," Dean commented, shooting a look in Amber's direction at the memory of her tavern birthday party.

Crossing her arms and looking away, Amber voiced her embarrassment silently.

"And the bouncer…. that guy. He was a demon...and he was at the tavern."

Amber held her breath. Was she going to get implicated being at the cemetery with Claire. Arms still folded, and making eye contact with her, Amber felt herself freeze in place. Would Claire say too much?

Claire felt Amber's eyes on her, and momentarily glanced at her. Claire allowed a reassuring smile to cross her face, before continuing. She had so many questions for them and she no longer felt excluded. Actually, she felt sorry for Amber's situation. It sucked.

Sitting back in her chair, Claire was reviewing the full implication of his presence at the tavern, at the graveyard...around Amber. She remembered the demons' words, which had made no sense back then, but did now. It was then that she realised how truely risky that joyride had been. Had she known what Amber was, who was after her, she might never have asked her to join. Sure, she would have still gone on her own, but she wouldn't have tried to persuade Amber to come. Briefly, Claire marvelled at the girl's balls, following her out there, knowing how potentially dangerous it all was.

Then her mind went to Kyle and how angry he had been that she and Amber had been at the cemetery… and then the next day at the tavern when Amber joined the band for a couple of songs during their lunch. So Kyle knew? Did the Winchesters know that Kyle knew? She guessed Amber did, but had she told Sam and Dean? She'd have to tread carefully on this.

"So, is this why Dean hates Kyle so much?" Claire had to ask this. Nothing like kicking the hornets' nest.

Flashing angry eyes at her, Dean retorted, "No. It's 'cause he's a scumball dick and he doesn't need to be sniffing around Amber."

Claire laughed out loud. This was too funny. Dean was still protecting Amber as if she were his daughter. So, this part of their act...it wasn't an act. Dean really was an overbearing dickwad.

Sitting there, smirking at this circus, Claire had only one answer, "Good to know."

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"Make sure the meat is finely ground. Oh, and did you mix equal parts beef and pork?"

Jody's disembodied voice was coming through Dean's cell speakerphone as it lay on the counter. Having called her to get the recipe, Dean handed the phone off to the two girls. Amber and Claire were being guided through the making of the Greek-inspired hamburgers Jody had improvised for Dean. They were making an entire Greek-themed Christmas eve feast. After the previous day's drama, a festive meal and some quality time among all of the bunker's inhabitants, was more than needed.

"Yes. We got equal parts of beef and ground pork. Kind of hard to find ground pork. It was mostly all already made into sausage. Dean found some for us. He was motivated," Amber laughed at this image.

During their shopping trip, Jody's dictated list on his phone, Dean had scoured the entire meat department at the grocery store coming up empty-handed. He'd finally asked the butcher, who pointed out the two remaining packages of ground pork. Coming back to their cart, he'd looked like a little kid, the two pound packages of ground pork in his hands, smiling ear-to-ear. It had cracked Amber up.

Nonetheless, Claire was getting excited about the two of them cooking together again. And with Jody on speakerphone, giving them directions as they cooked, it was so reminiscent of her, Alex and Jody cooking together for the holidays.

"Okay, so we've grated onions, some garlic… What else do we mix in?" Claire asked as she looked into the big bowl where the ground meat was placed.

"You know, I never thought I'd live to see the day where you specifically, Claire, would be asking me for cooking recipes," Jody teased through the phone. Even though she couldn't see it with her own eyes, she could simply picture Claire's impressive eye roll at her words.

"Cut the commentary, Jody," Claire grumbled. "Now what else?"

Jody grinned on her end. This was warming her heart. Continuing with her instruction, she organized her thoughts.

"You'll need one egg for every pound of meat you got there. And dry oregano, basil, and parsley. Oh! And don't forget the breadcrumbs!"

Amber retrieved the eggs from the fridge, while Claire looked through the kitchen cabinets for the herbs and spices.

"Once you mix those in, some olive oil, salt, and pepper and you mix everything together. Knead them well until everything is blended in and the texture of the meat is smooth. This is very important. Then into the fridge for an hour before you form the patties and put them on a broiler pan to cook in the oven. You DO have a broiler pan, right?"

"Yes, Jody. We have a broiler pan. Though I'm pretty sure the patties wouldn't feel insulted if we used a regular pan instead," was Claire's annoyed response. Jody was rather insistent on the right tools for the right job. Claire, moving to the table, where Amber was adding the final ingredients into the bowl, she glanced inside at the raw contents that waited to be kneaded together.

"I'm so not putting my hands in there," Claire commented with a grimace.

Jody, hearing Claire's reluctance, rolled her own eyes, mildly annoyed by this girl's attitude.

"Claire, it's the only way to thoroughly mix this...unless you have a modern food processor. Do you have one of those?"

Jody was quite sure they didn't. These girls needed to put on their big-girl panties and mix this with their hands.

"No," was Claire's resentful response. "Hey, Amber, do you think we could fool Sam or Dean into doing this for us?"

Amber, seeing where this was going, and knowing Claire was going to drag her feet, had enough of this.

"Nope! It's okay, I'll do it," was Amber's need to move this along, eyeing the bowl with some reluctance herself. She liked cooking, but handling raw ground meat didn't seem all that appealing.

Turning to Claire, Amber directed her.

"You get started on the pie. Rinse and crumble up the feta cheese or something. Spinach is draining in the sink."

"Who died and made you Dean?" Claire grumbled at the order, but moved to follow the direction, anyways. So long as she didn't get ground meat and egg under her fingernails. Jody's chuckle could be heard from the phone. She couldn't help it. Claire's snark could be very entertaining, especially when it wasn't insulting or directed to her.

Amber looked at Claire sideways, not liking her snarkiness, but letting it go. They had three other dishes to make and they needed to get on with it.

Digging her hands into the bowl of ground meat, egg and breadcrumbs, Amber felt the squish, and also felt the ingredients mixing as she repeatedly kneaded and squished the mixture. It wasn't getting smooth, even as it was mixing well. Leaning over to speak towards the cell phone, Amber directed a question to Jody.

"So, I'm mixing the burgers, but it's not getting smooth. It's kinda grainy."

"It's going to take a few minutes. I usually have to mix this for around eight minutes to get the texture I want. Keep at it," Jody's voice filled the kitchen and Amber realized that it felt just like Jody was right there with them. She was missing Jody. Claire, keeping her own feelings to herself, was missing Jody so much! This improvised cooking class had been her idea, and she'd been relieved when Dean didn't object. They were using his cell, her own still being locked up. Dean poked his head into the kitchen from time-to-time to listen and keep an eye on the progress of dinner. He was looking forward to those Greek hamburgers.

"God, is this always so wet and...so icky? I don't remember it being like this when we made the pie back in Sioux Falls," Claire commented as she handled the cheese, trying to rinse it without it crumbling in her hands under the faucet.

"Of course it was, Claire. Since when did you become so squeamish with food?" Alex's voice sounded through the phone.

"Oh, look who's finally speaking to me," Claire commented drily. Even though she'd never admit this, her heart fluttered at the sound of Alex's voice. She had refused to speak to her every single time Claire and Jody spoke on the phone throughout the couple of weeks Claire had been at the bunker. And Claire had really missed her. Missed Alex enough to keep her comment, about Alex being squeamish with blood and fangs, to herself. She'd save it for another time.

"I'm not squeamish. It's this cheese that's different from the one we usually buy," she grumbled.

"It's the same brand, Claire!" Amber piped up.

Turning to throw her an annoyed look, Claire didn't reply. Grimacing, she focused on the task at hand, and placed the block of cheese in a bowl, before starting to crumble it.

"So what are you guys making over there?" Claire asked, hoping to get some more interaction with Alex and needing to keep the conversation going. Hearing their voices would be the closest thing she'd have to being close to them this Christmas and she was savoring every minute of it.

"We're making Chiainti-braised beef ribs. And a Greek white bean soup with green olives and marinated red bell peppers.

"Hoping we'll have time to eat it together before Jody's called back to work," Alex added dourly.

There were many times they'd made dinner only to have Jody have to leave before they could enjoy it together. Quickly dishing up a few servings into a tupperware container so Jody had something to eat, was the best they could do. This interruption was always a disappointment, but what could they do. Jody was the sheriff.

"No such problem here," Amber added. They were in the bunker and nothing was changing this.

Claire looked over at Amber, slightly annoyed at being reminded of this forced containment. Being in the know about Amber being a Nephilim, the two girls had discussed a lot the previous night. Claire now knew what had happened the day she spotted Amber returning to the bunker with Cas and understood the numerous implications of her situation. She still didn't particularly appreciate the lockdown that they all had to suffer because of this. Especially knowing Amber was practically a super-powered-Uber ride able to take them anywhere they'd like to be in a second. Knowing she couldn't tell any of this to Jody, not with Alex in the room, and definitely not over the phone.

Amber ignored Claire's dirty looks.

"Jody, it's getting really smooth now," Amber reported regarding the meat mixture.

"Now what?"

"Now you grab a handful, really fill up your hands. Then roll this glob of meat into a round ball. You know, roll it until it's smooth. Then place it on the cutting board and flatten it till it's about one-and-a-half inches thick. Pat it down. Then use a spatula to transfer it to the broiler pan. Don't put this under the broiler until you're just about ready to serve dinner. This is the last thing you'll cook. For now, just put it on the sheet pan and back in the fridge. Take it out 30 minutes before you plan to broil them. Room temperature meat cooks the best."

Jody's instructions were detailed and organized. Both girls felt confident trying all of this with her guidance.

"Claire, how are you getting on with the pie?"

Squeezing out the spinach, Claire was feeling the familiar texture from when she'd done this at Jody's.

"I'm nearly nearly done with the spinach, Jody."

"Good. Now let that sit in the colander while you slice up the shallots. Do you have the butter melted?"

The kitchen door opened as Dean stuck his head in. He stood in the doorway, watching these "three" women cooking in the kitchen. Hearing Jody's voice, Dean called out a friendly greeting.

"Hey Jody. How are you doing?"

Two sets of eyes looked up to see him standing in the doorway, halfway between being in the kitchen and the hallway. The girls looked a bit thrown off, having been immersed in their own world. Dean's sudden presence felt like an intrusion.

"Oh, hey there Dean. We're doing well. Alex is over here cooking and I'm getting to enjoy cooking with these two. You and Sam are really going to eat like kings. These girls are cooking up a storm and they're doing really well," was Jody's returned greeting.

Smiling at the girls, Dean looked around the kitchen counter to see several stages of assemblage happening. Recognizing the Greek hamburgers, which Jody had talked him through once before, he noted that the burger patties looked right. And the smell in the kitchen was so good. Garlic, cheese and onion, these aromatics were triggering an atmosphere of memory in the bunker's kitchen, transporting them all back to Jody's house...and to Jody.

Claire, hearing this familiar exchange between Jody and Dean, was taken by surprise at her own response. She suddenly felt overwhelmed by feelings of loss and longing to be at Jody's.

The events of the past few months, starting with Amber's initial visit to Sioux Falls, Claire ending up at the bunker, and now...her discovering Amber's secret... with the deadly implications that she couldn't tell Jody...well, Claire felt suddenly overcome. It came out of nowhere and Claire felt slapped by her feelings. The smells, the memories...this was all too much and Claire felt her eyes become watery. Just as a sudden change in reality changes your perspective, having so many different scenes change, each layering emotions over each other, Claire's mental processing was unable to keep up with it all. Momentarily, he was breaking apart.

And her emotional response pissed her off. She turned away from Dean and Amber's sight, not wishing for anyone to see this weakness. Silently keeping this to herself, Claire continued to slice up the shallots, using her sleeve to catch the few stray tears that were rolling down her cheeks. She kept working and felt this pinnacle of emotional release slowly fading into the background as she worked.

Unaware, Dean continued his jockular conversation, his simple happiness being assured by food.

"Man, dinner is going to be Awesome! It smells just like when you make this," Dean called out to the kitchen, intending this for Jody.

Jody, not missing an opportunity to encourage her girls, gently redirected Dean's praise.

"Claire's made this several times. She's becoming an experienced cook. First time you made these burgers, you weren't bad, either," was Jody's encouragement. Dean had cooking chops.

"Yeah, but having someone else make these, they taste so much better," was Dean's smirking response.

Raising an eyebrow at the comment, as she kept working on the patties, Amber eyed him. "In or out, Dean! And if you come in, you're gonna help!"

"I think Sammy needs me in the library," Dean shook his head, a big, stupid grin on his face.

"Yeah, Sam needs you," Amber snickered as she watched him fleeing, Jody's laughter coming over the phone's speaker in the background.

As soon as the door closed behind him, she turned to glance at Claire. Despite the blonde's best efforts to not be noticed, Amber had felt the sudden emotional shift in her. The intense sadness and longing rolling off of Claire.

Moving to the sink she rinsed her hands before moving close to Claire, leaning on the counter next to her. Mindful of Jody still being on speaker's phone she spoke to Claire in a hushed tone.

"You okay?"

Claire glanced at her for all of a second, before turning her gaze back to the shallots she was chopping up.

"Why wouldn't I be?" she asked right back, but kept her own voice quiet to avoid being heard by Jody.

"You know, I can sort of do more than just make people fly around, blast or heal them," Amber whispered pointedly. "I felt you losing it just now."

Expression suddenly angry Claire paused her work and turned to glare at Amber.

"You stay out of my head," Claire whispered heatedly.

"I wasn't trying to get into your head! Your head kinda got into mine is a more accurate way to describe this! Your emotions are everywhere! I'm not Dean, I wouldn't try to pry into other people's heads. Geez," Amber whispered back, annoyedly. Well, at least not all the time, she added silently to herself.

Claire tossed her another dirty look, but seemed somewhat appeased.

"I'm fine. I just missed Jody for a while. And with everything that happened yesterday… It all kinda caught up with me okay? I'm good. Breakdown over!"

"You girls do know I can hear you whispering, right?"

"Yeah, but can you hear what we're whispering about?" Amber asked, amusedly. She knew Jody couldn't. Not over the kitchen's noise and how quiet their exchange had been.

"No," Jody admitted.

"Yay for us then," Claire quipped.

Amber chuckled, but her eyes remained on Claire. When the blonde mouthed a silent "I'm fine!" she finally nodded and walked back to the bowl of ground meat to finish up the rest of the patties.

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The trench-coat adorned figure quietly followed a group of teenage girls inside the busy mall. Worried glances of random strangers lingered on the creepy man who followed the girls, wondering if they should be concerned.

Following the girls into a Hot Topics, his appearance caused the manager and clerk to huddle together, as this quickly made this weird man their problem. The shop's assistant, a girl in her early twenties, walked reluctantly closer to the man. This being her first job out of college, she was learning by the seat of her pants.

"Can I help you," she asked him, as an intervention for the group of girls the man had followed in.

"Yes, please. I'd like to buy some gifts that girls like," was Cas' deeply misunderstood statement.

Cocking his head to the side, Cas watched the shop assistant's face take on a shocked expression, while he also saw from the corner of his eye the group of girls exchange creeped-out looks. Their collective alarm was confusing to Cas.

"Not these girls," he added in an attempt to sound reassuring.

The group of girls escaped the store, shooting unnerved looks at this trench coat creep leaving Cas and the dumbfounded clerk alone.

"It's for my...nieces. They're teenagers. Sixteen and seventeen. And I need two Christmas gifts for them." Cas' voice remained flat, his face deadpan and serious.

"Oh! Uhm… Alright," the young woman answered feeling a bit more at ease with this explanation. "Do you have any idea of what they'd like? Clothes? Jewelry? Accessories?"

"I don't. I was hoping you could pick some things out for me. I'm not really knowledgeable on these things," Castiel said.

"Okay… What would you like me to show you then? Clothes? Jewelry? Accessories?" She repeated her questions hoping she didn't sound impatient. She did want to get rid of him quickly, but she didn't wish to trigger his ire if she was too obvious.

"Yes."

"Yes? I'm not sure I understand… Which do you mean?"

"Show me everything," was Castiel's response.

Other customers in the store, having noticed the presence of this weird guy, were slipping out leaving the manager, her clerk and this 'stalker' to their own fate.

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Dean headed up to the library. He and Sam needed to finish their plan for that night. Climbing up the few steps, Dean found Sam sitting and reading near the Christmas tree. This had been a cheerful element that had lifted the atmosphere. Having experienced this for the first time, he wouldn't be opposed to having this again next year. If they were still living in the bunker.

"Sammy, the girls are really going to town. You should smell the kitchen. And Jody is keeping them on point. That woman is amazing."

Looking up from his book, Sam smiled. He knew this was good for them, good for all the women in both locations.

"I imagine Jody has missed them. Alex has probably missed Claire, too," Sam commented. He thought about discussing with Dean then and there, when they'd invite Jody over to talk to her about Amber and their situation. When he turned to face his brother though, he stopped in his tracks. He hadn't seen Dean so relaxed and in a good mood in ages. This could wait till tomorrow.

"Man, finding filo sheets, that was hard. I had no idea what that stuff was even called."

"Yeah," Sam said with a soft smile. They'd spent an entire morning driving all over to gather up the ingredients. They'd even had to go to Down's grocery. This place was the most expensive store in Lebanon, but they had much more available, as well. Filo sheets and shallots were just not that common in Kansas.

Looking up from his book Sam asked, "You have Claire's gift wrapped?"

Sitting himself down, glass of bourbon in his hand, Dean took a deep drink before answering.

"Yep. Wrapped up in a nice paper bag. It's a knife, Sammy. How much wrapping does this take?"

Sam, a bit frustrated at Dean's lack of attention to detail, just let it drop and refocused his attention back on his book. Chances are Claire would be happy with this gift no matter how it was presented.

"You wrapped up Amber' gift with Christmas paper?"

Dean was genuinely curious. With Sam's lack of response, he was starting to think he'd missed something big. Maybe he should make the effort. But how does one wrap a knife?

At Sam's lack of response he asked in a concerned tone, "So, you think I should wrap it up for her?"

Sam, tired of fighting for every little patch of ground, was letting this drop. Claire was getting a gift and he was pretty sure she'd like it. That was enough. He'd talked Dean into getting gifts for the girls. It was their first time doing something like this and they figured these gifts should be something the girls would really like. After their day out, Dean had been a much easier sell on the idea. He and Claire had really enjoyed spending time looking at guns and knives. Of course, Sam had Amber's gift picked out before they'd left the bookstore.

Seeing that Sam had wrapped up his gift to Amber, and it was lying under their tiny Christmas tree, Dean was getting the feeling that he was failing somehow.

"Where'd you put it. The wrapping paper?"

"It's in my room. I'll go get it for you," Sam responded, hiding his smirk. Getting up from his chair, he set his book aside. Huh? This was an unexpected thing for Dean. What had changed his mind? No matter, it would be good to have both girls' gifts wrapped and sitting under the tree. He'd seen other people's pictures, and the advertisements and movies always depicted presents under the tree. The gifts he and Jess exchanged were always wrapped too. He supposed this was right.

Waiting for Sam to return, Dean was deep in thought. This time last year, they'd been here in the bunker, too, but it had been so different. No tree, no coffee visits, no group shopping trips…their lives were vastly different with the girls here. And man, so many more trips to the drug store. He'd finally become less squeamish about the tampon aisle.

But overall, he and Sam had so much more filling their lives. Grounding them. The responsibility was heavy, but there...there was this occasional happiness, too. Sort of odd in this unfamiliar way. He didn't think much more about this as Sam returned with a roll of wrapping paper, a pair of scissors, and some tape. Unceremoniously handing it all to Dean, Sam resettled himself in his chair.

"Ah, how do I do this?"

Sam, barely moving as he responded, "You're a smart man, you figure it out," and went back to reading his book.

Looking down at these items, he wondered how this was supposed to go. Retrieving the knife from the desk drawer he had it in, he placed it on the side table as he started considering how this would work.

The quiet steps that ascended the library's stairs, made both brothers turn to watch Castiel walk in the room. Both brothers' eyes enlarged at seeing the two Christmas gift bags he was holding.

Castiel stared back at them brow furrowing slightly. "What?"

"You bought gifts?" Dean asked, surprised.

"You said you got gifts for Amber and Claire to open tonight. I thought it appropriate to get them something, too," the angel answered.

"And look at that, Dean, he even thought of a Christmas gift bag," Sam smirked at his brother.

"That's cheating," Dean grumbled. "Wrapping is more work!"

"The nice lady at the store wrapped them up before putting them in the gift bags," Castiel answered, earning a scowl from Dean.

"Put them under the tree, Cas, I'm sure the girls will love these," Sam said in an amused tone.

"What did you get them anyway?" Dean asked next, eyeing the angel suspiciously.

"The tradition says nobody is supposed to know what's the gift, Dean," Cas answered, as he placed the two bags next to Sam's wrapped gift.

Dean only grumbled in response as he turned back to glare at the wrapping paper. Now he definitely had to figure this out.

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Brushing the last filo sheet with melted butter, Amber and Claire worked quickly to fold these last few sheets over the top of the filling.

"Remember, you've got to work quickly so the filo doesn't dry out. How's it going Amber?"

Jody's voice inquired, knowing this was only Amber's second time to work with filo. Without her right there beside them, it was an exercise in virtual kitchen management. Jody was up for the task, but remained mildly concerned that Amber might feel a bit lost.

"Don't worry so much Jody. I'm doing fine. Claire showed me and so did you, remember?"

Smiling to herself, Amber was thinking that if only Jody knew what she was really capable of, she'd be a lot less concerned about her capabilities in cooking. Amber was nailing this.

"It sounds like you girls are going great. Claire, did you two have any trouble with the melomakarona?"

"No. They're ready and waiting to be devoured," Claire answered. She'd repeatedly licked the boiled honey water off of her fingers after they'd dropped the still-hot cookies into this. Coming right out of the oven, these little balls of shortbread-covered walnuts sucked the honey syrup deep into their crumb, turning this amazingly delicate cookie into a sweet burst of spicy honey, walnut, buttery goodness.

"Can't we just call them honey cookies? Not all of us can pronounce Greek, so why call them by their Greek name?" Amber piped up.

"Because this is their name and you learn more about another culture when you try to learn their words along with their food. The names have a history or meaning. For instance, the 'melo' part of the name means honey. The 'makarona' comes from the word 'makares', which was a word for the dead people. Originally, in ancient Greece, a version of this cookie was an edible offering made in memory of the dead."

"Sometimes, Jody, you remind me of Sam. With his long-ass stories and knowledge about a million different things. It's cool you learned all these things from that guy though," Amber commented.

"Mitchell was an interesting man. He said he learned how to make these when he was staying in a small village. The woman he was seeing, her grandmother taught him and he taught me. I think it was in the first few dates we had. He loved to cook and bake. Only man I've ever known who loved to do both."

"And why didn't you marry this guy?" was Claire's good question.

Laughing over the speaker, Jody sighed.

"Life had other ideas. I don't remember exactly why he left Sioux Falls, but he left and we lost contact. I met my husband a few months later and that was that."

"I've never baked before. This is my first time, ever," was Amber's confession, her voice low.

She hadn't been all that confident when making these, my god they were ambitious for a first-time baker, but between her and Claire, these cookies turned out well. This was to be a surprise gift to Dean and Sam for their Christmas Eve dinner. The guys knew they were getting Greek hamburgers and Spanakopita, but they had no idea about the Melomakarona.

As the Spanakopita baked, Amber was searching the kitchen for a skillet.

"Hey, is this what you're looking for?" Claire asked, holding up a huge cast-iron skillet she'd found underneath a large stock pot.

"Yeah. Where'd you find that? I've never seen that in here before."

"I just found it. It's right here. That big pot was sitting inside of it."

Looking over at the large stock pot, Amber realized so much of the bunker's shelves still remained unknown to her. This was a big place.

"Well, good to know. So, let's get that on the stove," was Amber's pragmatic next step. They still had to grill the hamburger buns.

"Did you find a large enough fry pan or skillet?" was Jody's inquiry, as she heard the clank of metal pans being pushed up against each other during the girl's search of the kitchen.

"Yeah. We found a large skillet Jody," Claire reassured her, as she loudly set the cast-iron fry pan on the old gas stove. "Looks like it's been seasoned, too."

"Seasoned?" Amber turned questioning eyes to Claire.

"Yes, seasoned. Dean probably did that," Jody responded.

"Seasoning is what you do for cast iron to seal the new cast-iron pan to prevent food sticking to it and to create this really good cooking surface. Dean would have done this so he could fry his bacon and eggs. Man's an artist when it comes to bacon and eggs. You may have noticed."

"OK," was as far as Amber cared to take this conversation. She was at her limit in regards to cooking and cooking-related lore.

"Anyhoo, Claire, honey, wait for the spanakopita to get halfway done before you fire up the burgers. But have you guys made the garlic butter to grill the hamburger buns with?"

"Oh, shit. I forgot," was Claire's response.

"No worries. It's easy. You two, peel and chop two cloves of garlic. Really mince it fine, super fine. You'll stir this into a bit of softened butter. That's all."

"Oh, is that it?" Claire was sure it was going to be much harder than this.

"Yep, that's it. So why don't you girls do that and I'll be right back."

Jody had to step away to help Alex with their own Christmas Eve dinner prep. In the background, both girls heard Jody giving instruction to Alex about something. Claire felt the familiarity of this. Alex was a good cook, a detailed cook in fact, and she enjoyed it enough to have developed her skills beyond the basics. Jody rarely had to give her guidance. Alex must be making something extraordinary for Jody to have to weigh in on the prep.

"Sam and Dean are on cooking duty for the rest of the week," Amber mumbled as she peeled off the garlic cloves and handed them to Claire for mincing. She liked cooking, but not this much cooking. They had practically locked themselves in this kitchen for the better part of the day. It was kinda fun, but she was over it. After tonight, that was it for a while, thank you very much.

"Oh, and while you're mincing up the garlic, go ahead and slice the tomatoes. If there's a little garlic flavor still on the knife, it won't hurt the tomatoes."

"Tomatoes?" Amber asked, confused. Why did they need tomatoes?

"For the hamburgers. What did you think they were for?" was Claire's snarky response.

"Throwing them at someone's head sounds really tempting right about now," Amber replied in the same tone, the memory of her doing exactly that to Dean not that long ago in that very kitchen springing up in her mind, making her smile.

Amber hadn't put the shopping list together. Claire and Jody had coordinated with Sam on the shopping list. Jody knew she could trust Sam to get the items as stated. Dean, well, Jody didn't put it past him to pick up a can of shortening if he couldn't find butter. He improvised with everything and it wasn't always a winning effort.

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Leaving the boys and their angel to tackle clean-up and dishes, Amber, mug of tea in hand, stepped into the library first, followed by Claire. The dinner had been a hit with Sam and Dean and even Cas having a small serving of everything. The honey-cookies had been the highlight of their festive dinner, with Sam and Dean devouring half a batch on top of everything else they had wolfed down. Amber exited the kitchen with a warm fuzzy feeling in her stomach. Not just because of the delicious food, but also from the realization she just had her very first Christmas.

The library was all lit up with Cas' fairy lights and looked magical. The girls' eyes scanned the scene, mesmerized by the enchantment. Taking in the beauty of this, they both stopped and stood still. Right there, in full view, was the bottle of bourbon.

In a moment of silent communication, Amber looked over at Claire and without a single word exchanged, Amber instantly downed her tea. Looking back at the library's entrance to make sure they were unobserved, Amber turned towards the side table where the bottle rested.

"Hurry," was all Claire said.

Unscrewing the bottle, Amber filled the mug to the brim, held up the bourbon bottle to see if this decanted amount was obvious, and decided it wasn't that noticeable. Hastily recapping it, she turned and headed down the stairs.

"I'll put this in my room for later," she whispered behind her, not turning her head. She wasn't going to risk spilling a single drop of this liquid gold. Still on alert, watching and listening for either hunter or the angel to interrupt their plans, Claire found everything sounded calm downstairs. A few minutes later, Amber returned, looking calm, and a little bit giddy, a smile on her face. They'd gotten away with this.

"It's a Christmas miracle," Claire snickered.

"The Christmas Miracle was invented by a scribe in 3rd century Byzantium, who was employed by Constantine."

"Shit Cas, you startled me!" Amber felt her heart skip a beat.

Continuing with his narration Cas ignored Amber's words.

"So many of the religions existing in that city-state had a miracle embedded into them to enthrall and captivate the masses. The early Sumerians and Egyptians had a pantheon of gods and goddesses who were very charismatic and who explained the diversity of life experiences. So the early Christians had to keep promoted their own miracles in order to compete, so the birth of the Christ was eulogized into the miracle of his birth and, more recently, into a seasonal film. Jesus was an evolved human being. He was conceived and born in the usual way. He would've been very confused by all of this fanfare over his birth."

Castiel stood on the top step to the entrance to the library, looking completely at ease as he finished his comparative religion lesson.

Both girls stood still, holding their breath. Torn between commenting on the fact that Cas knew Jesus and worrying if he had seen them. Were they in trouble?

They were all silent for two seconds, standing there, facing each other, the girls wondering where they stood. Cas was simply confused. The girls' responses were unnaturally quiet.

Cas looked confused.

Feeling Cas' energy reaching out to explore her own, in order to understand their silent anxiety, Amber panicked. Feeling his energy brushing up against her own, and fearing being unmasked, Amber decided now was the best time to see if she could shield her thoughts from the angel.

"Hey, Cas, you ate dinner. You rarely eat. Did you like it?" Amber directed the conversation, and her own immersed thoughts, towards the food.

Internally focusing her intentions on their meal, Amber was really concentrating on how much Cas, Dean and Sam had enjoyed dinner. Yeah, that's it. She was feeling herself going deep with this gastronomical experience. It was working. Keep thinking about dinner.

Cas was aware he was being 'fed" images, albeit true images. He'd been there. Nonetheless, he could tell these were being used as a smokescreen. He just didn't know why or what they were screening out.

Claire had no idea what was happening, but she decided she was going to back away from the stairs and act as 'normal' as she could...because Amber wasn't.

"Yes. I did enjoy the meal. It was good," was the angel's flat response, his head cocking to the side as if he was analyzing Amber's words. Amber realized she needed to calm herself down. Cas wouldn't link the bourbon bottle to either Claire or herself. He just didn't think that way. And this would be their escape. She was starting to let herself calm down.

Claire was already standing at the tree looking at the lights and the wrapped gifts underneath. There were four gifts….four!

"Where the hell did these gifts come from?"

Momentarily distracted by Claire's question, Castiel turned to face her.

"They're not from hell. Hell should not be mentioned today, Claire. It's the celebration of Jesu's birth, which is why the gifts are there. Traditionally, children receive gifts today. So Sam, Dean, and I got you and Amber Christmas presents."

Gaping at the angel, Claire couldn't believe what she was hearing. Dean had spent money buying her that gun only a couple days ago and he got her another gift on top of that? This was overwhelming. She knew it wasn't really his money, but still. And the angel got her something, too? Unable to process any of that she simply looked at Castiel.

"You really think that's what Christmas is about down here, Clarence?"

"Claire, c'mon! Be nice! They got us gifts. Just say 'thanks' and shut up," was Amber's intervention.

When Claire only shrugged, Amber added, "Just, go get us some honey cookies, will you? We forgot to bring them up and I'll definitely want some for later." She couldn't spell out why, but she hoped Claire would understand her meaning. Those spicy honey treats would be divine with their bourbon.

Seeing how Claire didn't react or whine about being asked to do something, Amber thought the blonde had figured it out. Amber watched Claire go down the library stairs, before turning back to Castiel, who was once again peering at her intently.

"Cas, the whole Professor X talk-in-my-head is cool and all, but I'd really appreciate some privacy," Amber told him seriously.

"I don't understand that reference," Cas, replied evidently confused.

"I'm talking about our telepathic communication," Amber explained. "It's cool and useful, but I'd appreciate it if the whole thing stopped right there. I know you don't go peeking through Sam and Dean's heads, so I'd really like you to stay out of mine as well. I don't feel comfortable when you try to "read" me, and I can feel when you do that."

"The right to one's mental privacy is a highly esteemed one among humans," the angel commented with a small nod. "I understand. But, Amber, if I ever feel you're in danger, I'll have to ignore this request."

"And what does that entail? Dean-level danger, which is every damn thing, or normal-people-level danger?"

Small smile forming the angel replied, "We're not normal people, Amber. But I can settle with a Sam-level danger. How does that sound?"

"Ok, I can live with this."

It was better than the alternative.

It struck Amber that this year, in just the last few months, her whole life had changed...in substantial ways. Sure, she was living with her brothers', but so much more. She'd had a birthday. And now they were having a Christmas. They had a friggin tree with lights, not to mention presents!

Turning to Cas, Amber was smiling this quiet smile, half happy, half in awe of the good things that had come from the bad things that had marked her life up to this point.

"So, what did you get me?" she asked, her voice filled with excitement.

"You can't find out until Christmas morning," was the angel's answer.

"We're finding out after midnight and not a minute later," Claire's dry tone was heard, as she stepped back into the library carrying the platter filled with the honey cookies.

Claire, oddly happy, set the plate down on the side table near the bourbon. Hmmm...this was convenient. Eyeing this close proximity, Claire gave Amber a sly smile. Amber knew this could mean anything where Claire was involved. This made her nervous.

"What did we miss?" Dean just entered the library, followed by Sam.

"You got us gifts?" Amber addressed them both, her eyes bright.

Sam smiled warmly, while Dean grinned ear-to-ear.

"We never had this, but Sam always wanted this as a kid. And you going all 'It's a Wonderful Life' in the store….just seemed like the thing to do. Why? Don't you like gifts?"

Dean was getting a bit sarcastic. Seemed like an obvious thing for them to do. So, Amber questioning him, he felt was...well, it felt like she was questioning his intelligence. She was not, but Dean had issues.

"Of course I like gifts, Dean! I just didn't know we were doing that. We didn't get you guys anything," Amber answered. She was feeling self conscious. Claire had no such problem.

"We didn't want you to get us anything, that's why we didn't mention it, Amber. You two cooking dinner and dessert was more than enough," Sam said, eyes going from his sister to Claire, who stood aside a bit awkwardly.

"Traditionally it was only the children of the household receiving gifts," Cas inserted.

"We're not children," Amber answered, not liking being referred to as a child.

"No, you're teens and that's far worse, but we're not getting into that tonight," Dean quipped, grabbing a glass and pouring some bourbon for himself. Getting comfortable in one of the chairs, he gulped down his first sip before grabbing a cookie and popping the whole thing into his mouth. His eyes fluttered closed as he chewed and he moaned in pleasure, his mouth doing that slow-motion thing as the cookie melted into his mouthful of bourbon.

"God this is so fucking good," he said, still chewing his bite. Opening his eyes he turned to Sam, "Grab a glass and try one Sammy. I'm telling you, these two are made for each other!"

"Oh, are they now?" Amber asked, raising an eyebrow. "Don't you think the cooks deserve some of this, too?

Looking between the brothers, Sam frowned, and Dean's expression broadened.

"Oh, no Dean."

Sam was shaking his head, frowning.

"Why not. It's Christmas. They can handle it."

"Dean! This isn't just a beer! This is hard liquor! I don't think this is a good idea."

"Of course it's not a good idea. It's a fantastic idea," was Claire's ballsy statement. "Jody always lets Alex and I have a glass of wine or two on special occasions."

Both brothers turned to look at her, unsure if Claire weighing in on this was a dealbreaker. Perhaps they shouldn't.

Walking over to grab two glasses, Amber picked up two of the short tumblers, and grabbing the decanter of liquor, she poured out two shots.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What do you think you're doing?"

Dean, while all in for a little celebration, felt he was the gatekeeper here. The proverbial inch was turning into a mile.

"Amber, turning around, handing a glass to Claire, simply replied, "You were going to win this argument, so I just settled it. Saves time, don't you think?"

Neither brother spoke, and Claire started laughing. Wow! That was bold for a girl who'd had her ass handed to her just a few days back. But, hey, Claire wasn't arguing. Reaching out to grab the glass being handed her, Claire held it in the manner of someone comfortable with a drink in her hand. This didn't escape the notice of the two men. Amber had the same confident air and this left a disturbing impression on Sam. Dean's impression of this was a bit muddled. It's hard to tell who needs a shower when you've all been in the field for a month.

"You drink that slowly, do you hear me? And don't let me see you take such initiative any time soon. Sammy and I might not always agree on things, but it's up to us who's gonna end up having his way. Not yours. I'm only letting this go 'cause it's damn Christmas," Dean said curtly.

"Christmas isn't damned, Dean," Castiel's displeased voice sounded next.

Still not entirely sure that this was actually happening, Amber and Claire exchanged an excited glance before sipping their glasses and grabbing a cookie each.

Amber stole a glance at Sam, who had remained silent with disapproval stamped on his face.

"C'mon, Sam," Amber said sweetly. "It's Christmas. I promise we won't ask again till at least… Easter or something." Amber sported a cheeky grin he couldn't resist.

Unable to suppress a small chuckle, Sam relented. He didn't want this night to end sourly for any of them. He still didn't like what had just happened, but he decided he'd have to let it slide for now. Walking towards the Bourbon decanter he poured a glass for himself.

"Christmas we do… Easter I wouldn't count on it."

"What's up with that, Dean? Never bitten the ears off a chocolate rabbit?" was Claire's snark. It was lighthearted...for Claire.

Dean didn't have a reply, and only drank his bourbon.

Settling down to look at the tree, Dean grabbed one of the wrapped gifts from under the tree and handed it to Claire. He filled his mouth with a drink, not saying anything more.

Receiving this, Claire looked at the package and figured it was a knife. It was sloppily buried under too much wrapping paper that was sticking out in weird angles, but she could tell by the weight and shape of it.

"So, do I just unwrap this?"

"No, this is for you to put under your pillow. Of course you unwrap it," was Dean's sarcasm. He'd thought it was obvious. And he was not good with touchy-feely stuff...and he felt touchy-feely about giving this gift to Claire. He hoped she'd like it.

"No waiting till midnight then?" Amber asked excitedly.

"Traditionally…" was the start of Cas' soliloquy...but he was cut off.

"Traditionally the angel is silent and mounted on the Christmas tree, Clarence, so let's just open the damn gifts!" Claire quipped, impatiently. She ignored Amber's sideways glance and noticed that Dean was trying to cover his laughter with a faked cough. Sam was unamused.

Turning her attention to the gift in her hands, Claire started tearing open the numerous layers of paper until she was left with a plain brown paper bag. Reaching inside, she slid it out. It was a knife secured in its sheath. Her eyes enlarged when she noticed the handle. Pulling it all the way out she gasped. It was the Buck 124 hunting knife that she'd drooled over that day at the gun-shop with Dean. So he had noticed… And bought this for her.

Turning to look at him, gratitude on her face, Claire felt chagrined that she'd thought she'd figured Dean out. This was wholly unexpected. Disbelief in eyes, Claire managed to voice a loud enough "Thank you, Dean."

"Merry Christmas, kid," Dean nodded with a small smile.

Sam watched the interaction and felt his heart warming up at how touched Claire seemed. She and Dean had finally found some common ground and it showed.

Reaching for his neatly wrapped gift, bow on top and all, he handed it to Amber with a smile.

"Your turn, Amber."

Grabbing hold of what she could already tell was a book, Amber carefully tore only the top section of the wrapping paper, right where it was taped. Sliding the book out of its festive wrapping, she looked at the cover and gasped.

"You didn't!" Her mouth fell open and her eyes crinkled at the corners with delight.

Hopping on her feet she strode to Sam and hugged him tightly for a few seconds, before letting go and turning her focus back to the book in her hands. It was the copy of "Les Miserables" that she had found at that weird bookstore. She leafed through its pages and marveled at the antiquarian font and the beautiful hand-drawn illustration at the end of every chapter.

"Thank you so much, Sam!"

"You're very welcome, Amb. I'm glad you like it. Merry Christmas," Sam smiled at her warmly.

Taking the lead, Castiel grabbed his own gift bags and handed each to the girls. The red one to Amber and the green one to Claire. Setting their respective opened gifts on the table, the girls took the bags from him and exchanged half-amused, half-nervous looks.

'What would the angel have given them? Would they be faking a 'thank you?"

Amber was the first to reach inside, pulling out something soft and fluffy, wrapped in Christmas paper. Tearing through the paper she stared at a pair of black socks with an alien head design repeating all over them. Glancing at Claire, she saw her holding a similar pair covered in skulls.

"Socks," Amber managed to say in what she hoped passed as an excited voice.

"Kinda cool socks," Claire added, appreciating the design of her gift.

"And there's something inside," Castiel added, awkwardly.

Exchanging a glance, the girls fumbled with the fabric and, sure enough, felt something in one of the socks. Claire retrieved the two, twenty dollar bills hidden inside. Eyebrows shooting up in shocked surprise, she turned to the angel.

"Way to go, Clarence!"

"Cas, you really didn't have to! The socks were more than enough," Amber told him as she got to her feet and offered the angel a quick, affectionate hug.

"The lady at the store said girls your age like socks if money is shoved inside of them. She wouldn't show me any more clothes or jewelry, insisting this was the perfect gift for teenage girls."

Stifling a laugh, Sam smiled to himself, while Dean, Amber and Claire guffawed out loud. They all could see Cas, with his awkward behavior and creepy appearance, in a mall full of teenagers.

"Well, thanks. This was really cool of you," Amber repeated.

"Yeah, Clarence, thanks," Claire added less enthusiastically. She had appreciated the gesture, but she wasn't about to be all nice and sweet to the angel. Claire felt undone by this. The image of her father hugging her mother and the two of them watching and laughing with delight as her five-year old self hopped around their huge Christmas tree, hugging the doll she had asked Santa to bring her. Unable to do more than nod and smile wanely, this still intruded into the theater of her mind.

This being her cue to put some space between herself and the angel, and a lot less of a distance between her and the bourbon waiting in Amber's room, she gathered her gifts in her arms and stood.

"Thanks for all of these," she said a bit awkwardly. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed." Glass of bourbon still in hand, Claire looked ready to exit this party.

Amber, springing to her feet, quickly followed her, "Wait up! Let's finish our drink together and then we head off to bed."

"Fine," Claire answered neutrally. "Grab some cookies, too," she added as she made her way down the stairs.

Sam watched as his sister made a beeline for Dean, hugging him around the neck and planting a kiss on his cheek. Dean felt the sweetness of this affection and kept his cheek in place as Amber plonked her kiss on him. This was a first.

"Thanks for everything, Dean. This was the best Christmas ever!"

Dean felt his heart swell at the affectionate contact and grinned as he returned the hug, kissing the top of the girl's head.

"Same here, kid. Thanks for the grub. And don't stay up too late, alright?"

"Will do," Amber said, glancing over her shoulder as she and Claire left, carrying the plate of melomakarona.

"Hey," Dean said, grabbing a handful of the honey cookies before they disappeared from the library. Popping one in his mouth and chewing, mouth open, Sam turned away in disgust as Dean grinned.

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Sitting on Amber's bed, the two girls couldn't believe they'd gotten away with this. They'd finished their sanctioned glasses of bourbon and were now enjoying the contraband. The honey cookies were slowly disappearing.

Amber, feeling the glorious lightheadedness of being tipsy on quality liquor, was laying back on her back, grinning up at the ceiling. Her mind traveled to Ty. Their drinking escapades, their endless talks and fits of laughter as they downed beer or cheap wine, their hungover mornings where they moaned together, promising it was the last time they'd be doing this to themselves… Amber was becoming nostalgic. She missed Ty.

Grabbing her phone she started composing a short text, wishing Ty Merry Christmas and letting him know she was fine. After multiple misspellings, hitting the wrong keys, giggling at the inappropriate autocorrect words, she managed to make the text readable. She hit the send button. This felt good to send and she let herself fall back onto her bed, bouncing as she hit the mattress.

"Who you texting? Kyle?" Claire asked, from her spot at the foot of the bed, where she was sitting indian style. Munching another honey-cookie, her second glass of bourbon almost finished, Claire was feeling no pain. This second glass of stolen bourbon was hitting her hard. It had been awhile since she'd had hard liquor and she was losing her tolerance.

"No. No guy drama tonight," Amber answered with a grin. "My best friend, Ty. Haven't seen him in ages."

"Oh, come on! You know you wanna text him! Drunk texting your crush is a religion. And it's Christmas, so you gotta go there," Claire kept pushing.

While mulling Claire's words over, Amber's mind jumped to Kyle and their short but hot encounter at the bookstore. Deciding Claire's idea wasn't that bad, she grabbed her phone again and started composing a short text.

"Probably not your kind of scene, but what the hell! Merry Christmas."

Within twenty five seconds of hitting the 'send' button, Amber received a reply from Kyle.

"LOL"

This was followed by three emoticons: A Devil's head, a red and yellow explosion, and a pair of hearts.

Amber looked at this in disbelief and then started cracking up. This was too funny.

Claire, wanting in on the joke, threw a "Hey" at Amber.

Not missing a beat, Amber simply showed Claire her texts and this said it all. Both girls were laughing. Laying there the two girls recovered from this laughing fit.

One more text came in from Kyle, saying, "Hope ur safe in the bunker."

Amber texted Kyle the first thing that came to mind.

Kyle received a last text from Amber. It was an emoji of a hand flipping him the bird. Kyle texted back one last time. This was an emoji of an eggplant.

Showing this text to Claire, the two girls busted up laughing.

Locking and setting her phone to the side while sitting up, Amber glanced around the room. When she spotted her guitar propped up on the wall next to her dresser she got up and giggled at the slight sense of disorientation. Grabbing the guitar she wobbled back to her bed and fell butt-first back onto the mattress. Arm out to balance her landing, she leaned back against the headboard, guitar in her clasp.

"If you even think about playing Christmas carols, I can't promise what I'll do to you with that guitar," Claire warned her. She was just getting in the happy zone, her mind finally numb to the memories of Christmas past. She wouldn't allow Amber's Christmas ideas to ruin this.

Raising an eyebrow at the threat, Amber didn't respond. Her fingers only started moving on her guitar, filling the room with a familiar upbeat melody.

Claire's brow wrinkled as she tried to recall what the melody reminded her of. Amber singing the first few lines of the chorus, Claire recognized it as Amber burst out singing, loud, kind of sloppy, yet pitch perfect.

"I'm not here for your entertainment
You don't really wanna mess with me tonight

Just stop and take a second

I was fine before you walked into my life

'Cause you know it's over, before it began

Keep your drink just give me the money

It's just you and your hand tonight"

Amber's voice was just amazing...even in this buzzed state. Claire was remembering how impressed she and Alex were at the birthday party.

"Pink? Seriously?" Claire declared, loud enough to be heard over the song.

"Pink rocks," Amber answered in a tone that didn't allow any room for argument.

"If you say so," Claire snorted. She'd never admit liking this mainstream pop singer, but she liked this song, so she discreetly enjoyed her friend's singing the rest of it.

Sam, walking outside Amber's room on his way to his own, paused at the familiar melody. A strong sense of deja' vu hit him, as his first memory of Amber performing this song on stage at the Woodpecker's sprang to his mind. Like returning to the scene of a childhood memory, this song was filling Sam's head with layers of memories and feelings...feelings for his sister. They'd come a long, long way.

Smiling to himself, Sam resumed his walk to his own room. For Sam, Christmas Eve always involved a book.

It would only be in the late morning hours that Amber and Claire would wake up on top of Amber's bed, glasses empty, breath stinking, hair tousled. It would be Christmas morning.

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Merry Christmas...in July.

Wasn't that a long, long chapter. Yeah, I know. You're welcome. Merry Christmas. Lol

Although we've been writing this story for over a year now, it only takes place over a few months. Trippy isn't it. We feel like it's been way longer...because it has for all of us. Lol.

What was your favorite part? Why?

Did any of it feel familiar? Weird? Not very realistic? Why?

Have you ever cooked a Christmas, Solstice, Samhain, Kwanzaa, or Hanukkah meal with someone over the phone? How did this compare?

Do you like bourbon? We like it a lot...you may have noticed. If you drink, what's your favorite holiday booze? Do you have any fun stories about this?

We love to get reviews. It feeds our artists' soul.

Please, will you feed us.

Happy 4th of July, 2020.

MarionLuth & LauWhisperer