(A/N- Squee, I love reviews! They're nearly as essential to my life as coffee! (Yes, HealerAriel is a caffeine junkie) You all deserve hugs, kisses, and cookies! And if y'all have any questions, concerns, things you would die to see written in here or in something else (I'd be willing to take one-shot commissions, methinks), etc… Just let me know!)

After a brief formal introduction and a quick meal (Sabine had declared that Sam, especially, was much too thin, earning Dean a smack upside the head for not making sure the "poor boy" had enough to eat), the Winchester brothers found themselves seated in an elegantly decorated parlor roughly the size of most apartments. Dean couldn't help wondering why someone with money to burn was still living out in the woods. Hell, if it were him, he'd sell the house and get a nice, big condo in the tropics; maybe let Sammy live in the basement if he promised not to bother him.

Hot chicks in bikinis…now that was aesthetically pleasing. Screw the trees.

"So, do we have a general idea of when to expect this werewolf invasion?" Dean asked, forcing the images of exotic, well-endowed women out of his mind. Sabine shook her head.

"Maddy's visions aren't that specific," she said, with a nod toward the five-year-old seer who had recently abandoned a game of Go Fish with Katie and Bryce in favor of climbing into Sam's lap. "We'll just have to be prepared."

"I'm sorry I don't know when it's gonna be," Maddy said, snuggling against Sam's chest. The little girl had latched herself onto him practically the second he walked in the door, and while he'd felt awkward at first, he'd gotten used to it pretty quickly. True, he wasn't looking forward to Dean's inevitable jokes about 'liking them young,' and psychics gravitating to each other, but… well, it couldn't be helped, and Maddy was a sweet kid who didn't deserve to have her feelings hurt by rejection.

"Visions usually come true a few days after the first dream," Sam said without thinking. "We should have a week at the most to wait it out."

It wasn't until he noticed the surprised looks he was receiving from Sabine and her elder daughters that Sam realized he'd just more or less confessed the very thing he preferred to keep secret. He was about to come up with some bullshit story about having studied the workings of prophetic dreams, but Maddy spoke up first.

"Sam's like me, Mama!" she said happily. She fixed him with her big blue eyes, smiling widely and just generally being too damn cute to get mad at – which wasn't to say that Sam didn't try to get mad at her, because he did. However, failing that, he let out a defeated sigh, and went back to stroking Maddy's head.

"No wonder she likes you so much," Katie said, turning her attention right back to her card game. "Maddy's never met another seer before."

"I thought things like that ran in families," Dean said.

"They do run in families," Bryce replied. "But when you come from a bloodline with lots of different abilities, not everybody ends up getting the same one."

"We can all communicate with spirits and sense energies," Katie chimed in, "but each of us has a different thing that we do best."

"I'm a dream-walker," Bryce stated proudly, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

Sabine smiled at the two men who, from the looks on their faces, were just now getting a taste of what David put up with every day of his life. She only hoped they managed to handle it with David's patience and grace.

"No. No freakin' way you've got a royal flush."

"I have so."

"Show me your cards," Dean demanded irritably, stifling a curse when Bryce proved her claim with an infuriating smirk.This was not happening. Dean Winchester was not playing poker with a ten-year-old, and he was definitely not getting his ass handed to him by said ten-year-old.

"You're cheating," he accused. "You've been doing some freaky little mind-reading thing."

"You've been stacking the deck for the past hour!" Bryce shot back indignantly, launching a poker chip at his nose. The fact that he always stacked the deck for a game of poker was now, in Dean's opinion, a moot point.

"Have not!"

A second poker chip, aimed at Bryce's forehead.

"Have too!"

A third chip took flight, nailing Dean in the chin.

"Have not!"

"Kids, play nice," Sam said, the large book in his hand serving both as a shield against stray projectiles and as camouflage for the amused grin on his face. Sam wasn't the only one who'd found a kindred spirit among Sabine's daughters, although he was pretty damn sure Dean would never admit to having anything in common with the fiery fifth-grader he was currently engaging in battle.

It was interesting to watch Dean with kids; it always further supported Sam's theory that his brother was still mentally just a horny fifteen-year-old. Sam recalled the way Dean had blatantly propositioned their waitress the day before.

A really horny fifteen-year-old, he corrected himself.

David Harvey wasn't sure exactly what he'd been expecting when Sabine had thrown out the words "monster hunter", but he was sure that neither Sam nor Dean Winchester was anywhere near the image that term had brought to mind.

They were just boys, for one thing, and rather too clean and pretty-looking for another. Admittedly, David had read Dracula a few too many times and was picturing someone a bit more of the Abraham Van Helsing persuasion; old and wizened, rather than young and handsome. Not that he resented them for it – after all, they were ten years too old to look twice at his daughters, and he had no doubts about his wife's loyalty – he just found it odd that two young men with such promise would choose to go around chasing spooks rather than getting an education and settling down with the right woman.

But then, perhaps David placed too much value upon living the quiet life.

"I must confess, gentlemen, that I find this… werewolf business somewhat ridiculous," he said that night once the three of them were alone in the kitchen, Sabine having ushered the girls upstairs to bed. Kate had been particularly reluctant to leave the room, and David found himself thanking God that the girl was just barely thirteen – if she'd been any older, he would have had much more cause for concern, seeing the way she looked at Dean. Still… warning the boy to lock his door might not be entirely out of the question.

David immediately reprimanded himself for even thinking such a thing.

"Then, with all due respect, Sir, why are you letting us stay here?" Sam asked.

"Because… my wife truly believes there's something out there," David replied with a sigh, refilling his glass of bourbon before passing the bottle to Dean. "And if she's so sure about something, there must be at least a kernel of truth to it. And if, God forbid, there were to be some lupine attack on our house, the nearest decent motel is about a half-hour away, and you boys would never be able to make it here in time."

David carefully omitted the fact that the poor kids looked as though they could use a few good meals and a nice place to sleep.

"Man, you've got a lot of faith in your wife," Dean commented, wearing an odd, half-hearted grin as the click of heels on the wood floor heralded Sabine's return.

"She's never given me reason not to."

"Honestly, he makes it sound like I'm some sort of saint." Sabine gave her husband a kiss on the cheek, and joined the men at the table. She smirked at the elder Winchester brother. "By the way, Dean, I'm not allowed to tell you that my firstborn thinks you're hot."

"Well, she's a little young for me right now," he replied, his grin no longer merely half-hearted. "But, hey, I'll probably still be single in ten years or so, unless something eats me."

(A/N- Review, pleeeease! It gives me a reason to live! …Or, at least, to keep writing. Smooches, my lovelies!

HealerAriel's favorite Dean quote of the moment: (yelling to the Wendigo) "Want some white meat, bitch?")