Isabel quietly sipped on her glass of Shiraz and she looked over the table at Jack. She smiled to herself. He had handled her cousins very well, and she also had to give credit to Sam and Dean, they had behaved pretty well. She'd never had older brothers or male friends so she was unused to that kind of protectiveness. Her father had been a little overprotective, but he had died when she was just sixteen, so he'd only had to deal with two years or so of his daughter entering the dating scene.

Jack looked great tonight, she thought to herself. Tall, dark, beautiful hazel eyes. At 31 years of age, he was a bit olderthan her , but he had such boyish features it was easy for her to forget at times. She thought back to her previous lovers and frowned to herself. She didn't really have a type, the selection was...diverse. She wondered what that meant. Was she incredibly open minded when it came to men or did she just figure it wouldn't ever last so what did it matter? Would Jack be any different? How long untilshe shut him off and he just walked away? His voice startled her from her thoughts.

"So, how long are your cousins staying with you?" Jack asked her.

"I don't know, we haven't really talked about it" She said shrugging and wondering if maybe she should discuss it with them when she got back "But I haven't seen or spoken to them in eight years, so I doubt they'll be in a hurry to leave. Any suggestions as to how I may be able to get rid off them?"

"Don't they have jobs, or school, or something?" He asked curiously.

She hesitated wondering why he was so interested in Sam and Dean, instead of talking about her, or himself "Well, Sam's just taking some time off from college. He was at Stanford. Dean's sort of taking him on a road trip. I don't really know all that much. I didn't really ask. I was too shocked to see them"

"Eight years is a long time to not speak to your own family" Jack said.

"Well, it's complicated" She explained taking another swig of her wine "Their mom, my mom's sister, died when they were little. I saw them alittle when we were kids, but not all that much.When my parents died eight years ago, John, that's Sam and Dean's dad, was the only family member I had left who I thought would take me in" She swallowed as she realised she'd never told anyone this, with the exception of her therapist. She hadn't even really spoken about what had happened to Sam or Dean "I thought wrong"

"He couldn't?"

She chuckled humourlessly and downed the rest of the wine "He didn't want to" She said softly with a wince, she hadn't anticipated that it would hurt so much to say it "He said no"

"Oh" Jack said, now knowing where the bitterness came from "And what happened?"

"Foster care" She said quickly "Until I turned eighteen"

"Just for two years?"

"It felt like an eternity" She said sadly "I never spoke to them again. I refused to, even though Sam and Dean tried at the beginning. Eventually, I guess they just gave up"

The sombre mood was then broken when the waitress brought over their meals. They thanked her and proceeded to eat.

"I can tell you don't want to talk about it anymore" Jack said gently "I promise I won't bring it up again"

"It's OK" She said with a small smile "We need to know this sort of stuff about each other. Besides, I have moved on. Although, I admit I still do harbour a little resentment towards them, but it's mostly directed at their father. What could Sam and Dean do? They were only kids when that happened too"

"And now?" Jack asked her.

She took a second to consider his question, innocent as it was, it stirred up a lot of pent up feelings. Not all of them good, either.

"Well, now we're all grown up. Things have changed" Even as she was saying it she seriously wondered if she truly believed it "You can't hold a grudge forever"

"Still, they didn't have to wait so long to contact you"

She looked up at him sharply and was about to say something when a little voice inside her head told her he was right. She nodded slowly as she considered his statement.

"I know. We still have issues to work out" She decided she'd had enough of this conversation. It was time to digress "How's your pasta?"