Hello all you wonderful Supernatural Fans! Happy Season 11 Premier Day!

Thank you all for the follows and favorites! You make my little hunter's heart happy. Please let me know if there is anything you're interested in reading about with Natalie and the Gang!

As always, massive thanks to Jenmm31 for her amazing suggestions and encouragement. Girl, I couldn't do this without you! Go check out her wonderful sis-fic stories. And when you have read them all, let me know if you want to join the Kate Fan Club. I am President. :)

So here we go! Please read and review, and most of all, ENJOY!

A/N- Natalie is 8 in this story

Disclaimer- I don't own Supernatural- I'm just playing in their sandbox. I do own Natalie.

The mid-afternoon sun beat down on Dean's neck as he trudged back to the motel room, carrying what he estimated to be about every piece of laundry that the three of them owned and weren't currently wearing. They hadn't been able to stay in any one place recently long enough to even sneak a load in here and there, and unless they wanted to go shopping, it was definitely laundry day. Mostly thanks to their need for clean clothes, they had finally decided to take it easy, lay low for a couple days, and just catch up on life.

Ever since Sam and Dean made the decision to home school Natalie, keeping her on the road with them, they had been struggling, trying to find a pattern that worked. Having a child with them was certainly a challenge, but it had already proven far better than the alternative, not just for her, but for all of them. They tried leaving her with Bobby for a while, just so she could start school. Even though she loved Bobby, she had absolutely hated being tied down in one location, and Dean hated being away from her all the time. They had tried a year of kindergarten in a public school, which was an unmitigated disaster. After many tears, and a rather impressive presentation from Natalie on why school was stupid (impressive owing to the fact that she was six at the time and using Power Point), Dean had decided to pull her out of public school, and keep her with them. They had purchased all the books and materials they needed to have Sam home school her, while Dean took over her hunter's training, and they hit the road with a first grader in tow. She was now at the age of eight, at the third grade level, and progressing nicely in all areas. She was much happier now as well, which made the boys much happier too.

Since Sam was more of the teacher and Dean the homework enforcer, it had been Dean at the library the majority of the time, doing most of the research on their hunting cases. He was quickly getting tired of being stuck in a dingy room under fluorescent lighting day in and day out. Besides, he missed hanging out with his kid. However, since they were laying low for a bit, Sam was taking his turn at the library, basically updating their dad's journal with any new information he could find. That left Dean on laundry duty, but that also meant time with Natalie. He was willing to make that trade any day.

He managed to wrangle open the beat up door to their motel room. It was difficult without dropping the canvas bag he was holding, but, like the rock star he was, he made it into the room. He was about to announce how awesome he was, having made the perfect laundry run, when he noticed the one purple sock that had fallen out of the top of the mesh bag he was holding. Cursing to himself, he darted down quickly to pick it up, trying to check to see if Natalie noticed, but she was absorbed in the very boisterous cartoon that was blaring out of the small TV. His eyes narrowed a bit- she better have her homework done, he thought to himself- but decided to pursue that later.

"Just made the perfect laundry run," he announced loudly. She turned her head to look at her dad. He hoisted the bag, complete with the sock that she hadn't noticed he dropped, and she smiled, clapping enthusiastically. He played along, nodding and flashing his grin like he had just won an Oscar, even taking a small bow. She giggled at his silliness, which caused him to ham it up even more, pretending like he was waving to an adoring crowd. She burst out laughing as he unceremoniously dumped the clean laundry onto his bed.

"C'mon, kiddo. Bet I can fold more socks than you," he challenged his daughter. She picked up the remote and clicked off the noisy cartoon, then raced over to him, and jumped right in the middle of the pile of clothing, giggling like crazy.

"Not if I cover up all the socks so you can't find them!" she said, laughing. Dean immediately put on his mock outraged look.

"Hey! That's cheating!" he yelled, enjoying the silly game. He picked up a couple of shirts and dropped them on her face. "Ha ha! Take that!" he said in a villainous voice. She immediately began thrashing about dramatically, playing out a very boisterous death scene. He chuckled to himself- her energy astounded him on a daily basis. She could run in circles for hours and never get tired. By the time she was 5, she barely needed naps anymore. She was frequently awake when they pulled into motels at all hours of the night, and only rarely was cranky from tiredness the next day. Dean mentally shrugged to himself- hey, she was happy, she was healthy, he wasn't going to question it.

He turned his attention back to the overblown death-by-tee-shirt scene that she was enacting. He openly laughed as she flipped herself over, pulling the tee shirt off her face, and making what she considered a terrifically horrible grimace.

"AHHHH! NO! It can't end like this! Not like this!" Natalie screamed out dramatically, holding Dean's tee shirt over her head and shaking it as if it were Kryptonite and she was Superman. "Death by..." she paused for a moment, completely dropping out of character in order to read the front of the shirt she was shaking. "Pink Floyd! Ugh! Anyone but Pink Floyd!" she said grimly, wrinkling her nose.

Dean put on his stern face. "Hey- watch it. Pink Floyd is awesome, and don't you forget it, missy." She ignored him, gagging and gasping as the power of the clean shirt "killed" her.

"I...can see...the dark side...of the MOON..." she whispered, her little voice full of pretend anguish.

"Seriously?" Dean asked, chortling, watching the performance.

She gave one more theatrical gasp, then flopped down, apparently dead, back into the clean socks. She then bounced right back up, raised her tiny hand to the sky, and choked out, "Rosebud!" She then flung herself down again.

At that, Dean burst out laughing. "Where the hell did you learn that one, squirt?" he asked, doubling over. She opened one eye, but didn't move.

"From...Uncle...Sam," she gasped out, apparently still playing her death scene out. Dean shook his head, still chuckling.

"Of course. Trust him to be the one to teach you to be a drama queen." He snickered once more, then picked up the shirt that had caused Natalie's untimely demise, and began folding it. "Alright, get up," he said, poking Natalie in the leg. "If we start now, there's a chance we'll be done folding by the end of the week."

She bounced back up, fully recovered from her recent dramatic death. She began digging through the pile, looking for socks to match. She absolutely loved pairing them and balling them up. It made her feel important- lining everything up perfectly, putting all the right pieces together, and coming out with a result that made everyone happy. She loved that feeling of self accomplishment. Of course, being only eight, she really didn't analyze it like that- all she knew was that she loved doing it. Also, balled up socks made great missiles to throw at her uncle. She wasn't really allowed to do that, per se, but she was perfectly fine providing the ammo for her dad.

"So," Dean began casually, not really wanting to ruin the spirit of fun, but needing to know, "did you finish your homework?" He didn't look at her directly, but from his periphery, he could see that she started to squirm a bit.

"Yes, sir," she said, not looking at him.

"Really?" he asked, his gaze swinging back to her. She caught his eye for a second accidentally, then looked back down quickly. He smirked. Tell tale sign. She bounded off the bed, pulling a part of the pile of clothing down with her. She turned, scooped it up, and threw it back onto the bed before racing over to the small table by the window. She dug through the pile of papers and books stacked up there, and withdrew the sheet she had been looking for. She ran back over and shoved it under his nose for inspection. He stepped back a bit at her quickness to avoid getting hit in the face with a sheet of paper- man, with this kid, he had to use all of his hunter's reflexes- and then took the paper, his eyes running over it. She had indeed finished her vocabulary, writing out each word ten times. He looked back at her.

"Nice job, kiddo," he said with a smile, and handed her back the paper. She beamed at his praise. "What about your math?" he questioned. Again, her eyes darted around the room, not making contact with his. Yeah, that was what he thought. He leaned down, staring intensely at her. That was all it took.

"It's...almost done," she finally admitted sheepishly.

"Natalie," he began sternly. She squirmed again, twisting her foot like she was about to make a get away. "You know you're not allowed to watch cartoons until your homework is done."

She innocently held up the vocabulary sheet. "But it IS done." He gave her his full on "dad" look, which caused her eyes to start searching the carpet again.

"You know very well I mean ALL your homework, squirt," he scolded.

"Yes, sir," she said miserably, annoyed at herself for getting in trouble after they'd been having so much fun. "Do I have to finish it right now?" she asked.

Dean cocked his head to the side, and looked at her. She was generally a well behaved kid- this was a bit unusual. He was going to assume that being cooped up with Sam for days on end had contributed to this little bit of mischief, and decided to cut her a break.

"You can finish it after we're done folding this load. But no TV till it's all done, got it?" he said, his eyebrows raised at her. The sparkle returned to her eyes immediately, and she gave him one of her heart stopping grins.

"Yes sir!" she said excitedly, and clambered back onto the bed, right in the middle of the pile of clothing. He snickered at her sudden mood swing, and picked up a pair of her little leggings to fold. For a couple moments, father and daughter folded in silence, him tossing random socks to her, and her catching every one perfectly. Eventually, Natalie broke the silence with a question that had been on her mind since the middle of her illicit cartoons this morning.

"Hey, Dad?"

"Yo."

"So, um, when I was...watching TV before..." she said, rushing through the last part, not really wanting to make her dad recall her recent disobedience. "I saw that there was a really cool movie on later tonight."

"Oh yeah? What movie was that?"

She kept folding nonchalantly. "Star Wars," she said, trying to keep the tremor of excitement out of her voice. She had to play this one carefully. Star Wars was their THING. It was the first movie that Dean had showed her, and she loved every second of it. If it was on TV, and they weren't watching it together, she considered that hours lost that they would never, ever get back. They had watched all of the Star Wars movies, The Empire Strikes Back being an extremely close runner up for her favorite, but they both knew that A New Hope was clearly the best. She wasn't sure if her dad was still a bit put out with her for turning on the TV this morning while he was in the laundry room, so she was trying to be smooth and cool, just like him.

Dean tried to smother the smile that was threatening to show on his face. He knew exactly what she was up to, but decided to let her play it out. "Really. Which one?" he asked casually.

"A New Hope."

"Phew. I thought you meant one of the NEW ones for a second."

"Ugh. Gross."

"My thoughts exactly." He let the comment hang in the air for a second, and went right back to folding the shirts and pants like nothing had happened. He wondered just how long it would take for her to crack. He had counted to 42 silently in his head when she piped up again.

"Can we watch it together? Pleeeeeease?" she asked, unable to hold her excitement in any longer. He looked up, into her pleading green eyes. Damn Sam for teaching her the puppy dog look, which she had perfected at the age of three. He smiled.

"You have some math to finish first. Then we've got to get through all this laundry," he said, gesturing to the enormous pile. She began bouncing up and down on the bed.

"Yeah, but afterwards?" she questioned impatiently. He put his hands on the bed, and she immediately stopped bouncing. He leaned in close to her face, and watched her eyes go wide.

"If you can behave the rest of the day," he said, knowing that that wouldn't be a problem at all, "then we'll see." She drew in her breath excitedly and clasped her tiny hands together. He held up one finger, and she froze again. "I said, we'll see." She nodded vigorously, and began folding socks with a vengeance, determined to plow through the pile.

He chuckled again at her adorableness. He would never admit it out loud, but she had him so tightly by the heart, that he would have rather died than deny her absolutely anything that made her happy. He knew he had to lay down the law occasionally for her own good, and for his too. But he also knew she would get her homework done in under ten minutes, and this laundry wouldn't last all day. He was secretly thrilled that she wanted to spend time with him. Nothing was going to get in the way of that, not if he could help it.

A couple of minutes later, Dean's phone buzzed with a text. He picked it up and saw that it was Sam. He opened the message.

*Hey- met a girl at the library. Taking her out to dinner. Won't be home until later

Dean chuckled again- this day just kept getting better and better. He replied.

*Go get her, tiger, he typed back. His phone immediately buzzed with a response.

*It's just dinner, don't be perverted

*Yeah right. Make sure you take protection, stud muffin

There was no reply this time. He grinned, and tossed his phone on to Sam's bed. The real reason he had only said "We'll see" to his daughter was an "out"- just in case Sam found them a job and they had to leave tonight. Dean couldn't stand the look of disappointment on Natalie's face when their fun time got cut short, so he preemptively gave himself a loophole when it came to things like this. However, with Sam otherwise occupied tonight, their schedule was free and clear.

"Hey Natalie," Dean asked, keeping his voice at that calm and cool level that she had been trying to emulate a couple minutes before. She popped her head up to look at him, her large green eyes inquisitive.

"What do you think? Skittles or M&M's?" She furrowed her brow, confused by his question. He shrugged.

"You know, for movie night tonight." Her eyes went wide again with delight, and instead of responding, she launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck with a delighted squeal.

Later that night, around 10:30, Sam pulled up to the motel. He saw a flickering blue light through the window of the room he was sharing with his brother and niece. He wasn't entirely surprised- sometimes they left the TV on at night, quietly. The noise seemed to help Natalie go to sleep, and could cover his and Dean's voices if they needed to talk about something they didn't want her to hear.

Natalie knew all about the monsters they hunted. Dean had been very adamant about being honest with her. Sam thought to himself that it was a result of what he had been through as a kid- their dad keeping the secret from him, Sam, but not from Dean. Dean had known all along what they were dealing with, and watching Sam discover it on his own had been heartbreaking for the both of them. They told Natalie the truth about what they did, but they tended to keep the super gory details from her until they determined that she could handle them. Sam shook his head- even though she was only eight, she was getting ready for that kind of thing a lot faster than either he or Dean had anticipated. The kid was too smart, and starting to grow up, too fast. He quietly pushed the door open, not wanting to wake her. He was, however, surprised by the scene that greeted him.

Dean was sitting on the couch, with Natalie, wide awake, in his lap. She was sitting cross legged, clad in a Disney princess top with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles pajama pants, and with Dean's right arm wrapped around her torso, him holding her close to his chest. They were both staring at the TV as if it were spouting some crucial-to-the-existence-of-the-human-race propo, but upon further inspection, he realized that it was, once again, Star Wars. Episode Four, to be exact. He couldn't believe they were watching this again. It had some hold on the two of them that he just didn't understand.

He entered the room, tossing his jacket on the chair by the small table so as not to disturb the pile of school books that were scattered across it. "Really guys? Star Wars again?" he commented.

In response, father and daughter waved him away with their left hands, perfectly in sync. "Shh," they said at the same time. Sam shook his head. He was getting used to the two of them doing things perfectly in tandem, but this was ridiculous. He walked behind the couch and rested his hands on the back.

"Isn't this like the one thousandth time you've watched this?" he asked. Natalie turned to him with eight year old scorn.

"Uncle Sam," she hissed, adding emphasis to his name. "Be quiet- it's the trash compactor scene- this is movie gold." She dug her tiny hand into the gigantic open bag of Skittles that was propped up against Dean's leg, and popped a handful into her mouth. Sam leaned down, next to Dean's ear.

"Dude- it's almost eleven, and you're letting her eat all this sugar?" he said disdainfully. Dean turned to Sam, glaring. He pointed forcefully and emphatically to the TV, then to Sam, and pressed a finger to his lips. Sam got the message and backed off. Dean's attention turned back to the TV, and he pulled Natalie in a bit closer as they watched Luke and Friends best the trash compactor yet again. When the characters started cheering, so did father and daughter, giving each other a high five. Sam threw up his hands in defeat and headed into the bathroom to shower.

By the time Sam came out, the final credits were rolling. He was throwing on a clean shirt, grateful that Dean had actually managed to get the laundry done today. Natalie leaned back against her dad,

"Best. Movie. EVER," she declared with a delighted sigh.

"Damn straight," Dean agreed. Sam had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes.

"It's after eleven, Bug. I think it's time you went to bed," he said, using his affection nickname for Natalie. She swung her head around to look at him. She wrinkled her nose at his suggestion.

"I don't wanna go to bed," she whined. Dean picked up the Skittles bag next to him, and twisted the top so it wouldn't spill everywhere. He then picked Natalie up and set her next to him on the couch.

"You never want to go to bed," he commented jokingly. She put on her puppy dog eyes and stuck out her bottom lip. "Hey, hey," he said. "Don't you try any of your Jedi mind tricks on me. Sam's right- you probably should be in bed."

"Or," she said, twisting her head coyly to one side, "We could have a light saber battle."

Dean stopped for a second, looking at her, then he looked at Sam. He held out both hands in front of him. "Hmm," he said. He raised his right hand. "Light saber battle," he said, then raised his left. "Bed time." He shifted his hands back and forth for a moment, like he was weighing the pros and cons of each. He suddenly dropped his right hand down, and shrugged in surrender. "Yeah, her idea is better." He suddenly grabbed the TV remote and held it like the handle of a light saber. He spun to face his daughter, making the "cool" noise of a light blade being activated. She shrieked in excitement, and tore into the bathroom. She came back two seconds later, tightly gripping the handle of her hairbrush, holding it up in classic guard position, an intense look of concentration on her little face. Here we go, thought Sam.

"Ah, the force is strong with this one," Dean said in his best Darth Vader voice. He then added a couple of heavy breaths for emphasis. She picked up the scene immediately.

"Vader! You betrayed and murdered my father!" she said, her voice full of dramatic indignation as she began circling him.

"No- I AM your father. Like, for realsies," Dean said, making an overblown dramatic face, knowing that the last part would make her laugh. And he was right- she, very un-Jedi-like, burst out laughing, but then contained it quickly.

"For REALSIES? Impossible!" she shrieked, and launched herself, laughing, at him. They began the most epic fake light saber battle possible, complete with their own crackling saber sound effects.

"Well, she's never going to go to sleep now," Sam said loudly, hoping to distract his brother. It didn't work. Dean was too busy trying to fight the light side to pay him any attention. Sam plopped down on his bed to watch the battle unfold. In spite of his annoyance, Sam had to smile. It was great watching Dean cut loose and connect with his inner child through Natalie. She certainly brought out a softer, more playful side in him than Sam had ever seen. He marveled at Dean's capacity for play- he had no doubt where Natalie got all her manic energy from. However, after about 10 minutes of the duel to end all duels, Sam was ready for that energy to burn out. Unfortunately for him, neither Dean nor Natalie were showing any signs of slowing down. He sighed, stood up, and walked over to Natalie. He reached over and pulled the hairbrush out of her hand.

"Hey!" she shouted. "You can't do that!"

"Yes, I can. I'm using the force to disarm you," he said dryly. "Dean, she really needs to be in bed."

Dean sighed. "Chewbacca's right, squirt." Sam made a face at Dean, but he didn't respond. Instead, he dropped the remote onto the table, and walked over to pick her up. "Come on, bed time for young padawans." He carried her over to the sofa, where she always slept, and set her down. "Go get the dog," he said, and she obediently went to retrieve it from her own duffle bag. She came back clutching the golden retriever puppy that she always slept with. Dean dug through the stack of her clean clothes and found her favorite blanket. He tossed one of the pillows from his bed onto the sofa, and helped her get settled, tucking in her. When she was finally down, he sat next to her on the sofa and looked her right in the eyes.

"Now," he said, making sure she was paying attention, "What is the most important thing to remember?"

"Han shot first."

"Good girl." He patted the side of her face and started to stand up.

"Hey, daddy?" she said, causing him to sit back down.

"Yeah?"

"I love you," she said, simply, smiling at him. His heart twisted in the most pleasant way. He put on his best cocky grin.

"I know," he said, continuing to quote their favorite series. "Hey. I love you too."

She mimicked his cocky grin. "I know." He kissed her on the forehead, and flicked off the room lights.

If you haven't guessed, I love writing little fluff pieces :) But stick with me- we've got some major action ones coming up! Thanks for reading!