Goooooooooooood morning!
Chapter 49- can we make it to 50 for Natalie's birthday tomorrow? Anyways. Fun fact about this one- I wrote this before I saw the full episode of "The Curious Case of Dean Winchester"- I'd seen the first ten minutes and the last part, but didn't catch the actual game. So any resemblance to that episode is legit coincidental, lol.
Thank you thank you thank you for the reads and reviews. I want to hug you all. Special thanks as always to my girl, Jenmm31. Without her, there would be no Natalie for you to read. She's the best, y'all.
Have a great day- hope I get to publish tomorrow!
A/N- in this story, Natalie is seven. Please see profile page for disclaimer.
Dean pulled the Impala up to the door of the motel, quickly shutting off the motor and climbing out. He was desperate to be out of his monkey suit, having been trapped in it for most of the day. The weather was unreasonably warm for May, even if this was the South. Dean felt like he was swimming through the humid air just trying to get back to the room. When he finally opened the door, the blast of cold air from the a/c was so refreshing, he actually sighed in relief. His seven year old daughter turned her head towards the sound. She was sitting at the table, poring over a vocabulary worksheet that Sam had given her, but she instantly abandoned it when she saw her father, twisting around in her chair to see him better.
"Hey, Dad!" Natalie said with a grin. He turned to her, still feeling like he had just climbed out of a lake, but returned her dazzling smile. Just one look at that face, and his day was instantly better. "Hot enough out there for ya?" she quipped with a cocky grin.
"I think even my tie is sweating," Dean grumbled, loosening the knot at his Adam's apple. Natalie giggled, and slid off her chair, making her way over to him.
"How goes the case?" she asked, holding out her arms for his jacket. He promptly shrugged out of it, and handed it to her. Instead of answering her question, however, he glanced at the worksheet on the table.
"How goes the homework?" he asked, one eyebrow raised, indicating that he wasn't answering her question first. She giggled, but avoided answering his questioning by skipping away to try to hang up his jacket. When she realized that she couldn't exactly reach the hanging bar, she shrugged and hung the jacket off the doorknob. She then raced to the fridge and got him a beer. Dean tossed his tie on the bed and was loosening the top button of his collar when she pranced back to him, proffering the cold can. He took it and popped it open immediately, taking a long draught of the frosty drink. "Boy that hits the spot. I have trained you well, young Padawan," he said with a grin.
Natalie giggled, and then bowed to him. "Thank you, Master," she replied in a deep, worshipful voice. Sam, who was sitting at the table with his laptop open, just rolled his eyes at the two of them. Dean caught the look and grinned at his little brother.
"See Sam? This is why you need to have kids. They bring you alcohol." Sam just shot Dean his patented bitch face. Natalie suddenly darted over to Sam.
"Do you want a beer too, Uncle Sam?" she asked, anxious that she had been rude not getting him one too. Sam sighed, a bit defeatedly, but he smiled at her.
"No, Bug, I'm good, but thanks. Next time, why don't you get your Dad a water?" he said, leaning forward, trying to implant the idea in her head. Dean just scoffed and Natalie looked confused. She turned to her father.
"Do you even drink water?" she asked.
"There's water in beer," Dean answered, taking another long pull. Natalie turned back to her uncle, the confusion still etched on her face.
"See? He doesn't like just water," she tried to explain. Sam just shook his head at his brother, who walked back towards the table. He put his hand on the paper she had been working on, turning it towards him so he could see it better.
"So- homework?" Dean asked again. Natalie skipped back to her chair and plopped herself down, knowing that that was what Dean wanted her to do.
"Almost done," she murmured, picking up her pencil again. Dean's eyes looked up to catch Sam's. He silently asked if she was really almost done. Sam craned his neck to get a look at the worksheet.
"Ten minutes," Sam said quietly. Dean just nodded his head, satisfied.
"Perfect. Gives me just enough time to go take a shower before I go back out into the Land of the Soggy," he quipped, a bitter edge to his voice. At that, Natalie's head popped back up.
"You have to go out again tonight?" she asked, her wide green eyes searching his. She had really hoped that he and Uncle Sam would stay in tonight, even if it was just doing research. She knew that the job came first, and she was just as gung-ho about hunting as her father was. She knew vampire lore better than she knew her multiplication tables. Dean had been working with her for a little over a year now on guns, and she had shown the same promise that he had when he was her age. She had also taken to studying on her own, finding the subject of the Supernatural fascinating. Now that she was getting older, Sam and Dean were able to leave her alone in the motel rooms more and more, and she was missing time with the two of them. She never complained or anything; she just jumped on time with her family whenever she got it.
She was silently thrilled when she saw Dean shake his head. "No," he said. "Just grabbing dinner. I don't think we really have anything here, do we?"
"Just some leftover Chinese," Sam said, his eyes never straying from his laptop. Natalie stuck out her tongue and made a gagging noise.
"Yeah, my thoughts exactly," Dean agreed with her. "Besides, it's too damn hot to even run the microwave. Let's just go someplace." At that, Natalie whipped around in her chair excitedly.
"PIZZA! Pizza, pizza, pizza, pizza!" she squealed excitedly.
"Slow your roll there, Little Caesars," Dean said, putting the cold beer can on the back of his neck. He could almost hear his over warm skin sizzle in relief at the contact. He sighed, contented. "Were you good for Uncle Sam today?"
Natalie rolled her eyes. "Of course I was. I'm a perfect angel." Dean snorted a laugh, then looked to Sam.
Sam just chuckled. "Yeah, she was good."
Natalie gave Dean a look much too older for her seven years. "I'm seven now, Dad. It's not like I'm three."
"Of course. My bad," he said, grinning when his oh-so-mature seven year old started bouncing around again in anticipation of her favorite food. "Well, since you behaved, I guess we can..." he trailed off enticingly. Natalie leaned over the back of the chair, practically wriggling with excitement.
"Yeah?" she prompted, her voice barely containing her energy.
"Go out to get..."
"Yeah?!"
"Fish tacos."
"UGH! Dad!"
"What?"
"Those things are so gross!"
"Hm...Greek food?"
Giggles.
"So no Greek. Let's see. Mexican."
"You're killing me, smalls!"
*SPN SPN SPN*
Twenty minutes later, when Dean smelled much better after a shower, they were seating themselves at a popular pizza buffet chain joints. After the waitress had been by and taken their order, Natalie was about to make a break for it, when Sam's restraining hand on her wrist made her stop. She looked at him, wondering what on earth could be making him keep her from the glorious buffet that awaited.
"Salad first," he said firmly. Natalie made a face, which surprised Sam. "What's the problem? You love salad," Sam said.
"Yeah- still don't know where she got that from," Dean interjected.
"Come on! Salad just takes up pizza room!" she said earnestly. Dean's grin was unchecked.
"Now THAT'S my girl."
Sam shook his head. She was so her father's daughter. "You need vegetables. It doesn't have to be a big salad. Go on." Natalie rolled her eyes good naturedly and made her way to the salad bar. Sam nodded approvingly, then turned back to see Dean shaking his head at him. "What?" he asked. "Someone has got to make sure that the kid eats something that's not covered in grease."
"Sam. How is it that you manage to suck the fun out of literally everything?"
"One of us has to be responsible for making sure Natalie eats her vegetables, and we both know it isn't going to be you."
"She had ketchup yesterday."
"How many times do I have to tell you? Ketchup is not a vegetable."
"It is made out of tomatoes, Samuel. Therefore- a vegetable."
"Dean."
Dean just grabbed a plate and headed straight for the pizza. Sam sighed. Well, maybe he could do better raising Natalie, because clearly he had failed with Dean. After loading up, they went back to their table. Once Natalie had eaten enough salad to please Sam, she immediately beelined it right for the pepperoni. Dean smiled widely when she came back with her plate piled with at least three different kinds of pizza.
"Branching out a little. Good for you, kiddo!" Dean said, patting her on the back. She just grinned and ripped off a bite of pepperoni and olives.
"There's like a thousand kinds up there!" Natalie said excitedly, forgetting that she was supposed to chew and swallow first. Sam looked at her with one eyebrow raised. By now, she knew exactly what that meant. She slunk down in her seat a little bit, chewed and swallowed quickly, then said quietly, "Sorry, Uncle Sam."
"For what?" Dean asked her, his own mouth full. She snickered a laugh. Sam just looked at his brother in disbelief. "Hey," Dean said to his daughter. "Bet you can't guess how many kinds of pizza they have up there without counting. If you win, you get to have dessert first tomorrow night."
Natalie's face lit up at the new and unexpected game with her dad. She tried to picture the buffet in her mind and counted what she could remember."Um...let me think," she said, stalling for time. She didn't want to get it wrong- not because she really cared all that much about dessert, but she wanted to make Dean proud. "There are...18?" she guessed, then looked up anxiously into Dean's face. He was counting the pizzas that were there. Her heart fell when he made an "oh" with his face, indicating that she was wrong.
"So close- there are 21," Dean said. He noticed the despondent look on her face, and nudged her gently. "It's okay. You'll get it next time." She grinned at him, and went right back to eating. The three Winchesters were silent for a while, getting down to the real heart of what made them tick- eating. When they had all finished off the pizza on their plates, Dean turned excitedly to Natalie again.
"Hey- bet you I can try more kinds than you!"
"You're on! And if I win, then I get to pick what we watch on TV tonight!" she said, racing away from the booth. Dean just laughed. She was so competitive, that any challenge was immediately to be conquered, and she was going to come out the champion. He chuckled and watched her. Sam looked up at him, confused.
"I thought you were going to try to get more kinds that her?" he asked.
"I am."
"You expecting the pizza to magically appear in front of you?"
"Dude, there ain't no way she can fit much more into that tiny body of hers. I'll clean up her leftovers."
That proved to be a big mistake. Once Natalie realized that Dean had only said "try", not "finish", all she had to do was take one bite of each slice, and she had technically "tried" it. He couldn't keep up with all that pizza, even if he was Dean 'The Garbage Disposal' Winchester. He finally admitted defeat, leading his daughter to sing a chorus of "I Am the Champion" and listing off possibly television shows that they would have to endure tonight. Despite the fact that he was about to explode from all the food, he still laughed at her antics. His eyes roamed around the restaurant, and landed on the self serve soda machine. His eyes lit up at their next opportunity.
"Hey," he said, interrupting her chorus. "Bet you that you won't get a Suicide drink and try it."
Natalie's face was alive with Dean's next challenge. "What's a Suicide drink?"
"It's when you get all the sodas combined into one."
"Bring it. And if I win-" She was about to slide out of the booth, when once again, Sam's hand stopped her.
"Yeah. Not in this lifetime," he said, keeping a grip on his niece. She immediately gave him her own bitch face, but plopped back down, disgruntled, into her seat. Dean just stared at Sam.
"Okay, seriously dude. Did you like take a joy-sucking class at Stanford or something? Or is this a natural gift? Just ruining everyone's fun?"
Sam ignored his brother and turned to Natalie. "I'm doing you a favor. Your dad dared me to do the same thing once, and it is absolutely disgusting. Especially if there's orange soda in the machine," Sam explained to the pouting seven year old. Natalie twisted around to look- sure enough, there was orange soda in there.
"Oh," she said, the crabby look dropping off her face. "Then thanks, I guess."
"You're welcome," Sam said patronizingly. He then made a face at his brother, who was still puzzling over Sam's ability to put a damper on absolutely everything.
"Have you had to work on this? Like practice sucking the joy out of any given situation? How does one do that, exactly? Practice it, I mean," Dean said, still mocking his little brother.
"Shut up," Sam growled. "Anyways, what is with this whole betting thing that you two suddenly have going on?"
"It's fun!" Natalie piped up, defending her father.
"It's dumb. You think for one minute your dad plays fair when it comes to stuff like this?"
"I am insulted by that, Samuel. It is not my fault that I am more awesome that you, and always win at everything. Because you suck."
"No, you playing childish betting games with a seven year old is cheating. It'd be like playing poker with her without explaining the rules. You're always going to cheat, which makes you a loser."
"You're the Loser," Dean shot back without even thinking. "And I do not cheat. I would never demean poker by cheating. It being the noble game that it is." He suddenly sat up straight. "Hold on a minute." He turned to his seven year old. "Natalie- have I taught you how to play poker yet?"
"Nope."
Nothing could stop the evil grin from spreading on Dean's face. "I bet I know what we're doing tonight."
*SPN SPN SPN*
After they paid at the pizza place, they made their way back to the motel. The sun had set, so they had at least some relief from the sticky heat. When they arrived at their current home, Dean made Natalie change into her pajamas right away. Even though this elicited a round of grumbles from the child, Dean knew that getting her into her pajamas now would mean that they could spend more time on the card game, which he intended on teaching his seven year old, right then and there. After she had begrudgingly done what she was told, with plenty of fussing, she made her way towards the table, clad in her Batman pajama bottoms and a Frozen tee shirt.
"This isn't fair," Natalie protested, climbing into her chair.
"Enough about the pajamas Natalie," Dean said, a warning in his voice. He was getting tired of fighting the bedtime battle, night after night after night. She was a pretty well behaved kid- except when it came to bed time. She would try to worm her way out of it, every night, anyway she could. Changing up tactics, pleading, tantrums- he had seen it all. It was a lot to endure for seven years running.
"I wasn't talking about the pajamas. Even though they're stupid..."
"Natalie Grace."
She gulped once, then explained herself. "This game isn't going to be fair."
"And how's that?" Sam asked, tossing a deck of cards onto the table. He hadn't been keen on the idea of Natalie learning the game, but once Dean reminded him of a certain life saving hand of poker that he himself had won, his mood had altered quickly. He didn't want to think about that moment anymore than he had to, so for once he chose not to fight his brother and just gave in.
"Because you two have been playing it forever," she said. "You're so way older than me, you've been doing it for years."
"Yeah, yeah, enough with the 'old' jokes," Dean said, recovering a bit of his humor while shuffling the cards.
"It would be way more fun if someone else was here that didn't know the game either," Natalie said, a touch of mischief in her voice. Dean caught on just one second too late. Just as he was taking a breath to say "Don't you dare," Natalie called out in a singsong voice.
"Castiel!"
All of the sudden, the angel appeared, right behind Dean, causing him to jump.
"Cas!" he roared, slamming the deck onto the table. "How many times, man? Huh? How many times?"
"How many times what, Dean?"
"How many times have I told you not to zap up right behind me?!"
"One hundred and twenty seven."
"And none of those times ever got through to you? Ever? Not one?"
"No." Cas turned to Natalie. "Hello, Natalie Grace."
"Hey Cas!" Natalie chirped. She liked hearing her full name much better coming from Cas's lips than her father's. "How are you?"
"I am well. And yourself?"
"Cool. About to learn how to play poker, and I wanted you to learn, too."
"Very well," the angel said, seating himself down at the table.
Dean stared at Cas, dumbfounded. "Dude, how is it when I try to call you, you sometimes just pretend that you can't even hear me. But the kid wants anything, and you jump to her service?"
Castiel just shrugged. "I can hear her clearly. Perhaps you should try enunciating. Or asking nicely."
"Yeah, not going to happen," Dean grumbled.
"See? This is why no one can understand you, Dean. You spend so much time growling at everything."
Dean waved his hands impatiently. "Alright, alright. Enough chit chat. Let's get our poker on." Natalie sat up quickly, her full attention on her father. Dean finished shuffling the deck, and dealing out the cards. "We're going to be playing Texas Hold 'Em."
"I thought we were playing poker," Cas said, confused.
"We are. Texas Hold 'Em is a kind of poker, Cas," Sam explained helpfully.
"Then why don't they just call it that instead of Poker?"
"Why don't you call all angels "angels"? Why the different categories? Archangel, Cherubim, Seraphim...?" Dean questioned, looking Cas right in the eye with his "you're being stupid again" look.
"Because they're different. Not all angels are alike."
"And not all poker is alike. Different names for different games."
"But if it's a different game, then it's not poker."
Natalie laid a tiny hand on Cas's arm, stopping the flow of words. "It's a human thing, Cas," she said simply. Cas looked at her peacefully.
"Oh. Well, that makes sense then."
"I don't know why I even bother talking around you two," Dean grumbled again.
"Once again, your talking would be improved by enunciating."
Natalie giggled, but squeezed Cas's arm, where she still had hold. "Not the best time, dude." The angel just nodded, showing the child he understood. Dean looked desperately to Sam, holding his hand up to Cas as if to say Can you believe this? Sam chuckled in response. With another disgruntled shake of his head, Dean got back down to dealing.
"Alright. Everybody has two cards. Then the dealer- me- puts three cards, face down, on the table."
"But if they're face down, no one can see them," Cas said, thinking that Dean was missing a crucial point here.
"That's the idea, asshat. You make the first round of betting based on the cards in your hand."
"What are we supposed to bet with?" Natalie asked, curious. Dean shrugged.
"We'll figure out something. So. You bet the first round with just your two cards. Then, I turn over the three face down cards- they're called the Flop."
"Why are they called the Flop?" Natalie piped up, leaning over the table so she could see the cards better.
"No idea. Then, you do another round of betting based off the five cards- the three on the table, and the two in your hand. You add one more card to the Flop- this card is called the Turn."
"Do you need to turn it around for some reason? Is that why it's called the Turn?"
"No, Cas. Then another round of betting with the six cards- you're trying to make the best five card hand you can. One more card on the table, and it's called the River. And before either of you ask-" Dean held up his hand, stopping both the angel and the child from interrupting, "-I don't know why it's called the River."
"It's because it's the last wild card in the game, and if it's the wrong card, it can send you down the river," Sam explained with a grin. Dean didn't even look at him. He just made a sucking sound with his mouth, indicating that once again Sam was sucking the fun out of everything with his nerdiness.
"You're just jealous because you didn't know," Sam said tauntingly. Dean scoffed at him. He went on to explain all about how to bet- the blinds, the antes, going all in. Castiel's looked became more and more confused, while Natalie's face lit up as Dean's hypnotic voice pulled her in. Finally, Dean gathered up all the cards from the practice hand he had dealt.
"Alright, you two. Got it?" he asked, looking from the angel to his daughter.
"Yes, sir," said Natalie.
"Not at all," said Cas.
"Then let's play," said Dean. He dealt out the cards quickly. Everyone picked up their two cards, and looked at them. Dean couldn't help but notice that Natalie had pulled her cards close to her chest, and was looking around the table suspiciously. He knew she was playing at being a mega-international poker star, imitating what she had seen people do on TV, and he couldn't help but grin. It was so damn cute when she did crap like that. Dean looked surreptitiously at his own hand. King and an 8. Not awful. He looked around the table, seeing if anyone had any "tells". Natalie was concentrating, Cas looked confused, and Sam's face was perfectly stoic. So no help there.
"Alright. First round of betting," Dean said. "Kiddo, you're up."
"What are we betting with?"
Dean thought a minute. "Do it like what we were doing at the restaurant. Start with small stuff, then we'll work up to bigger stuff."
"Okay!" Natalie said, instantly attracted by the idea. "I bet getting to pick the first tape we listen to in the car tomorrow."
"I told you to start with the little stuff."
She just giggled in response. Dean made a mock displeased face at her, which made her giggle harder.
"I'm altering that, because, as we all know, House Rules trump everything." He laid his cards down on the table, and looked his daughter right in the eye. "What are the house rules again?"
"Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cake hole."
"That's my girl. Alright. So what's on the table now is getting to pick ONE song in the car tomorrow. Next?"
Sam was up next. He knocked on the table once, indicating that he was calling. Castiel looked at Sam's hand.
"Why did you knock on the table, Sam?" he asked curiously.
"I'm calling, Cas."
"Isn't that supposed to be done on the telephone?"
"Poker term. It means that I accept Natalie's bet, I bet the same thing, but I'm not adding anything more to the pot."
"And the pot is where we keep all the bets."
"Exactly! Good job, Cas!" Natalie squealed excitedly.
"Yeah, yeah, the angel's getting the game, good job," Dean said. "Come on, Cas, what do you do?"
"Generally, I assist with the works of Heaven."
"In the game, moron."
"Oh. Of course." Cas made a big show of rapping his knuckles on the table, then looked to Natalie to see if he did that right. She smiled her heart stopping smile at him, which made him actually smile in return.
"I call, too," Dean said. He turned over the Flop. Jack, Ten, Seven. Dean quickly thought through his options. If the Turn or the River had a nine, he'd have a straight. He looked at the seven year old, and saw her calculating as well.
"What are the hands again, Dad?" she asked anxiously. Dean pushed a small slip of paper towards her with all the hands on it, in ranking order. "Thanks," she murmured quietly, staring intensely at the paper. Dean caught Sam's eye and grinned- she was having fun with this, which made them both happy. This time, when it came to Cas's turn to bet, he looked quizzically at Dean.
"I don't have anything in either hand worth betting. What should I do?"
Sam hung his head with a sigh. "Cas- that's what's known as a "tell", man."
"And that's a good thing," Dean said hurriedly, cutting Sam off. "It means you tell us what you have in your hand." He looked at his daughter quickly and winked, showing her that he was just messing with the angel, who promptly looked confused again. Even Sam found himself smothering a laugh at the situation.
"You never mentioned that before, Dean. It seems rather important," Cas complained.
"Yeah, my fault, man. Person to the dealer's right always has a "tell"," Dean said, his face a perfect mask of composure. Natalie suddenly became very interested in her lap, and Dean could see her shoulders shaking with laughter.
"I see. Have I fulfilled my obligations for my "tell"?" Cas asked, wanting to make sure he had gotten the game right.
"Absolutely, man," Dean said, clapping him on the back. Another round of betting, and Dean turned the River card. No nine, and no help for him. However, it was revealed that Natalie ended up with the high hand with a pair of sixes. Her eyes lit up in delight.
"So that means that I get to pick four songs tomorrow, right?" she asked Dean excitedly. He shook his head and avoided her gaze.
"Nope. Just the one."
"But if we all bet the same thing, then doesn't that mean there were four songs in the pot?" Natalie asked, working out the logic. Dean bit the inside of his cheek. Dammit. The kid was smarter than he'd given her credit for. Sam was grinning wildly.
"Well, she picked up on the nuances of this game fast," Sam said, his voice cracking from the glee. He stood up and went to retrieve a notebook from his backpack. "I gotta write all this down, so we can make sure everyone gets their payout at the end." Dean just rolled his eyes and made another sucking noise at his brother.
The game went on from there, with Sam and Dean winning the majority of the hands, but Natalie surprising them every now and then by picking up a hand. Bets flew right and left. After a couple hours, Dean had laundry duty for the next two weeks, Sam was paying for the next five tanks of gas, Natalie was cleaning out the Impala, and Castiel was so in debt that it was unlikely he'd ever pay any of it off.
Dean kept his eye on the clock. He was having a blast, and so was the kid, which was great- and awful. He was already dreading the moment of telling Natalie that it was bedtime. She was going to throw everything she had into avoiding it tonight, he could already feel it. He didn't want the night ruined by having to get strict with her, but neither was he going to let her get away with disobeying him. He loved his daughter too much to let her run all over him. She was a good kid- she just hated bedtime. He could never figure out why, but she was bound and determined to get as little sleep as humanly possible.
As if she could read his mind, Natalie suddenly turned and looked at him. He just smiled and winked at her, which made her smile that smile that always made his heart stop, just for a moment.
"Dad? You gonna deal?" she asked innocently, shaking Dean from his reverie. He smirked at her.
"Geez, you're bossy," he teased.
"Just waiting for you to lose the next hand," she said without missing a beat. Sam barked a laugh at that. Dean stuck his tongue out at her, prompting her to stick it back out. That resulted in a rapid fire contest between the two of them as to who could make the dumbest face at each other. Dean almost cracked several times, hearing his daughter exploding with laughter as he made goofy face after goofy face at her.
"Is this what is generally called a Poker Face?" Castiel asked curiously. Dean stopped laughing and just did a slow burn to Cas. He couldn't even find the words. He just shook his head at the angel. Natalie, however, was growing impatient at the halt in the game.
"Deal!" Natalie demanded. Dean immediately turned to look at her, one eyebrow raised. She gulped again, and lowered her voice. "Please deal?" she asked hesitantly.
"That's better," Dean said. He then stuck his tongue out quickly at her once more, letting her know she wasn't in trouble anymore. She giggled, but sat up in her chair excitedly. Dean quickly dealt out the hands. Natalie pulled her cards towards her and snuck a look. She had to struggle not to let her excitement show on her face. She had a Queen and a Ten, same suit. That was really good, but she had to play it cool. After the first round of betting, Dean revealed the Flop. The cards were Nine, Jack, and Ten. She almost had a straight! At the very least, she had a pair of tens, which was pretty decent. She looked around the table. Sam and Cas both looked like they were disappointed, but Dean's face was typically stoic. Natalie's eyes narrowed looking at her father, trying to figure out what he might have.
The second round of betting began. Sam tossed his cards down, disgruntled. "Fold," he said, leaning back in his chair. Cas looked at Sam, copying exactly what he was doing, including tossing his cards down and folding himself. Dean was perfectly calm, as he called. Natalie, however, laid down the gauntlet, Winchester style.
"I bet- that Dad won't eat pie for a week." That got everyone's attention, most especially Dean's. He looked at his daughter, impressed.
"You sayin'- you're all in, kiddo?" he said, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Natalie returned his stoic look so well, he forgot she was seven for a moment. She looked thirty five.
"Depends on what your call is," she said, her own playful grin teasing across her face. Dean leaned forward, intrigued.
"Alright. I bet that you can't go three days without playing Star Wars," he said. She bit her cheek- that was pretty big- but then grinned.
"You're on."
Dean placed the Turn on the table. It was a King. She had a straight! Her dad was going up the river! As long as the actual River wasn't anything stupid, she had this in the bag. However, she played it cool. She knocked on the table, calling like a pro. Sam couldn't help but chuckle at her serious demeanor. Dean's eyes slowly slid up to her face.
"I'm all in," he said, thinking she was bluffing. Natalie bit her tongue as hard as she could to keep herself from wriggling with excitement.
"What do you bet?" she asked carefully, making sure her tone was casual.
Dean leaned forward, making sure she heard every word he said. "If I win, you go to bed every night when I tell you to, no fussing or stalling. For two weeks." Natalie's mouth dropped in shock. He thought she was bluffing, and so he had brought out the big guns. Sam sat back, his mouth shaping an "oooooo"- he knew exactly what Dean's bet was worth. Natalie's eyes narrowed.
"Fine," she said. "If I win- you have to take me to the next Star Wars movie, and you dress like an Ewok." That made Sam almost choke with laughter, and caused all the blood to drain out of Dean's face. What if the kid WASN'T bluffing? He collected his wits, and willed himself to stay calm.
"You have yourself a deal," he said. Before he could chicken out, he revealed the River. It was a five.
Natalie jumped up, excited beyond all belief. She tossed her cards face up on the table. "Read 'em and weep!" she squealed excitedly. She pumped her tiny fist into the air, cheering.
"You look exactly like your father when you do that. Do you know that?" Castiel asked the child.
"Yeah. I get that a lot," she giggled. Dean was just staring at her cards. Finally he said.
"That's a good hand, kiddo," he admitted. Natalie stood up on her chair, and took an overdramatic bow.
"Thank you, thank you," she said pompously. She turned to Dean. "You're going to look great as an Ewok."
"Well, like I said, it's a great hand."
"I know."
"But..." And now the blood drained from Natalie's face. Dean revealed his cards. He had a Queen too. And an Ace. Which also gave him a straight. One that was higher than hers. "This hand is better," he said with a unchecked grin. Natalie made a huge theatrical groan, but she couldn't suppress her smile.
"Ahhhh! You got me!" she shrieked, clutching her chest like she was having a heart attack. Dean picked her up right off the chair, playfully shaking her back to life. She couldn't help but laugh out loud. He finally set her down on the floor right in front of him, put his hands on his hips, and leaned down right into her face.
"I totally got you. And guess what time it is now," he said, taking the biggest gamble of the night. Her face fell, but unlike every other night, it was resigned instead of gearing up for a fight.
"A bet's a bet," she sighed good naturedly. Dean just chuckled at her. She ran over to the table and into Sam's arms.
"Good night, Uncle Sam," she said sweetly. He kissed her on the top of her head.
"Good night, Bug," he said. "Just so you know, you did bust on a perfectly respectable hand." He tousled her hair. She smirked as she smoothed her hair down. He was trying to ignore the memory of a hand very similar to this, with much larger stakes. It was easier snuggling the cute lump of kid on his lap.
"Thanks," she giggled at him before making her way over to Cas. "Give me a hug, Cas. I have to go to bed now," she said, making another face.
"Your poker face is improving," he complimented her as he folded her into his arms. She giggled as Sam and Dean rolled their eyes in tandem. As soon as he released the child, he disappeared in true Castiel fashion. Natalie sighed again. She had hoped that Cas being here would buy her a couple minutes, but apparently, she was completely out of luck today. She drug her feet over towards the sofa where her bed was made up. Dean was waiting, sitting on the end of the couch, holding her blanket back. His shit-eating grin couldn't be contained. Natalie countered it by climbing up on the couch and onto his lap. She threw her arms around his neck, and looked his right in the eye.
"I really liked playing poker," she said charmingly.
"You're a natural, kid."
"Except for epically busting."
"You heard Uncle Sam. You busted on a great hand."
"Still have to go to bed."
"Yes, you do. Come on- let's go." She laid down immediately, taking this bet very seriously. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, savored the lack of fussing like it was the coldest beer in the world. He tucked in her blanket around her, leaned down and kissed her forehead. He really hadn't expected her to not fuss, and was so pleased and proud of her. He stayed leaned down, close to her face, just for another moment longer.
"Tell you what. When we go see the next Star Wars, I'll totally let you pick out all the candy you want," he said, bobbing his eye brows at her. She smiled the smile that made his heart stop again.
"It's a deal!" she said, smiling up at the person who was the reason she always wanted to smile.
