Hey Hey Hey fabulous SPN Fam! Happy Mother's Day!

So this story was a surprise, lol. The phenomenal, talented, incredible Jenmm31 and I were chatting this morning and she asked me if anything had ever happened while Natalie was in kindergarten and had to do a Mother's Day project. And then this story fell out. It also fulfills one of the requests of MariaKata, so double score! All in all, this story exists (as does Natalie) because of the amazing Jenmm31. THANK YOU SAMMY!

I haven't forgotten about the other requests (Tamilyn313, I just put the finishing touches on your request last week, I'll publish it next weekend!). Thank you for your patience. I promise I'm going to keep writing Natalie until I just can't anymore. Keep it in the road till next time.

A/N- in this story, Natalie is 6. Please see profile page for disclaimers.

Left eye, right eye. Left eye, right eye. Left eye, right eye. Natalie kept switching eyes back and forth, closing one and then the other, carefully noting what it was doing to her field of vision. She was staring at the brightly colored poster explaining 'Stop Drop and Roll' that was hanging next to the door of her kindergarten classroom, using it as her test subject. She thought that this new ability might come in handy when she was grown up and hunting, like if it was super dark during a hunt or if something happened to an eye and she could only see out of one. She sighed, her little face propped up against her fist as she continued her ocular examination. She was so BORED.

Miss Benson was a very nice teacher, but man did she have a class full of dum-dums. Except herself, of course. Natalie felt bad for these other kids who just didn't seem to GET anything that the poor woman was trying to teach them. And at the tender age of six, Natalie knew that she was smarter than all of these other idjits, as Pops would say. You only had to tell her something once, whereas the rest of these paste-eaters were still lost no matter how many times you told them something. Miss Benson still appeared so cheerful and excited about explaining things for the fifteenth time that Natalie knew at once it was a cover up.

They had been going on about colors for nearly twenty minutes now. She zoned out about fifteen minutes ago, finally landing on testing her eyesight as a means to keep herself occupied. Eventually, either the class finally collectively understood that mixing together blue and yellow made green, or Miss Benson just gave up- Natalie didn't know which one it was, she wasn't paying attention- the teacher launched into something new that caught her focus.

"Alright class! Now we're going to do something really special!" Miss Benson gushed, clapping her hands together excitedly. Natalie's gaze swung to her teacher, one eye still closed, waiting to hear if this 'special' thing was going to be worth stopping her eye exam. "Two days from now is a very special day. Does anyone know what that day is?"

Natalie knew that it was going to be Sunday two days from now, but it probably wasn't going to be 'special' in the way her teacher was referring to for anyone else. Dad and Uncle Sam had gotten home yesterday, and they promised her that they were going to be there all weekend to hang out and play. It was going to be the best weekend ever, but since the other kids didn't know that, she didn't really have a clue as to what the teacher was referring to.

"Two days from now is going to be Mother's Day!" Miss Benson said in a cheery voice. That made Natalie sit up and pay attention. What the hell was Mother's Day? In answer to her silent question, Miss Benson continued.

"It's a very special day when we celebrate the mothers in our lives," she said. Natalie fidgeted uncomfortably. Mothers were a touchy subject for her. When she first started school and the other kids noticed that only men came to pick her up at the end of the day, they had asked her about it. She had shrugged indifferently, not really caring that other kids had a mom and she didn't. She had a cool as hell Daddy, an Uncle who was the awesomest, and a Pops that could kick anyone's ass even though he was in a wheelchair, so what did she need a mom for? She wasn't even entirely sure what a mom was, so it didn't matter to her.

However, as the year progressed, she became more and more aware of what a mom was. A lot of the moms had come to help or volunteer in class. They were usually pretty nice. Some of them were even fun, but it was often short lived, as they were only there for an hour or two. Nothing special. Now, when Dean had come with her to the Fall Fair, THAT had been fun. They play-acted the best story ever, and she had gotten two bags of Skittles out of the deal. That was when Dean and Miss Benson started spending grown-up time together. Natalie never told anybody else in the class about that, though. She didn't want people teasing her about Miss Benson trying to be her mom or anything. They teased her enough already about calling Dean 'Daddy', to the point where she started calling him 'Dad' instead. She didn't need anything else from those losers.

All that to say that when Miss Benson declared that Sunday was going to be Mother's Day, it made Natalie uncomfortable. For about three seconds. And then she didn't care. She resumed her eye exam as the teacher blathered on.

After about five minutes when everyone seemed to be rustling around, moving towards the craft corner and junk, Natalie was still staring at the poster with one eye squeezed shut tight, and trying to squint with the other one, determining how much of her vision she could really lose before she couldn't see anything. While she was making this rather awkward face, Miss Benson suddenly leaned down in front of her, catching what was left of her vision. Natalie immediately opened both eyes and sat up straight. Uh-oh. If Pops found out that she wasn't listening in class again…

"Natalie, would you like to come make paper flowers with the rest of the class?" Miss Benson asked gently. That was one of the things that Natalie genuinely liked about her teacher. She seemed to understand that Natalie got bored from lack of stimulation, and so when her mind began to wander, didn't usually get upset. It was only if Natalie wouldn't focus on purpose or kept daydreaming after being repeatedly told not to that the phone call home happened. Natalie knew better than to disrespect her teacher, but it was just so EASY to get bored in this dumb ol' school. So she tried hard now to show Miss Benson the respect that she knew Dean would want her to show.

"No, thank you," Natalie said politely, looking impassively into the teacher's face. Miss Benson knew Natalie (and Dean at this point) well enough to know that the little girl wasn't being rude or defiant- she was simply answering the question. So Miss Benson tried phrasing it differently.

"I think you could have a lot of fun. You like cutting out shapes with scissors, right?" she asked excitedly, nodding as though she was trying to get the little girl to play along. Natalie shrugged. Those stupid snub-nosed scissors were child's play, but she did like using them. She always internally raced to see if she was the first one in the class to cut all the shapes out, and she almost always won.

"I guess," she said carefully, in answer to the scissors question.

"Well, this is going to be cutting some more shapes, and then you get to use glue and glitter to help decorate and make pretty flowers!"

"We're using glue? Better watch Charles, then. You know he likes to eat it."

"Yes, well, you let me worry about Charles. Why don't you come make some flowers?"

"But they're for Mother's Day."

"That's okay. They can be for your dad or your uncle or your grandfather."

"But they're SUPPOSED to be for Mother's Day."

"They don't have to be. You can make them for anything you want them to be for."

"But I don't wanna make them."

"Well, that's what the rest of the class is doing now, so I need you to come do that as well. You don't have to take them with you."

"That's just a waste then. What, am I gonna use all that crap and then just leave them here?"

"Natalie, please don't use that word in this class."

"Oh. Sorry, I forgot."

"I know you did. It's okay- please don't do it again."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now why don't you come make some flowers? I even have some purple ones that I think you'll like!"

"Okay, we're not understanding each other, Miss Benson. I don't wanna make flowers because…"

"Because…?"

Natalie's little face pinched stoically together. "Because I don't wanna have Mother's Day."

"How about they just be regular flowers?"

"Nope. But I can help watch the other kids and make sure that no one eats glue. I can help them cut out their flowers if they want. But I'm not gonna do it."

"Natalie, do you remember what both your grandfather and your father have said to you about listening and doing what you're told in the classroom?"

Natalie's green eyes narrowed. "Don't push me on this, Miss Benson," she warned.

*SPN SPN SPN*

Dean's eyes were on the clock. It was nearly the end of the school day, and he could pick up Natalie from school. He was eager to go get her and hang out. This year had been the worst of his life so far, and that was saying something for a Winchester. He missed Natalie every damn day he wasn't with her, and he knew that she missed him too. These trips and time spent at home were sacred. He was as excited about spending the next two days with her as she was with him.

He was about ten minutes away from hopping in Baby to go pick her up, when his cell rang. Even though they swore they wouldn't be taking any cases this weekend, Dean always kept it on him. He and Bobby could usually farm out the cases that they weren't able to take to other hunters. He didn't like doing it, but he was placing his priority in this promised time with his daughter. That made everything almost okay- okay enough to deal with, anyways.

He was surprised, however, that it was Natalie's teacher. He grinned slyly to himself. They had been on a couple dates since hooking up last fall. Maybe the kid had mentioned that he was going to be home this weekend to Miss Benson. Sure, he was going to be spending every waking second with his daughter over the next two days…but the kid had to sleep sometime…He answered the phone in his best suave voice.

"Well, hello there."

"H-Hi Dean, it's Nicole."

"How's it going, beautiful?" Dean grinned to himself as he could practically hear the teacher blushing over the phone.

"It's great. Everything's great," she gushed, then seemed to clear her throat. "Wait, no, no it's not. I'm sorry, I'm just a little…. this is about Natalie."

The smile instantly fell off Dean's face. He immediately snatched up his keys and headed to the front door. "What's wrong? Is she okay?" he asked forcefully.

"She's fine, Dean," Miss Benson said soothingly, knowing Dean's propensity for overreacting when it came to his daughter. "We just had a little…issue in class today."

"Issue? What does that mean?" Dean asked, stopping on the porch instead of thundering straight to the car. He closed the front door, listening.

"Well, we were making paper flowers as a Mother's Day activity-" At this, Dean's blood began to boil. Miss Benson, of all people, knew damn well that Natalie didn't have a mother, so this idea of her having to participate in a Mother's Day activity was instantly infuriating to him. Not realizing that she had just set Dean Winchester on edge, Miss Benson continued. "Natalie didn't want to do it. I reassured her several times that it didn't have to be for Mother's Day. I…know that's…not the best subject for either of you, so I tried to let her know that she could give them to you or Sam or Mr. Singer. But she didn't want to do them at all."

Dean waited for a long moment. "So she didn't want to make the flowers. Why is that a big deal?" he asked gruffly, losing all the charm that had been in his voice a moment before.

"Because it's part of the curriculum. It was the craft for this week. Every week the children are supposed to practice cutting out various shapes with their child safety scissors-" Dean rolled his eyes at that, knowing exactly what Natalie thought of those dumb things. "-And so it's very important that she participate with the rest of the class in these activities. And she absolutely refused to do it. Now I've spoken to both you and Mr. Singer about her behavior on matters like this in the past, telling you that as her teacher, it's my job to alert you to this refusal to do the required work that is expected of her."

Dean sighed. "Yeah, I know," he said tiredly. "I know you're just doing your job. Thanks for letting me know. I'll talk to her about it."

"I'm sorry to have to do this, but if this kind of behavior continues, it's only going to get worse as she progresses through school."

"Yeah, tell me about it," Dean snorted, then modified his tone. "Sorry. I'll…uh…I'll figure out something, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you." Dean gave a non-committal grunt back and hung up without so much as a goodbye. Just then, he caught Sam's shadow walking past the window, before the door opened.

"Hey," Sam said casually. He gestured to the phone in his brother's hand. "Everything okay?" he asked, hoping that it hadn't been a case. Dean bobbed his eyebrows once ironically.

"The kid got in trouble at school again."

"Again?! What did she do this time?" Sam asked, exasperated.

"Wouldn't cut out these stupid craft flower things."

"So she's still not participating with the rest of her class. I thought you put a stop to that like three months ago."

"She's BEEN participating with the rest of her class," Dean said hotly, not even willing to let Sam criticize his kid. "These things were supposed to be for Mother's Day, so she didn't want to do them. Can't say I blame her."

Sam's face fell. Mother's Day was always a sensitive subject in their family. He hated that Natalie was now a part of that with her own history, but he couldn't change the past. He could only focus on the present and the future, so he chose to focus on the issue at hand. "I understand why too, but she knows that she should be doing what the rest of the class is doing, right?"

"Of course she knows that."

"Good. So you'll set her straight."

"Nope."

"Wait-what?"

"Sam, there's nothing to 'set straight'. It was a stupid project for Mother's Day. She doesn't have a mother- she didn't want to do it. End of discussion."

"Dean-"

"Don't push me on this, Sam."

"C'mon dude, you know that she's got to learn to follow along with the rest of the class and participate."

"Not in stupid shit, she doesn't."

"Dean! If you let this kind of behavior continue, it could hold her back. Make her stay in school even longer."

Dean just shook his head. "I'm gonna go get her," he said, turning away from his brother without another word. As he made his way to the car, he chewed his bottom lip. Sam had pulled out the big guns there, knowing that Dean hated the idea of Natalie stuck in school for a myriad of reasons. But at the same time, Dean knew that Sam didn't get it. Natalie wasn't a bad kid- she WAS participating in school. She hated every damn second of it, but she was still doing it. This, however, was something different.

And Dean knew exactly what he was gonna do about it.

*SPN SPN SPN*

About fifteen minutes later, Dean pulled up to the front of the school, getting in the pickup line. It wasn't a terribly long wait as usual- he had made a little detour on the way to the school to pick up something from the store that he was going to need in order to deal with his daughter on this issue. That caused him to be slightly later than he normally would have been, but he wasn't late by any means. He saw Natalie catch sight of the car, grinning as her face lit up with joy. God, he loved moments like that.

She waited like she was supposed to until Dean's car made it through the line to the designated pick-up spot. He could see she was bouncing excitedly on her heels, but restraining herself from running to the car like he knew she wanted to. See? She was a good kid. She knew what she was doing. Once he pulled into the spot, she took off like a rocket, yanking the backdoor open, hurtling her backpack in and following closely, so eager to get away from stupid school.

"Hey squirt," he said, grinning at her in the rearview mirror.

"Hi Dad!" she squealed back, quickly snapping her seat buckle closed so they could pull away. They did as they always did- once they were off of school property and away from the other judgmental eyes of the parents, Dean looked over his shoulder.

"C'mon up," he said, moving the plastic bag on the front seat closer to his leg so she wouldn't crush it. No one needed to tell her twice. Unbuckling quickly, Natalie dove over the front seat, scrambling into shotgun. She yanked the seat belt down in place. "Whoa, easy there, Tiger," Dean said lightly. "We treat Baby with respect, remember?"

Natalie nodded vigorously. "Yes sir!" she chirped. "I'm just really excited to go home!"

"Yeah, I got that. We're gonna party like rock stars this weekend."

"Damn straight!"

"So. How was school?"

The exuberant little girl suddenly fell silent. Dean watched out of the corner of her eye as she fidgeted for a second, her shoulders falling slightly. "Well," she said tentatively. "I…um…"

"Yes?"

"I…kinda was bad today. Not like BAD bad, but…Miss Benson is probably gonna call you."

Dean kept his facial features perfectly smooth. This kid was so damn funny without even meaning to be. Turning herself in while already presenting her defense. He decided to take pity on her since he knew she was trying to own up to her behavior already.

"Got that call already," he said nonchalantly.

"You did?" Natalie asked nervously, her hands twisting in her lap. Dean was almost glad to see that- it meant that she knew that she was supposed to be respectful to her teacher, and follow along and participate and all that crap. Once again though, he wanted to set her heart at ease due to the circumstance.

"Sure did. And Miss Benson told me that you didn't want to make the paper flowers with the rest of the class. Wanna tell me why?"

" 'Cause they were supposed to be for Mother's Day."

"So?"

"So I don't have a mom."

"And…what do you think about that?"

"Um…"

"It's okay, kiddo. You're not in trouble. You can tell me."

"Well…I don't need a mom. You and Uncle Sam are way better than my mom. So I don't get why I'm supposed to make her a flower. But I'll make YOU a flower if you want one, because you're way better."

Dean couldn't help the stupid grin spreading across his face. He had the best kid in the whole freaking universe. "I see," he said, still grinning wildly. "Well, you know that your teacher wants me to do something about your behavior in class today. You know what I'm gonna do?"

"W-what?"

Dean pulled the car over to the side of the road, and held up his palm to her. "High five," he said. The scared look fell off her face to be instantly replaced with that heart-melting grin he loved so much. With gusto, she high-fived his hand with a giggle. But he wasn't done. He handed her the plastic bag. "Here is a box of cookies all for you, and this weekend your bedtime is never."

"Really?!" she shrieked in delight.

"Really. Told you we were gonna party like rock stars."

"SCORE!" Natalie instantly tore open the package of cookies. She extracted two, holding one out to Dean, who took it with a smile. See? She was sharing. She was doing everything a kid her age was supposed to do. Screw all those people who wanted to make her do something that she didn't want to. He was raising this kid right.

Natalie crammed the cookie into her mouth, sighing in delight. "This is why you're the best daddy ever," she said through a mouthful of chocolate chip.

"Damn straight, kiddo."