AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hey, all! It's been far too long since my hiatus before the holidays and I'm trying to get back into the swing of things. I've been wanting some DeanxAly fluff, and I figure we can all use some fluff right about now! Hope you enjoy!

Aly is 6 years old and Dean is 18 years old. Beta'd by Edge_of_Clairvoyance.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

Betty shifted in the hard plastic chair, trying to find a comfortable spot. Again, she cursed the Soap-N-Suds Laundromat across town, the one she always went to- they had padded chairs, even if they were vinyl, and the place was well-lit and well-heated, unlike this place, which was a shithole. There had been a sign on the door of Soap-N-Suds saying they were closed because of a water main break or some such nonsense, so she'd had to come here, to the E-Z Wash Laundromat, instead. Tuesday night was laundry night, and it had to get done.

She turned a page of the glossy magazine open in her lap-there was a photo essay proclaiming "Martha Stewart Shares her Tips and Tricks for an Easy and Inexpensive Holiday Spread!" Anything that Martha Stewart was hocking wasn't going to be easy-or cheap. Although the recipe for a Bourbon Cider cocktail looked good-Betty made a mental note to rip that page out of the magazine and stash it in her purse before she left.

The bell over the door chimed as a man wearing a brown leather jacket entered-no, scratch that, a young man– and a little girl. The young man was startlingly handsome, with clear bottle-green eyes and high cheekbones. If Betty was a few decades younger she'd think about flirting with the guy. The little girl was petite, with blond wavy hair and the exact same green eyes as the young man. They had to be related-Betty would guess siblings or cousins, since the guy looked too young to have a kid this age.

He looked around the laundromat like he was a cop casing a joint. He held the little girl's hand in his and kept her close to his side, and after he checked everything out, he gave a small, satisfied nod.

Betty surreptitiously watched them as they settled in two chairs a few feet away. The young man was carrying a large cloth laundry bag. The girl had a backpack on her shoulder and held a small zippered bag in her hand.

"Go ahead and put your bag down, kiddo." The young man-he couldn't have been more than a teen, actually-said. The little girl placed her backpack on one of the chairs. The teen pointed at the row of machines. "Which one should we use?"

The little girl pointed at one on the end. "That one!"

"Okay, let's get started." They walked over to the machine and the teen set the laundry bag down on the cement floor. He pulled on the drawstring and removed a box of generic laundry powder and clothing- mostly jeans and plaid flannel, from the looks of it. Betty was fascinated, watching him-his movements were fluid and energetic, like he was an athlete.

He opened the detergent box and scooped some of the powder out, adding it to the reservoir in the machine.

"I wanted to do it!" The little girl protested.

He looked down at her. "Oh, sorry, you can do the next load, okay?"

Her pout went away and she smiled at him. "Okay, Dean!"

The young man-Dean- squatted down in front of her. "Okay, we need six quarters for this one, can you count them out?"

She opened the small bag in her hands and counted out six coins. "Ready?" He asked, and she nodded.

He closed the lid of the washer and then easily picked her up, his hands around her waist like he'd done this a million times. She leaned forward and counted off the coins as she placed each one in the holder.

"Good job!" Dean praised, and set her down. He pressed a couple of buttons and then shoved the coin dispenser into the machine. The sound of rushing water started.

The girl looked toward the back wall, where there was a row of vending machines. She pointed. "Look, there's sodas and chips and stuff!" She looked up at her brother- he must have been a brother and not a cousin or some other relative, Betty decided; their interactions were just too familiar. "Can we get something?"

"You ate dinner just before we came!" Dean told her, with an admonishing look that would be right at home on a parent's face.

The corners of her mouth turned down. "But there's candy!" She held up the change purse. "And we got money!"

Dean laughed. "That's our laundry money, so, no."

Her shoulders slumped. "Aww-"

"You should get your homework done, Aly." Dean said. They walked back over to the chairs and sat down, the little girl dragging her feet.

She pouted again. "I don't wanna do it here!"

"Well, we're gonna be here for a while, so you should get it out of the way now." Dean pulled a battered paperback out of an inner jacket pocket and opened it.

Aly sighed and unzipped her backpack, pulling out a notebook and a folder. She removed a sheet of paper and then got out a pencil, bending her head as she began to write. She held one hand up and put one finger after the other down, glanced sideways at her brother. When he looked at her, she put her hand down and ducked her head.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked.

She squirmed. "James was teasin' me in class today 'cause I count on my fingers! He said that only babies use their fingers to count!"

Dean closed his book and turned to her. "Well, James sounds like a dou-like a jerk. You're only just learning how to add and subtract, right? So you gotta do what you gotta do."

She looked down. "But he doesn't count on his fingers!"

"What does your teacher say?"

"She said it's okay."

Dean nodded. "That's all that matters, then. Don't let what James says bother you, okay?"

"Okay, Dean." Aly smiled at him.

He tilted his head, raising his eyebrows. "And if this kid gives you any more trouble, you tell me, huh? I'm not gonna stand for some first-grade punk giving my little sister a bunch of grief." He gently pulled a strand of her hair.

She giggled, and they shared a smile.

The machine that Betty was using chimed, so she got up and transferred her clothes to the dryer. Afterwards she sat down and opened the magazine again, this time to a spread about some awards show with lots of photographs of scantily-clad young people she didn't recognize. She thought about the actresses she'd idolized when she was younger; Audrey Hepburn and Elizabeth Taylor had had style and panache and hadn't had to wear clothes that bared most of their bodies.

The little girl continued her homework, her brother helping her spell a list of words out loud. He praised her when she finished the list, and she beamed at him.

Dean seemed like a natural with her, and Betty fondly recalled doing homework with her siblings around the rickety old table in their parent's kitchen.

After Aly's books and papers had been stowed back in the backpack, she looked around and swung her legs. "I'm hungry." She announced, giving her brother a pitiful look.

Dean closed his book and glanced at his wristwatch. He sat forward and reached behind him to pull out his wallet. "Well, it just so happens that I've got a couple of dollars squirreled away for treats."

Her eyes got big. "You do?"

He nodded, opening the wallet and removing a couple of bills. "Of course, I gotta get chocolate for my girl!" He grinned at her.

She clapped her hands. "What can I get?"

He stood up and offered her his hand. "Let's see what's there."

She slid off the chair and took his hand. They spent a few minutes going back and forth between the vending machine that held the chips and snacks and the one that had the chocolate bars and candy. Finally they made their purchases and came back to their seats.

The little girl carried a chocolate bar and a bag of potato chips, and Dean had gotten a cup of coffee for himself and a can of fruit punch for her.

Dean opened the can for Aly, and when she was ready to eat the chocolate bar, she handed it to him, and he tore the wrapper open.

"Thanks, Dean! D'you want a bite?" Aly held out the chocolate bar.

"I think I will, this time." He leaned down and took a small bite of the candy. "Thanks, kiddo."

Betty was surprised at the care that he was taking with his younger sister. She remembered when her brother was a teen, he'd been a walking attitude and would not have helped her or her sister for anything. Dean looked like he'd be at home on the football field or joyriding in a car with other hooligans, but he was here at a run-down laundromat, helping his kid sister with her homework and taking care of her like he was her father. Betty wondered about the life circumstances that had brought them both here.

They shared the bag of chips, and after they'd finished their food, Aly collected the trash and walked it over to the trash can in the corner, Dean watching her like a hawk.

Their washing machine chimed, and they went to put their second load in. Dean let Aly pour the soap in after he'd measured it out, and patiently listened to her count out the coins for the washer and the dryer.

Once they were seated again, Dean pulled out his paperback. Aly put her hands under her thighs and swung her legs, looking around. "E- z- wash-lah-lah-un-druh-"

"Laundromat." Dean emphasized the first syllable.

"Why does it say the letters E and Z?" She frowned.

"It sounds like the word 'easy', some places do that as kinda a shorthand."

"But why?"

He shrugged. "I dunno, I guess so they spend less money making a sign?"

She looked up at him. "When's Daddy and Sam gonna be home?"

Betty's ears perked up at that. Daddy and Sam-who was that, another sibling? Or a stepmother? Why weren't they there, taking care of Aly and Dean?

Dean looked her in the eyes. "Hopefully in a day or so."

She swung her legs harder, turning her eyes to her lap. "I miss them."

"I know you do." Dean ruffled her hair. "They'll be back soon."

What kind of a job would require a father to leave his children to fend for themselves in such a way that they had to do laundry in a laundromat? Betty tried to look closer at them without appearing to really look. Both of them looked clean and healthy. Dean's boots were battered and his leather jacket was well-worn, and Aly's clothes looked a little big on her, but she was a tiny thing. They didn't appear to be wearing threadbare, ill-fitting clothing, and they both looked like a healthy weight, so they weren't neglected in that way.

Aly shivered. "I'm cold."

Dean set his book down. "C'mere." He took the little girl onto his lap and wrapped his jacket around her.

Betty got up to fold her washing on the large table in the center of the laundromat that was there for that purpose. While she sorted and folded, she glanced at Dean and Aly–they were thumb wrestling.

"I won again!" Aly crowed, rocking back and forth on Dean's lap. "I'm the thumb wrestling champ!" She held her fists up in the air.

"Oh yeah?" Dean asked. "Well, I happen to be a champ too- I'm the tickling champ!" He began to tickle her sides, and she shrieked with laughter and wriggled.

The dryer they were using chimed. Betty was finished folding, so she picked up her basket and went over to her chair.

"Deeean, quit it!" Aly gasped breathlessly. He picked her up and slung her over his shoulder, and she yelped happily, continuing to giggle. He carried her over to the table. "You can help me fold." He gave her bottom a gentle swat and then set her on the edge of the table. "Stay put."

He removed their clothes from the dryer and dumped them on the table next to his sister. He handed her some denim. "Remember how I showed you how to fold your jeans?"

"Yeah." She picked up the jeans and concentrated on folding them. "Like this?"

He glanced at her. "Yeah, that's it. Good job!"

She beamed at him again. He handed her another pair of pants.

"Can we get a chocolate shake on the way home?" She tilted her head and peered at him from under her eyelashes.

"You just had chocolate and fruit punch!"

"But I love milkshakes!" Her voice was almost a whine.

He sighed. "We'll see. Depends how late we get outta here." He tweaked her nose and smiled at her.

Somehow, Betty knew that they'd be stopping for that chocolate shake.

She finished packing her stuff - complete with the magazine page she stuffed in her purse - and made her way to the door. Before she opened it to let herself out, she stole another glance at Dean and Aly, their heads close together as they continued folding the clothes and chatting, the brightness of their smiles and obvious love for each other making Betty's chest feel strangely warm. She had to force herself to look away so she could get going at last.

On her way home, she thought that she wasn't as angry at Soap-N-Suds for being closed today. Not anymore.