"False. The Beatles are the most impactful musical group of all time but if you break it down decade I'll allow that Led Zeppelin was just as influential in the 70's as The Beatles were during their height in the 60's." Kat said pointedly over breakfast.
Sam watched them both from a few seats down. Like a bird on a wire, he noticed the things that Kat and Dean were subconscious to. Over the last month, he had noticed that they gravitated towards each other once one of them entered a room. Their relationship was laid out in front of him like legos a collector intended to super glue together.
They argued-mostly about music- and Sam saw that Dean allowed Kat to have an opinion about things he'd shut Sam down on when they were growing up. He was patient with her; kind. His brother's transformation was one that Sam knew was bound to happen sooner or later. There had been many times Sam saw in Dean what he could not see in himself. It was in those times that Sam felt privileged to know his brother.
After a few more minutes, Kat cleared her place and made her farewells for work at the library.
Once the brothers were alone Sam spoke, "Dude you should do something for her."
"What?" Dean scoffed.
"Like get her a gift or something. She's made you…respectable. I'd say she deserves it," explained Sam.
"Sam…what do you know about functioning relationships?" Dean quipped defensively, but not unkindly.
"I know that with you and other girls, I've only seen the end. This I've seen from the start and it's different. So… a little word of advice. Girls like presents." He said with finality.
As Sam stood and walked away Dean called out, "Dude, I know what girls like! I'm the older brother. You don't get to give me advice."
Sam didn't respond but left Dean sitting staring perplexedly at his cup of coffee.
The library as it turned out had been the perfect release for Kat. It had done as she intended and given her a routine. Sam and Dean had begun hunting down Lugh's spear but most of the hunts were dead ends and in that time, Kat had something easy to occupy her.
The consistent letdowns didn't matter, though because they each had one another to fall back on. The life of the supernatural had morphed with Kat's mundane. She felt like she had a home with them and her life had assumed a structure. An amorphous one, but it had stability.
She took off her coat and placed it on the rack behind the circulation desk, and went over to April and Ruth, whom she was pleased to now call friends.
"How was your weekend trip ladies?" she asked as she signed into her computer.
"Awesome. Relaxing if you can believe it. We missed you, though." April said cheerfully.
"Yeah, sorry I couldn't make it," Kat lied. In reality, she and Cas had spent the weekend playing Scrabble while Sam and Dean went to hunter's shops in two states looking for the spear.
"Well April has pictures of the booths and comic stuff we saw, and I have pictures of the guys who's numbers I got," said Ruth proudly.
"Well, I'd absolutely like to see both," laughed Kat, mimicking Ruth's tone.
It was a quiet day so they managed to go through most of the comic expo photos. April started with the folder of voice actors they'd met, and then jumped to artists with their work on display. Now they had moved to the props and replicas.
It was a photo of a large man with his hair tied up in a rubber-banded bun. And around him was an array of vintage looking guns and knives. It should have been very commonplace; April was going on about the items on the table in front of him but Kat's attention was drawn to the makeshift wall behind him.
There were five types of lances, ranging across different periods. But one stood out. It had ornate patterning on the hilt and Kat couldn't quite make it out but one of them looked familiar. She couldn't place it but she was sure she'd seen it in her readings.
Her blood pressure rose slightly in excitement. If it was the real spear it was well taken care of. The metal that would've been made of iron or the like that the period was gleaming in the photo. In fact, it was the shiniest one on the rack. It wasn't jagged but perfectly sleek and rounded to a razor sharp tip.
"Hey, um, April. Could you email me this picture? My friend has been looking for knives like these, he's kind of a fanatic." Kat asked.
"Sure!" April began typing.
"Where did you say this guy's shop was again?" pressed Kat.
"Tucson, Arizona," answered Ruth, who was picking at her nails looking a little bored.
Kat heard her phone ping, signaling an email and said, "I'm just gonna send this to him. Be right back," Kat excused.
She quickly punched in Sam's email, sent him the picture and then called Dean.
"Hey, what's up? You ok?" he asked quickly alarmed by her calling during work.
"Is that Katherine?" she heard in the background, "Tell her I said aposiopesis was cheating and I would like a rematch."
"Did you get that?" asked Dean amused
"Yes, but I—"Kat started.
"Where do you even come up with this stuff? What's aposio-pocalypse?" he interrupted.
"It's when you're interrupted in the middle of a sentence and are unable or unwilling to finish it…like right now," Kat said exasperatedly.
"Well that's ironic," he snorted, "What's up though?"
"Don't leave for Montana yet. I think I found the spear. I sent Sam a picture."
"Are you serious?" Dean said in disbelief.
Kat looked around quickly and saw no one but an old woman making her way up the ramp into the library.
"Yeah. So check it out and I'll fake sick to come home early. It's not like anyone cares."
"Yeah captain badass, play hooky." Dean insisted playfully.
Triggered by Dean's nickname for her, Kat remembered back to the latest lesson she'd had in knife fighting where she'd managed to take Sam by surprise and hold him at the throat. It meant a lot to Kat that he hadn't backed down on his offer he made the night they got back from Wyoming. In the month that had gone by she was proud of the progress she was making. Sam reassured her that she was improving. Honestly, it was more a personal triumph that she was diligent about it; not mastery of the skill.
Kat was barely passable for a fighter on her best day. Though she was armed with a steely determination she couldn't fool herself into thinking she had a killer instinct.
In the time it took for Kat to make a clean get away from work, Sam had done extensive research on the lance in question. So much of his hunch was a shot in the dark. He'd been able to get buyers records dating back to the early nineteenth century but the trail stopped in 1806. It had only been bought by people of Scots-Irish descent, but that could be a coincidence. He had to tell himself repeatedly that not much in their line of work actually was.
Dean, on the other hand, had been working on the Impala. He'd come in and out covered in oil for the occasional beer and Sam thought he'd heard some clanking metal and the sound of a soldering iron at work.
He shook his head in his brother's direction not even bothering to question what he was doing, and heard the heavy metal door at the top of the stairs unlock and swing open.
Kat shuffled inside and pushed all of her weight on it, to close it again.
"Where's your brother? I stopped and got lunch on my way home. Did you find anything?" she listed in rapid fire.
"He's in the garage, thank you, and yes and no." he said in response to her grouping of questions.
"I'll get him." She offered and made her way into the garage.
They huddled around Sam's computer as he opened the file Kat had sent him. He zoomed and altered the resolution on the photo until the spear was the only image on the screen.
"Kat, I'm telling you, that hieroglyph thing looks like your birthmark." Dean insisted.
"The one under my sternum tattoo?" she asked, trying to envision the original birthmark.
"Yeah, that's gotta mean something," Dean insisted.
"Yeah, it means Kat's gotta come with us when we get it. If it's just sitting in a comic shop, it can't be difficult. It's been a month since Jackson, Dean and it's just sitting there. If Rowena's looking for it, she hasn't found it either."
"We'll get in and out. Stealthily…like Mission Impossible," Kat said in a low, husky voice.
Dean stared at her emotionlessly but still enjoying her joke. "You're coming, okay? But you have to do everything we say, no questions asked," Dean ordered as he put on the face that said serious business.
"Contrary to popular belief, I am an excellent rule follower," Kat said putting her right hand over her heart and raising her left.
Dean smiled unabashedly at her innocent strength and its combination with her humor. What Sam had said that morning struck a chord. He'd spent the day in the garage to maintain some of his hyper-masculine sense of dignity but he did do something for Kat. And it felt like his chest would explode if he didn't get to share it with her.
"Let's leave tomorrow, I'm pretty beat," lied Sam easily. It was simple to read the look on Dean's face and he felt compelled to support his brother going out on a ledge.
"Yeah I have something to do tonight anyway," Dean added casually.
"What is with this super evasive vibe happening…? I've known you guys for long enough that I know something's up," Kat said lightheartedly. Dean took two steps to cross behind Sam's back to her. He cupped her chin and quickly kissed her forehead. Kat felt the skin that made contact with his lips tingle and she leaned into him, a ghost of a smile creasing her cheeks.
"You're coming with me," Dean said simply walking away from her.
She spun around fast to watch him walk away, throwing up her arms in curiosity. "Where are we going?" she called after him.
They had been in the car for over an hour and Kat hadn't stopped talking about the spear. She ran circles around herself conversationally partially because she was nervous about the case itself. She also felt very strange allowing herself to be at Dean's will.
He hadn't told her where they were going and as they got further and further from the bunker she felt more out of control. It wasn't a negative feeling. There was no anxiety that accompanied it, but she was slightly disappointed in herself that she hadn't thought to do something for Dean.
She fell silent for a moment. "I mean what does this crazy bitch want with me really? I am so bland. I'm—I'm like discussing the weather with your great aunt who lives in Minnesota, it's boring. I am never who anybody wants." Kat burst out with hopeless energy.
"Well, you're who I want. So deal." Dean said nonchalantly. He pursed his lips at her in disappointment. "Now, let's not talk about the witch who has you wrapped up in some crazy plan for world domination. It's against the rules."
"The rules of what?" whined Kat defiantly.
"Rules of my baby. No witch talk in the Impala," Dean commanded, steeling himself against the steering wheel.
"Oh well, this is awkward. I'm...only here to talk about the occult," Kat said wryly as she let a sideways smile sneak onto her face.
Dean looked at Kat as he saw their destination rise up out of the distance.
"You love old movies. So I thought, what better way to watch one than in a drive in. Tonight this theater just so happens to be playing, The Maltese Falcon," Dean revealed.
Kat's jaw dropped as she craned her neck out the window to get a glimpse at the lights of the screen that were appearing down the stretch of road.
"That not only is my favorite Humphrey Bogart movie but it perfectly fits our current situation," Kat squealed decisively.
"Is that so?" Dean peeked at her as he ran his hands over the wheel to pull into the lot.
"Yes! Two private investigators and a femme fatale investigate the disappearance of a priceless artifact." Kat said in a sharp, deep voice that mimicked those of the 1940's, with a flair of false dramatics. "I could eat the irony of it with a spoon straight from the carton," she finished.
"Well, I know how much you love irony. Come on, that's why I chose it," Dean concocted.
"Oh, please, you had no idea," chided Kat.
"OK, I had no idea," he corroborated, "But it's the thought that counts."
Kat practically jumped up and down as they bought a ticket and parked the car in the middle of the lot. There were only a few others there. When the Impala roared into its spot a few heads turned at its gleaming magnificence. The moonlight radiated off it like a phosphorescent beacon. It's sturdy, retro body fit perfectly into the nostalgic setting. It was like Kat and Dean were isolated in its cab as they traveled back through time.
She slid across the bench seating in the front of the car. Crossed her legs Indian style and fiddled with the radio as it tuned to the station that played the movie's audio. She sat straight up peering through the windshield like a child staring at the Christmas displays on Fifth Avenue. Dean laid his hand across the back of the seat. It reached just past Kat's shoulders. He slouched down and leaned into Kat's side. Less interested in the movie and more in her reaction he watched her intently. Each flicker of her face; in joy, satisfaction and excitement made minuscule changes in her expression but infinite changes in the way Dean knew her. The Kat he knew changed each day they had spent together. He would never stop being in awe of her magnitude. It was humbling, to a man who had overcome so much, to be overcome by her.
"I always wished that my life was like this."
"What do you mean?"
"Like a film noir. Something so full of intrigue, but also crisp and clean. Like, one look in his office and suddenly Spade and O'Shaunessy feel something for each other? It romanticizes something that's almost impossible. But some way, these two people manage to beat the odds." Kat theorized out loud without taking her eyes off the screen.
Dean watched for a moment as the lead actors fought dramatically in a series of single shots of them on screen. He absentmindedly thought it was strange for the director to shoot a love scene but not have the actors share the frame.
"I got you something else," started Dean.
"You are just outdoing yourself today," Kat said incredulously as she allowed her eyes to flicker from the screen.
"Yeah, I know, I'm practically a saint."
Dean reached in his pocket and closed his fingers around a delicate, long silver chain. Finally, at the end, a key popped out of the denim.
It was very plain. Its metal was as shiny as the chain but it lacked the indentations on normal keys. It was simply a silhouette.
"It's the key to the Impala. I mean, it doesn't work but it matches the actual one. This car…it was my home for a long time. I held onto it because it reminded me of my dad I guess, hell I'm the one who convinced him to buy it in the first place—" he stuttered.
"When Cas sent you back to 1973, you mean?" Kat asked inquisitively.
"Yeah, back when he was just another douche angel. But that's kind of the point. This car has been through it all and everyone in my life was in some way connected to it, and me, I guess. So..I thought, I thought that I'd give this to you, so you could have a part of it too."
Kat beamed wider than he'd ever seen. So wide, that her dimples became cavernous ridges along her cheeks.
"That's a wonderful thought." She said in response. She reached for the necklace hesitantly and carefully placed it around her neck. Rather than let it fall over her thin sweater she placed it underneath, directly against her skin.
"I made it from some silver I had in the bunker," Dean averted casually.
"Oh, so it's super practical as well. In a tight spot, I could rip open a werewolf's jugular," Kat said derisively.
"Hey, always gotta be prepared." Dean joked in response.
Kat returned her eyes to the screen. "So, fun fact, the director of this movie said that Sam Spade—Humphrey Bogart's character—was meant to have no original, like a the guy everyone wishes they were but never actually gets there," she began. "You're kind of like him," she paused and took a breath, "There's no one quite like you Dean Winchester."
"Come on, I can't top that. How do you come up with this stuff?" Dean cried in frustration.
"No, no, no, stop! I didn't mean to make it too maudlin!" said Kat uncrossing her legs and moving them underneath her. She sat on her knees and faced Dean. She tried to grab his face and kiss him apologetically but he made a show of evading her, so she kissed wherever she could find.
Through her giggles, she managed to say, "This was perfect."
A/N: So, are there any thoughts circulating out there? How do the readers feel about longer chapters? We're getting into the thick of things so do we feel like more description is needed? A big thank you to those out there that are reading, it means a tremendous amount to me, I'd love it if you guys could find it in yourself to leave a comment! I'd love to hear what you have to say. -Kelly