"Really?" Sam whines as the Impala pulls into the dimly lit parking lot of a small bar.
"We deserve to celebrate. We saved an entire family," Dean leaves no room for discussion. Sam sighs and lugs himself to his full height, closing the door a bit more forcefully than necessary. "Besides," Dean looks over his shoulder, "your sister and I have a bet to finish."
"Dean, there is no way you can beat me at darts." He scoffs and holds the door open for his younger siblings. Always the gentleman. Along the far wall is a stage equipped for karaoke. "Fine. If I win, you sing whatever song I chose."
"And if I win, you buy me shots."
"Deal."
I can tell Sam is enjoying himself. As comfortable as one can be on a bar stool, he watches our game, beer in hand. Dean has an undeniably good arm, but his specialty is shooting. He can handle any type of gun from just about any position or angle. I have yet to see his hands shake while aiming a gun. But I have a knack for knife throwing. I many not be able to employ it as often, but when I do, the blade never misses its mark. Dean has a preconceived notion that he has to be the best at everything. There is nothing wrong with that, but he does not realize that there are people in the world who can do things better. Like me, his younger sister.
"Darts are different from knives," he reminds me while taking aim. It settles near the edge of the board; the next hits closer, then the third in the middle.
"Do you want this round to be warm up?" I ask sweetly. He rolls his eyes and yanks them out.
"Forget it. I'll still beat you."
I turn to Sam. "Should I completely blow him out or let him lose with some dignity?"
"Let him taste reality." Dean stands with arms crossed. Without an eyebrow twitch, I sink all the darts into the red center. And this continues. After the first throw, Dean improves, but he cannot match me. And he grudgingly submits when the scores are finalized.
"Dean, you're next!" I skip back to him after requesting my song of choice. He glares at me with enough gusto to kill an elephant. He ascends the stage and grips the microphone. When the music begins and he sees the fist lyrics, his face morphs between embarrassment, anger, shyness. I wait expectantly and when he does begin, it is quietly.
"Louder!" Sam calls. Dean shoots us a death glare but does oblige.
"I know a place where the grass is really greener
Warm, wet and wild
There must be something in the water
Sipping gin and juice
Laying underneath the palm trees
The boys break their necks
Trying to creep a little sneak peak
You could travel the world
But nothing comes close to the golden shores
Once you party with us
You'll be falling in love
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
California girls, we're undeniable
Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top
Sun-kissed skin so hot, we'll melt your Popsicle
California girls, we're undeniable
Fine, fresh, fierce, we got it on lock
West Coast represent, now put your hands up
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!"
I share a look with Sam. Dean had broken out into full song, looking like he was enjoying this almost more than he should. He threw an arm into the air and strutted onto the floor. Now he is dancing between tables and customers playing pool. He spins a few women around, offers them a wink.
"Sex on the beach
We don't mind sand in our stilettos
We freak in my Jeep
Snoop Doggy Dogg on the stereo, oh-oh
You could travel the world
But nothing comes close to the golden shores
Once you party with us
You'll be falling in love
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Daisy Dukes, bikinis on top-"
Dean runs a hand up his torso and runs it through his short-cropped hair, then fans himself in faux heat.
"Sun-kissed skin so hot, we'll melt your Popsicle
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
California girls, we're undeniable
Fine, fresh, fierce, we got it on lock
West Coast represent, now put your hands up
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh!"
"I never knew you had it in you," Sam laughs when he returns.
He always had it," I remind Sam. Dean isn't fazed; he seems proud of himself. "You know what, I'll buy you a shot anyways, just because that was such a good performance." This is unexpected yet pleasant news to him.
"Okay. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a beautiful woman over there who wants an encore." He tosses his head back, swallows the whiskey, then turns on his heel and stalks across the bar. His two siblings' voices and laughter follow him. For the next several days, all three of them have Katy Perry stuck in their heads.