AN: NerdAngel's request... Ellen meets the boys. I must admit, it was tougher than I thought. Hope I do it justice. From "Everybody loves a Clown". Just add salt ;)

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Ellen POV

I was in the back room of my saloon, starting to get things ready for a new day. The sun was up bright but I knew for a fact that Ash was still passed out on the bar. A noise from outside made me halt and freeze and instinctively reach for my handgun.

"Hello? Anybody there?"

Someone was out there alright. The voice was muffled but strong. No respectable hunter or other visitor would pull up at a bar at 9am so whoever was there was either up to no good or in dire need of help. That voice was too strong to be in bad shape and it lacked the urgency of someone calling for help.

More muffled talking was audible but I couldn't make out the words. Jo appeared in the door frame, her rifle in her hands. She had heard the voices, too. I nodded at her and Jo disappeared to hide in the bar room. It wouldn't be the first time we dealt with scum that thought robbing an out in the boondocks bar would be a brilliant idea.

A rattling at the door and the minute tell tale squeak you could only hear if you were listening for it told me they were coming in, footsteps heavy on the wooden floorboards. For wannabe robbers they sure didn't try to be quiet. A few moments passed, nothing but the slow steps disturbing the silence.

"Hey buddy," I heard the first voice from outside again, followed by more footsteps. After a moment's silence it continued. "I'm guessing that's not Ellen."

I lifted my head a bit. So this was no random break in. They knew my name. But I didn't know them, didn't recognize the voice. Still, my finger was laying lightly on the trigger, gun pointed at the door to the bar room. Silently I moved to the side of the door and squeezed my back against the wall, waiting.

"Yeah," the second voice replied. I didn't recognize this one either. Two sets of footsteps moved around, one clearly approaching my back room. The door was opened, effectively hiding me from whoever came in. The tall frame of a young man entered, looking around.

"Oh god, please let that be a rifle," voice number two said, a hint of cockiness in it. Good girl, Jo. Keep him there. The man in my back room turned at those words and found himself staring right into the barrel of my gun. I put my index finger to my lips to keep the boy quiet. Yes, boy. He was tall, real tall. But still only a boy.

"No, I'm just real happy to see you. Don't move." Jo had this covered.

"Not moving, copy that," the voice repeated in a tone that made me want to warn Jo to be careful.

"You know, you should know something, Miss. When you put a rifle on someone, you don't want to put it right against their back. Because it makes it real easy to do..."

I heard a quick shuffle and I wasn't sure if Jo gasped. Then the rifle was being unloaded.

"... that."

Now the voice sounded rather pleased. And the tone was eerily familiar, like I should know him. The hint of a smile flickered across the face of my tall captive and I motioned for him to raise his hands behind his head. The smile on his face faded when we heard a punch and a muffled, pained moan followed by a shout.

"Sam! Need some help in here."

Now it was my turn to smile. The man in the bar with Jo muttered something I couldn't make out and I nodded towards the door, my dangerous face back in place. My tall intruder - Sam - took the hint and walked into the bar room. Sam... I didn't know a Sam, but I got yet another sense of déjà vu.

"Sorry, Dean, I can't right now. I'm a... little tied up," Sam said apologetically. I imagine his partner in crime had a confused expression on his face because Sam nodded at me as I stepped out into the open, my gun pointed at Sam.

So the other one was called Dean. Sam? Dean? This Dean looked familiar and yet at the same time I was sure I'd never met him. I glanced at Jo. Jo? John? John!

"Sam?" I asked. Sam's eyes widened.

"Dean?" Dean's eyes followed suit.

"Winchester?" They looked at each other, bewildered.

"Yeah."

Everything clicked into place. John Winchester's boys. No wonder. I slowly lowered my weapon.

"Son of a bitch."