Pairing: Bobby/Eleven
Words: 628
Rating: K+

"Now… Bobby's a no bullshit kind of guy, so no time-wine space travel stuff, okay? You ramble forever and it's not cool." Dean told him, leading up onto the porch of Bobby's house by an arm around his shoulders.

"You mean timey-whimey? And I don't ramble forever. How do you know that he won't like any of my stories? He seems like a man who would love to hear stories." The Doctor straightened out his jacket, letting himself be led into the old house. Bobby was sitting at the table, going over lore for a case, reading an old, tattered book that the Doctor didn't recognize, but looked a bit like one he'd seen before.

"Because I do. Now, just act normal." The Winchester ended the argument, gently pushing the Time Lord forward, not meaning to make him stumble, even though he held back a smile at it, getting him back for a rough trip in the TARDIS.

The younger looking man righted himself and Bobby looked up at him slowly, seemingly wondering why such an out of place looking man was standing in his kitchen. The Doctor smiled warmly, and extended a hand, "Hello, Mr. Singer. I'm the Doctor. It's nice to meet you."

Bobby looked him over, then cautiously took his hand and shook it, "Hi."

The Doctor grinned widely and shook the man's hand with the enthusiasm Bobby lacked, then turned to Dean, "See, he doesn't hate me."

Dean glanced at his father figure and saw him pull a face, smoothing out his features when the Time Lord turned back to him. He invited himself and sat down across from Bobby, leaning over the table a little to look at the book in front of the hunter. Bobby tried to get back to reading, but looked slowly at the Doctor, only to see that they were almost nose to nose.

"Boy, what are you doing?" He asked, voice gruff, a bit reprimanding, making the other man smile.

"Just reading along. What are you reading? It seems gruesome." The Doctor said to him, and Bobby leaned away, taking the book along with him.

"I don't think it's your type of thing, kid. You seem too delicate for this kind of stuff," He sounded as if he were warning him, or putting him down gently from trying to help. He looked up at Dean, "Where did you find him?"

"Well, in my nine-hundred plus years, I've heard about a lot of things." The Time Lord cut in before Dean could answer, revealing a rather old looking bottle of whiskey from a jacket pocket that not even Dean had noticed before, setting it on the table, "From 1402. Hope you don't mind. Just picked it up on my way here, Dean says you like a good drink." He said, pausing so Bobby could take the information in, looking surprised. The Doctor smirked, lowering his voice as he leaned back over the table just a bit, "Tell me your stories."

Bobby looked at the Doctor with an unbelieving expression, then down to the bottle. If Dean was friends with this kid, and told him about Bobby, then he'd know not to con the con man of the group. This made Bobby think. He looked up to Dean, and the Winchester nodded in a silent 'It's not a joke'. The older man took a moment, then looked back to the Time Lord, studying him all over again with the new information. He set the book back on the table, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you want to know?"

The Doctor grinned victoriously, "Everything."