For now, I'm going to keep writing each part in drabble form, albeit different lengths-double, triple, or quadruple. Just thought it might be kind of fun.
Vanessa
Having no baggage to claim, the brothers each hoisted their duffel bags on their respective shoulders and followed the lieutenant commander through the airport toward the exit. As they walked, they each silently sized up Steve McGarrett while just as certainly as the commander was assaying them.
"So you ended up calling Bobby Singer because you think this might be more than your every day murders," queried Sam.
"Yeah. And he assured me that I'm not crazy, but I'm not convinced. I still don't know that I really believe in any of this."
"If you don't believe it yet," warned Dean, "you will."
"So is he always that gruff?" Steve asked. He glanced at Dean then clarified, "Singer, I mean."
Sam smiled. "Yep. Actually gruff might be putting it nicely."
McGarrett laughed and the Winchesters looked at him curiously.
Unable to resist, Sam asked, "What's so funny?"
Steve shook his head. "I was just thinking—I may have gotten a glimpse of what my partner, Danny, might be like in 30 years or so."
"Bobby's a good guy though," said Dean, "He's saved our asses more times than either one of us can count."
Hearing and interpreting the underlying affection in Dean's voice, Steve offered, "So he's your ohana."
"Our what?" the brothers chorused.
"Family," translated Steve.
They both nodded then Dean spoke. "Yeah, he's about all we've got left."
Though the comment evoked McGarrett's curiosity, he decided to leave it alone. At least for now. Quite remarkably, he found himself liking these guys.
The trio reached Danny's silver Camaro. While Sam made appreciative noises about the sports car, Dean quietly slid into the backseat. He laid his head back and threw an arm over his eyes.
"Is he okay?" asked McGarrett.
"Headache. He'll be fine. Just don't make him fly anywhere for a few days."
TBC…