McGarrett's brow curled in confusion. "Singer? But I thought—I thought he was a—what did he call it—a-a hunter like the two of you?"

Dean grinned. "He is. But…he's also the owner of Singer Salvage. Trust me, the man is pretty much a miracle worker when it comes to getting car parts. Especially for classic cars like my Impala. Isn't that right, Sam?"

Sam cleared his throat as, despite all the horrors that had transpired in the years since, he recalled the long ago demon-fueled car accident that had nearly taken Dean's life and had ultimately claimed their dad's when the man sacrificed himself to save his son. The Impala had been completely totaled yet against all odds, Dean, with Bobby's help, had managed to rebuild her from the ground up. "Yeah," Sam agreed quietly, "Bobby's amazing when it comes to cars."

Seeing his brother's pinched expression, Dean shifted his stance ever so slightly and bumped a shoulder into Sam's in a silent show of solidarity and comfort.

Eagle-eyed gaze not missing any of the subtle, silent interplay between the brothers, Steve looked between the two and spoke. "So you think he can get me the parts that I need for her?" He patted the top of the car.

"I don't think it, dude, I know it," promised the older Winchester, "I can give him a call later. Now pop the hood, let's see what we've got."

Leaving the two men to geek out a bit over the Marquis, Sam wandered back inside the lieutenant commander's house. Not surprisingly, he was drawn to the bookshelves along the far wall and made his way over to them. The young hunter was perusing the surprising array of eclectic books when the door opened and McGarrett strolled back inside. Spying Sam he said, "Man, your brother really knows his way around cars."

"Yeah. Yeah, he definitely does. Way more than I do." Sam smiled and gestured to the books. "I hope you don't mind. Quite a collection you've got here."

Steve shook his head. "Most of 'em are my father's. I haven't decided what to do with them yet."

"Did he die recently?" Sam asked hearing the echo of sorrow in Steve's voice.

"He was murdered right here in this house about nine months ago." The sorrow in Steve's voice morphed to bitter anger.

Used to all manners of violence, Sam's eyes still grew wide with surprise and his jaw dropped a little at the unexpected statement. "Damn. I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean—that's…horrible. Did they catch who did it?"

"Not yet. But I will."

They were interrupted by Dean coming through the back door from the garage. He was wiping his dirty hands on a shop cloth. "That car's a real beauty. You've done a good job on it so far." Feeling the slight awkwardness in the room, he frowned. "What?"

"Nothing," responded Sam. "Steve was just telling me about his dad."

Further disclosure was put on hold as Danny chose that moment to arrive, barreling through the front door after a forewarning, if nominal, knock with three pizza boxes filling his arms. "The voice of reason is here. Pizza in hand."

Steve gestured to the new arrival. "My partner—Detective Danny Williams," he said by way of introduction. He then pointed toward the two hunters in turn. "Danny, meet Sam and Dean Winchester."

Danny eyed the two brothers standing next to the former Navy SEAL, taking in their height in relation to his partner. He rolled his eyes. "What the hell? It's like working in a forest of redwoods around here," he muttered.

TBC…