Sorry about the delay! I know I usually post at least every other day, but I'm trying to keep up with two chapter fics right now. Sorry! Hope you enjoy this!!

Chapter 7

Rae was not sure what exactly she expected this evening to be like, but this was not it. Amy studied the pool table, trying to decide what shot to take next while Dad chatted with the waitress delivering his beer. Rae was just about at her limit with that damn waitress. She kept coming back, talking to Dad, taking him away from the game.

Rae grumbled under her breath as Amy missed another easy shot. When Dad had been helping, this was a lot more fun. Rae lined up her next shot, one eye on Dad, and missed.

"Son of bitch!" She hissed, angry with herself. It was a simple shot, one she should have been able to do in her sleep.

"Problem?" Dad swiveled from the waitress, eyes trained on her.

Rae had half a mind to tell Dad exactly what her problem was, but she didn't. "I'm not having a good game," she said instead, glaring venomously at the waitress.

She noticed Dad's eyes flick between her and the waitress. He gave the woman a glowing smile, "Excuse me, I think I'm being called."

"Let's see what we can do about this," Dad said, running a hand over her head. "Whose turn?"

"Mine!" Amy piped up.

"Okay," he circled the table to help Amy, "let's see what we can do here." Rae wondered if Dad was making it a point of smiling at her, but as long as he paid more attention to their game than the waitress, she didn't really care.

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Sam sat at the restaurant, trying to concentrate on what Karen was talking about, but it was difficult. Karen was not the most interesting person, he realized. She was pushy, borderline obnoxious, and reminded him a little too much of Dean that way. Also, her interests were so far from his, it was not even amusing. Learning about bricks was more interesting than the romance novel of the week or the latest from Martha Stewart.

A woman walked by their table. She seemed familiar to Sam. He allowed his eyes to stray from his date, who was rambling on about her latest homemade window treatment, to the woman being seated. His eyes nearly popped out of his head when he realized who it was.

"Karen? Could you excuse me for a moment?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the woman at the far table.

"Sure, no problem," Karen said. "Just don't be too long."

"Right," Sam stood, his knees threatening to knock together as he forced his feet to cross the floor. He arrived at the table, looming over her. She was clearly waiting for someone to join her.

"Sarah?"

Bright eyes, glistening with intelligence and life, looked up at him. "Sam!" Her face lit up. "What are you doing here?"

"Uh," he glanced back at Karen, "well, I'm kinda on a date." He felt the heat rising in his cheeks. Sam had imagined seeing Sarah again, and it certainly was not under these circumstances. Actually, in his imagination, it was always more along the lines of running into her in a bookstore or at her work.

Sarah smiled broadly up at him. "Me, too. There he is." She pointed out a clean cut man approaching her table.

Damn it, Sam thought, watching the expression on the man's face shift from anticipation to confusion. "Well, I don't suppose you'd like to have coffee sometime? Catch up?" he asked hopefully.

She smiled that brilliant smile at him. "Your number still the same?"

Sam shook his head. She pulled a pen out of her purse as her date sat down. "I'd be happy to call you about that authentication, sir, if you'd give me your number."

"Thanks," Sam flashed a smile at her date. "I really need to get that painting insured." He scribbled out his current cell number on a napkin for her. "Monday?" he asked hopefully.

"Depends on my schedule," she told him with a wink.

"Of course. Thanks again." Sam walked back to his table.

Karen glared at him. "Who was that?" she demanded.

"Uh, she was an art dealer on the east coast," Sam replied, sitting down. "I was hoping she could recommend some better art reference books for the library."

"Reference books?" Karen repeated. She was not buying it, he knew.

"Yep. So, what so you think you're going to order?" he asked, lifting up his menu, attempting to hide the smile he knew was on his face.

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It was interesting, Sam reflected, that after he left Sarah his number Karen suddenly became very interested in what he did. It was nicer than listening to Martha Stewart tips for hours on end. Not that Sam really wanted to talk about himself all the time. When the main course was delivered, the conversation shifted to the girls and what fast friends they seemed to have become.

"You know, Amy mentioned that Rae was adopted. That true?" Karen asked over her chicken salad.

"Yes," Sam replied. "I think Dean fell in love with her the first time he laid eyes on her. Never really believed in love at first sight before then," he chuckled.

Karen laughed too. "I'm going to assume you mean that in a fatherly way," she chided, pointing her fork at him.

"Of course!" Sam sat up straight, pretending to be shocked.

Karen laughed louder. "How about you? Were you around then?"

"Uh, yeah, I was around then." Sam picked at his baked chicken. "Well, I have to admit, I was not too keen on the idea at first. I thought taking her in was a bad idea." He had no idea why he was admitting this to anyone, much less Amy's mother.

"So what happened?" She popped another forkful in her mouth, all attention on him.

"She won me over." Sam looked back, wondering why discussing this was so easy with Karen when he had never been able to talk about it with Dean. "I'm not sure I can really explain it. One day I thought it was the worst idea in the world, and the next day I couldn't imagine our lives without her. Even with all the nightmares, the no-talking thing, all of it."

Karen's eyes grew wide. "Nightmares? No talking? What do you mean?"

Sam swallowed his food. "Well, we've never really kept it a secret," he said, rationalizing what he was about to divulge. "Rae saw a wild animal kill and feed on her parents. She refused to talk for some time after that. We still have trouble getting her to talk to any other adults. Her teachers are complaining that Rae does not participate enough in class discussions, especially considering what a good student she is."

"She still has nightmares about it?" Karen asked, fork dangling from her fingers, brows drawn together in concern.

"I don't know," Sam admitted. "If she does, she doesn't tell me. When we first started taking care of her, she would wake up screaming in the middle of the night and nothing except Dean could calm her down."

Karen shook her head, poking at her salad. "That does explain why he showed up like that last night." She sighed. "I was pretty irritated until I saw the news this morning. Before that, I thought he was just an overprotective ass."

Sam laughed. "He is. Dean means well, though. He really does."

"She's leaving," Karen whispered, nodding toward the back.

Sam spun around to see, before understanding it was a test. Sarah was standing, but her date was not. It was clear she was simply heading to the ladies room. With a hard swallow, he turned back around. He tried his best apologetic smile on her.

"So you do like her," Karen said stiffly.

Sam cleared his throat. "We, uh, went out once. But it was a long time ago. I was just really surprised to see her, that's all. And I really do want her help with the art reference books in the library."

"Which you decided the instant you saw her walk by," Karen said, lowering her eyes to her salad.

"Well, yeah. I figured she'd be perfect to ask. Doesn't mean she'll do it, though." Sam said, suddenly desperate not to hurt Karen's feelings. "I think the last time I talked to her was before Rae."

Karen made a noncommittal noise. "Amy has really taken a liking to Rae. I'm glad to see she has such a good friend. The women in our family don't have many friends."

Guilt stabbed Sam as he forced that smile wider. "You know," he said, carefully cutting more of his chicken, "you're a lot easier to talk to when you aren't talking about Martha Stewart and romance novels." He stabbed a slice of chicken. "I don't think we've ever taken Rae bowling. The girls might enjoy that."

Karen gave him a funny look. "I might like that, too. Bowling with a friend."

"It's a date, then," Sam said. "Next weekend?"

"Saturday," Karen said with a small smile. "Unless I get a better offer."

Sam chuckled. "Deal."

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As Sam reached for the doorknob, he heard the distinctive sounds of Hell Hazers II. They were still up, which meant he would catch grief from Dean for ending a date so early. Not that it was a real date after all.

He unlocked the door and pushed it open as quietly as he could. As Sam stepped into the den, the sight that greeted his eyes was amusing. Dean sat in the middle of the couch, head tilted back, sound asleep. One arm held Rae close to him while the other arm was wrapped around Amy. Amy was out cold, too. Rae's eyes opened heavily as he approached.

"Hey, Sunshine," Sam whispered, "let's get you to bed, huh?" He tried to pick her up, but Dean's arm tightened protectively and his brother's eyes flew open.

"What?" Dean hissed.

"The girls need to go to bed," Sam whispered.

Dean blinked hard several times. He looked down at the girls snuggled up to him. "Right. You take Amy, I got Rae."

Sam nodded. It was just more of Dean's overprotectiveness shining through. He lifted Amy up, the girl weighed less than what he used working out. He carried her back to Rae's bedroom, Dean close behind with Rae. They settled the girls in Rae's bed and turned out the light. Dean left the door open a crack before motioning Sam back to the den.

Dean plopped down on the couch, using the remote to turn down the sound. He patted the couch next to him. Sam sank down, readying himself for the dating lecture.

"Why are you home so early?" Dean demanded, his voice quiet. "Didn't you think I could handle two thirteen year old girls alone?"

Sam chuckled. "Looked like you had them eating out of your hand."

"Damn right. What's going on?" Dean spread his hands. "You were completely free tonight, had a woman ready and willing. What's wrong with you?"

"Dean, it wasn't like that," Sam protested.

"No?" Dean glared at him.

"No," Sam repeated. "Well, okay, maybe it was like that, but it wasn't exactly like that."

"Go on," Dean waved a hand at him.

"Dean, I wasn't really interested in Karen. Not like that." Sam said, shaking his head.

"Sammy, it's not like you get a whole lot of opportunities," Dean pointed out. His brother never could resist doing that. "Especially considering how much time you spend around me." He flashed that cocky grin, clearly insinuating Sam could not possibly compete.

Sam grinned back. "I saw Sarah tonight."

Dean's eyes widened. "Sarah? Creepy killer ghost girl in the painting, Sarah?"

"Yeah." Sam could feel the smile on his face just thinking about her. "I gave her my number, but I don't know if she'll call."

"Why not?" Dean asked, leaning forward. That figured. He could have one hundred percent of Dean's attention when it involved women.

"Well, she was on a date at the same restaurant, so she might be involved," Sam started to explain when Dean held up both hands.

"Dude, you left your date to try to get Sarah's number?" Dean shook his head. "Have you learned nothing? Has being my brother taught you anything?"

"Take advantage of free clinics?" Sam had no idea where this was going.

Dean locked eyes with him. "Dude, leaving your date to talk to another woman is not cool. Not cool at all. I'm surprised she didn't throw a drink in your face or walk out on you." When Sam didn't answer, too shocked by Dean's reaction, his brother asked, "Did she?"

"Uh, no. Dean? What the hell are you talking about? I've seen you hit on enough women to fill a small country." Sam was puzzled.

Dean's head tilted to one side, regarding him critically. "When I'm with a woman, I only have eyes for that woman. Doesn't matter that it will be over in a few hours. No other woman in the world exists." He winked. "That's the secret."

"The secret?" Sam asked.

"Dude, I just gave you the big secret. You should act grateful or something. Want a beer?" Dean still stared at him, like he was supposed to have this huge epiphany and jump up and down with glee.

"Nah, I'm good." Sam stared back. "Are you really fussing at me for talking to Sarah while I was out with Karen?"

"It's just rude, dude." Dean said, shaking his head. "You didn't try to come up with a weak cover story too, did you?"

Sam looked away.

"Sammy," Dean groaned. "I'm getting the beer. And I thought the girls were going to keep me up all night."

Sam listened to Dean getting their beers. "I don't get it. I'm the nice guy. I'm the one who wants to be with just one woman. How am I the jerk here?"

Dean slapped a cold beer in his hand as he sat. "Dude. You left your date to talk to another woman. Rude. You interrupted Sarah's date. Rude. You gave another woman your number while on a date. Rude." Dean shook the beer at him. "And you came up with a weak cover story, making it obvious you were interested in the other woman. That makes you a jerk." Dean took a long swig of beer. "Did you screw up Rae's first friendship, too?"

"No, no, no. We're taking the girls bowling next weekend." Sam sipped his beer. "It'll be fine. I wouldn't do that."

Dean's eyes rolled. "So you decided to be friends, huh?" His brother's head shook from side to side. "Sammy, you are the only guy I know who could turn a sure thing into just friends." Sam resisted a smile at Dean's heavy sigh. "Where did I go wrong with you?"

Sam leaned over, bumping his big brother's shoulder. "Don't know, dude. Guess you're just going to have to keep trying."

"Whatever," Dean muttered, turning the sound up on the television. "This is the part with the camera phone. It's my favorite."

Sam turned their conversation over as he watched the stupid movie again. As much as he hated to admit it, Dean was right. He was a complete jerk tonight. On the one hand, he felt really guilty about, especially about making Karen feel like she was a second-choice. No one should feel like that. That wasn't just rude. It was beyond rude. It was something Dean never did. And, he realized, neither did Rae. From what he had been able to observe, she treated each of her friends as though they mattered, like each one had a view and opinion that was important. She listened to each of them intently. He was really going to have to try to make it up to Karen next weekend. Unless, of course, she got a better offer. And he certainly would not blame her.

He really hoped Sarah would call.