Title: Unrelated, 5/9
Art by: beelikej
Pairing: John/Mary, John/Dean
Rating: NC-17
Total Word Count: 4095
Warnings: Explicit slash
Disclaimer: If only John and Dean were mine... *sigh*

A/N: See all the great art, along with all my other stories on my LJ (john-n-dean dot livejournal dot com). Dean is not a Winchester in this story.

Chapter 5

When he met Charlotte Andrews, Andrew didn't know if it was a bad cosmic joke or a sign. She was a fellow volunteer with the Wounded Warrior Project. She was also drop dead gorgeous. Andrew knew he didn't stand a chance, but that didn't stop him from committing everything he learned about her to memory. How she took her coffee, that she liked blueberry bagels with strawberry jam, that she had an unnatural affection for hot cereal – oatmeal, cream of wheat, co-co wheat – and often ate it for lunch.

One day, she walked up to him out of the blue. Her long, shiny curly brown hair was pulled back in a messy bun. "Are you going to ask me out, or what."

He had been so mesmerized by her clear sky blue eyes that it took him a while to process what she'd said. "Uh… what?"

"I was just wondering. My mother keeps trying to set me up with her best friend's son, but I've been waiting for you to make a move."

"R-really?"

"Yes. So are you or aren't you?"

"Yes." The word had slipped out. He felt like a deer frozen in a set of headlights, and was pretty sure he looked like one.

"Good," she said with a smile that dimpled her cheeks and showed of perfect, white teeth. "You know where to find me when you're ready."

Andrew stared after her as she walked away. Had that really just happened?

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

So, you're off active duty. You know what're you gonna do for work now?" John asked Tom casually. Once he'd finished interrogating the boy about his history and his 'intention toward his daughter,' the two had become something akin to friends. It was amazing how much fear and trembling that asking a boy who was dating your daughter what their intentions were invoked even in the most honorable of suitors. It made anyone who wasn't honorable down right petrified if it was delivered in the right way. The kids that were in town were all out at the mall. John, Sam, Andrew and Tom were the only men, and they'd managed to break off on their own and head for the food court. John had sent Sam and Andrew to get them a pizza and salad so he could have a moment alone with his potential son-in-law.

No, sir. A friend of mine has a security company and he said I have a job there if I need it. I just don't know about becoming a rent-a-cop, though. I'm tryin' to see if I can at least work for an airline, or be a private pilot for a company or somethin'."

How'd you like to come work for me?"

Tom frowned up at him. "For you? That would be great, but I'm afraid I don't know anything about cars, sir."

Who said anything about cars?" He handed the boy a card. "Met me there tomorrow if you're interested."

Bobby Singer?" the boy read from the card and frowned up at him. "This is a salvage yard, sir."

Yeah. That's his main business, like the garage is mine. But we've got a very lucrative side business goin'. We need a good combat pilot."

Tom blinked at him. "I'm in."

Don't you want hear our pitch first? Make sure we ain't smugglin' drugs or some shit?"

I trust you, sir."

John nodded, not sure if that made the kid smart or stupid. He supposed he'd find out soon enough which he was. "Be there at 0800 hours, son. And don't screw this up."

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

It took Andrew nearly a week to talk himself into doing it. Yes, she'd said she wanted him to do it, that she'd been waiting. But he still had a hard time believing that she meant it. He asked his father for a long lunch and drove out to the State Fair, where he knew it was her shift to man a booth for the Wounded Warrior Project. "Charlotte?"

She smiled up at him. She had visited a face painter at some point who had 'transformed' her into a cat. "Charlie."

He frowned, slightly confused. "Pardon?"

"You can call me Charlie," she clarified.

"Oh… Charlie. Would you… would you have dinner with me this Saturday?" His hands were tight, sweaty fists in his pocket.

She grimaced. "Saturday's bad."

"Oh." He felt frozen in space. The only thing he felt was heat, covering his entire body, and the bit of his fingernails in his palms. What the hell had he been thinking? Maybe she meant it when she said it, but what gorgeous woman really wanted to go out with a freak like him? She'd probably thought if over and realized what a bad idea this was. He should have known better.

"But I'm free Friday," she said quickly, another bright smile lighting up her face. "That new movie's coming out this week too, isn't it?"

"Uhm, yeah. We can go see that first. Then dinner. I can pick you up around 1630 hours."

She giggled softly. "Sounds good."

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

"What're you so happy about?" John looked up at his wife over his reading glasses. She was humming and smiling as she got ready for bed.

"Andrew's got a date," she announced proudly.

"What? Really?" John closed his book and took off his glasses. "That's great."

"You sound surprised."

"I just didn't expect he'd ask anyone out yet. Men have fragile egos in the best of circumstances… I thought he'd need a little more time to work up to it."

"Apparently, the girl told him to ask her out."

John snorted. "Women. What would we do without you to tell us what to do?"

She smiled as she climbed into bed and kissed him. "It would take forever for anything to actually get done, for one thing.

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

It wasn't unheard of for their phone to ring in the middle of the night, but that didn't mean Sam was used to it. It still scared the holy hell out of him, sent his heart racing with the fear that something had happened to one of his brothers or sisters. Michael and Andrew had already had brushes with death and they were all insisted on throwing themselves into the most danger possible.

His mother's panicked voice at the other end of the phone when he answered didn't do anything to calm him down. He couldn't quite make out anything she was saying.

"Mom? What is it? What's wrong?" Jess sat up next to him and watched him with wide, frightened eyes.

"It's your father!"

"Dad?" Icy dread made him shiver. He wasn't ready to lose his father yet. He took a deep breath and forced himself to be calm. "What happened to Dad?"

"They took him!"

"Took him?" So… not dead or sick – unless she meant the paramedics took him. "Who took him, Mom?"

"I… I don't… there were all these people in black with big guns. They just broke in and flashed bright lights in our faces and took your father away and searched the house. They said they were going to extradite him, Sam!"

"Shit," he hissed softly through clenched teeth. His father had been arrested. And he'd seen the results of a government search first hand. "Do you remember what they said he's being accused of?"

There was snifling on the other end. His mother was in tears. "Kidnapping," she finally said. "Sammy, you gotta find him. Your father would never kidnap anyone. He's all… he's all alone."

"I know, Mom. Don't worry. I'll find him, okay? I'll take care of everything and I'll let you know when I find out exactly what's goin' on."

"You… you can't let them take him away from us."

"I won't. I promise, I won't. I'll call you back soon."

"What happened?" Jess asked as soon as he hung up the phone.

"Dad's been arrested." He was already speed dialing Shauna.

"Oh no!" She watched him for a second before getting up and opening a drawer.

"What're you doin'?" he asked just as he heard fumbling on the other end of the phone.

"Hello? Sammy?" His sister's sleepy voice crackled over the connection.

"I'm gonna go sit with Mary while you do your lawyer thing," Jess said as she began to pull on a pair of sweats.

"See if you can get her out of the house. It's probably a complete mess."

"What?" Shauna asked on the other end, sounding bewildered. A man's voice said something on her end of the call.

"Okay," Jess said as she slipped on a bra.

"Do you have a man over there?"

"Sammy… why the hell are you calling?"

"Dad just got dragged out of bed by the feds," he told his sister.

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. "If this is a joke, it's a really bad one."

"It's not a joke. I need you to figure out what's goin' on."

"He hasn't made his phone call?"

Sam watched his wife grab her purse and keys. He put his hand over the phone. "Drive safe and call me when you get there," he said before going back to his conversation with his sister. "He might not get a phone call under the fuckin' Patriot Act, sis." His phone beeped. "Hold on." He switched over to the incoming call without waiting for an answer. "Hello?"

"Sammy?"

"Dad! Where the fuck are you?"

"Federal lock up in Topeka. I invoked my right to counsel. You busy?"

Sam snorted as he got up. "I'm on my way. Don't say a damn word 'til I get there."

"Yes sir," his father quipped, sounding tired. "I'm gonna call your mom with my second call."

"Good," he said as he grabbed a pair of jeans and started searching for a shirt. "She's freakin' out. Tell her you're fine, we talked and that I'm on my way, but nothin' else."

His father sighed. "I understand, son."

"See you soon." He switched over again as he threw the clothes he'd selected on the bed. "That was Dad."

"So they haven't water boarded him yet?" she asked, sounding much more awake.

Sam rolled his eyes, but didn't comment. "Dad's in the federal lockup in Topeka. I'm on my way there now."

"I'll let the clan know."

"Thanks, Shauna. I'll call you after I talk to Dad. Then you can tell me who the hell your havin' a sleepover with."

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

"I figured you'd jump at the chance to represent me, son. I'm guilty."

Sam's eyes went wide and John had the sudden urge to ruffle his hair. Unfortunately, he was manacled to the table. "Dad, don't actually admit it!"

"I thought I was supposed to tell you everything."

Sam put his fingers in his ears and started humming Hey Jude. It was Mary's favorite song, and she'd sung it to all the kids when they were babies as a lullaby. John rolled his eyes and sagged back against his chair, waiting for his son to turn into a lawyer again. "Dad," his firstborn finally said when it was clear he wasn't going to say anything else, "do you have an alibi?"

John raised an eyebrow at him. "What? You think I got a clone wonderin' around?"

"You gotta give me somethin' here, Dad."

"The only thing I got to give you is the truth, son."

Sam slumped in his chair with a sigh. "Okay. Tell me the truth."

"There was this girl, got kidnapped by her father." John snorted, shook his head. "Smuggled her out of the country and kept her there. Son of a bitch brain washed her. Kid called her mother 'the American whore'."

"So… you were saving an innocent child?"

"That's what I do, Sammy. My hunting trips? I'm really rescuing kidnap victims. It's… it's my business. Sometimes I do pro bono work, but I do often get paid very nicely for my services. Bobby's really good at finding enough paying clients to balance things out."

"Uncle Bobby?" When John nodded, Sam slumped back against his chair with a huff. "Does Mom know?"

"No… she doesn't. And she's not gonna find out from you."

San blinked at him, alarmed. "Dad, you can't honestly expect me to-"

"I honestly expect you to keep whatever the hell I tell you privileged."

"Why won't you let me tell Mom?"

"I swear if you were any more of a Momma's boy, you'd still be nursing."

"Dad!"

"How well do you think that'll go over? Huh? She already hated it when I was in the Corps. How do you think she's gonna take it if I tell her that I go to foreign countries and rescue people from kidnappers and risk my life and occasionally my freedom to do it?" John didn't want to think of how that would go over.

Sam rubbed his eyes. "You… have a point."

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

"You're a mercenary?" John frowned. He was going to kill Sam.

"No… that's not… I just rescued a little girl for her mother."

"That's not what the papers are saying."

Papers? What the fuck did Sammy do? "What are you talking about?"

"It's all over the papers. How you broke into this man's home and stole his daughter. How you kidnap people for a price."

"The papers are full of shit."

"Then tell me what the hell happened, John."

"A woman hired me to get her daughter back. That's all."

"She paid you to go into a foreign county and commit what could easily have been taken as an act of war."

"She paid me to go save an innocent little girl who had been kidnapped and was being abused. If that's an act of war, then hell yeah it's what I do. If you're expecting me to apologize for that, you're gonna be waitin' a long damn time." She started to get up. "Mary, the son of a bitch had convinced that child that her eyes were brown. Her eyes are as blue as yours. What if it was our kids? What if I took them from you when they were still little and turned them against you, turned them into something they weren't meant to be. How far would you go to save them? How could I ignore her pain?"

Mary sat down heavily, her hand covering her mouth. "What about our kids, John? We need you here. We may never see you again."

He looked away and closed his eyes, but the tears still escaped. He knew that. But service was sacrifice… he'd know that too. Had always known what could happen if he was caught. He felt one of her hands in his hair. There was a rap on the glass, a reminder not to touch. She kissed him on the forehead before she withdrew.

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

"Will you give your mother something for me?" John put the folded paper he'd been clutching on the table and pushed it as close to Sam as his manacles allowed. Sam nodded and took it, slipped it inside his briefcase. With any other client, he wouldn't pass along messages, but this was his father. He somehow doubted that he was giving his mother instructions on running a criminal enterprise. Knowing him as he did, the man probably just wanted to say things that he couldn't bring himself to when he knew he was being listened to.

"I'll make sure she gets it."

"I'm sorry, son."

Sam saw the tears in John's eyes despite the older man averting them. The sight choked up him. It was bad enough to see his father chained up like this, but to see him with tears in his eyes. Sure he'd nearly cried at Sam's graduation, but he was used to seeing his father get a little teary at happy occasions. What he'd never seen before was John this defeated; hell he'd never realized it was even possible. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd reached across the table and covered his father's hand with his own. He expected his father to pull away, but he didn't. "Is there anything that you haven't told me yet , Dad? Anything at all that could help us in there tomorrow?"

"You know everything now, except one thing. I fucked up. The girl was terrified. I pulled up my mask to calm her down. Only for a few seconds, but that's plenty long enough when there are cameras about."

"That's how they found you."

John nodded, squared his shoulders. "I broke protocol, now I'm payin' for it. I don't see a way out of this, son."

Sam snorted softly. "That's why you got me. There's no way in hell I'm lettin' them take you away."

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

"Samuel Winchester, your honor."

"You're related to the defendant?" the judge asked, peering at Sam over his half-moon glasses.

"I'm his son, sir."

"Ah. And what do you have to say for your wayward father, counselor?"

"That he was simply acting at the behest of Ms. Hassan, the mother of the so called victim. The family court in Minnesota clearly gave Ms. Hassan full legal and physical custody of the child in question. This ruling was upheld on two appeals. Mr. Hassan flouted our legal system by kidnapping the child during a scheduled visitation and taking her to a foreign nation without the consent of her custodial parent. He then sought the protection of the courts in his native country. He further abused the child by brainwashing her, as indicated by the documents submitted by psychiatrists.

"I submit to this court that due to the similar nature of Mr. Hassan's crimes, he be extradited to this country for trial if my client must go to his."

"Mr. Winchester… what has Mr. Hassan's misdeeds to do with your client's?"

"The extradition laws clearly state that the offense that a person is extradited for must be a crime in both the country of origin and the country seeking extradition. If Mr. Hassan can't be extradited, certainly my client can't be for committing the exact same offence."

The State Department lawyer sighed as he stood to his feet. "They don't recognize parental kidnapping, your honor. And in any event, it's still a different crime than none parental kidnapping. That is a crime in both nations."

"But parental kidnapping is exactly what my client stands accused of."

The other lawyer scoffed. "Is defense counsel claiming his client fathered the victim?"

"No. Only that he acted as Ms. Hassan's agent in the matter of recovering her child. In doing so, my client's actions were no different than, say, Mr. Hassan's nanny or chauffer or pilot. They were all acting at the behest of the parents. Even if only one of those parents had legal custody."

"Mr. Hassan automatically had legal custody in his nation of origin."

"Then that puts us on even more equal footing."

"Your honor, Mr. Winchester is arguing apples and oranges here!"

"Alright, alright. That's enough. I need to think this through. Court is adjourned." The judge banged the gavel and was gone in a swirl of robes.

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

"Isn't he supposed to tell us when he's comin' back?" John asked when the bailiffs come to take him back to his holding cell.

"Under normal circumstances," Sam said as he stared at the door the judge went through. He nodded at one of the bailiffs. "I want to speak to my client. Please take him to a visitation room."

Ten minutes later they were sitting across from each other. Sam took a newspaper out of his briefcase. On the first page, above the fold, was a picture of Ms. Hassan clutching her daughter, with a picture of John in the inset. "What the hell's this?"

"It's publicity. Which we desperately need. They leaked the story. We needed to get our side out there."

"Why?"

"Because the State Department is filled with idiots. They didn't even try to extradite Mr. Hassan, but now they're trying to hand you over to an Islamofascist government."

"Whoa there kiddo. You're starting to sound like me."

Sam huffed out a breath, a smile quirking his lips. "I've always agreed with you about repressive regimes. The point is, if we shed light on the situation and get people pissed off over it, maybe the rats will scurry for the shadows. I think we can win with this judge. But the trick is to make sure they don't appeal. I don't wanna keep playing Russian roulette here."

John smiled and canted his head to the side. "I appreciate that since the gun's aimed at my head."

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

"I've thought over the arguments long and hard. On the one hand, the defendant did break the laws of another country, laws that he could not have been ignorant of. The lengths he went to in order to conceal his actions and cover his tracks could be seen as proof of knowledge of his guilt.

"On the other, we have a father who has blatantly disregarded the laws of this country and the welfare of his child. A man without whose actions, the defendant never would have acted. In addition, the defendant was acting on the behalf of a parent. Putting this firmly in the realm of parent kidnapping-"

The State Department lawyer jumped to his feet. "You're honor-" he sputtered, red faced.

"Sit down, sir! You've had your turn to make your arguments and objections. Now it's my turn to make a ruling." The judge glared at the man until he sunk back into his seat. "As I was saying, I believe that Mr. Winchester's arguments hold the most merit. The State Department is seeking extradition of a citizen of the United States for a crime that isn't even recognized in the complaining nation. Therefor this court denies the State Department's request to extradite."

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

Sam met his father in back of the courthouse. "I can't quite believe that's over," John sighed out as he signed for his personal belongings.

"Yeah. And I just spoke to the opposing counsel. They aren't appealing." He was grinning from ear to ear. He knew he probably looked like an idiot, but he was high on endorphins. All his other siblings were dangerous people, carrying guns and going to warzones… but he was the one who saved his father. With his law degree.

"So… it's really over?"

"Yeah. It's really over. Try not to break any more laws, Dad."

"Yeah, okay."

Sam frowned at his father. "That must be why you never lie. You really suck at it."

"Or maybe I suck at it because I've had no practice." Sam snorted and shook his head. "Son… I…"

"It's okay, Dad."

"No, let me finish, boy. You're an awesome lawyer. But… you're an even better son. You came through for me in a way no one else could have. Thank you."

Sam suddenly felt embarrassed. "You're welcome, Dad. 'S not like I was ever gonna let you rot in a foreign jail."

His father pulled him into a hug, kissing him on the cheek as he did. "I still can't believe you're this much taller than me."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Dad!"

"Freaking giant."

Sam laughed and pulled out of the hug. "Come on, Dad. Everybody's waiting for us."

SPN*SPN*SPN*SPN

"John?"

"Bobby?"

Bobby Singer snorted on the other end of the phone. The older man and his son, Robert Singer Jr. – or just Junior to everyone who knew him – made all John's specialized weapons and equipment. He was also godfather to two of John's sons and one of his best friends. Maybe the best friend he had. All the kids called him Uncle Bobby, even Dean, and they'd all learned to shoot on his gun range and shooting courses. "You'd think your business would dry up, what with you plastered all over the television. But no. I just talked to Joshua and we got clients comin' outta our asses. You got some decisions to make."

"Like?"

"Like finding someone to take point now that you can't leave the country, and whether we hire more people or send some of these clients elsewhere."

"First of all, nobody's taking point but me. And second, we got that much work?"

"I know you're a damn fool, Winchester, but even you can't be that stupid. You got charges over your head in a foreign country."

"Yeah, I noticed. But we'll just have to be careful. No more breaking protocol. I'll see what we can do about getting more boots. Maybe we can split my boys up, create a whole new team or two."