We all took turns driving. Well, I wasn't allowed to drive "baby" at all, and Ninja wasn't allowed to ride in her, so by taking turns, I mean that every once in a while, Sam or Dean would drive my truck so I could have a break. Sometimes one of them rode with me, but it was awkward. I wasn't used to company, let alone Dean Winchester's company.

When Sam was in the car, we chatted amicably. It was mostly small talk, but we did talk shop a bit. He seemed like a genuinely nice guy. Sometimes the conversation would head in a decidedly "Deanish" direction, and I had to resist the urge to pry. Or blush. Or scream. Of course, that didn't stop Sam from offering up little tid bits. Sometimes I felt like he was alluding to something, and I just wasn't quite getting the hint.

"You and Dean-"

"No." I cut him off. I didn't know what he was going to ask, but the idea of "Me and Dean" just reminded me of something that could never be. I'd rather have avoided it completely.

Sam chuckled. "Okay. Well, I think it will be nice to have a new face around. We haven't had anyone at the bunker since-" He trailed off, clearing his throat. "It's been a while."

I don't know what it was about them, but Sam and Dean always seemed to be hiding sadness, just below the display of bravado. I knew how they felt.

We pulled in to a rest area 20 miles outside of Lebanon in the wee hours of the morning. It was supposed to be a 24 hour drive, but between Dean's break neck pace and the 5.0 liter v8 engine in my truck that I was, I'll admit, a little smug about, we were about 5 hours ahead of schedule. I set the truck keys on the counter as I paid, stifling a yawn. When I looked up, dean was behind the wheel of the truck, scanning radio stations. I sighed, snugging my sweater around myself. The sneaky bastard had filched my truck keys, and now I was going to have to have all sorts of self control and dignity in an awkward situation while sleep deprived. Apparently I sucked at that in the best of circumstances. Balls.

I deliberately took my time letting Ninja out to stretch his legs and do his business. When I hauled myself up into the truck, Dean smiled at me. It caught me off guard, and it was all I could do to breath, let alone remember my resolution about self control and dignity and form a coherent thought. It made me mad, although more at myself. I wanted to say something witty, or even just not act like an idiot. I guess my expectations were just too high.

"What?" I snapped at him. It had only been a second, but it felt like time had stopped before I was able to collect myself. Dean just raised an eyebrow and shook his head, smirking. He may have even chuckled, but I was focused on pretending that I wasn't paying attention to him, so I missed it. I sat cross legged on the seat, idly scratching Ninja on the head while he stretched out in the back of my crew cab. Instead of getting back on the interstate, we wove through the back woods roads into the boonies.

After the silence stretched on for, what I felt, was an uncomfortable amount of time, I couldn't take it anymore. I felt like I was suffocating from all of the... whatever... that had been building up between us over the last 48 hours. I caved, and broke the silence. "My family and I used to stay at a fishing resort in Minnesota. There were always a ton of scary stories we'd tell each other to pass the time." I sighed. "I suppose it would be stupid to be surprised if I found out they were all true. You ever hunt the hook man?" I laughed nervously.

"Yeah. He was a dick."

"Shit."

The silence drew on for a few moments. "Most scary stories are meant to warn teenage girls away from being slutty nuisances." I finally spoke again.

Dean barked a laugh. "Did you know many slutty nuisances?"

"You could say that." I blushed. When I was a teenager, before the real world reared up and bit me in the ass, I suffered from a disease of the mind known only as "Used to be Fat, Still has Low Self Esteem." I may have kissed one too many boys growing up. In the small town where I went to high school, I may have had a big ol' A embroidered on my cheer leading uniform. (I did, actually, but only because I'm from Akron. Not the one in Ohio, either.)

The silence wasn't AS uncomfortable this time, and I dozed off.

"We're here..." I felt the deep voice more than heard it as it rumbled through my body, strong arms wrapped around me. I blinked my eyes blearily. I felt Dean set me on my feet by my truck. I couldn't have been out more than 5 minutes, but I felt like I'd been hit by a truck. Driving for 18 hours would do that to you.

We were in a really nice garage, full of REALLY nice cars. I let myself enjoy the view as Dean and Sam led Ninja and I into the bunker. When we got to the main hall, I was a little surprised. "You're catching flies." Dean's smirk made me want to punch him. Or kiss him. Or run.

I snapped my mouth shut and started to wander. When Dean said "Bat Cave" I guess I didn't have my metaphorical thinking cap on, because the bunker was WAY nicer than I expected. At the very least I figured it would be a man cave that smelled like a locker room with naked ladies on the wall. This place was downright elegant!

Sam and Dean were discussing the case, and I was just too tired to have a meaningful contribution to the conversation, so Ninja and I wandered, exploring. In addition to the marble, cherry wood, and all around richness of the place, it happened to be a nerd's wet dream. I'd managed to find a library of the occult not too far off the main room, and settled in for a good read. Naturally, my body didn't agree with my brain. I don't remember a thing on those pages. I do remember being surprised at how comfortable the tiny little couch in the corner was...