Dean was in a foul mood by the time they got to this "Harvalle's Roadhouse", because he'd had to drive a beat up, filthy station wagon van that made him "feel like a soccer mom", since the Impala was still under construction. Having guns pulled on him and Sam when they walked in wasn't helping at all. Before the older woman could ask them whatever question it was she wanted to ask them, however, the blonde behind them made a startled noise. Dean turned, and she was sitting on the floor, on her butt, and Alex was holding the double-barrel in her hand.
"And, just this mornin', you said I don't teach her nothin'." Dean grinned at Sam, and took the gun.
"Who are you people?" the older woman demanded.
"Sam, Dean and Alex Winchester." Sam answered.
"Winchester? You're John's kids?" she asked softly, lowering her weapon.
"Yes, m'am." Dean said, still eyeing her suspiciously.
"Jo, go get these boys a beer. And... maybe a cream soda for the little bit."
"All right, g'head, Jo." Ellen said, and the girl hustled off. "I'm Ellen Harvalle; that was my daughter, Jo."
"How'd you know our Dad?" Dean demanded.
"Well, he and my husband used to work together, long, long time ago."
Dean frowned. "Never mentioned you all."
"Well, no, he wouldn't have. Decided that he works better solo."
"Sounds like Dad." Sam thought to himself. "I'll bet in pre-school he had to wear a sign 'does not play well with others'." he thought to himself with a smirk...
After a couple of hours had gone by, Dean had assesed a few things. One, he liked Ash, the genius who looked like a Lynard Skynard roadie. Two, Jo seemed about ten seconds away from throwing her panties at him, and her mother was a little scary. So, he decided to take the case she offered, and be on his way.
"You're bringing a 12 year old on hunt like this, though? Are you sure that's safe?" Ellen asked innocently.
Sam tensed, seeing Dean get his defensive stance up.
"Look, lady, I just met you. Don't question how I take care of my sister. She's fine. She's trained for this." he said in a slightly dangerous tone, one that made Sam more than just a little nervous.
Jo looked at her mother incredulously. "Momma, you bitch me out 'cause I wanna hunt now, an' I'm 20!"
"And I'll bitch you out for it if you're 40, Joanna Beth! You ain't doin' it!"
Before their argument began to escalate further, Sam and Dean yanked Alex out of the bar and on to the hunt, which turned out to be at a Carnival.
"Clowns... stupid clowns..." Sam muttered to himself.
"Oh, that's right; you hate clowns." Dean chuckled.
"Do not..." Sam said defensively.
"You do. You usta cry when Ronald MacDonald came on TV."
"Dude, you took me to the theaters to see IT when I was in kindergarten!"
"What's IT?" Alex asked.
"Nothing you need to see. Ever."
"Okay..." Alex shrugged.
"All right, you got the drill, right, Cupcake?" Dean asked her.
"For the thirtieth time, Dean, yes." Alex said a bit huffily. "I'm just any other customer and I'm going around, while you guys are more on the inside pretending to work, and we have the cellphones for contact."
"No talking to anybody." Sam said suddenly.
"Dude, how can I find out anything if I don't talk to anybody? That's the biggest part of our finding out process."
"Well, yeah, but..." Sam sighed. She was right, but... the whole sending his 12 year old baby sister to a carnival full of weirdos to talk to strangers was not exactly an idea that put his mind at ease.
"If someone starts coming across creepy, turn your cell on in your pocket; dial one of us. We'll find you." Sam said finally.
"Right. Okay. Promise." Alex said, walking away as they went towards the office...