They should be here by now…

She checks her phone for the fourth time in ten minutes; unnecessarily worrying about their arrival. Is it worry though? It's not worry. Her family runs all over the country fighting pure evil and cheating death; a simple car ride home is nothing to worry about in comparison. No this is different. This is… she refuses to accept that it's excitement. If it is excitement then that would mean she's excited and if she's excited there's the large chance that today will be a letdown.

No expectations, no disappointment.

Last year this day was heartbreaking. She was completely alone. One call from Bobby at the end of the day, it poured down rain, she had fallen down the steps and bruised her ankle, and then the power went out. Neither of her uncles called, not that she really expected Dean to. I would have been nice to hear from Sam though.

Dean and I weren't even on speaking terms back then though… I should have known. Dean and I are talking again at least.

Her weight shifts to her palms as she leans over the kitchen sink to watch for them. It's a gorgeous Saturday in May. The clearing is flourishing with life again. The snowy barn switched to dusty barn, wildflowers popped up alongside the gravel, sparse bushes filled in, grass out back grew tall. The oak which holds Mai's tree house wears a new set of leaves. All the trees bare growth. The forest is ominously shaded. When passing through, Mai can catch a handful of sunshine patches breaking the leafy barrier. At this point, she can't see the highway from the guest window any longer. A thick canopy surrounds the house on all sides. Her eyes watch for movement. Ten minutes pass with nothing.

Any minute… any darn minute.

Mai looks down at her phone. No messages, no calls. She jumps as it vibrates in her hand.

'1 New Messages'

Inside she lights up, then forces herself to let go of any anticipation. The foremost idea of who sent her this text is her family, but in the back of her mind Jett's name pops up. Every text message she receives her mind flashes to her new hunter friend. They had agreed when he left in February that he'll call or text before popping in. A precaution in case her family is around. She hasn't heard from him since March when he sent a simple message asking how she was.

But, ever since he left, she's found her thoughts drifting into imagining him stopping by, pondering what they would talk about, if they would talk at all. She's found herself jumping at phone calls and her heart beating while picking up the mail, all the while wondering if there's some way he got ahold of the home phone number or her proper address. She's found herself wanting to see him again and she doesn't like it.

Stop. Just stop. You're being a freak. Don't think about him. He probably never thinks about you. He's off hunting or whatever.

She tries to act like it doesn't bother her that he's MIA. She's alone so often, she not sure who she's trying to fool. It does bother her. He jumped into her life, talked her into being more than acquaintances, and then jumps out without a word for months.

He said he liked me…

She's replayed his words in her head often. Mai's not naïve, she knows it's platonic interest. She knows he was merely saying that he likes her as compared to strangers or ass holes. The phrase still took her aback on impact. Her phone vibrates in her hand once again.

'2 New Messages'

She presses the button and tries to repress anticipation.

Walter Pipp (1:32 P.M.) HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

Walter Pipp (1:34 P.M.) Are we still on for hanging out later? I really want to give you your gift before I leave tomorrow.

Mai smiles a genuine smile.

Mai Winchester (1:35 P.M.) Thanks Walt! But I told you no presents, we can go to Waffle King later though.

'1 New Messages'

Walter Pipp (1:38 P.M.) too bad, I got you something, deal with it. that sounds good though, do you want me to pick you up?

Mai is about to start a reply when she hears an engine shut off outside. Doors open and shut, heavy boots shuffle across the gravel, the unmistakable voices of her family. She doesn't even get a chance to move from her perch when the front door opens and Sam and Bobby step into the hallway.

"Mai?"

"Uncle Bobby!" Mai cheers running to give the older man a hug. It's been almost six months since she's seen him.

"Happy birthday kid." She can hear the smile in his voice.

She releases herself to jump onto Sam.

"I missed you…" She muffles into his shirt, arms wrapped around his back. He gives her a squeeze.

"I missed you too."

Mai dismounts and looks past the men.

"Dean with you?" She asks trying to sound nonchalant.

"He's outside …with your present." Bobby answers.

Mai furrows her brows.

"You guys didn't have to-"

"No, we did." Sam interrupts, "Come on"

Bobby nods towards the door that Sammy has just slipped out of. Mai walks cautiously, head spinning with ideas of what they could possibly have gotten her and why they can't bring it in the house.

Pet werewolf maybe? She jokes to herself.

The chuckle forming in her throat dies at the sight in the driveway. Mai's mind still whirls, not sure if she should ask if it's hers or not. Dean hasn't noticed her yet. He's still working the tow truck, trying to get the vehicle off the line. Bobby walks over to it, slapping the bed a couple times, before assisting Dean. Mai notices the large bandage wrapped around his left forearm and how he's holding it close to his side. A pang of worry slips through her. As he backs off allowing Bobby to finish, he turns, walking over to Mai and Sam.

"What do you think?" Sam asks pulling her by the shoulder into his side.

"It's mine?" Mai juts out.

"Happy birthday." Dean answers with a hint of a smile. Mai just stands with her mouth open partially, "We figured a truck would work for you. You have your license now, so..." He shoves his hands into his pockets.

Mai looks down at him from the porch steps.

"It was mostly Bobby's idea" Sam says, "He had it in the yard."

"Thank you guys…" Mai finally says, "Can I take it for a drive?" Excitement bubbles out of her mouth. Bobby laughs

"It's torn to crap sweetheart. You're going to have to fix her up first."

Mai deflates, with a thoughtful purse of the lips. Sam speaks.

"I figured you could work on it with Dean."

Sam looks down at her apprehensively awaiting her response. Mai stiffens; her expression is a fake smile and irritation at his meddling. She glances at Dean who doesn't seem fazed and shakes off the pit in her stomach. They are "fine" after all, she wonders if this could be a good thing.

"Come on, let's head inside." Sam pulls on her shoulder a touch before slipping into the house.

Dean follows, brushing past her. Mai sits on the steps and wait for Bobby to finish releasing the truck before returning to worn white building.

After stories of the road, some dinner, cherry pie with seventeen candles shoved in it, and Sam and Bobby retiring to the study for what Mai assumed to be a little bourbon, books, and research, Mai sits up on a work bench in the barn. Dean's bent over the rusted out engine of her truck. Her 1976 Ford F-150 Ranger long bed pickup truck. She thinks that it suits her. The two tone green paint job is still in decent condition. There are a few cracks in the windshield, one of the mirrors is broken, the engine of course needs attention, but she can see it being hers.

"Hey, are you just going to sit there, or do you want to learn how to fix this?" Dean asks from his spot under the hood. Mai slides off and walks over, leaning onto the car.

"Okay… so-"

"What happened to your arm?" Mai interrupts.

Dean shifts uncomfortably, and continues turning something with a wrench. He looks over his shoulder at her.

"Just an injury from the job." He states, then returns to his work.

"Werewolf?"

"What? No, Mai it's just a cut."

"Was it a ghost, did you get shot?"

"It's a cut." He repeats.

"Did you fall?"

"Mai…" His voice touches on a growl

"How did you hurt yourself?" She retorts.

"Sam ran into me with a machete okay!?" He snaps out from under the hood. Mai silences herself, trying her best to suppress the smile forming on her lips. Dean sees this and sighs.

"He… There was a vampire okay? It ran us into each other and Sammy got choppy… stop laughing!" He frowns at his niece.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't-" she chokes down a chuckle, "I wasn't laughing."

"Can we get back to the car now?" Dean growls.

Mai nods. He hovers over the engine and she follows. The next hour is spent leaning the basics of car engines and taking notes on what needs fixed to get it up and running again. Mai understands half of what he says. The rest of the information she decides she can look up online, too embarrassed to let him see that she's not grasping everything. Somewhere around checking the pressure in the tires, her phone vibrates in her back pocket.

Walter Pipp (7:54 P.M.) We still getting together tonight?

Shoot…

"Can I borrow the truck?" She asks.

"The tow truck?" Dean asks, "What do you need it for?"

"I told a friend I'd meet him."

"Wait, him?" Dean probes.

"Walter, from school. My friend" Mai stresses.

"Why don't you take the Impala?" Sam's voice interjects.

Mai and Dean both turn to see the man leaning against the barn door. Dusk sets in around him shadowing his face. Mai's face is frozen in disbelief, Dean's in defense about someone taking his Baby.

"What?" Dean questions disdainfully.

"Call it another birthday present." Sam shrugs.

"Um… I can take the truck." Mai reassures, still shocked that he would even suggest she drive Dean's car.

"Well, not really since Bobby just took it to pick some things up."

"Sammy-" Dean starts, but he's cut off by a Sam Winchester bitch face of epic proportions.

"Here" the tall man holds out the Impala keys for her to take.

Mai's eyes flip back and forth between her uncles, unsure of what to do. Dean looks pissy and contemptuous, but Sam's face is reassuring, pushing her to take the keys. She bites the inside of her mouth, ripping a bit of flesh. Copper tasting blood mixes with saliva in her mouth. Sam rolls his eyes and walks over, resting the keys in her hands. She looks over at Dean apprehensively waiting for his say. His brows are furrowed, but he relents.

"Just don't scratch her. In fact drive under the speed limit." He crosses his arms looking as pissed as can be.

"I promise I won't hurt her!" Mai assures with a nervous smile. She runs towards the house to grab her wallet.

"And no parallel parking!" she hears Dean yell from the barn.

Mai Winchester (8:13 P.M.) Yeah, I'll pick you up, be there in 10.

"What the hell is this!?" Walter besieges, faltering down the steps of his house in town.

Mai giggles with a wide smile, leaning out the driver's side window.

"What do you think?" She asks innocently.

"It's… it's… holy crap Mai! Is it yours?" His eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

"Oh god no! I wish; it's my uncles'"

Walter nods mouth still open, "What, uh, what model is it?"

"1967 Chevy Impala. Now are you just going to stand there or are we going to get some waffles?"

"Yeah, Waffle King…" He walks around to the passenger's side, lightly running his finger across the hood and delicately opening the door to slide onto the bench seat. Mai rolls her eyes and puts Baby in gear.

"Just don't touch anything; Dean will kill me if I mess up his car." She pulls out onto the road.

"I will look with my eyes." Walt's voice drifts, his eyes working hard to absorb every inch of the car.

"Yeah, this is a rental for the night… My car needs some attention before I can drive it…" She tests, eyes not leaving the road.

"Whoa! You got a car for your birthday!?"

"It's just an old pickup in need of some love." She chuckles.

"Still! Mai that's awesome! You don't have to walk everywhere now."

"Exactly."

"Choco-PB-Waffle-lotta and two cups of coffee, please." Walt orders for them as they sit down on avocado swivel stools.

Orange hair waitress nods, grabbing them silverware and paper placemats. Mai smiles and notices the strip of pink in her bangs before Orange hair walks back to the kitchen. She vows to herself that one of these days she's going to compliment that waitress on her hair. One day when Mai feels a bit bolder. She reads over the local advertisements printed on her placemat, thinking that she should rip out that coupon for the 24-hour drycleaner before she leaves. A couple of Sam and Dean's suits could be cleaned before they head out again. Dean managed to get vampire blood all over the sleeve of his grey jacket.

"Well it's not a car, but here." Walt hands her a large thin square wrapped in pink tissue paper.

"Walter, you really didn't have to get me anything."

"Shut up and open it." He teases.

She gently rips back the tape and unfolds the layers of tissue.

"Holy crap Walt! Where the hell did you find this?" Mai flips the record over to read the back of the packaging. Walter shrugs.

"The internet. You can order them from their website. I was surprised that they were making vinyl but you know. It's your favorite band so… do you like it?"

"The Flaming Starfish on vinyl…" she echoes still enthralled with reading the track list, "Yes, I love it. Thank you."

She sets down the record and swivels to latch her arms around his neck. Walt stiffens at the contact but after stuttering for a moment he gingerly slips his arms around her back. Mai doesn't let go at first, instead taking her time to hold onto her best friend. He smells like slushies from Speedy Hut and she smiles.

"You're too good for me…" She mumbles in his ear, oblivious to the affect she has. Walt's breath hitches momentarily, but Mai doesn't notice.

"I… um, happy birthday…?" He manages.

Mai pulls back, hands still latched onto his shoulders. She looks deep into his eyes not saying anything, just watching her friend. His grey eyes are confused.

"Um, Mai… our waffles are here."

"Okay." She smiles and removes her hands.

Walt starts cutting into the chocolate peanut butter waffle dessert covered in whipped cream.

"Thanks for being my best friend…" Mai says in a hushed tone.

Before he can respond, Mai shoved a forkful off waffle into her mouth and brushes off her comment.

Pitch black. 1:27 in the morning. The Flaming Starfish play on Dean's record player that she's borrowed. Mai lays on her bedroom floor, eyes closed, ears open, entire being tingling at the sound. Something hits the window. Mai's eyes snap open, dark blue irises searching the ceiling through the darkness.

Must have been a bug

She closes her eyes again, relaxing the muscles in her shoulders as they had stiffened at the sound. Moments of lulling music and darkness pass, Mai finally sifts back into relaxation. She finds this evening to be a beautiful ending to a beautiful birthday. Something hits the window again.

Mai doesn't blow it off as a 'bug' any longer. Another something hits the window. Three times can't be something insect related. She sweeps the needle off the vinyl record without getting up off the floor. She figures they can't see her if she's on the floor. Anyway, she's merely in an oversized tee shirt and a pair of navy polka dot boy briefs, hardly the kind of attire to be consorting with others in. That's assuming that what's causing this noise is human. It could be an animal, or a monster, or a ghost.

Mai thinks about slipping down the end of the hall into Sam's room and asking him to check things out. She shakes her head. It's probably nothing and running to him would be the equivalent of crawling into his bed because she thinks there's a monster in her closet. She knows that it's nonsense. First, there is no way a monster can fit in her precisely organized closet; she barley has room for her own things in there. Second, she's not a five year old. Third, that metaphor insinuates monsters being made up in the mind, where in reality they roam the earth she lives. This noise at the window isn't a certain fact yet, it still could be a bug. Then something hits the window a fourth time, louder than before.

Not a bug…

Her heart hitches in her chest at the thought of a particular person waiting for her outside the window, but she represses it before it can be really considered. But is that… whispering she hears? It is whispering she hears. It's a soft "pssst" from very close by, clearly the same elevation as she. Curiosity gets the best of her. Mai flips onto her stomach and crawls army-style along the floor to the window. Left hand places itself on the sill, then right hand, and slowly, cautiously, a head of dusty blonde hair bops up until blue eyes and freckles look out into the back yard.

Nothing. No one down below, no one in throwing distance, no one hidden in the bushes, nothing. She feels mixed emotions of relief and disappointment.

Don't be ridiculous Mai. Stop being an idiot and accept that he's gone.

She pulls the window open a crack more to let in more fresh air. The night is cool to a degree, but still a bit muggy for her room. Then there it is again; "pssst". Something has seen her, someone wants her attention. She skims over the backyard in the dark. Not a soul in sight.

"Pssst! …Miss Mai."

Oh shit.

One being in the entire world calls her 'Miss Mai'; one being that, for as much as her mind's being drifting to him, she does not want to actually see at this time. She pulls the window open the entire way, leaning over the sill with her head craned to spot him.

"Over here… in the tree!" she hears directly in front of her. The voice is barely audible.

Oh god, he's in the tree house.

"Jett!?" She whispers hoarsely, "What are you doing?"

"Phone broke. Lost your number; was in town."

Mai thinks of the quietest way to kill him. Bobby is across the hall in the guest bedroom, Uncle Sammy is passed out three doors down, and Dean's in his room on the main floor, but heaven knows they are all light sleepers. She can't go outside without walking down the creaky steps and waking them all, but she can't lean out the window and whisper to him all night either.

Damn it. You wanted to see him… idiot.

"My family is home!" her voice shouts in a whisper. Jett doesn't respond. She rolls her eyes and tries to push away her worry and deal with this.

"Hold on…" she says.

Leaving the window, Mai hunts for something under her bed. She hopes it's still in decent condition; it's been years since she last used it. Hopefully it will hold his weight. Her hand grazes the rope ladder and she slides it out. Dusty as hell, but it looks usable enough. She returns to the window, tossing him one end of the braided ladder.

"Attach the clips on the ends to the hooks by the window and climb over." She instructs.

It's only seven or so feet from the house to the tree. When she was younger she never wanted to leave the fortress Dean built her. She would stay up there late into the night. Sam constructed her a ladder that clipped into the windows; an easy entrance to her room. Most people would have seen how horribly dangerous this was; if she were to fall off the ladder it's a ten foot drop. Her uncles had faith in her climbing abilities though, and in all the times she's used it, her trips were safe ones.

She clicks the clips on her end in place to the clasps on the floor. She prays the rope will hold and watches as Jett grasps one of the rungs and slips down to cross like monkey bars. The clips creak, and Mai holds her breath. The last thing she needs is for Jett to fall. For her family to find her sneaking a boy into the house. At 1:30 in the morning. While she isn't wearing any pants.

I should put some clothes on…

She moves away from the window and pulls on a pair dirty jean shorts from the hamper. Just as she's about to reach for her bra heavy feet touch the wood floor and huffs and sighs can be heard behind her.

"Okay, that was… something." Jett says at a normal volume. The stillness of the house makes his voice resonate.

"Shhhh!" She hushes, padding over to him swiftly and pressing her palm to his mouth.

For a moment they stand there. Jett's back up against the wall, Mai pressed against him, with her hand on his mouth, looking over her shoulder at the door expectantly. No one enters; no noise is heard in the hallway. Mai finally releases her grip on his mouth and backs away, still on tiptoes.

"My family members are light sleepers, hunter sleepers. Just be very quiet." She whispers.

Jett presses a finger to his lips and nods his head in acknowledgement.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have come…" He murmurs.

"You're here now."

"I was in town; just thought I'd stop by, get your number again. My phone got… eaten."

"Eaten?" Mai tilts her head to the side. Jett can just see her questioning expression in the lowlight.

"Yeah, eaten… Werewolf. The full moon was a week ago."

"Oh yeah. Everything go okay with that hunt?" She asks out of genuine curiosity. She always has liked hearing hunting stories.

"Yeah, other than the casualty of my phone… and the loss of your number…" Mai thinks hears something… playful in his voice?

Is that a flirtation? He's not flirting… wait what? Mai, shut up.

"Um, yeah. Here, let me write it down for you." She treads over to her desk and scribbles her cell number onto a post-it note.

"Thanks" he says as she hands it over to him.

And then the conversation hits a wall. Mai leans against her desk with her arms crossed over her bra-less boobs, Jett fiddles with the post-it. She wonders how long this visit of his will perdure. More importantly she wonders how he's going to get out of the house when he does choose to leave. Her interest in seeing her new friend again is tainted with the anxiety of someone else seeing her new friend. Of all the times for him to drop by, it has to be on her birthday, when all of her family is under one roof. She traces little circles over a mole on her arm.

Happy birthday… She thinks to herself and involuntarily lets out a soft giggle.

"Something funny?" Jett asks.

"Er… nothing, just thinking." She covers.

Jett nods a few times mostly to himself. He runs thin fingers through his hair. It's grown since she last saw him and is now shaggier, reaching just below his eyebrows. Still that dark espresso color and slight unkempt wave to it though. She eyes his face, the scars from his last visit have almost completely depleted. A few new light scratches are laced through his left eyebrow. They have already scabbed over and the outer half of his brow is missing chunks. She wonders the story behind that wound; if it's something hunter-like and heroic or as ridiculous a slip up as Dean's macheted arm.

"Vinyl?" He asks pointing to Dean's record player.

"Oh, yeah, a gift from today." She says, pushing away from the desk and kneeing down beside the machine. The disk still spins, awaiting the needle to conduct its sound.

"What was today?" Jett asks sitting down across from her and resting his arms on his propped knees.

"My birthday." She doesn't know why she's telling him this.

Inside she feels like a glutton for attention for bringing it up, seeing as he'll feel obligated to wish her happy birthday and such. On the other hand, she sees it as a conversation starter. If he's going to be here, it's better to whisper on about something than stare each other down in the dark. Jett takes this information in a very different direction than Mai expects.

"When did your mother die?"

Mai doesn't answer, not sure how and taken aback by the abruptness of the question. Jett bites his lip.

"I'm sorry, never mind… It's none of my business." He retreats

"No, it's… well, it's not. But that's okay…" her mother's been in her thoughts all afternoon, she'll be lying to say otherwise, but family isn't something she just talks freely about with anyone.

Any interest she has in talking vanishes. It's not really Jett's fault she figures, she just doesn't have anything left to say. After three months without a word to each other and she can't think of a thing she wants to ask or tell him. Instead Mai takes the needle of the record player and sets it to the first track. In the short time she's possessed this album she's fallen in love with the layout of the tracks. Her fingers tap to the beat of the drum. In her mind she mimics the guitar. Her eyes close again and she just holds herself in that spot. If she were to open them, she'll see Jett across from her, eyes closed as well, skull resting against the bed's frame, accepting that words do not need to be spoken at this moment.

A/N: I am a day late with this chapter, but at least I got to publish this week! I'm caught up on pre-written chapters and I literally finished proof reading this moments ago. I'm a little uncertain of it to be honest, but I promised to publish, and I'm working on keeping promises.

Is this sucking? I want honesty, don't hold back bad reviews. Big girls don't cry about harsh words from internet strangers. I can take it.