sixwordstories | (no subject)

*She steps out from around the corner, not really all that surprised to see him there. There's a case that needs working. It's not really a shock to see him staked out. She's not in the right time, or maybe even the right universe (she still wasn't sure how all of that worked, and Willow wasn't exactly around to ask), but some things never changed.* I don't think I'm who you meant to ask.

[Oh. Dean had suspected it to be Sam, back from the store already, but apparently not. Sitting in the car was starting to get really boring and Dean had started to wish he had left instead of Sam] Sorry, I thought you were my brother.

*Sorry, Dean. Wrong Sam. She shifts the bag on her shoulder a little awkwardly and nods.* No problem. And hey, can't blame you for wanting pie. It's good stuff.

[Dean grinned, leaning against the car door. A girl who liked pie was his kind of girl. He, of course, had no idea who he was talking to] Pie's awesome. I never understood cake people.

*And he won't if she has her way. 'Hey, I may or may not be your daughter from the future' isn't exactly a good way to prove you're not crazy.* Cake has some appeal, too. Pie is just so much more versatile.

[Dean grinned and nodded] So, what are you doing here, if I may ask? It's really late and this isn't exactly a safe neighbordhood.

I... work around here. *It's not exactly a lie. She was working when she saw the Impala. There was a morbid part of her that couldn't resist seeing his face though. She missed her parents and it had been two weeks.*

You work around here? You don't look like a hooker. [She really didn't, though Dean never knew. He probably wouldn't have even stepped out of the car if he didn't have his gun]

I am so not a hooker. *Yeah, there's more than a little indignation there now. Though she really should have expected that considering the area. Huh.*