Can You See Me Now?

Chapter 13: Homecoming Hope

A/N:  Sorry for the wait. I've been über busy, so thanks for sticking with me :) It's kind of a fun little chapter, nothing too serious. xD You're all awesome! -Chelsea

Unwillingly, Grace walks back over to the Winchester table, plastering on a fake smile and cheery undertone. 

“Hello, my name is Grace, and I will be your server today.  Would you like anything to drink?”  Dean just gives her a deep glare that could light a kitten on fire, spontaneous combustion style.

“I asked what you’re doing here!  I specifically told you that you need to stay at the motel and relax!  You can’t seem to do anything right, can you?”  Dean shakes his head, barely noticeable. 

“I’ll have a coffee, please.  Dean wants coffee, too.”  Sam interjects, giving Grace a bit of a break.

“Ok, I’ll have that for you here in just a minute or two.  And thanks,” she tells Sam.  He nods and smiles, knowing how annoying his brother can be.

“What is she doing here?” Dean asks Sammy.

“Well, I don’t know what you think, but it looks like she works here.”  Sam can’t help but tease his brother.  Dean often takes things way to literal and needs to learn to lighten up a bit.

“No, I mean why did she not stay at the motel?  I mean, does she think that thing isn’t after her anymore since we’re here to protect her?  An even more important question:  why haven’t they fired her yet?  I mean, it seems like everyone who knows her face is avoiding her like the plague.  Why hasn’t she been fired yet?  I wouldn’t want a murderer to work for me.  I mean, maybe since I’m a hunter it’d be helpful, but I mean…to work at a [BIG]gerson’s?  I don’t think so…”

“Ok, so two coffees black with plenty of cream and sugar for sweet lil Sammy.  Can I take your orders?”  She whips out a small memo pad and pencil.

“What are you doing here, Grace?  My brother is wondering why you haven’t been fired yet.”  Sam calmly asks, as if he were asking the specials today.

“Well, I’ve been working here since the beginning of the summer, but since the whole murder spree has happened, and I’m linked to it, my boss told me today would be my last.  And, well, since I didn’t come in yesterday, I sure as hell wasn’t going to miss the last day I’ll ever hold a job in this shithole of a town, let alone my last payday!  So, here I am, treasuring my last day until my co-worker gave me false hope by telling me there were two great looking guys in my section, and they turned out to be you two.”  That comment got a scoff from Dean and a coy smile from Sam.  “Plus,” she added, “I need just a little more money for my homecoming dress, and this will give me that and just a little more for spending.”  Dean couldn’t believe his ears.  Dresses and being called unattractive; he just couldn’t take it.  Ok, he decides.  He’ll play the game.

“Ok, so what are your specials?”  He asks just to annoy the hell out of her.

“They are on page three under the section assigned ‘Specials Every Day.’”

“Yes, but I’d like to hear you tell them to me.”  He pushes, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest and a smug look of content on his lips. 

“Sam, what would you like?”  Grace’s eyes wander over to Sam, who seems all to amused by the conversation Grace is trying so hard to stop.

“Um, a garden salad with light ranch, please.”

“Figures,” Dean mutters under his breath, rolling his eyes at his brother’s choice of food.  Sometimes he thinks Sam is a rabbit and is ashamed of him.

“I’ll disregard that comment, Dean.  What would you like?”  Grace raises her eyebrows, scribbling Sam’s order on the fibrous pad.

“So glad you asked!” he exclaims in a faker than fake excitement.  “I’ll have the double bacon cheeseburger, extra pig, no rabbit food on it, and a double order of fries.”  Dean closes the menu and hands it to Grace, smirking.

“Ok, so I have a garden salad, light ranch, and a double bacon cheeseburger, extra spit.  Be back with your order as soon as it’s done.”  Her face beaming from a pearlescent grin, Grace spins on her heel, walking away with a little more bounce in her step. 

Dean, eyes wide and obviously offended, he looks toward Sam, who doesn’t notice much, as he is in a fit of laughter, not even trying to suppress his enjoyment of the ogle-eyed expression on Dean’s face.

“She…that little brat!!  She’s mistaken if I’m giving her so much as a PENNY!!” he hollers over the chitchat of the restaurant, but only one or two heads turned his way, Grace’s not being one of them.  Finally pulling a serious face together, Sam leans over the table to Dean.

“Dude.  First of all, you need to learn not to piss off the people who handle your food.  Second, you are going to pay your bill because otherwise, we will either have to wash dishes or have the police called on us, and I know you well enough to know that you don’t want either.  Finally, this is her last day and she needs the money for a dress-it’s very important to her.  So, no matter what, we’re giving her a five-dollar tip, and we will take her back to the motel in the Impala tonight.  C’mon, Dean, have a heart.”  With those last words, Sam cracks a smile, knowing how hard it is for Dean to show his heart to Sam, let alone to a just as stubborn and defensive girl like Grace.

“You know you can be a bitch sometimes, right?”  Dean taunts, rolling his eyes and leaning back in his seat.  Sam just looks at him, knowing Dean has had a long, stressful day and needs some grub and a good night’s sleep in order to be tolerable. 

Approximately ten minutes later, Grace trounces out from behind the counter carrying two large plates on a huge, round, plastic platter balanced precariously on her shoulder.

“Here is Sammy’s garden salad, light ranch, plus I brought some extra on the side just in case you want more.  Dean, your double cheeseburger, extra bacon, no lettuce, tomato, or onion, and a double order of fries.  Anything else I can get you boys?  Need more coffee?”  Without a response, though, she poured fresh coffee into their mugs, smiling, and walked off. 

“And she gets crazier,” Dean states, takes a deep bite of his burger, and releases a sound that should be confined to the bedroom behind closed doors.  When the boys were finished with their meal, Grace comes back promptly, fills up their cups again, and asks if they want dessert.

“Nah, thanks, Grace.  I’m good.”  Sam says, looking over at Dean patting his belly.

“No, I’m ok, I guess.”  Dean says, eying the pie case.  Seeing his trail of vision, Grace leans down, whispers something Dean leans in closely to hear but fails, and Sam whispers back, pokerface on.  Grace high-tails it to the pie case, grabs out the largest piece of cherry pie she can find, and walks back to the table, setting the piece in front of Dean.

“What…why did you give me pie?”  And incredulous look crosses over Dean’s face as Grace sets a shiny, clean fork down beside the pie plate.

“It’s on the house.  Heard it was your favorite, and it looked like you needed it.  Enjoy!”  Without so much as a thank you muttered out of his mouth, it’s full of pie and Dean is back to making ‘yummy’ noises, if that’s how they would be categorized.