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[Incoming Call: Bobby] What in God's name d'ya think ya playin' at boy? How many times you thought about givin' me a call just to tell me how you are?
"Bobby.. I er.. umm. It's been a bit of a problem.. see... Its Sam. He's been acting strange.."
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"People been handin' out my number like a piece of candy at Halloween, I swear if I find who my foot will-...Well you get th' idea." He grumbled a little. "Usually just information though I've had a few after car repairs surprisingly. You'd think a hunter could fix their own damn car."
Dean chuckled softly, ”You? Actually fix a car? I’m amazed you still remember how to change a tire, it was probably the 20th century when you last fixed something.” he said, a smile playing at his lips.
"Uh...hello is there anything I can help you with?"
"I don't care if'ya brother is the one with all the know-how on gadgets. You still have a damn phone." Bobby tutted a little, arms crossing over his chest. "Careful who'yer callin' old, Son...I've had god knows how many damn hunters comin' through my doors lately. It's ridiculous."
He rolled his eyes at Bobby, ”Yeah, yeah, I’ll keep you updated next time.” he muttered.
”Really? What they after?” he asked. He’d always thought it was really just him and Sammy who got help from Bobby, and to be honest he felt quite put out by the thought that he was just a face in the crowd.
You know what would be good once in a while? A damned phone call to tell me how the hell y'er doin'. Have you forgotten how to use a phone?
Dean looked down at the ground, trying to hide the smirk on his face. ”You know Sammy’s the technology buff, how come you ain’t chewing his ass over it? I’m here now anyway-and in one piece. How you doin’, old man?” Dean looked up at Bobby, glad that he’d survived long enough to see him.
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Things I have in my drafts that will be replied to tomorrow:
handmaidenofmoondoor
protectthehelpless
moriorinvictus—x
accensibilis
hatgunsandknowledge
theangelthatfellfromheaven
daughterwinchester
carnificexfractum
bulletsandbunkers
damnedxmoose
Jesus fucking christ. I just hoard everything..
Message me if I owe you and I'll go find it.
hatgunsandknowledge wandered in.
The sound of the front door of Merlotte's opening had Jessica glancing over her shoulder at who was coming in. It was a slow night and any sort of interaction other than the new girl she was training was a welcomed distraction. "Sit down. . . Whatever your name is." she muttered to the blonde before picking up a menu and smiling, crossing over to the patron, "Welcome to Merlotte's, my name is Jessica and I'll be your waitress tonight. Bar, booth, or table?"
"Say something an' I'll hit that smug grin of yours straight off your face, ya hear?" *pecks his cheek* it’s a kissing disease! Spread it by kissing the first ten people on your dash
"Wow Bobby, I honestly don’t know what to say." Whether Dean was mocking or not he really wasn’t sure.
