Christie shut the door of the Impala, and walked up the sidewalk.
"Hey," Dean called from the front seat. Christie paused, and looked back at him. "Don't get caught."
She nodded, and continued to the two story house. It was painted white, and had a black tile roof. There was a trellis, with ivy growing on it, that climbed right past a window.
Christie walked over to the trellis, and started to climb. She soon reached the window, which was open, and pulled herself inside. Her room was dark, but she could see her cot on the floor. Christie tip-toed over to the closet, and opened the door, slowly, because she knew it creaked when it was opened too fast.
She pulled some clothes off of their hangers, and was especially careful to grab her favorite shirt. She went over to the dresser, where her mother's- her real mother- necklace was. It had a silver chain, and a small silver clasp. Christie undid the clasp, and put the necklace on, comforted by the familiar feel of the charm on her chest.
"Hey kid, what's taking you so long?" She heard a whisper from the window. She turned, to see a silhouette of a head in the window.
"I'm almost done, Dean." Christie hissed, slinging her bag onto her shoulder. She walked over to the window, and Dean started to climb down. When he got to the bottom, Christie lifted one leg over the windowsill and got a foothold among the vines. She lifted her other leg over, and began to climb down.
Three quarters of the way down, Christie's foot slipped, and she fell towards the ground.
Dean caught her. "Careful," he hissed.
She slid out of his arms to her feet. She brushed her jeans off, and adjusted her bag.
They both walked back to the Impala silently. Chris opened the squealing back door, put her bag in, and slid into the seat, closing the door with a bang.
Dean turned the key, and the Impala purred to life. He eased the car from the curb, and drove down the road.
Sam and Dean were silent, so Christie lay her head against the window, and soon fell asleep.
She woke up to Sam shaking her shoulder. "Christie, wake up." He whispered. Christie sat up, squinting at Sam.
"Where....?" Christie asked sleepily.
"Riverdale Utah." Sam replied, "Dean's inside, getting us a room. Sleep well?"
Christie nodded slowly, still half asleep. Sam chuckled, "Come on, and you can go back to sleep when we get inside."
Christie sighed, and slid out of the Impala. She and Sam walked inside, where Dean was leaned against the front desk, flirting with the girl behind it. Christie would have been annoyed if she was fully awake, but she was too tired to care. Dean turned around, and the trio walked down the hall to the room. Dean opened the door, and they walked inside. Christie trudged over to one of the beds, and was about to lay down, when Dean said, "Just what do you think you're doing?"
"Hmm?" Christie turned, looking at him confused.
"You get the couch." Dean replied.
"Dean-" Sam started. Dean waved him off.
"Age before beauty." Dean said, slipping off his shoes.
Christie rolled her eyes, and yanked the comforter off the bed. She trudged over to the couch, and flopped onto it. She rolled over, tugging the blanket with her, successfully making a cocoon around herself. She quickly fell back asleep.
Dean chuckled and walked over to the bed. He lay down with a sigh.
"Dean." Sam said. Dean turned his head towards Sam.
"You are never going to get along with her if you treat her like that." Sam told him.
"And?" Dean asked.
"And? Dean, don't you want your daughter to love you?" Sam continued, looking at Dean expectantly. Dean was silent, "I mean, I don't know about you, but I'm excited to have a niece that I don't have to shoot." Sam joked, referring to the incident with the Amazons.
"Sammy.....can we please talk about this another time?"
Sam sighed, "Fine, Dean." And he slipped into his own bed.
IT WAS THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT
TELLING ME WHAT YOUR HEART MEANT
THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT
SHONE IN YOUR EYES
Christie sat up off the couch with a gasp.
"Rise and shine Christie!" Dean yelled, jamming to the song.
Christie pushed the covers off of herself, and grabbed her bag. She rummaged around in it for a minute, pulling out her favorite shirt, and some jeans.
"I'm gonna take a shower....unless it's age before beauty again." She shot a glare at Dean. Dean smirked. "Go ahead."
Christie walked out of the bathroom, feeling refreshed. She wore a flannel button up shirt that was plaid, and jeans, with her mother's necklace. She froze when she saw what Sam and Dean were wearing.
They both wore plaid.
All three of them were matching.
"I'm going to go change my shirt...." Christie said, turning back to the bathroom.
"No time," Sam said, "They just found another victim." He laced up his shoes.
"Really? Who?" Christie cocked her head to the side.
"Some guy named Charles Franklin." Dean answered.
"I didn't ask you." Christie snapped. Sam shot Dean a glance that said, 'I told you so.'
Dean shrugged, and stood up, shrugging on a jumper.
"So what are we doing, Sam?" Christie asked.
"We, meaning me and Dean, are going to talk to the recent victim's girlfriend, Dana Curl." Sam replied.
"And me?" Christie asked.
"You are going to wait in the car."