Prologue
Bobby Singer, the only man I've ever known as a true father figure in my entire life. He was the one who had gotten me into hunting in the first place- well after I turned thirteen. He sent me out on my first solo hunt when I turned sixteen, and now being twenty-five I've gotten to the phase where I barely needed him, but I always found myself driving back to his house.
Pulling into the long, loose gravel driveway, I furrowed my brows as I pulled up alongside a 1967 Chevy Impala. Pinching my rouge colored lips together, I shifted into park and climbed out deciding to leave my duffel bag in the trunk, but keeping my .45 Caliber on my hip.
"Bobby?" I called out, as I slowly opened the front door not really knowing what, or who to expect as shut the front door, three figures appeared in front of me. Right away, I went and wrapped my arms tightly around Bobby's neck, his beard lightly scratching my cheek as chuckle left him as he did the same.
"Been a long time since I've seen you, sweetheart. How were the werewolves in Maine?" He grinned, as I reflected one back only to scoff and laugh.
"Please, you know, I could easily take a werewolf with my hand tied behind my back." After the small laugh, I finally turned towards the two boys that stood there, somewhat awkwardly. I sent a soft smile, until- it quickly faded as my dark grey eyes met his bright, neon ones.
"Quinn, I want you to meet Sam and-"
"Dean Winchester... Yeah, I've- uh, I've met Dean before." I flicked my tongue out, wetting my lips as the living room suddenly filled with tension- more on Bobby's side, while Sam's was more confusion. I could tell Bobby was already assuming the worse.
"Dean. Kitchen. Now." Bobby growled, gripping the young man by his forearm and practically dragging him away while he tried to fight off the old man, along with cursing his name to the heavens' as I stifled a giggle while turning back towards Sam.
"So, you're the infamous Sam Winchester, huh?" I grinned, trying to show that I was at least a little harmless. The tall man grinned back, as he stuck out his large hand- I immediately took hold and shook it.
"Sadly, and you're Quinn Ross, right?" I shot up a brow, as we released each other's hands. I felt my lips turn into a smirk, but it quickly vanished as I furrowed my brows.
"Oh, so you're a stalker- that's great." I scoffed slightly, pushing back a long, loose strand of chestnut hair as I glanced up at him to see his face sudden flash beat red when he began to stammer.
"What! No, no, no- I.. I just meant that Bobby," He started, only for me to cut him off.
"That Bobby talks about me a lot because he considers me his daughter? Yea, trust me, you're not the first- nor will you probably be the last hunter who will not be told my name by that man." I laughed, as he blushed another shade of red before joining in on the small fit of laughter- that's until we were rejoined by a snarling Bobby and a somewhat disappointed looking Dean.
"So, you give him some sort of talk, Bobby?" I giggled, trying to keep the mood light. Bobby shot a side-glance to the boy, shook his head then turned his attention back towards me.
"I'm surprised I didn't have to honestly, but just know- I'm proud of you, Quinn." He smiled, as Dean mumbled something under his breath. I merely laughed and shook my head before smirking towards Dean.
"Trust me, it wasn't that hard to resist." This caught Dean's attention, as his head slightly perked up and a glare settled in his eyes.
If only I knew what was going on inside that stupid, yet adorable mind of his... I sent him a soft, innocent smile while turning my attention back towards Bobby as we all began to walk towards the kitchen- the air slightly heavy, but I already knew one thing...
That I had this boy wrapped around my pretty little finger, and he needs a challenge- so let's give it to him.
