A/N And so my married daughter says, "Hey, Mom, why don't we do Christmas Eve at my house this year, and we'll drive up the next day to your house for Christmas dinner? "

"Sure," I reply.

"And, will you make and bring your great pizza?"

Sigh.

And so… lest I leave those in LA breathlessly waiting, here's a little one. Off to slice more sausage…


Chapter 6

"Hey, Pops."

Dean could hear the sigh coming through the phone, and grinned. Ruffling this guy's feathers had become a hobby. Who else could Dean phone when he was on duty in a quiet place, bored, and knew that no matter what time of day or night he called, he'd be up and ready to answer his phone?

Dean's grin widened, waiting for it…

"I have yet to give permission for you to use that crass, American 1950's-era term with me. In fact, if I remember correctly , and you know I do, I specifically told you not to refer to me in that manner. You will respect your elders."

Dean rolled his eyes. You see, no matter how old you were, eye rolling was still fun – especially when done over the phone so the other party couldn't see you.

"I assume you've taken employment again?" There was another dramatic sigh. "Why don't you simply come home?" There was a pause – dramatic, of course. "She's been asking for you again, and you can't deny how lovely her…"

"This is serious business," Dean interrupted. No matter how many times, or how long he'd tried, he still hadn't convinced this guy that he wasn't the center of the universe, and that cold, grey stone wasn't his idea of comforting decor.

Dean waited, phone held to his ear while he toed the dirt around his feet. It was a childish move but there were times the child came out, no matter how old you were.

And he continued to wait. The old guy had yet to learn telephone etiquette. He was probably glaring, assuming Dean could see it. As smart as they all said he was, Dean had, years ago. easily concluded the guy was a moron. Not that he'd utter that word out loud, of course. There were some bad-asses around him – although none quite as bad as himself. However, he hated to get his clothes dirty.

Finally, after at least 15 minutes of silence and probable glaring Dean decided to take action.

"Ciao, same time next week," he mumbled, and hit the end button. Before he put the phone away he sent a quick text to Bill, and waited. When his phone vibrated he smiled and slipped it back into his pocket. He should have the shipment by Fed Ex tomorrow, and not a moment too soon. That flask was getting too light, and there was no way he was going to go the way of the Cullens. Besides, he liked his eye color just the way it was.

Dean paused before turning back towards the Cullen mansion, checking the electronic display on the battery pack hidden inside his jacket pocket. 87% charge left – should last long enough, he thought, turning up the volume just a bit. They thought he was out checking the layout of the grounds, so it only made sense that they'd expect his heart to be beating a bit louder after a jaunt in the woods, right?


A/N Da da dum….