JUST GETTING STARTED

Juggling two grocery bags, Dean fumbled the front door open, then kicked it closed behind him.

"I'm home!" he sang out. "Sam, gimme me a hand!"

Silence inside the house, except for the soft tick tock of the grandfather clock in the living room.

"Sam?"

Still carrying the groceries, he followed the clock into the living room. The room was full of the evidence of Sam's day - television on, but muted, channel turned to a local news station; his laptop closed and deserted on top of the desk, a stack of graded student papers lying beside it; a basket full of folded laundry sitting on the floor next to the couch.

No little brother.

"Sammy?"

Very calmly, not upset at all (no, not at all) Dean went upstairs.

No Sam.

Laundry room.

Nope.

To the kitchen.

Again! No - freaking - Sam.

Not gritting his teeth, Dean crossed the kitchen to the back door and looked out into the yard.

Sam was lying fast asleep on a lawn chair, long legs sprawling, their little mystery-breed mutt, Teddie, conked out on his lap.

See? Told ya.

Idiot.

Shaking his head at himself, Dean dumped the groceries on the counter and started sorting through them.

A couple of nice big steaks. Monster potatoes for baking. Green peppers, onions and mushrooms for the shish kebobs.

Ah.

Beer.

Dean pulled a cold one out of the fridge, popped the top and took a long drink, then stuck the newly purchased twelve-pack into the fridge to chill.

He took another peek out back.

Yep, little brother was still sleeping.

Still breathing.

Safe.

Dean turned on the radio, changed the channel from Sam's alternative station to his own vastly superior hard rock and started prepping dinner, head bobbing rhythmically to the music as he worked.

Pound hell out of the steaks. Marinate. Stick in the fridge. Check.

Wash potatoes. Stab 'em. Wrap in foil and stick in the oven. Turn oven on. Check.

Wash and cut vegetables. Marinate. Stick 'em in the fridge, right next to the steak. Check, check.

As he was finishing up, the house phone rang and he picked it up after another short look out the back door.

"Paco's Pornos and Pizzas!" he sang out. "Grill Man speaking!"

"Hey, Grill Man." A bright smile shone through the line.

"Hey, Jody! How's it goin'?"

"Good. Is Sam there?"

"He fell asleep out back."

There was a short, pregnant silence on her end, then, "Are we still on for tonight?" Jody-speak for 'is my honey okay?'

"Yeah, we're good. Him and Teddie just conked out waiting for me to get home."

"Okay. I'll be there about eight."

Dean heard the slam of Jody's truck door and the engine starting up.

"Just have to stop at home, pick up a couple things."

"Hope you're hungry. Picked up some monster steaks."

"Are you kidding? I'm starving! I've been thinking about this all day!"

Dean preened. "Well, I am the Grill Man."

"Yes, you are." (a chuckle) "Karen's coming?"

"Yep."

"Good - oh, crap! You jackass!"

"Jody?"

"I can't believe this! That drunken idiot Hubie Marston just ran a red light, right the hell in front of me!"

Dean heard her siren wail to life.

"Gotta go catch a jackass, babe. See you soon."

Dean snorted with laughter, picturing Hubie's face when he realized what he'd done.

"Give him hell, Jody!"

OOOOOOOOOO

Dropping the phone back onto the cradle, Dean grabbed the bag of briquettes out of the garage and went out into the backyard to start the fire. He tried to be quiet - had to be a reason the kid was sleeping this late in the day - but at the first rattle of charcoal onto the grill, he heard Sam stir awake on the chaise behind him.

"Hey." Dean threw an assessing look at his brother, then shook lighter fluid liberally over the charcoal, threw a match on top and stepped back, grinning with satisfaction when it flared up with a whoosh.

"Hey," Sam mumbled, dark eyes full of sleep. "Love that, don't you?"

"I do." Dean sat down on the chair next to Sam's and watched the flames with a happy sigh. "I really do."

Sam yawned. "Freaking pyro."

"Bite me."

Teddie stirred awake. Yawning widely, she crawled up Sam's torso, doggy tongue going straight for her master's mouth.

Sam made a face. "Eeeww, Teddie, cut it out." Evading the little dog's tongue with the ease of long practice, he gave her a rough body rub.

Satisfied, the animal settled down again on Sam's lap and cocked an expectant eye at the grill.

"Huh." Dean focused a hard look on the little dog. "I hope you fed the little thief, Sam, 'cause she's not getting any s-t-e-a-k."

Sam gave the dog a pat. "Don't bother spelling, Dean. Teddie knows what the grill is for."

Scowling, Dean pointed a warning finger at her. "I find you anywhere near this grill, you freaking little bandit, you're gonna be breathing through your ass!"

Teddie's lip curled back– an expression she reserved solely for Dean - and sneezed.

Sam decided that a little distraction was in order. "I finished sanding the floor in the second bedroom today. Gonna start varnishing after the weekend."

"That's great." Dean's eyes narrowed as his brother's jaw stretched wide in yet another yawn. "Overdid a little today, huh?"

"Nah, I'm okay. Just a little sleepy. Hey, I picked up a pie, too. Cherry."

"Whipped cream?" Dean said hopefully.

Distraction successful. Sam's eyes drifted halfway shut again. "And ice cream."

Dean did a little happy dance still sitting in his chair.

"Such a kid," Sam murmured.

Big brother alarm sounding, Dean put an exploratory hand on Sam's forehead. "Sure you're okay? You feel a little warm."

"Dude. Grill. Fire." Sam slid down on the chair. "I just need a little more shut-eye. Don't fuss." Teddie lay back down on his lap with a last longing look at the grill.

Dean hesitated. "Jody called, said she'd be here about eight. You want me to push it back?"

"No. Just give me another hour or so." Sam kept his eyes open long enough to give his brother a reassuring smile, then eased back into sleep, his breathing soon soft, deep and regular.

Dean stared down at Sam for a long minute and then went into the house. In a minute he came back out with a blanket, which he gently placed over his sleeping brother. Teddie, sound asleep already, didn't stir.

Sam was right. Dean did fuss too much. He knew it, and most of the time kept a pretty decent handle on it. It was just - that last damned hunt, that last damned trip to the emergency room, with both of Sam's legs broken, a severe concussion and a deep gash in his stomach that had his brother close to bleeding out – it hadn't been easy coming back from that - for Sam or for Dean.

Add to that Sam's long and painful stay in the hospital, two operations to get his legs back in order and the long months of physical therapy to get him back up on his never-to-be-the-same-again legs – no one could blame Dean for being a little overprotective.

Dean shrugged. He did the best he could. It is what it is.

Deciding he might as well take advantage of Sam's unconscious state, he sat down in the chaise next to his brother, just for the pleasure and reassurance of watching him breathe.

When the coals were ready, Dean went back into the house. He gloated over the pie for a minute, managed (just) to talk himself out of having a piece before dinner, then turned the potatoes over in the oven, stuck the marinated vegetables on the waiting skewers and carried them outside along with the meat.

As he was arranging the meat on the grill, Sam woke up again with a series of muffled snorts, yawns and eye rubbings. "Hey."

"Hey, again." Dean watched as Sam clumsily swung his legs over the side of the chaise, dumping a disgruntled, half-asleep Teddie on the ground. "Need a hand?"

"No, I've got it." Pushing upwards with his hands to take some of the weight, Sam eased up, testing gingerly to make sure his knees would hold before he got up the rest of the way. "Little stiff, that's all. What time is it?"

Dean looked at his watch. "7:45."

"I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Okay. Hey, take the mutt with you."

Sam nodded and gave a short whistle. Teddie, casting wistful glances over her shoulder at the meat, followed him reluctantly inside.

Dean pulled a beer out of the cooler and settled in to monitor the steaks. It wasn't too long before he heard the sound of a vehicle pulling up in front of the house. He walked around the side to see Jody stepping out of her truck, a bottle of wine in one hand and an overnight bag in the other.

Smiling, he walked over and took the wine from her, giving her a fond kiss on the cheek. "Hey, you."

"Hey back." Jody gave him a quick hug. "Where's my sweetie, sweetie?"

Dean clutched the wine to his chest and gave her a wounded look. "That's all I get? 'Where's your brother?'"

"Don't I get credit for the sweetie?"

"Nah, you gotta hang with me for a few minutes. Come on out back. Steak's are on and Sam's upstairs taking a shower."

He led her to the back yard. After she was done oooing and aaahhing over the nicely pinking steaks, he handed her a beer from the cooler. "Dinner's in about an hour."

"Good. I'm starving." Dumping her bag onto the picnic table, Jody popped the beer open and took a long, grateful drink. "Man, that's good."

"Bad day?"

"I've had better," Jody admitted. She saw the curiosity in his face and gave him a crooked grin. "Nothing in your line. Besides, aren't you retired?"

"Not if it's in my neighborhood," Dean said flatly.

"Yeah, yeah. Don't worry, no big bad. Just some local asshole knocking his wife around." Jody saw Dean's eyes harden. "And no, I won't tell you who it is. I took care of it." She prodded him. "I mean it now. I'm handling it."

Dean nodded, a little reluctantly. "I hear you."

Jody drained the last of her beer. "I'm gonna go get handsy with my guy now."

"Ew." Dean winced. "TMI, woman."

Jody grinned at him mockingly. "TMI? You want to talk about the serenade you and Karen gave the whole neighborhood last weekend?"

Shuddering, Dean held his hands up in surrender. "No, no, I'm good. Go upstairs. Molest my brother."

"I'll be sure and tell Sam you gave us permission." With a little grin, Jody grabbed up her clothes and trotted inside.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Dean cast an anxious glance at his watch. T minus 15 minutes till dinner. Steaks were due to come off the grill any time now. Sam and Jody were still upstairs, getting "handsy", and Karen had yet to show. Teddie might be getting that steak after all.

"Mr. Winchester!"

Dean spun around at the stern voice. His eyes widened when he saw the gorgeous brunette standing at the top of the back steps.

Glossy black hair pulled into a knot at the back of her head, tight-fitting black suit, white blouse gaping open at the top, long legs encased in black tights and – Holy Christ, spiked heels!

"Mr. Winchester!"

Dean pulled his eyes up the mile-long legs, the slim hips and waist, lingered on her breasts, peeping out from beneath the white blouse, then finally moved up to the slanted dark eyes and luscious red lips.

Dean gulped. She was the hottest, sexiest woman he'd ever seen.

And she was scowling at him like he ranked just below dog poop and lawyers.

Dean coughed. "Uh – can I help you?"

She looked down her lovely nose at him and lifted her lip, looking now just a little bit like Teddie. "I have a problem, Mr. Winchester."

He tried a smile. "What problem?"

The smile got him nowhere. Her eyes were glacial.

"You, Mr. Winchester. You are my problem." She stalked slowly down the steps, opening her jacket, button by button, as she descended.

She paused at the bottom of the steps and slipped the pins out of her hair, shaking it loose. It fell past her shoulders, a dark cloud, shimmering black satin.

Dean licked his lips. He could feel it in his hands, imagined running his fingers through the dark waves, burying his face in them . . .

"Mr. Winchester, are you listening to me?" she snapped.

"Uh . . ."

"Mr. Winchester!"

Dean's mouth was hanging open slightly. "What was the question?"

Her bosom heaved wrathfully. Dean's heart – and points south - gave a throb.

"Really, Mr. Winchester," she said severely, "You must pay attention! This kind of behavior is exactly how you got into this kind of trouble in the first place!"

"What kind of trouble?" he asked, confused, bemused and completely distracted.

She stomped her foot and her breasts jiggled underneath the white blouse. "Mr. Winchester! You have an overdue library book!"

That was it.

Growling, Dean crossed the grass between them in one second flat and grabbed her around the waist, pulling her roughly against him.

She gave a little squeak of surprise and tried to push him away. "Mr. Winchester! Let me go!"

Instead, he dove in and kissed hell out of her, ignoring her not very convincing attempts to escape. After a minute, with a soft moan, she gave in and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Dean . . . "

"Karen . . ."

"Dean!" Sam shouted.

Dean turned his head and glared at Sam, who stood at the back door with his arm around an wildly laughing Jody. "What's your freaking problem, man?"

Sam gave him Bitch Face #43. "Dean, the grill!"

Deserting his luscious lady, Dean spun around to see Teddie balancing precariously on the edge of the picnic table next to the grill, her nose just above one of the steaks.

"Hey, rat!" Dean swooped down on the little dog and plucked her away from the meat, drawing a startled bark of protest.

"Teddie!" Jody whistled for the little dog. "Come!"

Teddie wriggled free from Dean's hands and leaped to the ground. With a sharp yap, she ran inside the house and the door was shut firmly after her, Sam fastening the dog door as well.

"Sorry, Dean," Sam apologized, ushering Jody down the steps and over to the picnic table. "Didn't realize she'd come downstairs."

Dean scowled and turned back to Karen, who had kicked off her heels and thrown her jacket onto one of the chairs. "Sorry, baby."

"No problem. Good to know you have your priorities straight." Karen reached up under her skirt and pulled off her stockings, tossing them after the jacket. "Food before nookie. I'll have to remember that next time we play Naughty Librarian."

Dean laid a hand over his heart. "Nothing comes before Naughty Librarian, Kare," he said solemnly. "Nothing."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Dinner was eaten, along with an indecent amount of pie and ice cream. The five of them were relaxing in the living room, running out the last minutes of a relaxing evening, something the two Winchesters had come to cherish.

Sam and Jody were lounging on the couch, with an extremely overfed Teddie lying between them, Dean and Karen entangled on the Lazyboy.

"You two want to come along this weekend, Sammy?" Dean said lazily. "Be the last chance to camp out before the weather turns."

Karen smacked him on the top of the head. "Dean!"

"Ow!" Dean looked at her reproachfully. "What the hell's that for? I just thought it would be fun, the four of us getting away for a couple days."

"Little help here!" Karen appealed to Jody.

"No, thanks, Dean," Jody said immediately. "We'll be staying home. Thank you so much!"

"How come, Jody?" Sam asked, puzzled.

"We're staying home and having hot monkey sex all weekend, big guy," Jody answered matter-of-factly, patting his thigh.

"Oh, okay." Sam looked at Dean. "No thanks, Dean. We'll be staying home."

"Why can't we stay home and have hot monkey sex, Kare?" Dean whined.

"You and I will be having hot monkey sex in a pup tent," Karen answered reassuringly. "With a campfire and beer and s'mores and cheeseburgers and a really good air mattress. And pie."

"I totally don't deserve you." Dean hugged Karen, hard. "Can the Naughty Librarian come?" he whispered. "Please?"

Karen giggled and attached her mouth to his.

After a minute, Sam said in a low aside to Jody, "Let's go before we see something I can't scrub out of my brain."

"You've got my vote." Jody sighed resignedly. "Wish we had earplugs, though." She gathered up a comatose Teddie and the three started upstairs. At the foot of the stairs, Sam turned back. "Wait. Karen, did Dean tell you my news?"

Karen pulled away from Dean, just a teensy bit dazed. "What? What news?"

Dean smiled proudly at his brother. "Sam's done so well with his therapy, Doc says they don't need to do that last operation."

Karen froze just the tiniest bit, shot a quick look at Jody, then quickly recovered. "That's great, Sam. I'm so glad," she said feebly. Trying to get past the awkward moment, Karen said, "Will, um, will you be taking on a full-time position at the university now, do you think?"

"They've offered, but I think I'm going to stay part-time for now. Maybe next year."

"There's no rush," Jody said.

"No, no rush." Sam smiled down at her and she grinned back, waggling her eyebrows teasingly.

"Oh." Biting her lip, Karen rested her dark head on Dean's chest.

"Kare," Dean said quietly.

She didn't look up. Dean put a finger underneath her chin and raised her face to his. "We're not going anywhere."

"I thought – " Karen searched his face and saw the truth there. She laid her head back against him, trembling a little. "I'm an idiot," she said in a muffled voice.

The room was quiet.

"When we first settled here, saying I stopping hunting for Sam was just a story I told myself so I wouldn't feel guilty," Dean said at last. "Took a while for me to figure it out, but – " He met his brother's serene gaze. "I'm happy. Sam's happy. For the first time in, I don't know, ever. We're not giving that up."

"Good." Karen sighed happily and snuggled in against him. "Then I won't have to stow away in the Impala's trunk."

Jody laughed. "No worries, Karen. If these two ever even think of getting back into that bullshit, I'll lock both their asses up." She nudged Sam. "Handcuffs. You'd like that, wouldn't you?"

Sam nuzzled her neck and growled.

At the sound, Teddie woke up and gave a little yap, interrupted by a huge yawn.

"Okay, okay," Sam said, taking the dog from Jody and kissing it on the end of its black button nose. "Bed."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"You ready to head upstairs?" Karen whispered a little later, nibbling gently on Dean's ear.

"In a minute," Dean mumbled, mouthing her neck.

Karen purred with satisfaction. "I bought you a surprise today. From that little adult shop."

"Another teddie?" Dean's eyes darkened.

"Something better than a teddie." She gave him a slow, seductive smile. "A lot better."

"Oh, man." Dean kissed her hungrily. "Next time I'm lettin' the freaking steaks burn, Kare, I swear to God."

She laughed and wriggled out of the chair, pulling him up with her. "Come on."

"I've got to lock up."

"Better hurry." Her lips curved in a quirky grin. "Or I might start without you."

Groaning, Dean reached out for her. Laughing, she twisted quickly away and ran lightly up the stairs.

Stretching his arms up over his head, Dean cracked his spine and then started his nightly ritual. Like most rituals, it wasn't strictly necessary, but, he supposed, old habits and all that crap. And he found it comforting.

Besides, retired didn't mean stupid. The Winchesters not hunting didn't mean evil shit wasn't still out there.

So, salt at the doors and windows? Still status quo. Only difference was they didn't need to put them up fresh every day. Sam had figured out a way to keep them fixed permanently. Rock salt under glass tubing, embedded under the floor at each door and across every window sill in the house.

Dean made a careful sweep of the house and checked all the windows and doors, including Teddie's dog door.

All clear.

The downstairs dark and quiet, Dean paused at the foot of the stairs. He could hear Sam's deep voice coming from his room, Jody's laughter a soft counterpoint beneath it. The sound of soft music coming from his room. His room. Karen there, waiting for him.

Shaking his head, Dean smiled into the darkness.

Happy.

Happy, in Small Town, USA with Sam. Happy, working at the gunshop.

Happy with Karen.

Happy.

What he'd told Karen had been true. The Winchesters were done with hunting. Done.

They would protect their own. Their family. Their town. But neither of them felt driven to seek out evil for its own sake. And he was okay with that.

For the very first time in his life, Dean Winchester felt at peace.

Smiling, he ran up the stairs.

END

OOOOOOOOOO

This story is dedicated to my little love, Teddie, who passed on Thursday morning. Teddie was an apricot Lhasa poo, just two years old, and the heart of my life. Good-bye for now, dear one.

OOOOOOOOOO

Who gets the Hubie Marston reference?