No Arguement There

“Dean,” I called out, listening with one earplug in to Rascal Flatts, since he wouldn’t allow me to listen to country music in his car. “I want an ice cream if you go in there.”

“After that last comment, you don’t get anything,” he snapped before he stomped away, Sam waited to shrug at me sympathetically. The younger and more sensible brother always said I was too much like Dean for us to get along civilly; poor guy was always stuck in the middle. His older brother who he loved and respected from birth was on one side, his fiancé that he loved and respected because he had too (or else I’d kick his ass) on the other. He was screwed way before our first date; at least that’s what I constantly told him, to his dismay.

“Boo, you whore,” I dryly called out before I put the other earplug in to drown him out, I sung along to the songs for a good five minute until Sam came running out of the café, Dean on his heels. “You totally forgot my ice cream, didn’t you?”

“Dean,” Sam called out simply. “Why don’t you explain to Keran why you forgot her ice cream…?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it,” Dean moved in his seat uncomfortably, I couldn’t help but rip my earplug from my ear and lean forward between the seats.

“Dean started flirting with a chick that was eating breakfast, she choked on a sausage,” Sam began to explain dramatically just for effect and because he knew it would make Dean annoyed. “While Dean tried to unblock her airway, this choking lady’s husband came out of the bathroom. She repaid him with a big smooch, in front of her husband.”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it, Sam,” Dean gave Sam a look that would scare an ordinary person; Sam just smiled and opened his mouth to keep going.

“Dean was almost killed by the husband, who by the way, was a pro wrestler called Death wish,” Sam turned to smile at me; he found just as much amusement in Dean’s situations as I did. Only he could make such an ordinary predicament into frenzy. “We were chased from the café, the husband found the shotgun behind the counter that the chef used for robberies, I’m pretty sure the cops are on their way.”

“I miss everything!” I exclaimed unhappily, I grunted and sat back, staring at the rear view mirror that showed Dean’s un-amused face. “You suck; I hate you for making me stay in this stupid damn car.”

“Don’t talk about my baby like that,” he told me in a warning voice, seconds before he reached up to stroke the manifold of the car, I almost forced a gag but that wouldn’t have ended pretty.

“Keran, honey your eight months pregnant,” Sam tried to reason with me, I hated to admit it but he was right, I just didn’t like it at all. “You can’t go in places that are dangerous and besides that you’re supposed to rest.”

“Who, besides that moron could make a café dangerous?” I asked dramatically, Dean glanced in the mirror and narrowed his eyes at me. “I mean really, what’s the worse that could happen in an ordinary day, oh my God the hot chocolate scalded my tongue, call the ghost busters, my marshmallows are haunted!”

“If she calls us the ghost busters one more time, Sammy, I swear—“Dean began to threaten but Sam shut him up with a glare, I giggled. Making Dean mad was easy and entertaining for a bed (or rather car) ridden pregnant woman like myself. He, however, did not find it as funny as I did, which in turn made it even funnier, by principle.

“Keran,” Sam glanced in the backseat and frowned, I only shrugged. “Now just stop it, why don’t you put your music back on and wait until we get to the hotel.”

“Okay, I give,” I frowned and slipped my music back on, ignoring Sam and Dean as they argued. Dean never did agree with Sam bringing me along, even though I was an asset to the brothers. I didn’t like to brag but with my abilities to feeling and sensing the paranormal, along with visions, I was a perfect addition to their group. However, Dean didn’t believe me, even when I was right about him walking into a trap or when Sam was in trouble. He got over it though when Sam asked me out, when we got engaged and when we announced we were expecting, or at least I think he got over it, for the most part.

“Keran,” Dean’s annoyed voice interrupted my relaxation into the deep tones of the singer of the amazing Finnish Band, HIM. I opened my eyes and frowned at him before pulling an earplug out to be polite.

“Yes, Dean?” I asked properly and almost sarcastically as I stuffed my IPod into my purse that lay on my side.

“I’m supposed to help you out, Sam’s at the front desk,” Dean almost seemed reluctant as he spoke. He almost sounded like a lot of things, annoying was one of them. “So, come on, it’s starting to rain.”

“Fun,” I grumbled handing him my purse, he grimaced but kept quiet as I slipped my shoes on and tried to stand without causing too much trouble. I tried to shift my weight so I could duck and exit the car but I only succeeded in loosing my balance and started to topple over. Thankfully Dean caught me with both arms. “Son of a bitch!”