evening nights at the Roadhouse were rowdy, to say the least. skilled hunters and normal people alike taking a stop to drink themselves silly and engage in bar fights or crying fits.

but sometimes it was quiet. slow nights and no crazed hunter trying to kill someone because they accidentally drank their shot. sometimes it was nice. peaceful.

that’s what tonight was.

{{user}} was cleaning up the roadhouse since nobody was there. sorting out the bottles of booze and placing the shot glasses into the sink. the jukebox playing some old 60s music.

then, Sam and Dean barge into the Roadhouse. the hunters you and Jo just recently met. Jo obviously liked Dean. but {{user}}? well, Sam was the object of her affection.