Long, Long Way From Home

Karen gave her Pepsi another aimless stir with her straw. She decided to check her watch, even though she knew it didn't function in the Dreamtime. The hands and numbers on the watch face had been replaced by a profile picture of Patrick Stewart. On the side of his head was a smiley face that had been drawn long ago with a black Magic Marker. Patrick turned to look at Karen.

"She'll be here" he assured.

"I know" Karen replied with no surprise. Anything could and did happen in the Dreamtime Bar 'N Grill. She was just waiting for Angie to happen.

"Sugar" a quiet Southern voice said. "You've stirred the fizz right outta that soda. Let me get you another one."

Karen sighed. "Where is she, Flo? I thought she would have been here before I got here."

Flo placed a warm restraining hand over Karen's still stirring one. "Honey, it's been a long time. A lot has happened to her in the Real World. She's havin' a hard time remembering how to get back here."

"Wish I could send her a map."

Flo smiled. "Well, I dunno about a map. But I might be able to send her some directions---"

**************************************************

Angie sat on the couch, folding laundry. She was semi-watching a repeat of "Supernatural" on TNT and trying to decide what to fix for dinner that evening, as well.

"A roast would be good" she told the shirt she was folding.

"Well, yeah" Dean Winchester agreed on the screen. "But wouldn't cheesecake and a cuppa mud be better?"

Angie blinked at the TV. She was fairly certain this episode didn't contain any dialogue about coffee or cheesecake.

Dean leaned against the fender of the Impala, folded his arms and grinned at Angie. "No, you're not crazy" he said. "Believe me, I know crazy, and it ain't you."

"Are you...talking to me?"

Dean laughed. "What is this, 'Taxi Driver'? 'Course I'm talkin' to you. The things I gotta do to get somebody's attention these days."

"What my insensitive brother means" said Sam Winchester--Dean's not-so-little brother--as he walked into frame, "is that someone's looking for you. She thought this might be a good way to get your attention."

"Insensitive? Me?! I'll show you insensitive. You're not so big that I can't still beat your insensitive ass!"

Sam grimaced. "Dean, that didn't even make sense. And we aren't here for us, anyway." Sam stepped forward to address Angie. "We're here to show you the way home." He stepped to one side, pulling Dean along with him, to reveal what was behind them.

Angie felt the sting of tears at the sight of her old familiar hangout. The Dreamtime Bar 'N Grill was still there, looking just as it had the last time she'd seen it.

"I thought...I thought it was gone." Angie wiped at her eyes with the shirt she'd been folding.

Sam shook his head. "Not gone. Waiting.”

"Yeah" Dean put in. "Some people came in while you were gone and tried to douche it up with some 'Twilight' and some 'Harry Potter' crap, but management took care of that pretty quick."

"Some people actually like that 'crap', you know" Sam warned.

"Yeah, well. Some people like crappy TV shows about two hot guys drivin' around in a muscle car and killin' evil shit, too." Dean winked at Angie. "No accounting for taste, I guess."

"Anyway" Sam continued, edging Dean offscreen, "someone's waiting for you. You ready to go?"

Angie felt her heart leap at the thought of seeing her friend again. Then she looked at the unfolded clothes and thought of the unmade dinner. "I can't" she said at length. "I have too much to do--"

"--in the Real World" Sam finished. "Angie, this is the Dreamtime."

Dean leaned back into the frame. "Dude. Seriously?" he asked Angie. "You're talkin' to two guys on the TV and they're talkin' back, and you don't know you're dreaming?" His tone was not unkind, simply puzzled.

"My god" Angie said, looking at the laundry and the carpet that needed sweeping. "Have my dreams become this mundane?"

"Not anymore, darlin' " Dean drawled. "Here. Catch!"

He tossed something to Angie, which she barely caught. It was a set of car keys. 1967 Impala car keys. She smiled at Dean.

"You're letting me drive the Impala?"

Dean cleared his throat. "Um, yeah. Figured she could get you there quicker than anything else."

Angie jumped up from the couch and ran to the window. Outside, in the driveway, sat the sleek black vehicle. She couldn't wait to show it to Karen.

"Don't hurt my baby" Dean said.

"Wouldn't dream of it" Angie replied. "Thanks, guys. Oh, and if you're in the neighborhood of the bar 'n grill, stop by for a cold one or two."

"Absolutely" Sam said. "Well, it's time for us and you to get going." Sam picked a backpack up from the road. "See ya later, Ange."

"Yeah" Dean groused, picking up his own pack. "See ya."

Angie heard Dean complaining to Sam about their lack of wheels as they walked away. Then, forgetting about the brothers, she looked down at her clothes. "Sweats? That'll never do."

She ran outside, dressed in a Judas Priest t shirt and jeans, and opened the Impala door. Angie slid behind the wheel, briefly drumming her fingers on it before starting the car. The engine roared to life and Angie sighed. "Oh, you sweet, sweet baby" she cooed. She backed out of the driveway and sped down the road. Angie turned on the radio, and then began to laugh as she heard Foreigner singing--

"--Waiting, hours of waiting

I could feel the tension

I was longing for home

I'm looking out for the two of us

And I hope we'll be here when they're through with us

I'm coming home…"