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Metropolis stinks.

Rachel's a bitch.

Jo's still doing her own thing. Jo's always doing her own thing. Dean shouldn't mind that so much.

He misses Sam.

However, there's always good food on the Cooper farm. So guess where Dean and the Impala are headed?

Wouldn't hurt to check up on that kid with the interest in demons, either.

(He left a message with the usual hunter's channels -- still in existence, even here where they don't use the term 'hunters' -- for Jo. Figures she'll tell Rach, the two of them so freakin' buddy-buddy.)

So -- eventually, somewhere between Metropolis and the Cooper farm's entrance gate -- there's a 67 Impala growling its way along the dirty roads, belting out Metallica.

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Sokka laughs and continues working without ever looking up from it. "Yeah, of course, how d'you fix something if you don't know how to drive it first? Steph keeps telling me there's nothing wrong with this," he taps the seat with a wrench, "but I know it's not supposed to make that cracking noise when she revs it up."

"Why's she think it's fine then?" Dean shakes his head. "Girls are kinda crazy. Wait ... your girlfriend's Steph?"

He hasn't met her, but he's heard her.

"Well, because it feels like it's running fine while she's on it," Sokka explains, rolling his eyes. "She's not really mad at me for working on it, she just likes giving me a hard time."

As for the rest of it, Dean certainly has Sokka's attention again, looking at the older man with wide eyes. "Yeah. You know her?"

"She had a ... run-in ... with Rach while we were travellin' t'gether. Somethin' about killing zombies."

Sokka frowns.

And blinks.

"Oh."

And winces, a little bit.

"Yeeeeah, I heard about that. Um... you still think she'll want to come help?"

Dean wrinkles his nose.

"... how close are you'n'her? I mean, if she stays right the hell outta the way, Rach ... might be convinced?"

"How close are me and Steph?"

Sokka stares for a few seconds before wincing again.

"Well, maybe I can try to talk to her first. So long as Rachel doesn't try to kill anybody else and I can keep them from talking to each other..."

Dean winces with him.

"Damn it, girls."

And then frowns.

"Rach isn't crazy. She just doesn't hesitate if she knows what needs doing. She's not gonna kill anyone."

Sokka frowns and rubs at the back of his neck with one hand, poking at the dirt with the other.

"...for what it's worth, I don't have a problem with having her help out," he says after a moment. "I'll talk to Steph, but I don't know how much she'll want to talk back. She's kinda... touchy on that."

Dean smirks, faintly wry. "I'll tell Rach what's up, but if she doesn't come, she doesn't come."

Nodding, Sokka's smile is a little strained. "Yea, I... that don't-kill thing, it runs really deep with Steph."

"Sounded like it." Dean tries not to sound amused. "And Rach ... she's not the most understanding of people."

Sokka grins a little, shrugs, and echoes Dean:

"Damn girls."

"We'll sort it out." Dean sighs, and smirks a little. "Nobody needs a screamin' match to greet your sister if we get her back."

"She'll be dealing out enough of those as soon as she gets back," Sokka replies with another wince, shaking his head as he turns back to the bike. "Nobody else needs to help her."

Another person might ask "So why do you want her back?"

Dean doesn't need to.

"I'll pick up some earmuffs when I head back t'get th'girls." He offers a rag.

"Not a bad plan."

Sokka takes the rag to clean his hands - and triumphantly flicks a large bit of gravel out of the inner workings of the motorcycle, beaming.

"I knew it!" Dean beams. "Nice work."

Sokka just laughs.

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