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Over in the training field, there's important experimentation going on. An old archery target has been set up, and some paces away is a long white and red stick on top of a tripod.

From the top of this stick,a couple of wires loop out and attach to a roughly made glove on the left hand of a blonde woman with a blindfold loosely tied around her eyes as she lines up a homemade bow towards the target and shoots.

In succession, she shoots three arrows near and around the bullseye, approaches with confidence, checks the location, and returns.

It all takes a lot of concentration. Distractions might put her off her stroke.

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"Smart move."

Dean wanders over, wiping grease off his hands with a filthy rag. "You gotta be Leah, right?"

"That's me," Leah says brightly, lifting a hand to show the palm in the direction of the new voice. "Guess the blindfold's a rubbish disguise, huh?"

Sam blinks and then grins, flattered that she trusts him.

Also, grinning when his brother appears. "Leah, this's my brother, Dean," he says - and quickly puts a hand lightly on Leah's wrist to guide her hand back down. "And he's working on his car, so don't touch his hands."

Dean grins his most winning grin.

It is a bit of a lost cause, but that's Dean for you.

"Pleasure to meet you. Sam hasn't told me nearly enough about you."

Leah's surprised enough Sam's told him enough so that Dean knows her name. But then, if he feltthe need to come back to the farm for her, she guesses there must've been explanations.

"Can't say the same about you. This wouldn't be the car, would it?"

Sam is arching a brow at his brother because unless he wants the winning grin to work on Sam, he's wasting his time. The flirting just makes him roll his eyes.

Leah's response? Well...

Sam wouldn't laugh at his brother. That would be rude.

Dean shoots him a death glare. A Vry Srs one. He's totally not kind of amused either.

"That'd be her, yeah. Sam's talked about her?"

Oh right, boys. Like facial expressions don't influence tone of voice at all.

She gives a wide smile.

"Only in passing. Y'know, that you called her 'she'. That kinda thing."

Sam doesn't know that. Because Sam can be kind of innocently foolish about these things.

Also, busy laughing at his brother.

"Hey, what can I say, she is a beautiful car," Dean informs her, grinning again. "Sammy's just jealous."

"Chevy, right?" Leah recalls. "Classic line."

"Sammy has his own car now," Sam points out with an amused roll of his eyes, "that Deanny won't shut up about wanting to drive."

Then he falls silent with a sigh because listening to Leah and Dean wax poetic about the Impala will be a conversation he's heard before.

But it's such a good conversation. Dean loves it.

"Hey," Dean says, glaring at Sam. "Quit that."

No calling him Deanny. That's just wrong. JUST BECAUSE SAM HAPPENS TO BE BIGGER NOW D:

"I gotta say," Leah adds dutifully. "That Porsche is a sweet ride. One of the smoothest engines I've heard."

Sam is abruptly ten thousand times more smug now. His smirk practically reeks 'my car is cooler than yours and the pretty girl on my arm says so.'

"She's a beauty too," Dean agrees, and gives Sam a grin. "Kinda soulless, though. So clean.

"Suits Sammy down t'the ground."

"Y'gotta love it when people try to cover up for flaws by calling them 'soul'."

Leah already has Dean pinned down as someone who likes vinyl.

Sam coughs. He must be coming down with a cold.

"I'm more concerned about being a 'beauty,'" he points out, with an eyebrow arched at his brother.

"Ah, that bit? Not so much you, Sammy." Dean smirks back at him - before looking doubtfully at Leah.

What's wrong with vinyl? If it was at all logical to have a record player in the Imp, you better believe there'd be one.

Vinyl's noisy. Leah used to have long arguments with Bill about this. If she can't imagine she's standing right next to the guitars, she doesn't want to know.

But she can't exactly react to funny looks and eyebrows, so she shrugs.

"I'm not about to give an opinion on that," she points out.

Sam just rolls his eyes, smirking. "I was gonna take Leah to my car to pick up some stuff," he tells Dean. "Come on, you can be delivery boy, too."

Leah's hand on Sam's arm has relaxed slightly since Dean's arrival. Now it's less of a holding a friend's arm and more of a waiting to be lead places.

"And then you guys have a bit of research to be done, right?"

"Augh, don't tell me," Dean grumbles. "I hate research."

But he falls into step behind Sam and Leah happily enough.

"It's really the only reason why he's happy I'm here," Sam teases, grinning. He puts a hand over Leah's on his arm to help lead her, moving away from Dean's car and toward his.

That doubles his grin. He has a car. And Dean is here and Leah is okay and Jo doesn't hate him... as much.

"I hate it too," Leah says helpfully. "Not my fault it's all I can do these days. Point me to something I can do to pay you back for that rescue you pulled."