[h3] Dean [/h3]

Dean finished removing the bolts, and he disconnected the crankshaft rods, pulling them to the side before he pulled the piston that seemed the worst. With an quiet ‘AHA’, he laid it against the towel he had placed over the front of the car. As he did, he shrugged off Lexi’s comments about him being simple, but he chuckled at her comment about a bald Sam, the mental image flashing through his own mind briefly. 

“You’re welcome for that.” He chuckled a bit louder. “I think she could be either really good for him, or a really good distraction that he does…kinda need right now. He’s been through a lot over the past year, and he has a bit of a bad spot in the back of his brain that keeps…itching for him to feel guilty about everything under the sun.”

Dean failed to mention the angel that had taken Sam for a ride for a while. He was nowhere near ready to talk about that. It was one of his biggest regrets and almost losing Sam in the process would probably haunt him forever. Lexi knocked him out of his internal thoughts as she stepped over to him, watching him work as he removed the piston ring that was completely obliterated and wiped the piston down, before toying around in Bobby’s old toolbox for one that fit at least a similar car to her own.

“Well, it’s actually a simple fix for anyone with the tools to fix it and either a manual or a general knowledge of engine blocks.”, he explained, holding the piston up in front of him as he stood up straight. He attached the new piston ring, and then reached back under the hood, dropping the piston back into place. “When that ring is all jacked up, it lets oil leak onto all the parts around the engine block. The pistons create fire, and that’s what drives the car forward…kinda. That’s why you need gas. So, fire…plus oil…and you got smoke. The rattling was probably caused by this crank shaft bolt right here.”

He reached across and tapped the top of the crankshaft, “It was loose. So, sounds a lot worse than it is. Once I put that back on, and tighten that bolt, you can take it out on the road and burn off the rest of that oil. It’ll smell like crap and it’ll smoke a bit at first…but she’ll be purring after that.”

Dean leaned over the car and began to reassemble everything he had taken apart, while he got used to the idea of being watched in the garage. Not that he minded Lexi’s eyes on him, but it was still new.

“And if you want, because I’m almost positive they didn’t, I’ll change your oil for you too, while I’ve got it in the garage. Something tells me you have a thing for men with a little grease on them.” He finished his sentence, tilting his body just enough to smile brightly back at her.

[h3] Anya [/h3] 

Anya was so happy to see Sam smile at her plans, and it told her that in some small way, he was having fun. Either it was because she was so happy, and he was having fun watching her or he was just relieved to be out of the bunker. She practically danced when Sam said that he was willing to go for a carriage ride. If anything, it was a simple snuggle moment under a blanket, letting someone pull them around the large fair ground. No effort. No showmanship. Just a carriage, covered in lights, carting them around. It was a bit of a neutral holiday olive branch to Sam. 

She didn’t tug Sam as hard this time, linking her fingers with his as she walked across the small road, to one of the brightly lit horse drawn carriages. The handler didn’t step down, only gestured for them both to get in. Anya climbed up carefully, not using the rails as she daintily tiptoed her way to the other side of the carriage and sat on the bench, pulling the lap blanket back to let Sam get underneath with her.

Once he was settled, she made sure his legs were covered, almost feeling bad that he was folded up a bit in the tight space. But she leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder and took a drink. The handler glanced back at her.

“You guys good?”

Anya simply held up a thumbs up and wrapped her arms around Sam’s, getting comfortable. She reached forward, placing her cup in the wire cupholder on the back of the handler’s seat and then pulled her phone into her lap, typing with one hand. 

“I can tell that you hate things like this and so I wanted to tell you thanks for coming with me, while we’re still and stuff. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than with you, during all this mess. So, thanks for letting me stay. And thanks for coming with me.” 

She didn’t press play. She simply held the phone out to him so that he could read the message and left her soft smile on her face.