Lucky pushed her keys into the livingroom door and turned the key without so much as a thought to the obvious lights and sounds coming from inside. Two years of her clockwork routine had made "unlocking" the front door not even a second thought, no matter what time she arrived home or whether there was someone home or not. And of course, whenever she got home, no matter how late, Clearly was up and at 'em, whether it was a controller in her hands or her laptop open to some page on cryptids.

Which scenario would be the winner tonight?

She kicked open the door with a heavy boot. Neither of the people inside were so much as surprised.

"Aw, what the hell guys?", Lucky whined.

"You do it too often bro. It's a great gag, but great gags are only great every once in a while", Clearly replied, not peeling her eyes away from the screen of the Den's TV.

"That's what she said", Orin said in one quick breath.

He high-fived Clearly.

Lucky sulked over to the kitchen and laid her bag on the counter before opening the fridge and scanning the contents with a disinterested eye before landing on a particular box of pizza, a look of pure excitement with just a drop of derangement rising over her previously exhausted and annoyed face like a sunrise.

She grabbed the box and clutched it to her chest.

Clearly looked over at her and smiled, hitting pause on her controller.

"See? Do we love you or what?"

"You brought me a fuckin' Dewey's! When the hell were you in Ohio?", Lucky said with a grin.

"Had a false alarm in Cinci. Somethin' about Sybil thinking her apartment was haunted 'cause she found a mug where she didn't leave it - but it turned out she was just like... Real goddamn high. Didn't want to waste the trip though, and since we were already in town... Pizza", Orin replied, gesturing broadly.

"We made her spring for it. That, and for the gas we wasted because of her little stoner moment. Oh; and also these", Clearly continued, nodding as she held and shook a 'Big Kahuna' cup.

Lucky made her way over to Orin and planted a big, sweet kiss on her husband's cheek.

"My hero", she chuckled.

"Awwwww I don't get one?", Clearly asked with a frown.

Lucky brought the full force of the cardboard pizza box down onto Clearly's head, smiling in triumph as she walked towards the microwave.

"So... Uh...", Lucky started as she prepared her dinner.

Clearly grunted in the affirmative.

"Have, um... Have you heard, anything? Lately?"

Clearly paused her game again, leaned her head back, and sighed.

"Please don't tell me you're asking what I think you're asking. Please."

Lucky gave her a sheepish grin.

"Oh my God. We meet them once and you go from fangirl to groupie. Plus, aren't they like... In their forties by now? You're 20 dude."

"Doesn't matter; hot is hot. And we didn't just meet them - we collaborated. We fucking collaborated with probably the most important Hunters ever!", Lucky burst, giggling.

"NO YOU FUCKING STALKER, SAM AND DEAN WINCHESTER HAVE NOT CALLED, TEXTED, EMAILED, OR VISITED IN THE THREE DAYS IT HAS BEEN SINCE YOU LAST ASKED", Clearly shouted back, smacking the side of her head.

Lucky stuck her tongue.

"My God Luck, you're about a scrapbook of hair and saliva and a stolen jockstrap away from slitting Dean's throat and wearing his skin like a suit, aren't you?"

"Um, rude"

Clearly turned back towards her other housemate.

"How do you feel about this creepy, downright obsequious middle-aged man fetish of Lucky's, Orin?"

"Eh. I'm open to it", Orin shrugged.

Clearly narrowed her eyes, exhaling heavily.

"... See, this is why I beat you."

Orin followed his wife's suit and stuck his tongue out.

He nearly bit it off when a sudden, frantic pounding slammed against the front door, followed closely by a husky, graveled shouting.

"Open up!"

They all stared, no-one moving.

"For the love of fuck open the goddamn door you pieces of shit!"

Orin quickly reached under the couch, throwing down his controller on the seat next to him and drawing two handguns, skillfully tossing one to Lucky who caught it with both hands before immediately checking the safety and cocking it; in a flash, Clearly had pulled the massive combat knife she kept strapped to her at all times - her "backup equilizer" she called it, being a 5'1" 147 pound woman - and was standing by the door. She quietly looked from Orin to Lucky and nodded towards her hand hovering over the doorknob. They all held their breath.

Lucky flung the door open, her knife at the ready, revealing a darkened figure, a pair of golden eyes glowing from the shadows, reflecting both the light from inside the house and the rage from inside the person standing there.

They wasted no time lurching forward over the threshold, and Lucky squeezed the trigger, a click echoing in everyone's ears as the now-illuminated - and now shocked - face of a young man came into view.

"LUCKY WHAT THE FUCK?!", he roared.

"God damn it Orin, why the hell was the magazine empty?! We always, always, always keep at least one bullet in all the guns at all times!", Lucky seethed.

"Well it's a good thing yours didn't this time or you would've shot Hunter in the face!", Orin replied.

"It wouldn't have killed him!"

"Yeah but it'd still be getting shot in the fucking face! It'd fucking hurt!", Clearly pointed out.

"Okay okay! Putting aside that Lucky almost shot me, would you fucking listen to me?!", Hunter interrupted.

"Well. There's no need to be rude", Lucky answered, speaking before thinking.

"Lucky, I am not in the mood, now sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up."

"Okay, okay; Jesus."

Hunter kicked the door shut behind him, and swung his jacket off in a fluid motion before shaking his long hair free of the water left by melted snow, the smell of wet dog permeating the room.

Clearly felt her heart lurch, just like every time she and Hunter met up. She slid her knife back into its sheath, and pulled a blanket from the couch.

"Here; let's warm you up", Clearly said gently, wrapping the soft, fuzzy blanket around his shoulders and leading him to the couch.

Clearly hoped he would and hoped he wouldn't realize she had more than just friendly feelings for him.

Hunter hoped Clearly wouldn't find his lack of resistance to her warm compassionate gesture - or the redding of his face and increase of the heat radiating from him - out of character.