3. The "Date"

"Something's clicked for you," I tell Steve as I drive him to work.

Yes, my stray has become a worker. The Gas-N-Sip snatched him right up, easy. Good news for him, slightly good news for me. It made me feel good the day I learned he got hired. His life was on a turnaround. Now I needed to get my ass into gear.

"My life is starting to come together," he admits with a yawn. "That gets annoying fast."

"What?"

"Yawning. Being tired."

"Eh, sometimes you're just used to it. You asked for the morning shift anyway."

"I didn't ask for it, I got assigned it." There's a beat of silence. "You don't have to do this, Sierra. Drive me."

"No offense, Steve, but I'm not risking my truck being in someone else's hands." I smirk. "Maybe sometime under supervision, I'll let you take her out for a spin. But not on your own, not this tired." I yawn.

I pull up to the sidewalk and park the car, ruffling my bedhead. Truthfully, my sleep pattern has been spotty. Some nights I'll be knocked out, others I'll wake periodically throughout the night and then struggle to fall back asleep.

"So, the usual time?" I ask.

"Unless I use someone's phone to tell you otherwise, yes."

"Good."

I smile fondly as Steve gets out of the truck and unlocks the store. I linger for a few minutes. I didn't think I'd grow so fond of my stray. I don't mind having him around. He's proven to be trustworthy. He's never once attempted to kill me or take from me. If he tried anything, I would definitely kick his ass. But Steve doesn't seem like the fighting type. Then again, I probably don't either.

Tapping my cheeks to wake me further, I put the truck into gear and drive off, leaving Steve to start his day at work, and for me to start my day back at the house.

* * *

Another disappearance? I think as I look online on my laptop.

I sigh. My lips twitch into a lopsided frown. Four disappearances in weeks, and all the crime scenes show is that pink substance. This time, the most recent one happened today at a school. This sounds like the kind of thing my family would jump all over. But not me. That's not me. I'm staying clean, away from any crime that involves strange circumstances.

If my family doesn't come to handle it, then the count won't stop at four. What if I have to take it upon myself to fix this? But where would I start? I've been out of practice for over a decade. It's practically been domesticated out of me. I'm as normal as the people in Rexford.

Well, I'm normal at least. My family isn't.

My phone goes off, and I grab it immediately. I don't recognize the number, but I still answer it anyway. "Yeah?"

"Sierra?"

"Oh, hey, Steve, something wrong?" I go back to my laptop and scan the article further.

"No, uh, nothing's wrong. I'm just—I've got plans after work."

"Plans? What kind?"

"The kind that involves meeting a woman."

"Oh. So a date?" I perk up. "Let me guess, is it a coworker?"

"Do the details really matter?"

"You live at my place, Steve. I kinda have a right to know what's going on with you."

"Yes, I'm going on a date with a coworker."

"Well, am I coming to get you or not?"

"No, I've got a ride to her place."

"At least let me swing by and grab you so you can get a change of clothes. I'm sure I can find something."

"No, no, Sierra, I'll manage with what I have."

"You sure?" I cock my head. "I can bring the stuff to you if you want."

"No, really, I'll be fine."

I blow out air through my mouth. "Fine, don't try to look your best and impress your date." I ruffle my blonde hair. "Is she taking you back to her place?"

"No, a—a friend is driving me there."

"Not to offend you, Steve, but, you never told me you had any friends."

"It never got brought up in conversation."

"It still would have been nice to know." I hear commotion on his end of the line. "Are you at work, Steve?"

"Yeah, why?"

"It doesn't sound like it." Listening closer, I hear chatter, way more than I would expect at a Gas-N-Sip.

"We're a bit busy here."

I scrunch my eyebrows. "Okay then. So, is this friend of yours going to take you back here once the date is over?"

"We'll see. If not, I'll give you the address so you can come get me."

"Sounds like a plan." I shake my head. "Good luck on that date, Steve."

"Thank you. I'll see you later."

"See you." I end the call and close the article on the screen.

If I was the old me, I would be all over this. Police can't comprehend these kinds of cases, especially since they wouldn't understand why there's a pink substance left at every crime scene. Truthfully, I don't know why either. I know these happenings aren't normal by any means.

Unfortunately, I have a feeling that they won't go away either. The toll will only go up.

* * *

I'm eating whatever leftovers I find in the fridge when my phone goes off once again. Sighing, I answer the phone. "Did your ride ditch you, Steve?"

"What? No, no, and how do you always assume I'm the one calling you?" he asks.

I shrug. "Intuition. What's up?"

"I've encountered a slight problem, and I don't really know how to handle it."

"Okay, what's the problem?" Before Steve can explain, I hear a baby crying in the background.

"That is the problem if you heard it." His voice is laced in panic. "My date set me up to babysit so she could go out on her own date."

"Oh, Steve, I'm sorry."

"I have no idea how to handle a baby, Sierra. I was hoping you would?"

"I don't have any kids! How would I know?"

"Well, you must have motherly instincts even if you don't have kids."

I rub my face. "Do you want me to walk you through the process?"

The crying grows louder. "I think you better come over to help me figure this out."

I sigh. "Okay. Give me the address and I'll hightail it over. In the meantime, try to calm the baby down."

"How am I supposed to do that when I don't know how to?"

"I don't know, Steve, figure it out. Address."

Once Steve tells me the address, I end the call and grab my jacket. Just when his luck was going up, it plateaued. I grab the keys to my truck and head out, leaving the place empty.

The drive is about fifteen minutes from my place. I pass few cars on my way down. This place is in a nice, quiet neighborhood. I've never known what that's like. My home was a car for most of my life, and a lot of motel rooms. Rexford is perhaps the closest thing I've had to a tangible home since my house burnt down back in Kansas when I was little.

When I find the house number, I park the car along the sidewalk and enter through the gate up to the porch. I knock on the door. Thankfully, Steve answers. I can hear the baby crying from another room. Steve looks relieved to see me.

"I thought you wouldn't come," he says.

"You need help, so I'm here. Does your friend not know anything about babies?"

"I figured you were better to ask, he has his own things to worry about."

"I see." I step into the house. "So, your date set you up with her baby? What got misinterpreted there, Steve?"

"She'd asked if I was free, nothing other than that."

"Hmm, maybe she should have made things a little clearer." I follow the baby's crying into the room. "Sorry about the bad luck." I go to the wailing baby in the crib. "Oh, she's so precious." I lean over the crib railing. "If she wasn't crying so loud that my ears are about to bleed, she'd be even cuter." Steve is beside me, I look to him. "What have you tried?"

"I—I haven't gotten that far."

"Okay, okay, um...Well, there's always the chance a lullaby can calm her down."

"Good, you get on that."

I glare at him. "You're the babysitter, I'm just the help. Go on, take her. She won't break if you touch her."

"But I might drop her."

"You won't. I'll be here in case God forbid you do."

Steve looks at me warily. "All right." He reaches in and grab's the crying girl out of her crib. He looks at me expectantly, I gesture for him to try. "Um...Okay. Shh. Shh!" Steve begins to move about the room.

His voice isn't half bad as his sings to the crying baby in his arms. I can't help but watch how almost natural that looks for him.

"Look at what's happenin' to me

I can't believe it myself

Suddenly I'm up on top of the world

It should've been somebody else"

To both our amazement, the cries stop. Now, it's just Steve's voice that's in the room. He keeps on going.

"Oh, believe it or not

I'm walkin' on air

I never through I would feel so free-e-e

Flyin' away on a wing and a prayer

Who could it be?

Believe it or not, it's just me

Believe it or not, it's just me"

"You did it," I whisper. Steve looks at me, smiling nervously. "And here you thought it wasn't gonna work."

"Hopefully, she's fine now." Steve walks back over to the crib and begins to set the baby down. But the baby starts crying again, and Steve and I sigh. He reclaims her. "Shh. I know. I know." He moves to a chair in the room and sits down.

"I think I don't need to be here," I say casually.

"No, please, stay." Steve looks at me with pleading eyes. "I feel better knowing I have someone to help me if I need it."

"If you insist."

Steve is rocking the baby in his arms, looking down at her. "Nobody told you. Nobody explained. You're just...shoved out kicking and screaming into this human life, without any idea why any of it feels the way it feels, or why this confusion, which feels like it's...a hair's breadth from terror or pain." At this point, the baby has stopped crying again. "You know, just when you think you do understand, it'll turn out you're wrong. You didn't understand anything at all. Guess that's just how it is when you're new at this. You know, it wasn't long ago when all I'd need to do to ease your pain was touch you."

I think Steve forgot I was present in the room. Some things that he just said make me look at him suspiciously. There's still a chance he's a whack job. A harmless whack job, but a whack job nevertheless.

Steve touches the baby's forehead. "You're very warm. Is that normal?"

"She's probably running a fever," I state as the baby starts up again. "Here, let me take her." I go over to Steve and relieve him of the crying baby. "Okay, okay. Shh. Shh. It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay. You're okay."

"I'm going to call Nora. Can I borrow your phone?"

"Yeah, sure. It's in my front pocket."

Steve looks a little uneasy when trying to fish my phone out, but he does. He leaves the room to call the baby's mother, leaving me with the infant. I'm sure this is a common thing. Babies do get sick, just like adults do.

"Nora, she's hot," I hear Steve say from another room. "She's really hot. Please just call—call me. Call—call back. If I don't hear back, I'm taking her to the hospital."

Steve comes back into the room. I shake my head at him, feeling her forehead. Her temperature is almost Hell-hot, and that's a scary sign.

"We doing a hospital run?" I ask.

"We're going to have to."

"Okay, let's go to my truck. I think I know the closest hospital."

Steve takes lead, eyeing the baby in my arms worriedly. I'm right behind him just as he reaches the door.

Instead of heading for my truck, we're blocked off by a stranger in the doorway. And he doesn't look very friendly. 

**I figured I would indulge us all in a little video footage of Cas singing. Ugh, it's too precious <3**