#ironsidehunter

[roadhouserunner]

continued  |  @ironsidehunter

“So what you’re saying is, you’re never going to forget the day I finally beat you at poker?”

[theotherharvellehunter-blog]

Phone Call || Jo and Bobby

Jo took a few minutes to get completely awake after she hung up with Dean. Once she'd collected herself, she picked up the phone to call Bobby like she'd offered.

Jo Harvelle: [waits while the phone rings]

[stolengrace]

Catching Up

Anna lingered over the Enochian symbols for a while after Jenny left her. Eventually she decided there was nothing more to be gained from staring at them any more. Instead she would go look for the med bay, where hopefully Sam or Bobby were still working.

Making her way from the small room, she headed deeper into the ship. This was certainly no ordinary place, and not only because of it's size and ability to defy dimensions. It felt as though it were alive, and she could almost swear something or someone helped her find the med bay.

As she walked through the door, she saw no sign of Sam, but Bobby was there reading one of his old leather-bound books.

"I hope I'm not interrupting?" she said as she moved closer to where the weathered hunter was sitting. "Is there anything I can help with?"

[it-always-escalates-blog]

Med Room Miracles // Bobby, TARDIS, and Sam

Sam followed Bobby into the med bay, looking around around with wide eyes as he took in the parts of the ship he hadn't had time to explore properly. He barely remembered to tell Jenny the Doctor had asked for her, awed as he was.

His eyes flickered to the woman that was also the TARDIS - the Doctor had mentioned she would be in here. He'd only seen her breifly once before, when she dumped him off in Cardiff with a warning not to talk to Jack (though, things hadn't gone too badly considering, though the traipse through the sewers had been a bit unnecessary). Then his eyes flickered to the survivor, the one the Doctor had cured. This wasn't his area of expertise - this was something that Bobby would have to look into.

"Hey," he greeted, almost waving before remembering he'd carted some books back to the bay. He placed the books he'd carried with him on a table and stepped back, unsure where to begin and deciding it may be best to just jump right in.

[stoleatimelord-andranaway-blog]

Drink Me. - Bobby Singer

The TARDIS eyed the bottle in front of her doubtfully.  ”I do not believe this is a good idea.”

Bobby was starting to think he would’ve been better off just splashing the strange woman with the holy water, instead of giving it to her in a drink.  ”It ain’t like it’s whiskey,” he said, not really sure how he was staying mostly patient.  ”Yer not gonna git drunk on one beer.”

While she didn’t look like she believed him, the TARDIS took a cautious sip from the bottle.  Bobby settled back in his chair.  Not demonic, then, whatever the hell she was.  Now that she’d actually drunk some of the holy water laced beer, it didn’t really matter if she finished it, so when she set the bottle down gingerly and announced “I do not believe I enjoy beer,” his only response was to snort and reach across the table to grab it.  No sense wasting a good drink.

“Fine.  More fer me, then.”

[mourn-not-the-morning-blog]

Drink. - Bobby Singer

Lucifer caught the beer that was thrown to him grudgingly. He held it in his fingertips and inspected the label, not really reading anything on it. Even if there were any ingredients harmful to humans, they would have no effect on him. It was more for show than anything, and after he'd spent a sufficient amount of time glaring at it he turned the same glare onto Robert Singer.

He got a snort in return. "Don't even bother," Bobby said gruffly. "I've seen worse looks from the bathroom mirror, not to mention hormonal teenage boys." He took a deep drink of his beer and sat down, well outside the lines of sealing.

From the middle, Lucifer kept staring at him, perched on the headboard of the bed (if otherwise incapacitated he could at least be tall). "And why should I accept your swill?"

" 's all you're getting," Bobby answered. "I don't give a crap whether it's good enough for your royal evilness."

Lucifer spun the bottle lightly, end over end, and threw it harshly onto the ground, right on the sigils. "It's not," he said coldly.

Bobby's eyes went between the two spots--the broken bottle and Lucifer's perch--and he snorted. "Nice try, drama queen, those aren't coming off no matter what you throw at them."

Lucifer frowned and checked. It was true that neither the liquid nor the impact had affected the markings any, and with his powers bound he couldn't do much more than he had already tried.

He huffed and stared at the wall, resolutely ignoring Bobby's frequent sounds of satisfaction as he drank his beer.

[theotherharvellehunter-blog]

Kiss. - Bobby

There was something cozy about Bobby's house.  Almost homey, in a 'home to the slightly creepy uncle who gives you beer and teaches you how to shoot a twelve-gauge' sort of way.  Sure, it was kinda dingy and there were books everywhere, but that didn't really bother Jo.  She was used to that.  So when Joanna Beth Harvelle, age eleven, decided that she was sick of being told she couldn't hunt, the first place she thought to go was Uncle Bobby's.

She turned up on his front porch about half an hour after the frantic phone call from Ellen saying that Jo wasn't in her bed.  Bobby was waiting with a coffee mug in one hand, book in the other, and a scowl on his face when he looked up.  Jo winced.  This wasn't going to be good.

"How'dja get here?"

"Hitchhiked, mostly."  Jo scowled.  "Mom's being completely ridiculous, and she won't let me go out and hunt, and it's not fair, Uncle Bobby!"  She gave him a pathetic look.

Bobby sighed.  "Git inside.  You c'n start by helpin' me clean m'guns."  He'd load her into the truck and send her back to Ellen after a couple days of seeing how much hard work hunting could be. Jo looked thrilled by the idea, though.

She even kissed Bobby on the cheek on her way into the house.

[stoleatimelord-andranaway-blog]

Home. - Bobby Singer

The TARDIS had been trying not to move her rooms around, for the benefit of her human passengers, but she wasn't entirely sure how Bobby was finding his way around.  She hadn't shown him, and the Doctor's directions could be...interesting.  Had he been exploring?  It was the only explanation she could come up with for the fact that he had turned up in the library without someone showing him the way.  And not the huge, impressive library that had temporarily been home to the swimming pool, either, but the small one she'd taken to reading in.

 The books she didn't want humans getting into were well-hidden a moment after Bobby entered, so she didn't say anything, just watched curiously over the pages of her book as he browsed her shelves.  She didn't know what he was looking for, but the hunter struck her as someone she really didn't want to ask questions.  Eventually, she was drawn back into her book, and it took her a moment to notice Bobby standing in front of her.

"Don't see any books on the place yer from in here," he said gruffly when the TARDIS finally looked up.  She frowned.

"No, you wouldn't.  They're all in our language, you wouldn't be able to read them."  She deliberately omitted the fact that she chose not to translate them.  She hesitated a moment before offering "I could tell you about it, if you like."

"That'd work."