Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/80010.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M, M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Genderfuck
  Stats:
      Published: 2010-04-13 Words: 5013
****** you'll start my heart again ******
by wordlocker
Summary
     Sam left for Stanford and Dean came for him. Everything else is
     different.
Sam couldn't remember a time when he wasn't completely and irrevocably in love
with his brother. And if he forgets everything about himself, about the life
he'd lived, he would never forget the case in Missouri the spring he was
sixteen.
It was their first salt and burn alone, Dad a distant worry back at the motel.
Dean had him all doped up and fixed, the gaping gash in his thigh stitched
tight by Dean's careful hand. It was a particularly mean spirit and just when
Dean's trusty shovel hit the rotten wood six feet below, Sam was flung across
four tombstones into a tree, a distinct crack drowned by the scream that left
him breathless. There was a roar after that, Dean's voice, a crackle and an
unfamiliar shriek and then he was looking up at his brother's gorgeous face,
panting and panicked and beautiful. Dean was repeating something frantically,
his breath hot against Sam's face, probably something like are you okay, Sammy?
Oh my god, are you okay?
Sam was sixteen and stupid and gone for the cocky, wonderful bastard of a hero
that was Dean when he first kissed his brother. It was dark and they were in a
graveyard and Sam was pretty sure he'd sprained his wrist to all hell but Dean
wasn't saying no, wasn't shoving Sam back, wasn't punching him in the face and
telling him how disgusting it was.
He punched Sam on the shoulder of his other arm as they made their way back to
the car, though, so it wasn't like anything had changed. The requisite bitch-
jerk exchange happened and Dean was silent all through the ride home, the
furrow in his brows giving him away. He'd hovered over both John and Sam
equally and their dad wasn't one to take that lying down so he was gone just as
soon as he could stand on his own two feet again.
It was ironic how it took Dean kissing him breathless for Sam to realize that
he had been holding his breath the entire time. Dean kissed like his whole life
depended on it – on pressing his lips against Sam's and curling his tongue
across Sam's palate. Sam's brother kissed like he meant it. It made Sam want to
cry and laugh and moan and come apart at the same time.
He kissed Dean back instead, hard. Everything after that was a blur of frantic
groping and hitched breaths and muffled groans. The only clear image burned
into Sam's mind was Dean's delighted laughter as he stumbled backwards into the
bed, Sam still attached to him.
 
.
 
It started with a kiss. It was only right that it ended with a kiss.
 
.
 
It took Sam a whole week of college to ignore the feel of Dean's lips branded
across his own. It was the hardest thing he'd had to do and it was only because
he was kept busy with classes and making friends that he'd stopped pressing his
fingertips against his mouth, recalling.
"Nervous?"
The girl was gorgeous – blonde and leggy with an amazing smile. Sam blinked and
realized that she was actually talking to him, nodding at the way he was
touching his bottom lip. "Uh, no."
She smiled knowingly, lips tilted and kept her gaze to the front. "Don't worry.
He won't ask questions if you just look up ahead and seem like you're paying
attention."
She was absently scribbling notes in her spiral notebook, her handwriting
straight and loopy. Girlish. Dean wrote at a slant, letters set far apart. "I'm
Sam."
She looked at him, grinning. "Jess."
 
.
 
Sometimes Sam still dreamed about the times that Dean'd fucked him. Dean loved
it when Sam begged, pinned underneath him and split open by his fat cock. It
didn't even matter that Sam started gaining the height advantage mere months
after they started having sex. Sam would be all pliant and needy, clinging to
his brother with his legs and arms and messy kisses. Dean would fuck into him
hard enough that the bed would shake and just when Sam was ready to come –
balls pulled tight and desperate – he'd woke up, hard and aching.
He'd be searching for the familiar warmth, the distinct scent (boy and grease
and gun oil and hair gel), the comforting soft snores and it'd take him a whole
minute to realize that they were gone.
It felt like somebody ripped out his heart every single time.
 
.
 
He shouldn't recognize who it was when he opened the door. But he did.
"Hey, Sammy."
The girl sounded like a girl and looked like a girl – huge bottle green eyes
underneath wing-like lashes, ridiculously full lips and short cropped hair
flopping over her face just the way Sam's used to do. But she was Sam's
brother.
It'd been forever. Years. Sam could still feel Dean's dick spreading him open
and there he was – she – staring up (way up) at Sam, drowning in John's old
leather jacket.
"Dean? What're you—"
"It's freezing out here," she said, rubbing up and down both her arms. It drew
Sam's attention to her very perky, very real breasts. "You gonna invite me in
or what, you perv?"
Sam shook his trance off and stepped back to let Dean in. it was staggering how
tiny Dean was as she brushed past Sam, the top of her head barely grazing Sam's
chest. He couldn't help but stare and after a few minutes Dean was too pissed
to pretend that she was really interested in Sam's choice of interior
furnishing.
"What?"
Sam sputtered. "What do you mean what, Dean? You're a. A—"
"Yes, I have boobs and a vagina," Dean said really loudly. Sam's stomach felt
like it's dropped down to his feet as he saw Jess standing at the kitchen
doorway, trying to hide the amusement on her face. Dean was blatantly checking
her out and if anything it came as a relief to Sam – that it was still his
brother inside. Only with a different packaging.
"Uh," Jess fidgeted before approaching them, an apple in one hand. "I'm late
for class. I'll get out of your way."
Sam sighed. Eighteen years with John and Dean as parents and he still took up
his manners somewhere, somehow. "Dean, this is my roommate, Jessica."
"Hey," Dean grinned, waving his hand in that usual dorky wave he did all the
time.
Sam saw Jess' eyebrow shot up. "Dean? The Dean?"
Dean's lips quirk slowly but surely. "I see Sammy's been talking about me."
Jess looked at Sam for a little while before flashing Dean a sheepish smile.
"Not really. I just. Well, the way he talked about you, I've always thought you
were…a boy."
Dean's eyes dimmed a little bit, but it was probably only apparent to Sam. She
shrugged casually, squinting. "I get that a lot."
"You were late for Beckman's class, you were saying?" Sam interjected,
providing a way out for everybody. Jess passed Dean a bright smile, muttered
her goodbyes and subtle hint that she'd be spending the night at her
girlfriend's loft and kissed Sam on the corner of his lips before leaving.
Dean waited for exactly three seconds before snorting. "She's way out of your
league, dude."
"Also, she likes girls," Sam pointed out, waving at the couch for Dean to take
a seat. "We're just friends, Dean."
"And you told her about me?"
Sam looked away. "Not specifically. I couldn't really tell her that I was
fucking my big brother. Just that I was…with someone before college."
Dean nodded, pretending to inspect the fabric of the couch. "So she's surprised
to find out I'm a chick."
"Because she knows I'm only ever serious with guys. And you and I were serious.
So," Sam said, his gaze unwavering. He could tell that Dean was ignoring the
giant elephant in the room, which was typical of Sam's brother. "Are we going
to address the issue of you being a girl or what?"
Dean shrugged and her shoulder looked so delicate. "Witches. I hate those
fuckers."
Sam groaned. "You pissed some off again?"
"Try a whole coven," Dean snorted. She wasn't looking at Sam anymore, busying
herself with the wall full of photos Jess had taken over the years.
"How're you holding up?" Sam asked after a while.
Dean shot him a glare and it almost shocked Sam how pretty she was. Even for
Dean. "Just peachy, Sam. Jesus."
"Who else knows?"
Dean averted her eyes again, but Sam could hear the eye-rolling in her tone.
"Like I want to advertise this to the world."
It made sense. They didn't really have anyone after John died. They didn't talk
about it – not at all, really. It hurt Dean too much and Sam just didn't care
enough. Really, all they had was each other. Nothing much changed, there.
"So," Dean said after a while. She was staring at the picture of Jess in her
bikini, arms wrapped around a grinning Sam. "You figure I have a shot?"
Sam had to convince himself that Dean had meant with Jess, taking his time to
respond. "Not in a million years."
"I'll have you know that my pussy is totally dyke-approved in at least six
states."
Sam gaped. "You didn't."
"Please, Sammy," Dean smirked, hands clasped against her chest. "What kind of a
girl do you think I am?"
 
.
 
Dean came out for dinner wearing nothing but a tight wifebeater and a pair of
boy shorts so Sam didn't think she actually cared what the answer to her last
question would've been. She caught Sam staring at her ass and made a show of
straddling the breakfast bar stool as Sam served them dinner.
Dean as a girl still ate like a hog. She was happily gobbling a whole corn when
Sam decided to talk. "What happened after Jericho, Dean?"
Sore subject. Dean'd stopped chewing, gaze trained on her nearly empty plate.
"I called you and you didn't come."
Sam put down his fork, softening his tone even more. "I wanted to, Dean. I
just—"
"I know," Dean interrupted, not meeting Sam's eyes. "So I salted and burned
Dad's body and I went on a solo hunt and then here I am."
There was a sad smile on Dean's face. Sam took her hands and held them,
stroking her palm and the delicate bones of her wrists. "I'm sorry, Dean," he
hedged, anticipating that Dean would pull away any moment. "I just. I swore I
was done hunting and Dad told me that I shouldn't come back. I was so…angry.
But I never wanted to leave you. Never meant to hurt you."
He waited for Dean to cry – seemed appropriate for her to do so – but she never
did.
 
.
 
They were staring at the double bed like a couple of idiots. Sam usually
covered more than half of it and just picturing Dean tucked against him all
warm and soft was making him shiver.
"I'll sleep on the couch. Just," he paused when Dean casually slid a large
knife underneath her pillow, "yell if you need anything."
Dean looked at him like he was stupid for implying that she couldn't protect
herself. Her bare toes were curled into the carpet.
"I meant from the house. Pillows or blankets or stuff like that," Sam clarified
lamely.
Dean rolled her eyes and climbed into bed, pale, smooth thighs catching Sam's
attention. "Don't be such a pussy. Get in."
Even before Stanford they'd never really shared a bed. Mostly because they were
always too big to fit into the crappy single beds they had and sleeping in
John's bed would've been too weird. And Dean would rather sleep in the wet spot
than cuddle.
Sam got under the covers gingerly, his whole body tense. He could feel Dean
watching him, lying flat on her back. He followed suit, making sure there were
a couple of inches separating them. "How long?"
Dean didn't ask what he meant, her eyes trained on the ceiling. "Half a year or
so."
Sam started, turning his head in Dean's direction. "And you waited this long to
come to me for help?"
"I just needed a place to stay."
There were things Dean wasn't telling him but before he could ask anything she
shifted onto her side, away from him and murmured a good night. His gaze landed
on the high slope of her hips and ass in the moonlight and he cursed himself
for not getting a bigger bed when Jess told him to.
 
.
 
Sam came home to a delicious scent. He followed it all the way to the living
room before Dean's weird Metallica humming filtered in from the kitchen. He
couldn't fight off the goofy smile on his face even when he approached Dean,
intending to surprise her. But Dean's hunter instinct was still as sharp as
ever.
"Pie will be ready in five."
Sam loosened his tie and took a seat on a stool. "All of a sudden you're Betty
Crocker now?"
"Shut up. I was bored," she said, turning around for the first time to look at
Sam. She visibly paused and took the sight in, panning slowly from top to
bottom. Sam fought a full-body shiver at the look in her eyes. He told himself
that it was nothing. That she was just staring because she'd never seen him in
a nice, proper suit before.
"So you learned how to bake?" Sam pointed out just to break the silent tension.
Dean wiped her hands on the front of Jess' colorful apron, a leftover from
Sam's brother's nervous tic. "It was on the Food Channel. That's the only thing
I could stomach. Seriously, Sammy, what's the point of living with a lesbian
when you can't even get a little girl-on-girl action on cable?"
Dean only ever rambled when nervous so Sam slid lower in his seat and sprawled
his legs even more, loving the way Dean fidgeted at the sight. "I get to see
plenty live action stuff."
Dean's jaw dropped in disbelief but she quickly covered it up with a snort.
"No, you don't."
Sam just smirked in response and enjoyed the weight of Dean's stare as they
danced around the kitchen. Until he heard a yelp and turned to see Dean
cradling one hand with a pained expression on her face. "Dean?"
"Fuck," she hissed, flapping her pointer finger around. "My hand slipped. Cut
myself."
Sam grimaced in sympathy and quickly went to her, extending his hand. "Let me
see."
Dean's hand felt impossibly tiny inside Sam's, her fingers long and tapered and
girlish. Sam didn't think twice before he wrapped his lips around the one
injured and sucked softly. Dean made a noise that was a cross between a whimper
and a growl and automatically fell forward right into the circle of Sam's arms.
Dean was warm and needy and she was blinking those ridiculously green eyes at
Sam so he had no choice but to kiss her.
Dean tasted not quite the same, but still familiar. She readily opened her
mouth underneath Sam's and it went completely frantic after that. There was a
flurry of clothes being torn off bodies and slamming kisses with tongues and
teeth and ragged moans and the next thing they knew Dean was on her knees at
the breakfast counter, sucking Sam off eagerly. Dean'd always loved giving
blowjobs but it was even crazier how much she was enjoying it then. Her mouth
and hands were a lot smaller and she was practically choking on Sam's dick and
it was very messy and uncoordinated and extremely hot. It was the only reason
why Sam wasn't even embarrassed when he came far too quickly, knees barely
holding him up as Dean swallowed it all.
There were still traces of Sam's spunk and her saliva on Dean's bottom lip and
chin when Sam hauled her up easily and spread her right on top of the dining
table, going right to work. He'd had little practice with it but Dean made it
easy with her tiny moans and full body shiver and her desperate fingers raking
through Sam's hair, letting him know exactly when he was doing something right.
Sam had to pull away just for a second, marveling at the sight of her – so
incredibly beautiful with her miles of smooth freckled skin, arched back and
slack mouth that Sam could feel his dick twitching again. He licked harder
instead, pressing slightly against her fluttering tummy as she clamped her
thighs around his head. When she came, not so long after, it came as a shock.
Dean, as Sam could see, because of how intense it was, her whole body shaking
and seizing and Sam because of the heavy gush of liquid that hit him as she
peaked.
He kissed his way up her belly to her chest and up to her inviting mouth as she
came down, worshipping every inch of her he could. "Dude," he breathed, caught
himself in time. "Dean, you came."
Dean was breathless as she wiggled to get as comfortable as possible, legs
wound around Sam's thighs. "Well, duh."
"No," Sam laughed, nipping on her bottom lip. She was still so incredibly wet
when he fingered her again, hips jerking, oversensitive. "You actually came.
Like, you squirted."
She wriggled free from his fingers and made a face. "Yeah," she said, wrinkling
her nose. "That's sort of gross, huh?"
It forced another laughter out of Sam and he pressed their foreheads together,
kissing her playfully. "Are you kidding? It's fucking hot."
Dean blushed even harder as a girl, cheeks flaming. She swatted halfheartedly
at Sam's chest and scowled. "Get off, Ginormo. Need to check on my pie."
He let her off slowly, after a couple more lingering kisses that left her out
of breath. He watched as she moved around in just her baby blue panties,
silently hoping that she'd let him fuck her that night.
 
.
 
Dean didn't even let him drive the next morning. But at least they were on
their way to get provisions (as Dean called them), so Sam was content to just
watch her behind the wheel, Sam's brother's old Ray Bans perched on her nose.
He could feel the bone deep satisfaction from last night, even when Dean
refused to do anything else without all the protection they could afford.
"I'm not risking it, you psycho," she said, kicking him on the shin.
Sam came twice anyway, once from her clever hands and another time when she let
him rub up against her, inner thighs wet from her third orgasm that night. He'd
wake up to find her snoring lightly against his chest, fingers clutching his
hip. She refused to shower together but didn't mind making out over the
breakfast bar, tongues sticky with syrup and butter.
They'd both ignored the looks they were getting at the drug store, small basket
all piled up with every contraceptive devices known to man. Sam pressed a kiss
against Dean's temple and smiled politely at the lady checking them out and
offered to carry half of the bag to the car. Dean didn't exactly rush back but
by the time the door to the apartment closed behind them, she was already
hanging from his middle, sucking on his tongue like it was the only thing she
needed in life. He took his time with her this time, undressing her slowly,
kissing and licking her all over until she came apart over and over again. He'd
teased her to the point of begging before slamming into her with one hard
thrust and it was so perfect that they'd both locked up, silently screaming
into each other's mouths. Dean came so easily, fluttering around Sam's cock in
waves, heated juices leaking everywhere.
She'd clung to his neck as he rocked inside her, suckling her perfect tits, and
moaned. "God, yes, oh, Sammy. Fuck, fuck, oh. Sweet baby boy dicking me so
good. Fuck, harder, baby, please, please."
His hips slammed into hers as he came, so hard he'd stopped breathing. She
sobbed and dug her teeth into his shoulder and he thrust a few more times,
praising her as he let everything go.
 
.
 
There was a plate of chocolate chip cookies on the counter when they came down
for breakfast – brunch, more accurately – the next morning and Sam silently
thanked Jess for it. Dean settled down and immediately wolfed it down, legs
crossed so comfortably on the barstool.
Sam picked a cookie up and kissed the sharp point of her shoulder blade. "Hey,"
he said softly.
Dean smiled at him and something inside Sam clenched up tight. "What?" she
asked him, mouth full with half-chewed cookie. "Such a needy bastard aren't
you, Sammy?"
Sam smirked, biting into his cookie. "Speaking of needy, I think you broke some
kind of record last night."
Dean flushed instantly but kicked up a leg and managed to hit Sam, making him
wobble. "Shut up. I can tell you miss the days of me fucking you."
Sam wasn't about to give up, cocking an eyebrow. "Probably."
"Yeah?" Dean challenged, getting up from her seat. "I could still do it, you
know? Fuck you until you scream."
"Bring it," Sam grinned. "Oof!"
She'd jumped up his back with ease, grinding against his ass and grabbing hold
of his hair with one hand, muttering filth at him even as he laughed. Somebody
cleared their throat and they sobered up enough to see Jess standing in the
doorway, an amused tilt to her mouth as she reminded them not to finish the
cookies in one sitting. She winked at Sam before she left and he gave Dean a
piggyback ride to the living room before tossing her onto the couch, diving in
right after.
"Damn, Sammy. She must think you're really into pegging now," Dean teased.
Sam shrugged. "She's been inviting me for a threesome since forever. She
must've known before."
Dean gaped at him, shoving him hard. "Fuck off."
"Are you jealous?"
Dean slid one leg over Sam's lap and climbed on, a feral grin on her face. "Are
you kidding? I'd want to watch."
Sam groaned as Dean slid lower.
 
.
 
Dean was making all sort of noises as Sam fucked into her, ass canted up like
an invitation. She sent him a pleading look from over her shoulder as he palmed
the globes and Sam went to town. The headboard crashed against the wall as he
rammed harder and faster, breath punching out in harmony with Dean's keening
whimpers.
"Want me to fuck you in the ass, baby? So desperate for it, huh?" he groaned,
grunting when she rippled around him, ready to come again. It was hard for him
but he slipped out just to slide his cock along the crease of her ass, teasing
her with it before fucking back inside. "Yeah, like that?"
Sam pressed a couple of fingers against the tightly furled entrance, the barest
pressure and she came with a shout, milking his cock so deliciously his breath
hitched. Their harsh breathing filled the air and Sam's arms trembled next to
Dean's face as he slowly slipped out. She turned and kissed the inside of his
arm and he rolled her over, slumping down just to kiss her mouth, heart
drumming erratically in his ribcage. Dean's eyelids fluttered as she gave in to
slumber, barely snuffling when Sam tucked her real close, inhaling the citrus
on her hair and falling asleep to it.
He woke up with a start because there was something in the room, something dark
and evil and powerful. Dean wasn't in the bed with him and Sam panicked,
something large lodged in his throat as he tried calling out for her. His gaze
flicked upwards and his heart stuttered to a halt.
There she was, mouth gaping open on a cry as the flame engulfed her entire body
and there was absolutely nothing he could do but screamed.
 
.
 
Sam's heart jolted back into life and Dean's name was on the tip of his tongue,
coming out as a helpless yell. The ceiling above his bed was blessedly empty
and Sam blinked just to be sure.
"Jesus, Sam," Dean groaned from next to him, burying her nose in the crook of
Sam's neck even as her feet kicked at Sam's, irritated. "What?"
Sam looked over at her, touched her face just to reassure himself and she
finally opened her eyes. "Nothing," he sighed. "Just. Just go back to sleep,
Dean."
She kissed him on the lips and didn't argue, sinking back into the sheets. Sam
lied awake for twenty minutes after that, trying to get his heart to slow down.
He finally relented and got up to head to the kitchen, looking back over his
shoulder just to make sure Dean was still asleep. Still there.
The water he sipped went down like sand and his heart still won't stop
hammering in his chest. The trip back to his room felt like it was played in
slow motion and when the bed came into view it was like a horror film unfolding
before his eyes. A dark figure was standing over Dean, the only part visible
his sickly yellow eyes. Sam staggered in his step and he could see the flash of
grin from the creature before Dean's eyes flew right open. He wanted to warn
her, wanted to dive in front of her, wanted to tell her to run but she was
reaching underneath her pillow before he could do anything.
The blade Dean was holding swiftly slashed across the creature's neck – his
very human neck – and a flash of light burst out before he limply dropped to
the floor. It was a little too much to take in in the fraction of a second that
Dean'd moved and it was only when Dean stumbled up to him that he'd started to
breathe again.
"Dean," he said dazedly, vaguely aware of Dean's hands on his body. "What. What
happened?"
"Long story," she said distractedly, tugging insistently on his arm. "Sammy,
are you okay?"
Sam blinked and Dean remained there, her green eyes huge and worried. "Me? What
about you? What was that thing?"
"It's okay. Everything's going to be okay now. That was a demon. He was coming
after us like he went after Mom."
"The demon?" Sam breathed.
"Yes, but I killed him so it's all over now. We're gonna be okay," Dean said,
her tone entirely too calm for Sam's comfort.
"What do you mean you killed him? What kind of weapon could kill demons?"
Dean looked away painfully, stalling her answer as long as possible. "This
blade, apparently."
"Dean," Sam said somberly, taking a hold of her arm in return, forcing her to
look at him. "Where'd you get it?"
Her smile was humorless, just a twist of her lips that looked a lot like a
frown. "Remember the coven of witches I sorta pissed off? Iced one of 'em to
get it. Only thing she's good for anyway."
Sam was so mad at her for doing it, for giving up way too much for something
that they would never get back. But he could see how much it hurt her and Dean
was nothing if she wasn't giving all she had for what she believed in. "You
killed a witch?"
"Sorry. Did I say witch? I meant demon bitch," she gritted out, knuckles tight
around the hilt of the knife.
It didn't matter to Sam. "So you could kill a demon? Dean, was it even worth
it?"
Dean's gaze snapped up to Sam's face, her jaw squared. "That demon killed Mom,
Sam. It broke our family apart. It took away your chance at normal life. I
would die if that's what it'll take to kill him. And this," she gestured at her
trembling body. "This is nothing."
Sam nodded, gathered Dean up in his arms and let her cry into his chest, her
sobs filling the silent air.
 
.
 
Dean had one arm out the window, wind whipping around her pretty face as she
hummed along with Bad Company on the stereo. Driver picks the music, that was
the rule. The wheel looked huge in her hands but the car was purring just the
way it had when Sam's brother used to drive her. Dean's cutoffs hiked up as she
shifted her legs and Sam averted his eyes quick enough to catch the impish curl
of her lips at his brief stare. Sam's t-shirt was slipping down her bare
shoulder and Dean lounged back in her driver's seat, eyes locked on the
horizon.
They had nowhere to go and Sam could go anywhere Dean would drive them.
"Can I ask you something?" Sam asked. Dean hummed back a response. "How are you
so calm about this?"
They never needed clarification between them and Dean's smile was wistful as
she pushed back her bangs away from her face. "I have…oh, I don't know, six
months left? Before I turn back."
Sam couldn't help the snort of laughter, shaking his head at his brother.
"Should've known."
Dean grinned. "A year. That was the deal."
"You jerk. Got me thinking the worst."
Dean's hands slipped lower on the wheel and she passed a quick smile at Sam.
"You miss me huh, Sammy? The real me?"
Sam scowled. "You're still you, Dean."
She shook her head gently. "Not really," she muttered. Then, after a while,
"You think you'll still feel the same when I turn back?"
"Dean," Sam said seriously, giving her his full attention. "I lost my virginity
to you. I love you more than anything in my whole life. I don't care what you
look like. It doesn't matter because I'll still love you. I'll always be in
love with you. Hell, you could sprout wings tomorrow and I'll still love you.
You understand that?"
Dean was silent, biting on her lower lip. When she spoke, her voice was
hopeful. "Funny you should mention that."
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