Archive of Our Own ^beta

Charlie lazily flicked through the pages of the graphic novel she was holding. Technically, it wasn’t even hers, it was the shop’s, but since she owned the shop, she supposed it didn’t really matter. It was a slow day, and there was only one other customer in the shop, shuffling through posters in the back.

She was having Dean put out the new t-shirts that recently came in, and she watched him out of the corner of her eye as he neatly folded the colorful clothing.

“All I’m saying, is that it’s a dumb argument, dude.”

Dean squawked in indignation. “There is nothing dumb about Star Trek, Charlie.” He shook his head, laughing at her obvious ignorance.

She flipped through another page. She’d read this one before, so she was mostly just skimming. “I agree with you Dean, however, Star Wars is a completely different story, you can’t even compare them.”

“Yeah,” he admitted. “But Star Trek is still better.”

The bell of the shop rang and without even looking up from where she was leaning against the counter and reading, Charlie asked, “Trek or Wars?”

“Pardon?”

Oh, shit. Charlie had assumed it was one her regulars, the same hundred or so people that came into the shop, Sam even, but this voice was definitely a new one. She jerked her head up and saw a woman standing in the doorway, looking impatient.

“Uh, sorry.” Charlie mumbled. She set her book on the glass counter, pages split open and stood up straighter. “I thought you were someone else.”

“That’s alright,” she said bemusedly. She carried a briefcase, and wandered around the store aimlessly.

Charlie raised her eyebrows at Dean, who shrugged. Maybe she was shopping for a friend or something. It wouldn’t have been the first time someone had trailed into Salt & Burn Comics, looking for a gift for someone who “was into comic books and geeky stuff like that,” and had no idea where to start.

She walked up and down the aisles, hardly casting a glance at any of the books and toys available. She was more focused on the space of the shop, it seemed. She surveyed the room curiously, exploring the walls and empty spaces.

Dean and Charlie watched the woman wander around the shop. What the hell was she doing?

Finally, she seemed satisfied with whatever she was doing, and she turned back towards the front of the shop.

She caught Charlie’s eye, to which Charlie said, “Hi, can I help you with anything?”

The woman smiled pleasantly, almost business-like. She strode to the counter top, and stuck her hand out to Charlie. “Hello, my name is Dorothy Baum, I’m looking for the owner?”

“We don’t have one!” Dean called from his table.

“Dude,” Charlie said, giving Dean a meaningful glance. Dorothy-although attractive-looked very professional. She was wearing a plain brown pantsuit, and her hair was tucked into a neat bun. He nails were neatly filed, and she was holding a briefcase, for Christ’s sake.

She kind of reminded Charlie of her high school principal. Not the one that was balding and kind of looked like Patrick Stewart, the younger one that took over her senior year, that always lectured Charlie about discipline and respect. And while sure, Charlie had a giant crush on Mrs. Marone and had some pretty interesting dreams about her, that wasn’t why this woman reminded Charlie of her.

Mostly.

“I’m...afraid I don’t understand.” Dorothy said, cocking her head. “Is there no Charlotte Bradbury here?”

“Charlotte?” Dean snickered.

“Dean,” she hissed, glaring at him again. Who knew what this lady wanted? She was probably a lawyer, coming to sue Charlie for some cyber crime she did in high school. The last thing she needed was Dean’s sass getting her in more trouble.

“Sorry, never mind him. That would be me, hi. Uh, ‘Charlie’ is fine.” She smiled at her brightly, and hoped that it gave off some sort of please don’t send me to jail vibe. Hopefully.

“Oh!” Dorothy said, relieved. “I was worried there for a moment. I’m very glad to meet you.”

Charlie beamed. Good, that didn’t sound like someone who wanted to throw her in prison. She was a pretty big fan of not getting thrown in prison, these days. Truth be told, she had done a few-ahem-slightly less than legal transactions over the internet involving a certain corporation giving money to a certain charity, with or without that corporation’s knowledge. Whatever, she hadn’t done it in a few years.

“What can I help you with?” She asked.

Dorothy heaved her briefcase onto the glass table, and flicked open the lock. “I represent Mr. Leonard Baum, author of the popular Tales of Oz. I noticed that you have some of his work in your shop, so I trust that you’re familiar?” She opened her briefcase and handed Charlie her business card.

Charlie squeaked. Tales of Oz was one of the hottest graphic novel series out there. All of Charlie’s customer’s (and Charlie herself) loved reading about the magical land of Oz, and it’s badass ensemble.

The woman smiled. “So you have heard of him.”

Charlie nodded. What was a representative of Leonard Baum doing here, in Charlie’s shop? A representative with the same last name as him, no less. Was this his daughter? Neice? Wife? Most fans of Leonard Baum knew almost nothing about the man, much to their dismay. He was a very private man, refusing to meet with his public. He wrote and drew graphic novels from the safety of wherever he lived, and then they were printed and distributed. The only picture of him even floating around was the one from his Wikipedia page, and even that had almost no information.

“What does Leonard Baum want with me?” She asked, glancing down at the card.

“As you might be aware, my client has been known for being…private,” she began.

“That’s for damn sure,” Dean quipped. “Half of us started to think that maybe a ghost was writing his stuff.”

Charlie glared at her employee. “Dean, go reorganize the backroom.”

“I just did that this morning,” Dean moaned.

“Dean.”

He sighed, and set down the shirt he was in the middle of folding. He trailed off into the backroom, and Charlie turned back to Dorothy. She exhaled, and attempted to appear professional looking, or something.

“Sorry about that, continue.”

There was a hint of amusement in Dorothy’s eyes, but she remained ever business-like. “Anyways, yes, my client is a very private man. However, he has decided that he would like to do a book signing, and is interested in doing so at your shop.”

Charlie gasped. “Here? Leonard Baum wants to do his first book signing ever, here?” She couldn’t believe it. Salt & Burn Comics was a tiny, hole-in-the-wall place. They averaged less than five hundred customer’s a week, and that was during new releases. They weren’t the most popular shop in Seattle, and they definitely weren’t the best.

Dorothy smiled again. “My client likes your shop,” she shrugged.

“Wait, are you saying that he’s been in Salt & Burn before?” Charlie said, her eyes widening.

“Plenty of times.”

“I-I’m..”Charlie tried to stutter out some sort of coherent response, but her brain wasn’t exactly communicating with her mouth.

Leonard Baum had been inside her shop. One of the greatest graphic novelist of her generation had not only been in her shop, but liked enough to make his first public appearance there. She couldn’t believe it.

Dorothy seemed to understand that she wasn’t going to be saying anything intelligent soon, so she pointed to her card, stilling being clutched by Charlie.

“Give me a call in the next week or so, and let me know when we can meet to work out the details. We can meet for coffee or something,” she said. She closed her briefcase and picked it off the counter. “Goodbye, Charlotte.”

She turned on her heel and marched away, almost military-like. Charlie stood, gaping. When the hell had Leonard Baum been inside her shop? And who was Dorothy to him? God, she must’ve sounded like a freaking idiot.

“Bye-bye!” She called, just as the door to the shop closed.

Goddamnit. Bye-bye? The woman’s trying to do a business transaction with her, and she’s using baby talk.

Dean poked his head out from the back of the shop. “Hot lawyer gone?”

“She wasn’t a lawyer,” Charlie said, settling back into her stool behind the counter. “At least, I don’t think so. She’s probably like his business manager or something.”

Dean shrugged. “Whatever. She was hot.”

Charlie tried not to turn pink. “I didn’t notice.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean snorted. “You definitely were not all stuttery and blushy the entire time she was here. This was Sarah Michelle Gellar all over again.”

“You promised never to bring that up again!” Charlie squawked. “That was so embarrassing.”

“Hey, I don’t blame you. Buffy’s awesome.”

Spring break their junior year of college, Charlie had packed up the Winchesters and took them to Hollywood.That was back when she still had just gotten the rest of her inheritance money from her parents, and didn’t know what the hell to do with it. So, she took her boys to California for some sight seeing.

She knew that it was possible for them to run into some celebrities, but she didn’t expect to see Sarah Michelle Gellar at the LAX, nor did she expect to melt into a puddle all over her fashionable yet modest boots. Good thing she never mentioned her name, or else she would have probably been delivered a restraining order the next day.

She made the brothers promise to take it to their graves.

“So, you gonna call her?” Dean asked, gesturing to Dorothy’s business card that she was still absent-mindedly clutching.

“Huh?”

Dean snatched the card from her hands, and waved it in front of her face. “Are you gonna call ‘Ms. Dorothy Baum, Assistant to L. Baum, MA in Business’?”

Charlie made a grab for the card. “Gimme that. Of course I am, it’s Leonard Baum. Do you know how incredible that would be for the shop?”

“God, that’d be awesome. Maybe we would be able to afford a another employee.”

Hah, that’d be the day. Don’t get her wrong, Charlie is proud of her shop. Not many people her age owned their own business. Well, she’d done a lot of things most people her age had never done, but still. Salt & Burn currently had three employees: Charlie, Dean, and Kevin. Kevin only worked on weekends and when he wasn’t at class, so most of the time it was just Charlie and Dean, and occasionally Sam when he had free time. Honestly, she probably didn’t even really need Kevin, but the kid knew his geek stuff, and she was pretty sure he didn’t have a life outside of school. He probably needed the shop just as much as she did.

“Right, in your dreams, Winchester. You just want more days off.”

She glanced back down at the card. Why would Dorothy be working for her relative if she had a Master’s in Business? Shouldn’t she be off climbing the corporate tower? For herself, Charlie had barely managed to graduate with her Bachelor’s. It had taken a ton of cheerleading and pushing from both Sam and Dean, but she got it done.

It’s not that Charlie couldn’t handle the workload, it’s more that she had a bit of a um, authority problem, and a procrastination problem, and a working on things that she doesn’t care about problem. Whatever, she was out of school now, and working for herself, and doing what she loved. That’s all that mattered.

Dean went back to work stacking and folding t-shirts, while Charlie went back to her graphic novel. Oh, what a coincidence. She was reading Tales of Oz III: Revenge of The Nome King.

“Hey, even though I looked like a huge idiot, at least I was reading something from her client when she walked in,” Charlie said, holding up the book.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, now she knows you’re a giant fangirl for her uncle or something.”

“Right? Isn’t it weird that she has the same last name as him? I didn’t think he had any living relatives.”

“So who is she then?” Dean asked.

Charlie shrugged. “Nobody knows anything about the guy. For all we know, he has eight hundred kids swarming in the streets of Seattle.” She flipped over the book and traced her fingers over the raised letters of his name.

“Yeah, I’m sure he’s a regular Duggar. Hey do you think he named Dorothy from the books after her?” Dean finished folding the shirts, and started taking the box down.

Charlie shrugged. “Who knows? That’d be pretty cool though, to have one of the most famous characters of the century named after you.”

“Yeah.” He glanced at the stack of t-shirts. “These custom Game of Thrones shirts should bring in business. We should put pictures of them on the Facebook page, or something. Hey, want me to take this out back to the dumpster?” Dean asked, holding up the broken down box.

“You just want to go make moon-eyes at the guy in the office!” Charlie teased.

The tips of Dean’s ears tinged pink. See, Charlie wasn’t the only one blushing like an idiot over cute people.

“Shut up. He didn’t even come into work today,” Dean protested.

Charlie raised her eyebrows. Stalkerish, much?

“No, it’s not like that!” Dean sputtered. “Okay: I only know that because he usually leaves for Starbucks when I’m on my cigarette break. Today, he didn’t leave for Starbucks-therefore, he’s not at work.” He wiggled his eyebrows proudly, as if he had just solved one of Einstein’s unsolved problems. Winchester logic at it’s finest, ladies and gentleman.

Dean had been harboring a ridiculous crush on some accountant at the office across the street for like, a year. He didn’t even know his name, but somehow that didn’t stop him from being completely obsessed.

“So… you’re not going to go out back to dump that, and then turn around and walk a whole block so that you can come in the front entrance and sneak a peek into the office and see if he’s sitting at his little cubicle?”

Please. That was Dean’s daily ritual.

“I just don’t get why he didn’t go into work today. Is he okay?”

“Why don’t you show up at his house and ask, Bizarro?”

“What the hell? I’m not a stalker!” Dean protested. “I’m outta here.” He stomped out the back entrance of the store and slammed the door shut, but Charlie wasn’t worried. Dean was the closest thing she had to family, and they fought all the time. He wasn’t actually upset at her for making jabs about his obsession with his blue-eyed beauty. He’d be back in ten minutes, just as soon as he was done circling the block.

***

Later that week, Charlie was lounging on the couch when Sam burst through the door with a pizza, looking absolutely exhausted. He tossed his keys on the counter before dumping the box of pizza on the coffee table. Collapsing next to her he muttered, “Fuck finals.”

“Rough day, puppy?”

Sam threw a hand over his face dramatically. “I’m drowning in schoolwork.”

Charlie sympathized with him. It was the end of the spring quarter his junior year, and he had to worry about applying to law schools next year. Poor guy.

“Yeah well, when your brother gets sued for being a stalker, you can defend him in a court of law.”

“I heard that!” Dean called from across the apartment.

“Good!” she hollered back.

She flipped open the box of pizza and wrinkled her nose. “Dude, stop getting olives.”

Sam shoved her out of the way, and picked up a slice for himself. “If you’re gonna make me buy dinner, I’m buying it with as many veggies as I want.”

Dean emerged from his bedroom in the apartment, holding a stack of movies. He glanced up at the Back to the Future clock hanging on the wall. “Okay,” he said, holding up the movies. “I think we have enough time for all three.”

Sam moaned. “Dude, I’ve got a final in two days. I don’t have time for the entire journey to Mordor.”

“Family night is family night, bitch. And chill out, it’s Star Wars, not Lord of the Rings.” Dean said scooting his butt in between the pair. “Dude, seriously? Olives?”

“Olives are good!” Sam protested.

“Yeah, for poisoning your enemy!”

Despite their protests, they tucked into their pizza, Sam rolling his eyes while Charlie and Dean dramatically pretended to die miserably due to the disgusting abomination that Sam insisted on putting all over their food.

Charlie and Dean had a habit of ganging up on Sam whenever the three of them got together, but that was just how they worked. Charlie had been friends with Dean since the beginning of community college. Neither of them really knew where the hell they were going in life, and they’ve kinda stuck together ever since. Of course, Dean never did anything without Sam, so the three collapsed into a neat little family.

It was nice, because Charlie didn’t really have anyone else. Then again, neither did they.

Halfway through A New Hope, Charlie dragged the big quilt from out of the closet and threw it over their laps. The brothers ignored the enormous blanket over their legs, but she knew that they liked the warmth, too. It was practically a tradition: eat more pizza than their stomach can handle, bitch at each other, and then snuggle under a blanket.

“Hey, so when are you gonna call that hot lawyer chick?” Dean asked as the credits rolled. Sam jumped up to switch to the next movie.

“Hot lawyer chick?” Sam asked, popping out the disc for Empire Strikes Back. “You met a hot lawyer chick?”

“Back off Sammy, she’s Charlie’s.”

Charlie waved Dean’s defense away. “She’s not like, a thing. She’s not even a lawyer. She just wants to do some business with the shop.”

“Oh yeah? What kind?”

“Well, she works for Leonard Baum, and apparently he wants to do his first public appearance at Salt & Burn.” Charlie said, trying to suppress her excitement.

“Are you kidding?” Sam asked, grinning. She shook her head. “Charlie, that’s so great! Do you know how much business that’s going to bring us? This could save the shop!”

“The shop doesn’t need ‘saving,’” Dean said dismissively. “We’re just in a bit of a rut, that’s all.”

“Guys, you barely made a profit this week.”

“Stop sticking your nose into the finances,” Dean retorted.

“We have to watch movies every time I come over because your cable got shut off! Do you even have wifi, or are you still stealing from the shop’s?”

“It’s not stealing if it’s my shop,” Charlie muttered.

It was true though. Dean and Charlie’s apartment above the shop had no wifi connection, so if either of them needed to use the internet (which was often), they had to go either sit on the stairs leading to the shop, or actually go all the way in the shop.

“My point is that having a famous author do a book signing or something at the shop would really help out,” Sam finished.

“I know,” Charlie admitted. “I just don’t understand why he chose my shop. Dorothy said that he’d been inside the shop before, and that he liked it, for some reason.”

“No shit? Charlie, that’s awesome. See, Salt & Burn is a great shop, we just need to advertize more. Get ourselves out there,” Sam said. He paused, as if he had realized something. “Wait, Dorothy? You’re on a first name basis with her?”

“Yeah, because that’s how she introduced herself to me. I think she’s like, Leonard Baum’s sister or wife or something.”

What was with these two and her love life? God, they were obsessed. She didn’t push them around about their romantic escapades.

Well okay, she did tease Dean daily about his lame crush on the accountant across the street.

She also really hated Carmen and gave Dean a hard time about her. Sure the nurse was sweet, but she always made Dean do stuff he hated, and she was constantly paranoid that he was going to cheat on her with Charlie. Hello, she’s a lesbian, she wasn’t exactly a threat. Michael was kind of the same way and lasted about as long.

Now that she thought about it, she did give Sam shit for Madison, Ruby, and Jess. But hey, it was completely loving and familial teasing. Also, Jess stuck around, so it was fine.

“Nice, dating a famous dude’s relative,” Dean said.

“Dean, I barely even know her. I’ll call her in a few days, but only on a professional level.”

The movie was long forgotten at this point.

“I don’t get it, why? Clearly you’re into her,” Dean protested.

“I don’t even know if she’s into girls!”

“Then find out,” Sam suggested.

“I’m just- I’m not ready guys,” she insisted. “It’s too soon, really.”

Sam cringed, and Dean clamped his mouth shut.

“Sorry,” Dean muttered.

“Yeah, we didn’t think. Of course, take all the time you need. We didn’t mean to pressure you,” Sam said.

She smiled at them, encouragingly. “It’s okay guys, really.” She didn’t want them to feel bad, but honestly, she wasn’t really ready to just jump right into the dating world. It had only been a few months since Gilda left. Charlie had finally gotten over her, or at least at a point in her life where she was okay. She didn’t need to be jumping in the saddle quite so soon.

They understood that. Say what you want about the Winchesters, say that they’re loud, pushy, and rude (and Charlie did say that, often), but they understood her.

***

After three more days of putting it off, Charlie finally convinced herself to call Dorothy. Not that she was nervous or anything. She had been pretty busy. And hey, if she had been nervous, it was only because Leonard Baum was a pretty big deal, and she didn’t want to mess up something that was potentially good for the shop.

She waited until Dean went on his lunch break, and no one else was in the shop before she finally made the call. She plucked the business card off of the corkboard at the front desk, and leaned against the glass table.

“Hello?”

That’s weird. Charlie had kind of assumed that Dorothy would answer her work phone all business-like, but she sounded casual, as if she was just hanging out at home.

“Hey! This is Charlie. Uh, Bradbury, not just some random Charlie. That’s what my friends call me, anyway,” she said. Oh shit, she was babbling. “Um, I’m calling about your client doing a signing at Salt & Burn?” She twiddled the card between her fingers. God she sounded dumb.

“Oh, hi! I’m glad you called, I was getting worried that you were no longer interested in hosting my client,” Dorothy said.

Okay, she really should have called sooner. Her bad.

“No! I would still really like to arrange that, honestly. I just uh, I got busy. You know how it is.” Great, now she sounded like she couldn’t handle her own business.

Dean strolled in, fiddling with a pack of cigarettes and holding a bag of chips with his lips. He dropped both on the front counter and mouthed hot lawyer chick?

Yes, go away, she mouthed back, waving him away in emphasis. Dean pouted, but went to go eat in the back.

“Charlie?” Dorothy asked. “You still there?”

“Yes, hi! Sorry, I got distracted by one of my employees,” she said, cringing. Geez, now she really did sound like a bad business owner.

“Was it Dean?” she guessed.

Charlie was about to ask how she knew that, but then she remembered that Dean had been equally as distracting when Dorothy first visited the shop.

“Yep, it was Dean alright. So, when is Mr. Baum available?”

“My client has an extensive list of details that he would like to be in order before making any sort of plans,” she said, snapping back into her professional persona. “Are you available to meet sometime to discuss them?”

“Oh, sure. Anytime is fine for me,” Charlie said.

She could hear the faint sound of papers rustling, as if she was looking for something. “Hmm… what about at six?”

“Today?” Charlie squeaked. She sort of wanted a few days to like, prepare herself.

“I’ll be honest, I want to get the ball rolling on this thing as soon as possible. I was about as surprised as you were when he approached me with this idea, and I’m worried that he’ll back out of it. The sooner we make it a definite thing, the better. He doesn’t… he doesn’t get out much, and I was hoping that this would push him some.”

The sudden honesty surprised Charlie. She nodded. “Yeah, no, that sounds great. Six sounds great.”

***

The diner was...rustic, to say the least. Truth be told, when Dorothy gave Charlie the address, she had assumed it was going to be a fancy restaurant or bar. In fact, she had been a teeny bit nervous about whether or not she had enough money for a nice place.

Instead, the restaurant was your average run-of-the-mill diner, cheap red leather and bad pinup art and all. It was actually kind of nice, but definitely didn’t fit in with the typical Seattle restaurant scene. It was like being zapped into the suburbs.

Maybe Charlie got the wrong address. Dorothy probably wanted to meet her at a coffee house, or a bar. She pulled her phone out of her pocket to glance at the address, when she heard, “Charlie!”

She whipped her head up, to see Dorothy sitting at a booth, smiling. She was dressed in business casual just like before, and it made Charlie feel self-conscious in her dumb graphic t-shirt. Geez, she should have changed.

“Sorry, I would have dressed more professional but I came straight from the shop,” Charlie said as a way of introduction. She slid across from Dorothy, who already had a soda sitting in front of her.

Dorothy waved the apology away. “Don’t even worry about it. The only reason I have this old thing on is because I had a meeting with the publishers a few hours ago.”

“Oh,” Charlie exhaled awkwardly. “Cool, I uh, I guess. More Tales of Oz stuff?”

Dorothy nodded. “He’s contracted for ten graphic novels, and he has four more to go. Although I’m sure he’ll continue making more after that; he’s obsessed.” She rolled her eyes if she wasn’t talking about one of the most popular comic books in America.

She had to ask. “Yeah, I noticed he has the same last name as you. Is he your, uh…?”

“Father,” Dorothy supplied. “Yes. He needed a manager and I needed a job, so it made sense.”

Charlie ignored the silly wave of relief she felt that Dorothy wasn’t his wife.

“That must be pretty interesting, working with your dad.”

Dorothy pursed her lips. Or not. “It’s a living, I suppose.”

She looked like she had more to say, but the waitress approached them, asking about Charlie’s drink order. By the time Charlie turned back, Dorothy was pulling papers out of her bag.

“I’ll let you decide what you’re going to order, but then I’d like to get down to business,” she said, pointing to the papers.

Charlie wasn’t sure if that meant Dorothy was impatient, so she picked up the menu and started flipping through the pages. Diner food was all sort of the same. Usually when she went out to eat with the boys, they all ordered the same thing: cheeseburger for Dean, salad for Sam, and chicken strips for Charlie.

Chicken strips were probably an unprofessional thing to order at a business meeting, right? She went for the salad.

Then of course, Dorothy said, “I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger and a side of fries, please,” with a wink.

“So… those papers?” Charlie asked, cringing at her own awkwardness.

“Right!” Dorothy said, organizing the stack. “My client is a bit, well…” she muddled it over for a moment. “Eccentric. That’s probably the best word for it. Because of this, he has a few erm, requests.”

“Okay…?”

“I’m sure you’re already aware that he’s a very private man. He’s never done any sort of face time or public appearance in his career. The only thing that he cares about is his art. When he came to me last week and told me that he wanted to do a signing at your shop, well, I was pretty surprised. But when he approached me, he already had this list of requests typed up, and he wanted me to relay them to you, in contract.”

Dorothy handed the list to Charlie, who looked it over. Most of the items on the list were pretty doable. Having plenty of water available for Leonard Baum wasn’t a big deal. Neither was keeping the crowd organized and orderly. She could probably wrangle Sam into standing around as a “crowd organizer,” to get rid of any unruly guests. No pictures either, got it. And hey, It was a weird request, but she could also handle not advertizing the signing on the Facebook page. It would mean less people there for the signings, but if they put up signs at the shop, maybe word would get around.

“Wait, what does this one mean?” Charlie asked, pointing to the paper.

5. Private room for author.

Dorothy glanced at the paper. “Right, that. He really enjoys his space. What he would like is some sort of room that he he can be in before the signing begins, that he can leave right as it starts, and go back into when it ends. I think he just wants to be away from people for as long as possible.”

Charlie nodded. “I mean… we have a back room he can sit in. It’s not that glamorous or anything, it’s just my office and some storage. But I can probably set something up in my office.”

Dorothy smiled, relieved. “I know this is a lot to ask, and I’m really sorry about that. I understand if it’s too much.”

“Oh no! I can totally take care of all this.” She reached for a pen, and scanned the page again. “Where… how much is he charging?” That was the other part that she was nervous about. Dean had put his foot down and insisted that Charlie not pay too much for the guy, but Sam said it was worth it, and that she should just go with whatever they’re asking for.

Dorothy shook her head emphatically. “You misunderstand. He doesn’t want to be paid for this. He just wants the… free publicity I guess? I’m still not really sure why he’s doing this, to be honest. He hates his fans.”

Charlie raised her eyebrows. “Seriously? He has some of the most dedicated fans I’ve seen.”

She shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s also never interacted with them, other than receiving fan mail and posts on his website. He threw a fit when he discovered how huge he had become.”

“Why write the series then? If he hates it so much?”

Dorothy sipped her soda. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. He loves the series. You should see his house. The walls are covered with maps and diagrams that he’s drawn up over the years. He just doesn’t think anyone else understands the series in the same way that he does. It’s his baby, you know?”

No, she didn’t know. It must be an artist thing that Charlie just didn’t get. She can understand loving something so much it gets a little obnoxious (Dean could tell you all about her piles and piles of Harry Potter merch) however, she couldn’t imagine producing something and getting upset when people love it. Weirded out by the crazier fans, maybe. But not hating them.

“Must be pretty crazy to have a famous fictional character named after you,” Charlie commented, for lack of something better to say. Dorothy cringed. Shit, maybe Dorothy wasn’t that big of a fan either.

“Crazy is a good word for it,” she said.

Charlie was about to say more, but the waitress appeared, fumbling with their plates. Charlie could empathize. She had worked in food services before, and it was definitely not her favorite. She’d make sure to leave a nicer tip than usual.

When handed her plate, Dorothy immediately chowed down into her bacon cheeseburger, leaving a ketchup glob adorably smudged across her face. “Sorry,” he said, catching a piece of lettuce as it fell out of the burger. “I was hungry.” She smiled, embarrassed.

Sweet Jesus, this woman was almost as awkward and messy as Charlie was.

“You’ve got a little…” Charlie trailed off, gesturing to her face.

Dorothy’s eyes widened, and she quickly wiped it away. “Oh goodness, that’s embarrassing.”

“That’s okay,” Charlie shrugged. “I only got a salad because I wanted to look professional. Guess it’s kinda too late for that.” She gestured to the mess that was unfolding before her.

Dorothy blushed. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry.” She set down her burger and dusted off her hands. She straightened up in her seat slightly. Then, she pulled the contract out from where it was sitting under her plate, and and handed it to Charlie. “So, interested?”

Having one of the most famous graphic novelist of the year do a free signing in her shop? Even with some of the stranger requests he had, it was an amazing deal. Sam was right, the shop needed help.

She scribbled her name at the bottom. There, it was done. She handed the contract back to Dorothy, who grinned.

“You won’t regret this, Charlie. I think it’ll be really good for both Salt & Burn and for my father. He uh, he doesn’t get out much.”

There it was again. That open honesty that came out of nowhere.

“I take it he’s not just private about his life with his fans?” Charlie asked.

Dorothy nodded. “He’s private about his life with everyone. In fact, I’m pretty sure that other than the guy who delivers his groceries, I’m the only one he talks to. He’s essentially a shut-in.”

Charlie’s eyebrows raised. She knew that Leonard Baum was an eccentric man, but she had no idea that he was that cut off from the world.

“That must be pretty hard for you.”

Dorothy shrugged. “He’s my dad, you know? He needs me.”

Actually, Charlie didn’t know. Her dad had been dead for years. A silence filled after that, partially because she wasn’t really sure what to say to that. She shoveled a few bites of salad into her mouth.

“Can I ask you a question?” Charlie asked after a while.

“Depends on what it is,” Dorothy said carefully.

“Why did your dad name Dorothy after you? You didn’t seem that thrilled about it, earlier.”

Dorothy froze, and Charlie instantly regretted asking.

“Sorry- is that…? You don’t have to talk about it,” Charlie babbled.

Dorothy shook her head. “No, no. It’s okay. Um,” she exhaled. “He didn’t name the character after me. She is me.”

Charlie squinted at the woman sitting across from her. “I’m sorry…?”

“The entire series is based off of my life. Well, loosely. I travelled a lot after college, and while I was gone, he wrote the manuscript for Tales of Oz based off of my letters to him,” Dorothy said. When she noticed Charlie staring, she repeated, “Loosely.”

Without saying a word, Charlie pulled out her phone and stared at her background, which, embarrassingly enough, was a Tales of Oz cover. It featured Dorothy, guns blazing. Her long, dual braids were flailing behind her while she led a squadron of rebels against the Wicked Witch of the West. Dorothy totally kicked ass. She was right up there with Xena and Buffy.

“This is you?” She asked, holding up her phone. “You led a rebellion against an evil witch in the land of Oz?”

Dorothy rolled her eyes. “Obviously not. The details are incredibly skewed, and like I said, it’s very loosely based off of me. Actually, I think the more recent issues aren’t even based off of me at all.”

“Okay, but a wicked witch?”

She sighed. “Not real, as I’m sure you guessed. Usually, he just throws her in there as the antagonist in any adventure. I think originally she was supposed to represent some of the push against the girls’ school I helped run in Zambia during my Peace Corps run. But now she just kinda represents conflict.”

“You were in the Peace Corps?” Charlie asked.

“Oh, don’t look so surprised. I haven’t always been a stuffy assistant. Yes, I was in the Peace Corps for two years after college. I wanted to see the world, and I thought, ‘this is the only way to do it.’ After that, I wanted to see more, so I travelled around Asia and Europe for a few years. I’ve only been back for about six months, actually. ...What?”

Charlie hadn’t realized that she was staring until Dorothy gave her a weird look. She had already thought that Dorothy the person was interesting but now she was suddenly as incredible and kickass as Dorothy the character. Peace Corps? Girls’ school in Zambia? This woman was amazing. Oh god, now she was totally staring.

“You’re just… really cool, is all,” she said dumbly. Cool? What was she, thirteen?

Dorothy blushed, and darted her eyes away. “Oh. I’ve never really thought that, myself. I personally think you’re very admirable, Charlie.”

“Me?” She asked, sitting up straighter. What had Charlie ever done, besides a few minor felonies?

Dorothy nodded eagerly. “I mean, how many women your age run their own business? That’s pretty incredible, if you ask me.”

Well, she wasn’t going to argue with that. If there was one thing Charlie did know about herself, it was that she worked really hard to get her shop up and moving. No matter how badly it was doing, she was still proud of herself for getting it up and running.

“Wait, so tell me about your travels? What kind of crazy stuff have you seen?”

Dorothy smiled. She launched into a story about getting lost in an opium house in Shanghai, that sounded suspiciously similar to the red poppy wars from Tales of Oz, but it didn’t seem like Dorothy really wanted to talk about that, so Charlie didn’t ask.

They ended up staying at the dinner for over an hour after finishing their food, drinking refill after refill on their sodas and munching on leftover fries. The pair swapped stories- Dorothy telling about her wild adventures around the world, and Charlie sharing some less wilder stories about the hijinks she and Dean got up to in college. Eventually Charlie had forgotten that this had originally been set up as a business meeting, until Dorothy looked at her watch.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry, but I actually have to go,” she said, gathering her coat and bag.

“Oh, okay.” Charlie stood up too. The check had long been paid, and the staff were probably getting annoyed at them for overstaying their welcome.

“It’s not that I’m not having a lovely time, but I have to go meet with some copyright people in an hour, and I need to call my father beforehand,” she said apologetically.

“No, no, it’s cool. I should probably get back, anyway. I left Dean alone with the shop, and that’s always a terrifying thought,” she joked. “I’ll uh, see you later?”

It suddenly felt like the end of a date. Should Charlie walk her to her car, or did she take the bus, like Charlie did? Should she just wave awkwardly and duck out? Would they walk out together?

Clearly she was overthinking it, because Dorothy presented her hand to Charlie. “It’s been a pleasure Charlie, I look forward to working with you.”

Charlie shook her hand dumbly. “May the force be with you.”

“The force?” she asked, clearly puzzled. “Nevermind. I’ll call you.” She squeezed Charlie’s hand before letting go, and the warm feeling that followed carried Charlie home.

***

“It sounds you sold your soul to the devil,” Dean said, leaning against the counter. He grabbed a handful of candy out of the bowl Charlie had put out, and tossed them in his mouth. She glared at him, and give him a look that said those are for the customers, dude. He grinned. Charlie wasn’t even sure why he was here, his shift had been over for more than an hour.

Charlie scoffed. “Please. So the man’s a little weird, who cares? It’s going to bring a lot of cash to the shop.” She shoved a pile of flyers at Dean’s chest. “If you’re going to loiter, hang these up, okay?”

Leonard Baum had been pretty explicit about no advertising online, but he didn’t say anything about advertising around the city. She had already sent Kevin with a stack of fliers to hang up around UW, hoping to bring in the college crowd, and the entire shop was plastered in them.

Dean pouted. “Do I have to?”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “Yes. We still haven’t hung any around the town. Go hang some in that coffee place your man is in love with.”

Her surrogate brother rolled his eyes, but it didn’t help hide the shade of pink that was tinting his ears. Charlie smirked. Right, like he hadn’t been planning on hitting his crush’s regular Starbucks.

“Only if you come with me,” he said, shoving half of the fliers back at Charlie. “C’mon, it’s 1:30, and you haven’t taken a lunch break yet.”

A glance at the clock told Charlie that he was right, and she sighed.

“No one’s been in the shop all day, let’s go get fish tacos,” he added.

Once again, he was right. Charlie had sold a Wonder Woman poster to an older woman this morning, but other than that, the shop had been completely deserted. It was a Tuesday afternoon, okay?

She texted Kevin to let him know he’d have to bring his keys when he started his shift at 4, and grabbed her bag. Dean grinned evilly. “Do you know how long it’s been since we’ve hung out, just the two of us?”

“Um, literally every day of our lives? We live together, dork.”

“Okay, but just sitting around playing Playstation doesn’t count.”

“I didn’t know there were rules for hanging out,” she shrugged. She handed her half of the stack back to Dean (he can carry the fliers, thank you very much) and pushed against the glass door of the shop.

“You’re paying for the tacos, bitch, I bought the Chinese food last night,” she called over her shoulder, stepping out into the street, and straight into a solid figure.

“Oh!” Dorothy gasped.

Like the fucking dork she is, Charlie collided into Dorothy, who was knocked flat on her ass with an “oof!” Charlie gaped in horror. Fliers were strewn everywhere, and Dean stood in the doorway, laughing.

“Jesus,” he wheezed, as Charlie scrambled to help Dorothy up. “Way to knock a girl off her feet!” He doubled over laughing, slapping his thigh.

“God, I am so sorry!” Charlie babbled, as Dorothy dusted herself off. “Are you okay? God…”

Dorothy waved away her apologies, laughing. She helped Charlie and Dean chase down the hundreds of fliers that had littered the streets. A few were already flying away, a spiral of hopeless blue. Most of them were swept away in piles, so they could scoop them together and pick them back up. Thank god it wasn’t raining, otherwise they would have been screwed.

“Advertizing for the signing?” Dorothy asked, reading over the flyer. She was dressed much more casual this time. Her business suit had been replaced with a khakis, a white v-neck, and a cardigan. Even her neat bun had been replaced by a long side braid, resting neatly on her shoulder.

Charlie smiled sheepishly. “I hope that’s okay. I know he didn’t want me advertizing on Facebook or anything, but I figured a few fliers around the city wouldn’t hurt.”

Dorothy shrugged. “It probably doesn’t matter. It’s mostly social media that he hates.”

“Him and me both,” Dean said, taking Charlie’s stack from her. “Hey, not that I don’t love seeing you Katniss, but what’re you doing here?”

“Oh, um, I was just coming to see the shop,” she said, suddenly self-conscious. “I didn’t have any particular reason to… I just wanted to take a look around.”

Dean grinned, and Charlie knew that she was in for some absolute bullshit.

“Take a look around? Anything we can help you with?” God, he was doing this on purpose. Charlie’s face burned. Having Dean around was so much worse than having an older brother, because she chose to hang out with his sorry ass. And currently, his sorry ass had decided to embarrass the fuck out of her.

Dorothy scuffed her feet. “No, not particularly. I wasn’t here on business.”

Dean caught Charlie’s eye, and raised his eyebrows. Jesus, he was worse than Sam.

“That means you were here on pleasure then? Great! Me and Red over here were just about to go get fish tacos while we hung up fliers.”

Dorothy scrunched her nose. “Fish tacos?”

“Oh believe me, they’re delicious,” Dean said, throwing an arm around Dorothy’s shoulders. “You haven’t lived in Seattle until you’ve had some fish tacos.”

Like the fucking weirdo he is, he pulled a miniature stapler out of the inside of his jacket pocket, and handed it to Charlie. “Let’s hit all the posts up and down this street, and then grab some tacos.”

Dumbly, Charlie nodded. What the hell was Dean doing? Why was Dorothy even here?

It took them a few tries, but they finally worked out a system. Dean held the stack, Dorothy held the flyers up against the posts, and Charlie stapled them. They even found a few brick walls, to which Dean calmly handed the stack of fliers to Dorothy, pulled out a roll of duct tape from the same pocket he got the stapler, handed it to Charlie, and took the fliers back from Dorothy.

“Why do you even have that stuff?” Dorothy asked.

Dean shrugged. “Always come prepared.”

Dorothy grinned. “I like you.”

Charlie felt her stomach lurch, and she admonished herself for feeling even a twinge of jealousy. Dorothy was a business partner, helping the shop out so her client could do well. That was all. She had no place harboring ridiculous crushes.

And it wasn’t like it was the first time Charlie and Dean both had a thing for the same girl. Hell, they’d been to their fair share of gay bars together. And true, they had possibly once or twice placed bets on who could pick up a girl first, but that was always for the sake of friendly competition. Dean had never gone after a girl Charlie had actually cared about before. He wasn’t doing that now, right?

A few blocks into their stapling, a kid in a Seattle University hoodie stopped at the post they had just finished plastering in fliers and studied one.

“Hey, do you guys work there?” He called. They stopped and turned around. He had ripped down one of the fliers, and was clutching it excitedly. He jogged up to them, and repeated his question. “You guys work here?”

“Yeah, why? You a fan of Oz?” Dean asked.

The kid’s eyes bulged. “Are you kidding? Tales of Oz is my life! I’m the president of the fanclub at Seattle U.”

“There’s a fanclub?” Dorothy asked.

He shrugged modestly. “Yeah. There’s only like fifteen to twenty of us, but that’s just because the semester just started. I’m hoping to reel in some of the geeky freshman. Mostly we just sit around and talk about theories and stuff. I can’t believe Leonard Baum is coming to Seattle! I didn’t even know he was touring.” He pulled out his phone, and excitedly started typing. “I’m totally gonna tweet this.”

“Well, there goes the whole social media ban,” Dean muttered.

“Hey, he only said that you guys couldn’t post about it. Not really your fault if other people do it,” Dorothy said.

“How did you even book him? I’ve never even heard of...Salt & Burn?” He glanced down at the flier again for confirmation.

“Wanna hear a secret?” Dorothy asked mischievously.

The kid leaned in.

“Salt & Burn is the only place in the world he’s doing signings. It’s his first public appearance, and he won’t be doing it anywhere else.”

He scoffed. “Yeah right. How would you even know that?”

Quick as a whip, she pulled out her business card, and held it up like it was an FBI badge. She held it out just long enough for him to read the card, and then she stuffed it back into her wallet. “I think I’m on pretty good authority,” she said.

The kid’s jaw hung open. “Dude, you’re his assistant?” The incredulousness on his face was hard to disguise. He probably felt the same way that Charlie did when she first walked up to the counter at Salt & Burn with the proposal.

She smirked. “Evidently.”

The boy promised to be at the signing and scampered off, tweeting furiously.

Dorothy raised her eyebrows at Dean and Charlie, who were both staring. “What?”

“You’re such a badass,” Dean laughed. “I definitely like you.”

They continued their way through three more streets, until they only had a thin stack of fliers left. “We could ask the taco place if we can plaster these around,” Dean suggested. “Bring in the taco enthusiast crowd.”

They were only a few blocks from the fish taco place Charlie was certain Dean went to at least once a day, so the trio headed towards it.

“Okay, we’re going to teach you the joys of fish tacos,” Dean announced as they grabbed a table. “Sit.” Dorothy tried to hand him money as he stood up to get the tacos, but he refused. “My treat,” he insisted.

“Sorry about him,” Charlie apologized. “He’s...enthusiastic.” If Dean was going to start dating her, she might as well have a head’s up on how crazy he can get. “Especially when it comes to food or his music.” She should probably have a rundown of that too. The last girl Dean dated didn’t like classic rock, and that caused a few issues. True, he didn’t drive his Impala much these days, because anywhere they needed to go in Seattle they could just walk or take the bus, but if they got serious, he might drive her somewhere farther, and if she couldn’t deal with Metallica or Zeppelin, she would be promptly dumped.

Dorothy nodded. “I bet.” She paused awkwardly. “You guys are cute, how long have you two been together?”

Charlie choked. Dorothy thought that she and Dean…? “No, no. We’re not… no. We’re just friends. He’s like a brother to me.”

Eyebrows raised, she said, “Are you sure? You guys seem so close.”

“Yeah, like siblings close,” Charlie reiterated. “He’s uh, not exactly my type. At all.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend,” she said, holding up her hands.

Now, Charlie was nowhere near the realm of in the closet. She hadn’t outwardly lied about her sexuality since middle school. She was a lesbian, that was just apart of who she was, just like anything else. Her name was Charlie, she had red hair, her parents were dead and she was into girls.

However, she also wasn’t very talkative about her sexuality. Sure, there was a rainbow flag hanging in Salt & Burn, and she dragged the Winchesters to Pride every year, but she didn’t casually announce that she was gay if she didn’t have to. Seattle was a pretty liberal city, but she’d run into her fair share of homophobes in her life. Coming out was a process, and you had to do it every day of your life.

“It’s cool,” she shrugged.

“What’s cool?” Dean scooted his butt into the seat, pushing into Charlie. She slid across the seat, making room for him.

“Dorothy thought we were dating,” she said.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, except I’m a Luke not a Leia.” He passed Dorothy her taco. “I got mild salsa, I wasn’t sure if you liked spicy stuff or not.”

Or, Dean could just come out for her. Thanks, Dean.

“Pardon?” Dorothy asked, bemused.

“I’m gay,” Charlie explained. “Like I said, Dean’s not my type.”

“Oh,” was all Dorothy said. Her expression was neutral, but Charlie could see her body tense.

“Is that a problem?” Dean said, crossing his arms. Goddammit Dean, retract your claws, she didn’t need him to go all Mama Bear on her.

“No!” Dorothy said, almost a little too quickly. “Trust me, I’ve been all around the world, if something like a person’s sexuality bothered me, I wouldn’t have gotten very far.”

Dean visibly relaxed, and Charlie almost had to laugh. It wouldn’t have been the first time Dean had beaten someone up over Charlie’s sexuality, but she wasn’t a fan of it happening again. Twice in college was enough.

“Sorry, he’s touchy about that,” Charlie explained.

“I’m not ‘touchy,’” Dean protested.

“You got a little touchy,” Dorothy said.

“Charlie’s my best friend. I’d kill for her,” Dean said. “Sorry if that makes me touchy.”

“Chill out, Banner,” Charlie said, patting his arm. “Eat your fish taco.”

Obediently, Dean chowed down.

It wasn’t that Charlie hated it when Dean got protective. In fact, having two muscular men who would easily take someone out for her came in handy most days, but not when it forced Dean to threaten a girl she may or may not have the hots for.

But with food in his mouth, Dean let it drop, and the conversation flowed easily between Dorothy and Charlie. She asked her if she’d ever been to the United Kingdom, and Dorothy instantly launched into a story about running into Kate Middleton at a farmer’s market. Charlie already knew from the last time they had gotten together that Kate wasn’t the first princess that Dorothy had hung out with.

“Middleton is hot,” Dean declared, mouth full of taco. “Both of them.”

“Pippa Middleton?” Dorothy asked.

It took him a minute to finish swallowing his food, mostly because Charlie had nudged his foot and given him a significant look, but then he shook his head. “No, the uh- the prince.”

“Prince William?” Charlie asked, as if Dean didn’t know full well who he was. Please, he was the one who woke up Charlie to watch the Royal Wedding.

“Yeah, that guy. He ain’t so bad either. But yeah, Pippa’s probably hot too. Charlie?”

But Charlie wasn’t listening. No, Charlie was staring over Dorothy’s head, across the restaurant at the woman with beautiful curly hair, giggling closely with another woman. She flipped her enormous hair over her shoulder, and scrunched her nose cutely at what the woman was saying. They were flirting, Charlie realized.

Gilda.

Dean followed Charlie’s gaze, and let out a soft “oh”.

“Do you want to go?”

Charlie shook her head. “No, we’re still eating, it’s fine.” She held up her half-eaten burrito in evidence. Dean frowned. “It’s fine,” she repeated firmly.

“Who is that?” Dorothy asked, looking over her shoulder.

“Don’t look!” Charlie hissed. Gilda glanced up at them and caught Charlie’s eye. For a moment, she thought that Gilda was about to speak, but then she quickly went back to the woman she was with. Great, now she knew they were here.

“Oh, just some bitch,” Dean said, louder than necessary.

Charlie sent Dean a death glare. “Stop. Seriously.”

“What did she do?” Dorothy asked, worried.

“What didn’t she do?” Dean shot back. “That list would be a lot shorter.”

Okay, he was being a little dramatic. It’s not like Gilda killed anybody.

When Charlie had opened Salt & Burn, she didn’t do it alone. After getting their AA’s together, Dean followed Charlie to the UW. They both had good enough grades, so they figured, why not? So while Dean slaved away reading American lit and annotating Shakespeare, Charlie got her act together and breezed her way through her computer science major. Their last semester there, they both met Gilda.

Gilda was- well, Gilda was perfect. She was beautiful, a whiz at computers, and she snorted when she laughed at all of Charlie’s geeky references. She was head-over-heels before the quarter was over, and they were dating by graduation.

After graduation, the three of them realized they had nowhere to go. Bored, Gilda and Charlie picked up jobs at Microsoft, but it didn’t make them happy. One day, Dean was walking home when he discovered a vacant building with a shop on the first floor and an apartment on the second. He presented the idea as mostly a joke, but running a comic book shop sounded like a dream come true to Charlie.

So they pooled together Charlie’s inheritance money and Dean’s Starbuck’s money, and opened up Salt & Burn. It was a huge risk, because they all still had student loans, and none of them had any experience in owning a business. But they did it, and for a few years, business was booming.

That was, until Gilda decided to dump Charlie, move out of their shared apartment, and sell her third of the store. True, it wasn’t a very large part of the shop, but it was enough that it hurt the shop. The rent got twice as expensive, and they had already been on thin ice. Maybe she sensed that the shop was dying and decided to get out before it got too bad.

“How many months as it been? Four?” Dean asked, fuming. “And she decides to show her face here?”

“Six.”

“What?” Dean asked, tearing his glare away from Gilda.

“Six, Dean. It’s been six months.”

“Has it really been that long? Jesus, time flies. Are you sure you don’t want to go?”

She shook her head. “She has just as much of a right to be here as we do. It’s a public place. Will you stop looking at her like she’s Lady Hitler?”

“She is Lady Hitler!” Dean exploded.

“What did she do?” Dorothy repeated, clearly confused.

“She’s an ex.” Charlie explained. “She used to run Salt & Burn with us and kinda screwed us over when she dumped me and the shop all in one day.”

“What?” Dorothy said, raising her eyebrows. “That’s so shitty.”

“Yeah, tell me about it.”

Dorothy wrapped up her garbage. “That’s ridiculous.” She took a sip of her soda, and set it down with a sense of finality. “Well, one: she sounds tacky. Two: she’s going to regret dropping Salt & Burn when it becomes the hottest shop in Seattle after my father signs there. And three: we just have to make sure that we leave in style.”

“Damn, she’s right,” Dean said. “Gilda’s gonna feel like a fucking idiot now that we’ve got Leonard Baum.”

They were right. Part of why Gilda left was because she was bored again. Bored of the shop, bored of the Winchesters, and bored of Charlie. Having Leonard Baum would bring in lots of customers and make things interesting. It was the kind of thing Gilda would have put her heart and soul into planning.

They stood up, dumped their tray, and headed towards the door, chins held high. Gilda sent them a few glances as they walked past. It was stupid, because Charlie knew she was there. Gilda knew that Charlie knew; they had made eye contact. But somehow, walking out as if she didn’t even see her felt good.

She felt a soft hand slip into hers, and when she looked up, Dorothy grinned and laced their fingers together. It anchored her.

Dean stepped ahead of them to hold open the door, and they left. Dorothy held onto her hand firmly until the restaurant was out of sight and then let go with a light squeeze.

“Thanks,” she said gratefully.

“When you live everywhere, running into exes is kind of impossible. Usually I don’t stay in the same country long enough to see them. So… I can’t even imagine living in the same city. Must suck.”

“Believe me, it does,” Dean said. If Charlie had a nickel for every time Dean ran into an awkward ex-boyfriend or ex-girlfriend in this city, she would have been able to afford an actual cosplay at comic con this year.

Charlie felt a little dizzy. Gilda definitely saw them holding hands, there was no way she couldn’t have. Gilda thought that she had moved on and was with someone else now.

“Can we be best friends now?” Charlie asked faintly.

Dorothy winked. “Play your cards right, maybe.“

***

“Kevin, are you seriously not done mopping? We open in like, two hours.” Dean snapped, rushing around the room frantically.

“There’s a lot of floor to mop!” Kevin protested. He turned to Charlie, who was reorganizing the Tales of Oz display. “What is he doing?”

Charlie shrugged. “He’s nervous, let him yell at you.”

Upbeat jazz music filled the shop, and Charlie realized it was her phone ringing.

“Really? Cantina bar theme?” Kevin asked.

Charlie ignored him and turned away to glance at her phone. Dorothy Baum.

“Hello?”

“Charlie? It’s me, Dorothy. We’re out back. He wants you to let him in.”

“Out back? What-?” she walked across the shop, careful to avoid Kevin’s mopping, and opened the back entrance door. It led to an alleyway, and they only ever really used the door to take out the trash and for Dean to smoke.

But there was Dorothy, standing with an impatient elderly man.

“There is a huge line of people waiting out front-how could this happen?” He asked, crossing his arms. “I said no social media.”

Charlie stuck out her hand for him to shake. “Hello sir, I’m Charlie. Thank you so much for doing this. As for the line outside, I have no idea.”

He was right though, there were at least a hundred people standing outside.

Baum narrowed his eyes at her, unimpressed. “Are you going to let me in to this fine establishment, or what?”

“Oh! Sorry.” Charlie awkwardly stepped to the side to make room. Dorothy sent Charlie and apologetic smile.

Now that Charlie had actually met Baum, she realized that she knew exactly who he was. He had come into the shop loads of times in the past, often walking up and down the aisles grumpily, muttering to himself before buying one or two graphic novels. Charlie had always figured that he was simply a lonely old man who needed something to do during the week. Hell, she didn’t think he was a world renowned writer and artist.

He surveyed the room. “Nice display,” he said, gesturing to the table and book shelf set up with all of the Tales of Oz paraphernalia the shop owned. Actually, Charlie made sure to order extra stuff. She had a whole book shelf of the graphic novels themselves, while the table next to it proudly held the sign “Leonard Baum signing today” next to several action figures and some more books. She also had an entire shipment of Oz posters neatly displayed in a Spiderman umbrella stand. It wasn’t the fanciest of displays, but it would make do.

“Look, she put the display right in the middle of where people will be standing in line to get their stuff signed. That way, they can pick up something from the display, have you sign it, and then buy it on their way out. It’s genius,” Dorothy said.

Charlie grinned. That was exactly her plan. She had planned on taping arrows on the floor to point out to people which way to go, and then directing them past the cash register. She just didn’t think anyone would have noticed.

Baum harumphed. “If they were real fans, they would already own something for me to sign. Ridiculous.”

Charlie opened her mouth to tell him that everyone waiting outside probably owned Oz stuff already, and it was just a marketing ploy to help the shop, but Dorothy was already ushering him away.

“Charlie set up her office real nice for you, Dad. Come on, it’s back here,” she soothed, taking him by the arm and leading him away.

“Wow,” Dean said. “What a dick.”

When the floor dried, Charlie taped down the arrows. Dorothy emerged from the office, looking tired.

“I’m really sorry about him. He’s…”

“A dick?” Dean asked.

“Unconventional,” she finished, raising an eyebrow.

Sam arrived a few minutes later, pounding on the back door. “Charlie, it looks amazing outside. You’ve got customers lined up around the block!”

Dorothy beamed. “Charlie, this is so great!” She leaned in and squeezed Charlie into a hug, leaving Charlie a little breathless. “Sorry, I’m just really excited for your shop, this is really going to help you guys!”

“It’s all thanks to you,” Charlie muttered. “Without you, this wouldn’t be possible.”

The clock struck twelve, and it was time to let in the customers. Dorothy went back to go get her father ready, and Sam opened the doors and let in the people waiting outside, directing traffic like a pro. The people in the shop were all shapes and sizes-Charlie had sort of expected them all to be twenty-somethings like herself, but there were young kids, middle-aged married couples, and even a few elderly people, holding hands with toddlers.

“Excuse me,” Charlie felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned around to a guy about her age, dressed up as the Scarecrow, standing in the line. “You work here, right? Is there going to be a costume contest? We wanted to know.” He gestured to some of his friends behind him, a shy looking Dorothy and a younger kid who Charlie guessed was supposed to be the Wicked Witch.

“Um, no, not today,” she said slowly. Costume contest? She hadn’t even thought of that. Then again, she also estimated that there would only be about twenty people coming in. Sure, there were tons of Oz cosplayers at the last con she went to, but still, people were coming to her shop in costume?

“Oh, so there will be one later?” He asked hopefully.

“Not during this event, but we will be having one at the Halloween party,” she said, thinking on her feet.

“We are?” Sam asked. He was currently standing on the other side of the line, directing people so that they stood in an orderly line.

Well, they were now. “Sure. We’re throwing our big annual Halloween bash, and we have a big prize for the best costume. The geekier, the better.”

The Scarecrow cosplayer grinned. “Dude, that’s awesome! We’ll totally be there.”

Cool, now Charlie had to plan a Halloween party at the shop. At least she had a few months to get ready. And well, it would be a good time to whip out her old Wonder Woman costume…

Dorothy came out from the back, and nodded to Charlie. Okay, here goes nothing.

“Hello everybody, my name is Dorothy,” Dorothy said, grabbing their attention. Oh shit, she really did look like Dorothy. The character, Charlie meant. She had her hair braided in the character’s famous dual braids and was sporting a blue plaid button-up, just like she did in the comics. She had always sort of looked like the comic book character, but in her outfit, she was the spitting image. She flashed a dazzling smile at the people.

“Gee, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,” she said, and the guests laughed. She was totally playing the audience, appearing as Dorothy and saying her catchphrase. Hell, the signers probably thought that Salt & Burn hired her as a professional cosplayer.

“Alright, who’s here to see Leonard Baum?” The guests cheered. “Oh, that’s too bad, because that’s down the street. This is the signing for The Wicked Witch of the West,” she joked. They laughed again. “Well, without further ado… Leonard Baum!”

Everyone clapped and cheered as Baum appeared out from the back room, smiling weakly. He sat down at the table they had set up for him, and started with the first girl in line.

Dorothy skipped over to where Charlie and Dean were standing behind the counter. “How was that?”

Dean grinned. “You were meant for the big screen, baby.”

She laughed. “Yeah, okay. God, I hope he does well with those people.” She glanced nervously over at Baum, who was signing some books. The girl who was getting her book signed chatted away excitedly about how much she loved the series, while Baum signed the inside cover. He didn’t seem to interested in what she was saying, but the fan didn’t seem to care too much.

The girl finished getting her things signed, and Kevin motioned for the next person to step forward to his table. She walked up to the counter, holding her books. “I had him sign some of the stuff at the display, do I pay here?”

“Yep,” Charlie said, taking her books. She checked her out, and by the time she was done, another fan had appeared, babbling excited about how cool it was to meet Baum.

“Is the rest of the shop open, too?” The fan asked.

“Yeah, you can go browse if you want, dude,” she said, handing him his bag. She turned to Dean and Dorothy, who both had a similar expression of hopefulness.

“Shit, this is going awesome,” Dean said. “And we still have fans waiting out the door.” He scanned the line of people waiting, and then froze.

“Dean?” Charlie asked.

“He’s here.”

“Who?” She looked over at the group of people who were standing in line, and she saw what he was staring at. At the back of the line, squished in between a very large man and a handful of cosplayers, was the accountant across the street, sporting his usual trench coat and frown. His eyebrows were furrowed as he read through the latest Oz book.

“Go talk to him,” Charlie said, elbowing Dean.

“No way!” Dean practically shrieked. “I don’t even know his name!”

“Who is that?” Dorothy asked, bemused.

Sam caught Dean’s eye, and strood across the room. He pressed his palms against the glass counter and leaned across to whisper, “Dean, look who’s here.” He jerked his head in the direction of the accountant.

“Oh, not you too!” Dean groaned. “You people are a bunch of animals.”

“That’s Dean’s ridiculous crush. He’s been obsessing over him for the better part of a year,” Charlie explained. “He works across the street at the office, and Dean won’t buck up the courage to talk to him.”

“That’s because it’s weird! I don’t know him, I can’t just walk up to him and say hello,” Dean protested.

“You do it all the time at bars,” Sam pointed out. He glanced at Dorothy. “Hi, I’m Sam, Dean’s brother. I don’t think we’ve officially met. Dorothy, right?”

Dorothy smiled. “Hi, yeah. You go to UW, right?”

Sam puffed out his chest proudly. “Yep. Graduating this year. But I’m looking into other places for law school.”

“Hey, that’s awesome,” she said. She glanced at the older Winchester. “Dean, you’re being a baby.”

“What?” Dean asked, scandalized. “What did I do?”

“Go talk to him! It’s not a coincidence that he’s here today. What’s the likelihood that the guy you’ve been crushing on just happens to be a fan of the author that’s doing a signing at the shop you work at? That’s fate, kiddo.”

Dean’s shoulders slumped, defeated. He really had no excuse now.

“Dean, I’m here everyday, and I’ve never seen him walk into this shop, ever. Now’s your chance. Go ask him about his favorite character or something,” Charlie insisted.

“Fine, fine! I’ll do it! Geez, you people are sick,” Dean moaned. He exhaled, and squared his shoulders. “For those about to rock, we salute you,” he whispered.

“Get outta here Brian Scott,” Sam laughed, giving him the extra shove.

Dean sent a death glare over his shoulder at his brother, but then confidently waltzed over to the accountant. He looked surprised when Dean tapped his shoulder, but then the pair launched into a conversation. The accountant didn’t look like he was that funny of a guy, but Dean must have thought so, because he kept laughing.

Good for them.

“You’re amazing,” Sam said to Dorothy. “We’ve been trying to get him to talk to the guy for months.”

“I’m a big believer in telling someone if you have feelings for them,” Dorothy shrugged.

In Baum’s contract, he made it clear that he could only do signing for three hours, so Charlie had Sam cut off of the line during the last hour. Dean stood with his accountant friend the entire time he stood in line, and then followed him out the door when he left, the pair chatting away. Dean made eye contact with Charlie who nodded. Like she was going to stop him from leaving.

By the time the last person in line was done signing, the shop had already made more money in one day than they had in all of last month. She told any cosplayer that walked up to the counter to keep their eyes out for a Salt & Burn Halloween party.

Things were finally looking up.

Baum stood up, stretched, and in a clipped tone informed Dorothy that they were leaving. Dorothy scrambled after him, waving a last goodbye to Charlie, Sam, and Kevin.

There were still a few customers hanging around the shop, so Charlie couldn’t do much more than wave back. She wondered if she would see the woman soon.

***

Charlie didn’t have to wonder for long, because a hour after the shop closed, the Cantina bar song was playing again, and Dorothy was on the other line, and she wasn’t happy.

“Dorothy, what’s wrong?” She motioned for Sam to turn down the TV.

“Can I just-? I’m sorry. Can I come inside for a while? I know your shop is closed, but can we hang out for a little while or something? I don’t have anywhere else to go.” It took Charlie all of three seconds to realize that she was crying.

“Yeah, I’ll be right down,” Charlie said, already leaving the apartment. Their apartment was on top of the shop, and the only way in was through the shop, so that meant that Dorothy was standing outside of Salt & Burn, crying. She flew down the stairs in the dark and went straight for the glass door of the shop.

Dorothy was standing alone, sniffling and curling in on herself.

“Hey, what happened?” Charlie asked softly.

“The thing about travelling the world,” Dorothy sniffed, “is that you end up having no friends when you finally settle down. I got into a giant fight with my dad. Do you think I could hang out here for a while?”

Charlie wrapped her arm around the crying woman. “Hey, of course you can. And you have friends. Wanna come watch movies with Sam and I?”

She nodded. “Thanks, Charlie. I’m really sorry about this.”

“Stop apologizing, it’s fine,” she said, pulling her up the stairs.

Upstairs at the apartment, Sam was hunched over himself, texting furiously on his phone. His long limbs stretched out, and he looked a little hilarious sitting on Charlie’s tiny couch. He glanced up when Charlie and Dorothy pushed through the door.

“Dean’s still out with that guy. ‘Cas’ or whatever.”

“Good, he needs a little fun in his life. What are they doing?” Charlie paused and considered Dean’s track record. “Wait, don’t tell me.” She gestured for Dorothy to sit on the couch, and headed to the kitchenette to grab a few beers.

“Haha, very funny. No, they’re engaging in pretty wholesome activities. They’re just...hanging out. Believe me, Dean would let me know if they were having sex. He’s never held back before.” He shifted so that he could put his phone back into his pocket and looked over at Dorothy.

“Hey, you okay?”

Dorothy shrugged. “Yeah. I shouldn’t have come, you guys are busy.” She stood to go, just as Charlie came back into the living room, holding beers.

“Going so soon?”

Dorothy stopped. “Sorry, I’m definitely imposing on you guys. You’re relaxing, and I just barged in on you. Sorry.” She started for the door, but Charlie grabbed her wrist.

“We’re your friends. Stay.”

So she stayed.

They popped in Harry Potter (because holy shit, how has Dorothy never seen Harry Potter?) and settled in for a night of wizards and popcorn. Dorothy didn’t give an explanation as to why she was there or what made her upset, and they didn’t ask.

Halfway into Chamber of Secrets, Dean burst through the doors, grinning like a dope. “Lucy, I’m home!” He called, tossing his keys on the counter.

“Hey Ricky Ricardo, how was your date?” Sam asked, hoisting himself of their little sofa.

“It wasn’t a date, asswhip, me and Cas just hung out.” He slumped into the couch where Sam had previously been, and threw his feet up on the table.

“Well, are ‘you and Cas’ going to hang out again? You were gone for nearly six hours,” Charlie said.

Dean shrugged. “Probably. He seems like a pretty cool guy. We don’t have a lot in common but y’know, whatever.”

Sam came back into the living room, shrugging on his jacket. “Dean, I know you. You don’t just stalk a guy for months and then hang out like it’s no big deal. This guy’s important to you.” He leaned over and pecked Charlie on the top of her head. “I gotta go home and sleep dude, I start a new class tomorrow.”

“Alright c’mere you big lug,” Dean said, giving Sam what could only be described as ‘a manly hug’ (two pats minimum). “Get outta here, nerd.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He glanced at Dorothy. “Hope you feel better.”

The door slammed shut, and Dean looked at Dorothy as if he hadn’t noticed she there before. “What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately switching into mother-hen mode.

“I just... got into a fight with my dad. It was stupid,” she said dismissively. “You know how dads can get.”

The look on both Charlie and Dean’s faces were enough to tell her everything.

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t know.”

“It’s cool, you didn’t know.” Dean said. “Hey Charlie, I’m heading off to bed. I have a date tomorrow.” He grinned lasciviously and quirked his eyebrows.

“Hah! I knew it!” she said, smacking his arm. He snorted, and wandered towards his bedroom. “I love you!” she yelled.

“I know!” he called back.

Dorothy stared.

“Star Wars,” she explained.

Dorothy nodded, as if she didn’t really understand, but wasn’t going to question it further.

“So…” Charlie trailed off, and suddenly remembered why she was voted Most Awkward in her senior class. She had never been that great about talking about things, which was part of why she and Dean got along so well. However, Dorothy clearly needed someone right now. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Dorothy sighed. “Well, now I feel like shit because I stormed over here to bitch about my dad, because clearly you and Dean…” she trailed off, not wanting to say it.

“My dad’s been gone for over a decade,” Charlie said kindly. “Dean… his was a little more recent.”

She had a quick flash to the day after the funeral, Charlie and Sam watching in horror as he smashed his Impala with a tire iron outside of Salt & Burn. He’s since then repaired his car, removing any evidence of the car accident his father was in, but the memory is burned into Charlie’s mind.

“Anyway, it’s okay. Talk.”

Dorothy exhaled. “He’s just… he’s kind of…”

“A dick?” Charlie supplied.

“That’s not exactly the vocabulary I’d use, but yes. He’s very closed off. I thought that getting out of the house would be good for him, going somewhere where he’d have to interact with his fans, would help him, but he was so angry when we got home. He did nothing but criticize me for poor planning, and I just got sick of it.”

“You did a great job of planning,” Charlie insisted. “Actually, most of the planning was done by me, so if anything, it’s my fault.”

Dorothy shook her head. She stared at the coffee table, eyes once again full of tears. “I quit.”

“You… what?”

“I got so angry, that I quit as his assistant.” She pressed the heels of her palm into her eyes. “I can’t believe I’m so stupid, that job was all I had.”

Now, don’t ever let it be said that Charlie knows how to handle any sort of delicate situation. When John Winchester died, Charlie comforted her boys by marathoning the Marvel movies. Dean only cried the once, but when Sam cried, she kind of just sat there awkwardly and pet his hair. When Kevin panicked because he didn’t get into his choice school, she researched some of the clubs at UW that he might be interested in and printed them out.

In this case, Charlie decided to blurt out, “Come work for me.”

Dorothy wiped her eyes, smearing some of her eyeliner along the way. “What? At the shop?”

Well shit, time to just roll with it. “Sure, why not? Kevin’s been so busy with school, that we kinda need the extra help anyway.”

“I don’t know anything about comic books. I’ve never even read an entire Oz book.”

Charlie shrugged. “Who cares? You don’t need any knowledge on it to stand at a cash register, right? I know it’s not ideal, but just until you can find something bigger and better to do.”

“I’ll consider it.”

***

A week later, they were sitting in Charlie’s office planning a Halloween party.

“Obviously, it has to be a fundraiser for a charity of some sort,” Dorothy said.

“What? No way. How would we make money for the shop then?” Dean protested. “I’m all for helping people and shit, but not if we have to go into debt over it.”

“Dean, you’re not thinking long-term here. Right now, we’re trying to build up a name for ourselves, not make a quick buck. We charge people five bucks to get in, give the proceeds to a charity, suddenly the party becomes more important.”

“Besides,” Charlie added, “we could have some sort of deal going on that makes money for us and the fundraiser. Like, for the duration of the party, 50% of any profits made in the shop goes towards the fundraiser. That way, people are more willing to buy stuff.”

Dorothy’s eyes widened. “Charlie, you really are a genius!”

Charlie paused, and tried to suppress a smile. “Well, nevertheless, making money is important, but so is getting us on the map. We need to do both with this party.”

Kevin nodded along, typing on the computer. He turned the screen so the rest of the employees could see. “Is this an acceptable ad?”

He had designed a flier, advertising for a Salt & Burn Halloween party. Tickets would be five dollars a person, two if they were in costume. Proceeds would go Susan G. Komen, since October was National Breast Cancer Month.

“Perfect,” Dorothy said, leaning over Kevin’s shoulder. “I think this is exactly what we need.”

Dorothy had been nervous coming into Salt & Burn, but after the first day, she had taken it like a Vulcan to logic. She did her research, and by the third day, could figure out what a customer would want based on what section of the store they were in. She always managed to get people to take home more than what they came in looking for.

Charlie dismissed the staff meeting, reminding them all to get “good costumes, none of that store-bought crap” and sent them out of her office.

Dorothy stayed behind.

“Um, do you need something, Dorothy?”

She chewed her lip nervously. “I wanted to thank you.”

Charlie frowned. “For what?”

“This job,” she explained. “I thought it would be weird, but honestly, I love it here. I knew I had a knack for business, but apparently geeks are my forte.”

Charlie laughed. “Well, you’ve definitely been a big help to the shop so… thanks.”

Dorothy nodded, but didn’t make a move towards to the door.

“Can I… help you with anything else?” Charlie asked. One day, she would learn to not be so awkward around her, but today was not one of those days.

“I’ve already asked you for so much,” Dorothy began.

“Dorothy I told you it’s fine. What is it?”

“Could you help me with my computer?” She blurted. “My laptop- there’s something seriously wrong with it, I don’t know what, and I’m totally lost. I know you said that you majored in Computer Sciences, so maybe you could take a look at it?”

Oh, that’s not exactly what Charlie expected her to ask. Technology came naturally to Charlie. She was fixing her friends’ computers for them since middle school. Hell, working in IT was how she paid off her student loans.

“Yeah, I can take a look at it.”

***

“Atta girl Charlie, I knew you could do it,” Dean says, as they’re closing up the shop.

“I’m just helping her fix her laptop. From the sound of it, she just has a couple of viruses that I can clean up in under an hour,” Charlie shrugged. “No big deal.”

Everyone else had already gone home, leaving Charlie and Dean with the night shift. Charlie had agreed to meet Dorothy at her house to help her fix whatever it was that was wrong with her laptop, after they closed up.

Dean crossed his arms. “Yeah, but why didn’t she just bring it here and drop it off?”

“I don’t know, maybe she didn’t think of asking me to help her until she came into work today?” Charlie said, pulling down the iron gate behind the shop door. It got jammed about 3/4 of the way down like it did almost every night, and she sighed exasperatedly.

“Then she could have brought it to you tomorrow, or next week even. Hell, she could have gone home, picked up the laptop, and dropped it off here if she wanted it done so badly.” He crossed the shop and nudged Charlie out of the way, heaving all of his weight into the gate. It clicked into place, and he smirked.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Charlie said, not meeting his eye. She gathered her bag and keys off the glass counter. “I’m leaving. Bye, I love you.”

“I know!” he called back.

Of course, when she stepped out back, it was pouring. She had heard the light tapping of the rain against the roof of the building, and she’d even glanced outside when she pulled down the security gate over the door, but she hadn’t actually thought about the fact that oh yeah, it was raining.

She’d lived in Seattle long enough, she could handle walking a few blocks in heavy rain, right? Right. She pulled at her zipper of her hoodie and tucked some of her hair into the hood, and she was on her way.

The rain was thick, cold for early October, and it was everywhere. Seattle street were used to the heavy rain, so the sidewalks weren’t flooded, at least. Dorothy had given her her address, so Charlie cupped her hands around her phone so she could read the GPS instructions. God, she should’ve just asked Dean to give her a ride. But he had another date with Cas, so she didn’t think to bother him about it.

By the time she arrived at Dorothy’s apartment, her clothes were clinging to her skin, they were so soaked. Dorothy buzzed her in and raised her eyebrows when she saw Charlie soaked to the bone, shivering.

“Are you out of your mind, why didn’t you have Dean drive you?” Dorothy demanded, rummaging through her closet. “Here.” She tossed her a towel, which Charlie accepted gratefully.

“I didn’t think about it,” Charlie mumbled. “Sorry.”

Dorothy shook her head. “Take off your shoes and socks, you’re going to catch a cold. You know, for a genius, you’re pretty daft.”

Obediently, Charlie, still wrapped in the towel, sat on the couch, and started working on her shoes. “I didn’t realize it was raining this hard.”

She wasn’t sure what to do with her wet socks and shoes, so she just set them in a pile next to the couch. Without a word, Dorothy scooped them up. “I’ll set these on top of the heater. Do you need new clothes?”

Charlie glanced down at herself. Her jeans, for the most part, were pretty dry, but her hoodie and t-shirt were soaked through. “Um, maybe?”

Dorothy started digging through her closet again, which gave Charlie time to actually take in her surroundings.

Dorothy lived in a studio apartment, so everything was open. The white brick walls were covered in paintings, weapons, and random cool artifacts. Actually, the whole apartment was full of shelves with boomerangs, skulls, jewelry, tools, pictures, everything really.

“Are you a pirate?” She blurted out.

Her friend turned around, and barked out a laugh. “No, I’m not a pirate. What the hell?”

Charlie shrugged. “Just curious.”

“Are you talking about all my useless crap? I think you shouldn’t be allowed to travel the world if you have a shopping addiction.”

“It’s all so beautiful.” She stood up, and wandered around the apartment. Dorothy may call it useless crap, but it was gorgeous crap all the same. She grazed her fingertips along a faded Asian painting on a stretched canvas. It depicted a sad looking woman, sitting under a twisted tree.

“I got that in Japan,” Dorothy said, coming up from behind her. She handed Charlie a t-shirt. “We’re probably the same size, right?”

Charlie took the shirt, her eyes never leaving the painting. “Is this… is this real? It looks so old.”

Dorothy smiled. “Yeah, it is. I got it as a gift from an old woman I lived with for a couple of months. She needed someone to take care of her, and she didn’t have any family left to do it.”

“And she just gave you this painting?”

“Yep. She left it for me in her will. I think it’s a family heirloom, but I’m not sure. My Japanese has never really been that great, and her English wasn’t any better. I have insurance on it, just in case, and I keep it in a bank whenever I’m out of town, but... ”

Charlie turned and stared. “You’re amazing. You’ve lived a thousand lives.”

Dorothy (was she blushing?) ducked her head. “I can never stay in one place for long. Living in Seattle for the last few months working for my father, that’s the longest I’ve been anywhere since college.” Charlie wasn’t aware of how close they were standing, until Dorothy reached down and clasped her hand. “I’ve never had a reason to stay anywhere.”

The air felt electric, and underneath the surface there was this…something bubbling. She suddenly felt the impulse to lean over and kiss her. Their bodies were so close that Charlie could feel Dorothy’s body heat radiating onto her cold skin. All she would have to do is-

“I’m gonna go change,” Charlie said stiffly. She held up the balled up t-shirt Dorothy had handed her, and laughed awkwardly. “Don’t wanna catch that cold, you know?”

She excused herself to the bathroom, where she peeled off her still wet clothes. Jesus, what was she thinking? She was here to fix a laptop, that’s it. God, what would Hermione do? Fix the damn laptop and then stare at the artifacts some more. She strung her clothes out in the bathtub and hung them to dry over the shower curtain. The shirt that Dorothy had given her was soft and was comforting to stretch over her skin.

She came back out, toweling her hair. It was a tangled mess, but at least it wasn’t dripping wet. Dorothy was standing next to the painting still, watching it, as if the girl might come to life.

“So… laptop?”

Charlie was right, as usual, and the only real problem with Dorothy’s laptop was a couple of low-key viruses. She set to work, tapping away as Dorothy wandered around her apartment.

“I can’t thank you enough for doing this,” Dorothy said. “There’s some really important stuff on there that I don’t want to lose.”

Charlie shook her head. “It’s fine, really. I’m almost done, actually.”

“Oh.” Dorothy said. “Thanks.”

“Sure. Hey, what’s on here, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Just a bunch of pictures that I haven’t bothered to save anywhere else. And some stuff I’ve written about where I’ve been and stuff,” she said it casually, as if everyone had run a girls’ school in Zambia. As if everyone had met and hung out with Kate Middleton. As if everyone had inherited a Japanese heirloom from a dying widow.

“Dorothy, that’s amazing. You should write a book.”

Dorothy’s eyes darted away. “I would, but…”

“I mean, if writing’s not your thing, you could always have your dad look at it and make it cleaner,” Charlie suggested.

“That’s just it! I don’t want his help,” she sighed. “Truth is, I love writing. I’ve already got hundreds of pages on everything I’ve done saved to my laptop, but if it got published, people would only read it because I’m Leonard Baum’s daughter”-she made a face-“or worse, because I’m the ‘real’ Dorothy. I would never be known for just being me.”

Charlie didn’t know what to say to that. She was right, after all. It was hard to get work out there, and the only way to ensure that it would become known would be to use her father’s fame as a stepping stool.

When the silence got to much to bear, Charlie did what she always does when things get awkward: blurts things out.

“Did you know that Tales of Oz has a really big queer following?”

“Excuse me?” Dorothy looked up in alarm.

Oh yeah, sometimes Charlie was so isolated in her little gay geek community that she forgot that that wasn’t something people were used to hearing.

It was true though. Ozma, the beautiful and mysterious fairy queen of Oz, aided Dorothy with her rebellion against the Wicked Witch, and all of the other villains in Oz. They fought constantly, arguing over methods and morals, but in the end, always stayed allies. A lot of people felt that Dorothy was staring at Ozma’s beauty in some of the panels, and personally, Charlie agreed. They were right up there with Kirk and Spock, as far as she was concerned.

“Uh, it’s an umbrella term. Like I know historically it’s been used as a slur but now most people use it to mean ‘non-straight,’” Charlie babbled.

“Oh,” she said again. “I’ve never heard it used like that.”

“Yep,” Charlie said. Her embarrassment kept her eyes glued to the laptop screen. That didn’t stop her from running her mouth, unfortunately. “It’s mostly because of Dorothy and Ozma. A lot of people picked up on some subtext there, and then there’s the whole rainbow thing-”

“The rainbow is a metaphor,” Dorothy interrupted sharply. “And there was nothing between Ozma and I.”

Charlie practically snapped her neck from how fast she turned to look at Dorothy. “Wait, Ozma was real too?”

“Yes, but she would never- I would never…” Dorothy trailed off, making wild gestures. Her eyes were glazed over, staring into space as if she was looking for an explanation.

“Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” Charlie said, handing the laptop back. “Sorry I brought it up.”

“It’s fine,” Dorothy said. She set her laptop on the coffee table. “I’m not homophobic.”

“I know,” Charlie said kindly.

Dorothy blew out a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. She shook her head, a silent argument with herself. It took Charlie a moment to realize that she was crying.

“Oh god, I’m sorry. I should go, I’ll go.” Charlie leapt up from her seat. Wait, where did Dorothy say her shoes were again? Oh Christ, Charlie hated it when people cried.

“Please don’t go,” Dorothy said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Stay.”

So she stayed.

“You know what makes me feel better when I’m down?” She asked, pulling her iPad out from her messenger bag. “The Hobbit.”

“I’ve never even seen the movies before.”

“I have the books right here,” she said, holding up the tablet. “If you’re going to be working at a comic book shop, you should know the mantra-’the book is always better’.”

“Are you going to read it to me?” Dorothy sniffled.

“If you want me to,” Charlie said, coming back to the couch. “I read it to my mother every time I visit her.”

Dorothy tilted her head in confusion. “Your mother? I thought she-”

“She’s in a coma at St. Francis. I’ve been reading to her since I was twelve.”

Dorothy stood and grabbed a blanket from her closet and settled down into the couch again with Charlie. “Okay, go.”

Charlie smiled, and unlocked her iPad.

“‘In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort…’”

***

When Charlie came home the next morning, Dean was sitting on the couch in his boxers, eating cereal and watching The X-Files.

“Look at you, working that pride stride. I feel like a proud mother!” He grinned.

Charlie rolled her eyes. “That’s my t-shirt, you dork.”

Dean glanced down at the baggy Transformers t-shirt he was currently sporting. “Nuh-uh, really? I swear it’s mine.”

“Nope, it’s mine. I got it after I slept with Lisa our sophomore year.” She dumped her bag in a corner and shucked off her shoes. “What episode is this?”

“You slept with Lisa?” Dean asked, incredulously. “What the hell? I slept with Lisa.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve shared a girl. And I’m pretty sure that that shirt wasn’t even Lisa’s originally. I think it was one of her ex’s before me.” She slumped onto the couch. Dean gagged, clawed at the thin fabric, but made no attempts at changing the shirt. “Oh, and before you ask,” she added, “Dorothy and I didn’t have sex. It just got late, and I didn’t feel like getting mugged.”

Dean snorted, but she was telling the truth.

Last night, she read The Hobbit to Dorothy until they both fell asleep on her couch. She woke up, curled around Dorothy like a cat. The adventurer had a thin smile on her face as she slept, and grinned up at Charlie groggily when she woke.

They ate cheerios and drank coffee, before Charlie decided to walk home.

It was one of the best nights of Charlie’s life.

She was going to protest Dean’s “proud mother” moment, but in walked Castiel, sporting nothing but a frown.

“Dude!” Charlie moaned, covering her eyes.

“Shit Cas, cover up, buddy. My roommate’s home.”

“Apologies, I didn’t hear anyone come in. Wake me up around noon,” the man rumbled, and holy God was his voice deep.

Charlie waited until Dean told her the coast was clear, to give Dean her very best shit-eating grin. “You suck! You’ve been making fun of me, when you’ve got your stalkee here! I need all the details, well, not all the details. Keep it PG. Are you guys official? Like, Facebook official official?”

Dean turned bright red, the same way he always does whenever Sam or Charlie tease him. “So, apparently he started reading Tales of Oz when he saw the fliers, because he wanted an excuse to get into the shop.”

She gasped, and smacked him on the arm. “What did I say? I told you all you had to go do was talk to him, didn’t I? God, you’re the worst.” She picked up Dean’s laptop off of the coffee table, and stuck her thumb drive in it.

“What’re you doing?”

“Nothing,” Charlie said, a little too quickly. “Just a little project for Dorothy. That she doesn’t know about.” She gave Dean a significant look. “And you’re not going to tell her either, right?”

Dean held up his hands. “Hey, whatever you say.” He glanced over at the screen, and watched for a few minutes. “She’s going to kill you.”

“Not if it works,” she said.

***

Two weeks later, Charlie received an email:

DB Gale,

Let me start off by saying, we love the book. Excellent memoires. It’s all very real, very rich. I couldn’t put it down, actually. I laughed, I cried, blah, blah, blah. It’s good. I think that your book will make it big. I would love to have you call me in the next week or so to talk about a publishing deal.

Thanks,
Meg Masters
Smoky Publications

***

Charlie wasn’t kidding about Dorothy fitting right in to Salt & Burn. In fact, she woke up one morning and could hear the faint sound of Dorothy chatting with a customer underneath her. It was always weird on the mornings that she didn’t open the shop. It’s like sleeping on top of a hive of nerds. Still in her pajamas, she sat on the steps leading up to the apartment with a bagel, and listened to the buzz of the shop.

“Actually, I just watched it last week, and the quote isn’t ‘Luke, I am your father’ but that’s pretty close. The real quote is ‘No, Luke, I am your father.’ You see, there’s an emphasis on the ‘am,’ because they were already previously talking about Luke’s father, and Darth Vader is correcting him.”

Was that Dorothy? Correcting one of her customers about Star Wars? The same girl who bragged about never having seen it up until last week? Was Charlie dreaming?

Dean snorted. “Who cares? It’s the appeal of the quote. It’s a classic.”

Oh god, it was even worse. She was correcting Dean about Star Wars.

“I don’t care, it’s wrong.”

Charlie rolled her eyes, and pushed herself off the steps. “Kids, kids, the nerd gods love you both equally.” She munched her bagel and raised her eyebrows, as if to say are you really arguing about this? “Also, you’re both right. Dorothy’s got the quote right, but it’s too late now to change the general population’s memory.”

Looking around, she realized that there were about five other people standing at the counter, not including Sam and Kevin, weighing in on the argument as well. She still wasn’t used to the shop actually having people in it, the entire time. She was still wearing one of Dean’s band shirts, and a pair of Superman pajama pants. Charlie wasn’t kidding about Salt & Burn being a hive- Leonard Baum’s signing put them on the geeky map. Everyday people commented on how they heard about Salt & Burn Comics from a friend who went to the signing, or how they hadn’t even known there was this great little shop until they read about the signing on Twitter, and will there be another one soon?

Douchebag or not, he saved the shop.

“I’m going back upstairs to eat my bagel, could you please keep your fascinating argument down? I could hear you from my bedroom.”

Trailing back up the steps, she heard one of the guys standing around with Dorothy and Dean ask, “Whoa, is she single?”

“She’s gay,” the Winchesters said at the same time. God, it was creepy when they did that.

When she came back down, this time more appropriately dressed, the hoard of customers had dispersed. Kevin was walking around, helping some kids, Sam and Dean were both sitting behind the counter, and Dorothy-

Dorothy was standing in a corner of the shop, speaking quietly into the phone. She wasn’t crying, but she looked pissed. She argued in a hush tone, clearly struggling to keep her voice in a whisper.

“Charlie, you’re not even on shift right now,” Sam said. “Go have some Charlie-time.”

Dean made a face. “Dude, gross.”

“Dean, that’s not what I meant, Jesus!” Sam said, returning with his own, equally-as-bitchy face. “I just meant she should go shopping, or watch a movie or something. Not worry about the shop.”

Ignoring the bickering, Charlie leaned in the counter. “Guys, what’s up with Dorothy?”

The brothers stopped, as if they hadn’t noticed she was gone. “Don’t know, she’s your girlfriend,” Dean said, frowning. “Go see if she’s okay.”

Charlie opened her mouth to say that Dorothy wasn’t her girlfriend, but stopped when Dorothy angrily slammed her phone shut, and holy shit she needed a new phone if she was able to slam it shut.

Carefully, Charlie approached her. “Dorothy, are you okay?”

She exhaled, clearly irritated. “Can I take my break? Is that okay?”

“Yeah,” Charlie said softly. “I’m not working right now, do you want to go on a walk with me?”

Dorothy smiled. “Yeah, I would like that.”

It was surprisingly warm for mid-October, so she didn’t grab a jacket. Dorothy had on her usual leather jacket that she wore, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail.

She didn’t have a set destination, so she just walked. Dorothy didn’t know the city as well as she did, so she blindly followed.

“I’ve always loved big cities,” Dorothy said.

“Yeah? I’ve only ever lived here.”

Dorothy nodded. “Yeah, there’s a certain sort of privacy to it, that you can’t get anywhere else. I grew up in a small town, where everyone knew everyone. But here, you don’t know anybody. Maybe that’s why my father loves it so much.”

“Was that who you were arguing with?”

“Yes. It’s the first time he’s spoken to me since I quit two months ago.”

Charlie blinked. “Really?” For some reason, she had assumed that Dorothy and her father were talking regularly. He had been so dependant on her before, that it just made sense that they were still talking, even if Dorothy wasn’t working for him anymore.

Dorothy shrugged, staring at her feet. “He’s really angry with me. Worse than when I left home.”

“I thought he loved that you left? That’s why he wrote all those stories based on you.”

She shook her head. “Nope. He was livid. How dare I leave him, when he needs me? Honestly, I think he wrote Tales of Oz to help fill the void. I was the only person he ever talked to. He’s been a shut-in since high school. I don’t even know how he managed to pack up and move to Seattle. It must be the privacy thing. The only places he ever leaves the house for is your shop, the grocery store, and the movie theater. I hated it. One day I was in Paris, and I saw a poster of me, hanging in some shop. He had published his comics about my life without even telling me. So I came here, because I knew he missed me too much.”

They turned the corner, and down the street, the glowing red lights of Pike Place Market sat against the sea. Charlie wondered if Dorothy had ever even been to Pike Place. Making the decision for them, she crossed the street, heading straight towards the bustling market.

“So what does he want now?” Charlie asked.

Dorothy laughed bitterly. “What do you think? He wants me to work for him again. But I can’t. He was so awful, you know? I had to do everything, but everything I did was wrong. I can’t go back to that. So I told him. I said ‘I’m working at Salt & Burn now, and I like it here.’”

Charlie tried not to feel good about that, but it was really hard.

“He went on and on about how much I’ve wasted my potential. How I have my Master’s, so I need to be putting that to work, not selling toys. But I don’t care about that. This is a new adventure to me, and like every other adventure I’ve been on, he’s trying to stop me.”

They were standing in Pike Place now, near a flower shop. She had to do something, but what? Charlie had always been bad in these sort of situations. Last time Dorothy had been upset, she offered her a job. And true, business at Salt & Burn was booming, but they didn’t necessarily need the extra employee. Charlie turned, and wordlessly, picked out a bouquet of wildflowers.

“Here,” she said, her face burning.

“Oh. Um, thank you.” She accepted the flowers while Charlie paid. “What is this for?”

Charlie shrugged. “You’re upset.” She took her change from the smiling Chinese man. “You’re upset, and I don’t like that. I don’t know, they’re wild, like you.”

Dorothy grinned at the flowers. “That’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me. Thank you, Charlie. They’re beautiful.”

They continued down Pike Place, taking in all the warm smells and loud musicians. There were drummers lined up on the street, playing fast beats. Food from every country in the world sizzled out into the streets, making their stomachs growl. Dorothy was right, there was some sort of beautiful privacy in a big city. You could get lost here.

She liked getting lost with Dorothy.

“I have to tell you something,” Charlie confessed.

Dorothy looked up. “What is it?”

Charlie sighed, and pulled her out of the street, so that they could talk. She was going to wait until the Halloween party to tell her about the publisher, as a thank you for everything she’s done for the shop, but she couldn’t wait. She pulled her keys out of her bag, dangling the thumb drive. “This,” she said, “is your book. The one you’ve written about your travels.”

Dorothy’s eyes widened. “Why do you have that?” She asked quietly.

“I stole it from you, the night I fixed your laptop.”

Dorothy’s eyes blazed. “Why would you do that? Did you read it?”

Charlie shook her head. Before, she had assumed that this would be a pleasant surprise for Dorothy, but now all she felt in her stomach was guilt. “No, but I sent it to a publisher.”

She looked stricken. “You what? Charlie are you kidding? How could you do this to me?”

“They loved it,” Charlie said weakly. This was going downhill so fast. She thought Dorothy would thank her, and they would celebrate. “They want to publish it.”

“How many people read it?” she snapped.

Charlie shrugged. “At least one. I assume more, though, if they’re trying to make a deal with you. Do you… do you want to contact them?”

“Charlie, this is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. They only like it because they think it’s another version of Tales of Oz. But I’m not that Dorothy. I’m not her.”

Charlie shook her head emphatically. “That’s why I used a pseudonym! DB Gale. They have no idea it’s you. And you can change stuff to make it even more anonymous. People are going to read your book because you’re interesting, not your father.”

Dororthy stared at her. “I can’t… I don’t even know what to say. I thought I could trust you. Now everyone is going to know.”

“Know what?”

“God… just. Nevermind. Stay the hell away from me.”

She shoved the flowers at Charlie, turned on her heel, and left Charlie standing in the middle of Pike Place, confused and alone. Hundreds of people, and not a single one glanced at her.

The privacy of a big city is suffocating when you’re alone.

***

It hit Charlie hard, and that’s saying something.

Dorothy texted Dean, to say that she’s going back to working for her dad. Charlie fell apart. Netflix and cereal became her best friends. The shop’s customers were waning, but it was still much better than before. They didn’t need her to sit at the shop all day, watching over their shoulders as they did their jobs. She could afford to take a few days to just… chill.

“Okay, this is bad.”

Charlie glanced up to see Cas, Dean, and Sam, standing in the middle of the living room. She rolled her body on the couch so that she was facing away from them, staring at the ugly green fabric. She hated their couch. Why did they still have it? They only have it because she and Dean bought it when they were poor college students. They weren’t poor college students anymore, they were poor adults. They should get a new one.

“I can do whatever I want,” she mumbled indignantly. She said it more to the couch than to her boys, but it was a message to the world, the most.

“Are you ever gonna explain what happened?” Sam asked.

Dean sat at the other end of the couch and Charlie shoved her feet under Dean’s butt. He shifted so that they were both comfortable. “Hey, you leave Charlie alone, okay Dr. Phil? Not everything needs to be talked about. Sometimes you just gotta veg out in front of the TV.” He patted Charlie’s leg comfortingly. Thank god for Dean, he understood.

“Dean, we can’t just let her lie around the apartment all depressed,” Sam argued.

“Yeah we can. Pop in Wrath of Khan or get out.”

Oh great, she could cry about other things instead of her own problems.

Sam sighed, but started searching for the DVD, regardless. Charlie rolled over again so that she could see the TV, and pulled her legs up to her chest. She glanced Cas and looked at the seat next to her pointedly. He took the hint and sat down in between Charlie and Dean.

Seeing that his spot was taken, Sam grumpily sat in front on the floor in front of Charlie, where she was delighted to sit up and run her fingers through her hair. Sam pretended to be annoyed, but he let her play with his long mane nonetheless. Dean tried and failed to be subtle, when he put his arm around Cas, and the two folded in together. Charlie smiled. She had her friends. She was okay.

They stayed silent for the duration of the film, soaking in the silent togetherness. When they got to the scene where Spock dies, Dean glanced at Charlie.

“What?” she asked. She wiped her eyes. Goddammit, she cries every time they watch this. Maybe that was Dean’s evil plan. Get her emotional over dead Vulcans, and then pry into her personal life.

“Okay, I said I wasn’t going to talk about it.”

“Then don’t.”

Dean sighed. “I won’t. It’s just… I thought she was the premium package, dude. She was the Leia to your Han. I kept waiting for you to come home and announce that you kissed the girl, and you never did. And now this. I just don’t understand. I thought what you had was rare.”

“Rare?” Charlie asked.

He shrugged. “Y’know. Somethin’ pretty special. Limited edition. No, mint condition limited edition. Like your Wonder Woman comics. When you got something like that, you don’t just give it away. You box it up, ‘cuz it’s special.”

Sam snorted. “You think Charlie should have put her in a box?”

They never used her name anymore. She was just ‘her.’

“Shut up, asshat, you know what I mean. When you got something like that, you hold on to it.” He caught Cas’s eye, and they shared a private look. They gripped each other’s hands, and Charlie’s heart ached.

“She’s straight,” Charlie said.

For the first time since the conversation had started, Cas spoke up. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but wouldn’t you rather have a part of her in your life, than none at all?”

Goddamn it, he was right. Charlie nodded.

“Then you gotta do something about it,” Dean said.

***

Knock knock knock.

Oh Jesus, she was actually going to puke. She should’ve called first, texted, smoke signaled, something. Dorothy had no idea that she was coming over. She should’ve at least come up with some sort of plan on what she was going to say.

She had actually gotten out of bed. She had put on clothes that she for sure knew weren’t any of her exes or Dean’s, showered, brushed her hair, and even attempted a little makeup.

When she had emerged from her bedroom, Dean had turned around from where he was standing in the kitchenette, and whistled. “Whoa, look who decided to roll out of bed today.”

Charlie grinned. “That makes two of us,” she’d said, gesturing to Cas, who was curled up on the couch, dead to the world.

Dean shrugged. “He says I snore.”

“So you kick him out of bed?”

He smiled to himself. The kind of suppressed smile he does when he’s afraid to let himself feel happy. “Nope. He just says that he doesn’t want to go home yet. He uh, wants to wake up with me.”

Castiel had been staying over at their apartment more and more. They’d only been dating for a couple of months, but for Dean, that was a big deal. Charlie had woken up to dozens and dozens of people in her apartment with sex hair and a dopey grin, but it had never been Dean himself before. This one was going to last, she decided.

Good.

“I’m going to Dorothy’s,” she announced, zipping up her hoodie. “I should at least invite her to the Halloween party, right? She deserves that much.”

“Go for it, kid,” Dean said, reaching out to squeeze her arm. “Go get the girl.”

So she did.

And now, here she was, nervously bouncing back and forth as she heard Dorothy move around in her apartment, about to answer the door.

“I’m coming!” She heard her friend hollar.

The door creaked open, and Charlie tried not to gape. Dorothy was a mess.

Her usual neat updo or braid had been replaced with a messy bun, slumping sadly from the top of her head. Her eyes were cloudy and goopy, with traces of last night’s makeup staining the underneaths of her eyes, right where dark circles were forming. She was wearing sweatpants and an old t-shirt that had a logo that definitely wasn’t English, and she when she saw Charlie she frowned.

She was beautiful.

“Uh, hi,” Charlie squeaked. “Sorry to bother you.”

Dorothy squinted irritably. “I have a client over.”

Charlie felt a twinge of disappointment. A client? Was Dorothy someone else’s assistant now? Did her reputation as the assistant to one of the best selling graphic novelists get her a new job? Or, was she telling the truth when she texted Dean, and was back working for her father.

“Oh,” Charlie said awkwardly. She held up a flier. “That’s okay, I’ll go. I just wanted to uh, invite you to the Halloween party. It wouldn’t have happened without you, so I just wanted to make sure-”

“Dorothy? Who is that?” A voice called from somewhere in her apartment. Oh shit, she wasn’t lying about having a client over- Baum.

“Just give me a sec, Dad.” She glanced at the flier Charlie was still holding. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“Dorothy, is that Charlie? Invite her in!” Baum called out. Dorothy sighed, and held the door open wider.

“Come in, I guess.”

Leonard Baum was sitting at Dorothy’s kitchen table, surrounded by paperwork. “We’re just finishing up. New book in the works.” He winked. Dorothy sighed again, and sat down next to her father.

“Are you sure? I can go. I just wanted to invite Dorothy to the Halloween party she helped plan.” Charlie stood in the doorway, unsure of how much she was actually invited in.

“No, no. Sit down. How is the shop?” He gestured to Charlie to join them at the table, so reluctantly, she sat down next to Dorothy, across from Baum.

“It’s fine, sir. Business is doing well thanks to you and Dorothy.”

He nodded. “Dorothy tells me she quit.”

Charlie smiled stiffly. “Yeah, she did. It was her choice, though.”

Baum laughed. “A stupid choice. She shouldn’t have been working there in the first place. She should have just bought the place from under you, like I told her to. Stupid girl.”

Dorothy cringed, but stayed silent.

“Anyway, she’s back dealing with all of my publishing stuff now. She told me about how you tried to publish her novel. Isn’t that funny? She thinks that just because her old man is in the business, that she can just wiggle her way in.”

Charlie gaped. She had been dealing with bullies her entire life-from elementary school to college, but she’d never heard it from a parent. Sam and Dean had never given her many details about their father, but she knew enough to know that it wasn’t pleasant.

“How dare you talk to her that way? Dorothy is amazing.”

Baum balked. “Excuse me?”

She crossed her arms, and glared across the table at the man. “Without Dorothy, you wouldn’t even have Tales of Oz. You’d be the same unheard of author that no one cares about. Believe me, I’ve read your non-Oz comics, they suck. Show a little respect to the person keeping your career afloat.”

He frowned. “And who are you? Some little shop owner who can barely keep her head above the water? You’re nobody.”

“Oh yeah? Well at least I’m not a dick.” She stood, and stomped towards the door. Before she left, she turned and looked back at Dorothy, who was sitting at the table still, gaping. “Dorothy, I’m sorry. I really am. I shouldn’t have invaded your privacy. I think you’re amazing, and I hope someday everyone else realizes it too.”

She slammed the door behind her.

Dorothy didn’t deserve that, she didn’t. She would probably never talk to Charlie again, and although it broke her heart, at least she could be happy. She had deleted the email from the publishers and had planned on telling Dorothy, but it didn’t matter anymore. After telling off her father like that, why would she ever want to hear what she had to say?

Halfway to her apartment, her phone buzzed.

Dorothy Baum:
I’ll be there.
Received: 10:37am, October 24

***

“Cas, where the fuck is your costume?” Dean laughed.

Castiel looked down at his regular street clothes, and then back up at Charlie and the Winchesters, who were all dressed up.

“I wasn’t aware that costumes were required.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Babe, it’s a Halloween party. At a comic book shop. You gotta wear something.”

“I don’t own any costumes,” he complained.

Dean grabbed the man by the arm, and dragged him upstairs to the apartment. “We’ll find you something, don’t worry.”

Charlie glanced down at her own costume. Dressing up as a trio had been an important tradition for the Winchester/Bradbury clan, and this year was no exception. Dean had called them down to the mall one day last month when he discovered that a store was selling custom made patches, and insisted that they go as the Ghostbusters. Some creative painting and rebuilding of a few used vacuum cleaners later, they were the Ghostbusters, Seattle division.

The doors opened in twenty minutes, and Castiel had arrived in his usual work clothes. Maybe Dean had some leftover makeup from when they went as zombies last year and could splatter some blood on his face.

“What if she doesn’t come?” Charlie asked, turning to Sam.

He shrugged. “She will.”

An hour later, the shop was filled with about a hundred people, wearing costumes from every facet of pop culture imaginable. Eventually, they had to start turning people away. Dean came down with Cas, wearing Dean’s Spock costume from last year. All Dean had really done was put the blue shirt on him, given him the fake ears and drawn on some eyebrows that looked suspiciously like they were done with Charlie’s good eyeliner.

Whatever, she’d get back at him for that later. The pair were pretty invested in each other, and Jess had just arrived in a sexy nurse costume, so Charlie wandered around the party to schmooze with the guests.

She was really happy with how the party turned out. Classic Halloween songs were blasting, people were dressed as every character in the book, and a long line was starting to form at the cash register. Charlie caught Kevin’s eye, who was running the counter. The college student, who was dressed as Luke Skywalker, gave her a thumbs up.

Things were going well.

“Am I too late to the party?”

Charlie turned around, to see Dorothy, clad in a Gryffindor uniform.

“Dean said Hermione was your favorite, so I looked all week. Do you know how hard it is to find a conservative Hermione costume? I started reading the book, and I think she certainly wouldn’t have dressed the way that Party City seemed to think she would have-”

She was cut off by Charlie pulling her into a big hug.

“Does this mean we can go back to being friends again?” She asked. “I really hate having you mad at me.”

Dorothy smiled. “We’re good,” she promised. “I… I was really angry, but anyone that could stand up to my dad like that must have my best interests at heart.”

Charlie nodded. “It was a douche move. I shouldn’t have gone through your stuff like that, and I definitely shouldn’t have stolen your writing.”

Two girls dressed as Dorothy and Ozma brushed past them, clasping hands. Dorothy closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“Sorry,” Charlie said. “I wasn’t lying when I said that the queer community loved the lesbian subtext.”

Dorothy mumbled something that Charlie couldn’t quite hear over the blasting music. “What?” she asked. Dorothy mumbled it again, but the cheesy Halloween music made it difficult to hear. A girl in a TARDIS dress bumped into them and apologized before walking away. Hey, at least they could say that the party was crowded.

Charlie pulled Dorothy by the wrist out the back door, to the alley. “Sorry, I just couldn’t hear you in there,” she said, pulling the door behind her.

“It’s okay, it’s loud.” Dorothy said. “Can we… can we talk?”

Her stomach dropped. Why did that sound eerily like the beginning of a breakup speech? Charlie nodded and shrugged off her proton pack. She sat on the steps of the fire escape.

Dorothy exhaled shakily, and sat down next to her. “So, I have to make a confession.”

“Okay,” Charlie said, gesturing for her to go on.

“The subtext is uh,” Dorothy paused, looking for the right words. “Ozma and I… we were… we weren’t, but sometimes I thought that maybe we were.”

Charlie stared at her. “Are you saying…?”

“That I am probably ‘queer,’ as you put it before. I don’t think I’m a lesbian, but I was very much in love with Ozma.” Dorothy was pale, and looked like she was going to throw up a little bit. “I’ve never told anyone that before. Not Ozma, and certainly never my father. Which is why I was so upset when you said that people had picked up on something being there. It terrified me. I wasn’t sure if I could be… whatever it is that I am. I think I can now.”

“That’s why you didn’t want your book published. You talk about it in your book.” It wasn’t a question. Charlie understood the struggle of not wanting to be out.

She nodded. “Yes. But, maybe if I change the names. Then I can publish it. I want to.”

Charlie squeezed her hand. “Tell me about her.”

“You…” Dorothy gaped. “You really didn’t read it, did you?”

“Nope.”

Dorothy leaned her head on Charlie’s shoulder, and closed her eyes. “We met in the Peace Corps. We were stationed together. She was so perfect, Charlie. She really was. After that, we decided that the rest of the world was just waiting for us. So we travelled together. We were going to visit every country in the world, we decided. Then she met Raphael in Brazil. As far as I know, she’s still there. I used to think about her all the time, but that changed once I started working for you. I had something to do, you know?”

Without thinking, Charlie pressed a kiss to the top of Dorothy’s head. “She never knew?”

Dorothy curled into her. “Nope.”

Charlie thought back to the day of Baum’s signing, when they were trying to convince Dean to finally go make a move on Castiel.

I’m a big believer in telling someone if you have feelings for them…

“Dorothy.”

Dorothy moved her head away from Charlie’s shoulder, and looked up at her. “Yeah?” Their faces were so close to each other, Charlie could barely make out the details in her face. Her eyes were brimming with tears.

“Can I kiss you?”

Dorothy’s face broke out into a grin. “Oh thank god,” she said and then kissed Charlie first.

It took her by surprise, and Charlie laughed into her lips. Dorothy kissed like she did everything else: jumping head first into an adventure. She explored Charlie’s mouth like it was an uncharted island, and Charlie dizzily followed along.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited to do that,” Dorothy breathed.

“Wait, seriously?”

Dorothy nodded enthusiastically, and bit her lip shyly like she was telling a secret. “I think…I’m falling pretty hard, Charlie Bradbury.”

Relief washed over her. “Do you know how long I’ve been pining after you?” she demanded.

“We’re both pretty stupid,” Dorothy laughed.

“So… now what?” Charlie asked. They stopped and stared at each other. Neither of them had ever considered that. They burst into giggles. Charlie never thought that they’d ever get to this.

“Do you want your job back?”

“Would you like to go on a date with me?” Dorothy blurted.

Charlie laughed again. “Sure.”

Everything felt bubbly. She was drunk on happiness. Dorothy wanted her. Dorothy Baum, the woman who’d seen the world and then decided to work at a comic book shop in Seattle. Dorothy Baum, who took crap from her father because she loved him, but knew when to get out. Dorothy Baum, who loved Charlie Bradbury.

They reentered the party, and Dorothy shyly clasped her hand. “Are we going to do this? Like, for real?” Charlie asked.

“Only if you want to,” Dorothy replied, equally as shy.

Charlie looked across the room and saw Dean, cornering Castiel against a bookshelf like they were in high school. He paused his flirting for a moment to turn around and glance at Charlie. He raised his eyebrows at their joined hands.

“Were you serious about that job?” Dorothy asked over the music.

“Were you serious about that date?” Charlie asked in return.

Dorothy glanced around nervously, before pecking a quick kiss to her lips. “Only if you’re willing.”

Charlie grinned. “Just don’t go again. Stay.”

So she stayed.

The End