Driveway, 44 Blueberry Hill, Wednesday Early Afternoon

[beenthroughthat]

Not that Sam particularly felt the need to get out of bed early on any day of late, really, but he'd been up pretty late last night helping to undo the damage Piper had done to the news set, so it was past noon by the time he even cracked his eyes open, much less showered, made breakfast, and had his coffee

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[victimofcylons]

Suddenly, there was a strange, black portal opened above the front lawn at 44 Blueberry Hill.

Shortly there after, there was a shout, fading up from the silence until a young woman, dressed in a kilt, a German WWII helmet, a safari jacket, and tank boots fell from that portal and hit the ground with an 'Oof!'

The portal closed shortly thereafter.

[beenthroughthat]

Now that was a custom-made distraction from missing sparkplugs if there ever was one.

"What the frak?" Sam, socket wrench in hand (because that'd cause so much damage if it came to it, really), jumped up and sprinted over toward the lawn when he saw the figure 'oof' against the grass. Not that he recognized the new arrival yet. "Are you okay?"

[victimofcylons]

Cally sat up, blinking a few times.

"Well, that wasn't so bad of a landing, actually," she said, unstrapping her helmet. She finally looked over. "Oh. Uh. Hi."

She was a bit torn between the feeling of utter awkwardness and the sheer joy of having found her way home.

[beenthroughthat]

"Hi," said Sam, who suddenly found himself possessed of the most likely inappropriate urge to laugh hysterically. "Bonus points for a dramatic entrance, but the judges have to dock you for the landing . . . where the frak have you been?"

[holdingontolove]

Cole heard Sam shout, and he actually ventured outside to the driveway to see what was going on. "What's wrong?" he asked.

[Will be SP some portions of the day.]

[beenthroughthat]

Sam was glowering mightily in the direction of the bike engine. "Well, I know why it's not running for sure, now."

[holdingontolove]

"Why not?" Cole asked. He knew pretty much nothing when it came to mechanics.

[beenthroughthat]

"Sparkplugs are gone," Sam grumbled. "All of them."

[givemethehunt]

At some point, Anders might notice a small package tucked under a convenient shrubbery or bush or lawn flamingo . . . whatever might happen to be around that would be large enough to prevent a small package from being immediately noticed.

In it was his spark plugs. And a book on motorcycle maintenance and repair. And a note, reading when you get your head out of your ass long enough to realize that you really don't have a freaking clue what you're doing, let me know. I've had these things for weeks, you tool. --Dean

Ahhhh, neighbors.

[beenthroughthat]

At the point at which said package was discovered -- by virtue of Sam dropping a metric socket that rolled underneath the same shrub -- anyone within earshot might hear the rhythmic, muffled sound of a boot kicking a nearby hapless tree trunk, and incoherent swearing that sounded remarkably like what you'd get if you tried to pronounce keyboardsmashing.

[givemethehunt]

Dean certainly heard. Leaned against the fence between the two houses and everything.

"D'you mind? I'm tryin' to work on my car here."

[beenthroughthat]

"Oh, hey," Sam said balefully. "Does it actually need the work this time?"