In which Impalas can be very angry... Among others. (helluvahunter)
It had been a long day. Not like any other days were shorter, but whenever they got nowhere with the case that they were working on, it always seemed longer. Whenever they were frustrated, it seemed that that was when they fought the most. It was just as well. Getting the day's frustrations out in banter seemed somewhat morbidly healthy for them. That was Buffy's reasoning behind it, anyway. The past few days, they'd been pretty good with each other. It seemed that they'd reached some sort of consensus. She'd be damned if she knew what consensus that was... But it was working.They'd even gone to the bar the night before and she tried her hand at pool... Dean could even be a decent tutor if she'd actually let him teach her instead of throwing her wall up that she was so notorious for.
The alcohol helped, though. She'd been pleasantly buzzedly content last night that had turned into pleasantly drunk. She learned that it was entirely possible to break too hard. They'd had a good laugh about that.
Waking up the next morning and trying to work was a lot harder when you don't have practice in the art of alcoholism, aren't a morning person to begin with, didn't get sleep when you made it back to the temporary home. She was a healer, but hangovers effected her just as much as the normal 5'4 woman.
The day started out with a lingering hangover, and it was ending in zero answers. It sucked. This time, (just like every other time it seemed) she had a legitimate reason to start the argument. They were walking out of the apartment of the victim's family. She waited until they were to the car and out of hearing distance before she said anything.
"Well that would have gone a whole lot smoother if you would have just let me talk and do it my way." She was tired, hungry, and sore.
The alcohol helped, though. She'd been pleasantly buzzedly content last night that had turned into pleasantly drunk. She learned that it was entirely possible to break too hard. They'd had a good laugh about that.
Waking up the next morning and trying to work was a lot harder when you don't have practice in the art of alcoholism, aren't a morning person to begin with, didn't get sleep when you made it back to the temporary home. She was a healer, but hangovers effected her just as much as the normal 5'4 woman.
The day started out with a lingering hangover, and it was ending in zero answers. It sucked. This time, (just like every other time it seemed) she had a legitimate reason to start the argument. They were walking out of the apartment of the victim's family. She waited until they were to the car and out of hearing distance before she said anything.
"Well that would have gone a whole lot smoother if you would have just let me talk and do it my way." She was tired, hungry, and sore.