Dean at the pub!breakmychestSeptember 20 2010, 00:24:11 UTC
Spike had seen the pub sign as well, and he very much wanted a drink. It seemed like just the thing to deal with being whisked into a different dimension where time was wonky and his least favorite romantic rival was probably making eyes at his girl right now. Not that Buffy was his girl, but she wasn't Angel's either. But... drinks. He hoped there were some actually there.
It was still weird to walk through the sun and not burn up, but Spike wasn't complaining. It was nice that there were some things about this place that weren't entirely awful. He smiled up at the sun and didn't notice the other man until he accidentally ran into him.
He was nearly to the door when the other man ran into him, and the events of the day had put him on such edge that instinct was to reach for the knife at his hip, but when his fingers wrapped around the handle, he forced himself to stop. Relax, he mentally coached, get yourself off edge and start actin' like you've got this under control
( ... )
Spike shrugged and stepped back. The other man was clearly very on edge. He could hear the heartbeat. Still, considering their circumstances, he couldn't really blame him. "I was just enjoying the sunlight. Wasn't paying attention. Sorry."
He reached past the other man and pulled the door open. "Hopefully, there'll be at least something, right? Though it'd bloody figure if I'd ended up in a dimension without beer."
Enjoying the sunlight. Dean couldn't help the tempered look of judgment that crossed onto his features over how gay that sounded, but he had to remind himself that sometimes, it was better to keep those things inside. When he finally got around to finding Sam, maybe he'd make mention of it, but for now, he was just gonna keep his thoughts on Spike's dubious sexuality inside. He worked past the judgment and just shrugged him off, moving past the guy and into the bar -- assuming he'd followed him since they both had intentions to go in for the same reason, he continued talking
( ... )
Spike hadn't really had a chance to walk in the sunlight since before he died. It had been a very, very long time, and he didn't care if Dean judged him. He followed Dean into the bar, glancing around. "Cheery place," he commented dryly.
Spike went behind the bar, just in case, and checked to see if anything was left. There wasn't. He scowled a little and headed towards the back. "I really want to hurt whatever it is that brought us here," he growled. "And I'm Spike, by the way," he added in a more normal voice.
Yeah, join the club, Dean wanted to comment when Spike voiced his frustrations with whatever brought them there, but he knew damn well that screwing over the Trickster or an angel would be a lot harder than that. Besides, if it were the latter, they were there for a reason. And a damn good one, at that -- or so he hoped. He wanted to believe that Cas was done dragging him around just to rub it in his face what he'd screwed to Hell. At the introduction, he turned to give him a look as if he was wondering why he was supposed to care over his shoulder
( ... )
Spike shrugged and glanced up at him. "Yeah, well, I haven't come across anything I couldn't face yet, and I don't intend to start cowering in fear from some nameless danger." And if he died, well, so long as Buffy was all right, he could deal with it.
He picked up a bottle of liquor and sniffed it before wrinkling his nose and putting it back down. "I wouldn't drink any of this. I've been in crypts that smelled better."
"Not that I don't appreciate the advice 'n all," he didn't, "but you keep your crypt-sniffin' experiences to yourself, and I'll keep mine." All the same, Dean took a sniff of one of the bottles that had been cracked open, wincing at the smell. Eh. What didn't kill you made you stronger, and at this point, he was just hoping the blatant aging had made the shit strong enough to knock him on his ass like he was gonna need it to, at this point. Setting the foul-smelling, broken bottle back on a shelf, he turned to fix a suspicious stare on Spike.
"The hell have you faced that made you so damn cocky? Can't imagine you've run into a whole lotta trouble if you spend most your time hangin' around dead people." So far, Dean's assertion of the situation was that he'd been lucky enough to run into some skeevy looking grave-keeper who had a fetish for Billy Idol and didn't get enough Vitamin D.
"I'm just saying, I've gone to some very low-end bars, and they wouldn't touch this. Not even for the customers you don't waste the good stuff on." That wasn't quite true, but the demons that would drink it also liked yak piss. It hardly counted.
Spike eyed Dean thoughtfully, then shrugged. They were already in a different dimension in some bizarre forest with plenty of non-human people. If Dean hadn't had his fragile human preconceptions shattered, he probably wasn't about to now. "All sorts of nasties. Everything from vampires to hellgods. None of 'em have done me in." Well, technically one of the vampires had, but that was an entirely different situation.
It was still weird to walk through the sun and not burn up, but Spike wasn't complaining. It was nice that there were some things about this place that weren't entirely awful. He smiled up at the sun and didn't notice the other man until he accidentally ran into him.
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He reached past the other man and pulled the door open. "Hopefully, there'll be at least something, right? Though it'd bloody figure if I'd ended up in a dimension without beer."
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Spike went behind the bar, just in case, and checked to see if anything was left. There wasn't. He scowled a little and headed towards the back. "I really want to hurt whatever it is that brought us here," he growled. "And I'm Spike, by the way," he added in a more normal voice.
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He picked up a bottle of liquor and sniffed it before wrinkling his nose and putting it back down. "I wouldn't drink any of this. I've been in crypts that smelled better."
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"The hell have you faced that made you so damn cocky? Can't imagine you've run into a whole lotta trouble if you spend most your time hangin' around dead people." So far, Dean's assertion of the situation was that he'd been lucky enough to run into some skeevy looking grave-keeper who had a fetish for Billy Idol and didn't get enough Vitamin D.
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Spike eyed Dean thoughtfully, then shrugged. They were already in a different dimension in some bizarre forest with plenty of non-human people. If Dean hadn't had his fragile human preconceptions shattered, he probably wasn't about to now. "All sorts of nasties. Everything from vampires to hellgods. None of 'em have done me in." Well, technically one of the vampires had, but that was an entirely different situation.
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