SPN AU: Havdalah

[dormouseketeer]

It was the Saturday evening service when the men in the black suits showed up, too nicely dressed for Havdalah services at the tiny Reform synagogue in the Northwest suburbs of Chicago. Which was perhaps the best time--only a few congregants attended, and it was after Shabbos, so the rabbi could do work. Like, apparently, translate the leather-

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[dixietech]

Tuck was still getting used to the idea that the world had a hidden depth to it: angels, demons, witches and monsters. What took even more getting used to was the idea that he had been involved before. A vessel for one Archangel Gabriel right up until his death in the Elysian Fields

[dormouseketeer]

"Shit!" She combed a hand through her bangs and began to walk back to her car, glancing over her shoulder to make sure Tuck wasn't following her, peering around the parking lot for any sign of men in suits. Her nerves were strung tight and waiting to snap and she had to piss like a Russian racehorse and she couldn't stand the thought of another drive-thru meal. But like hell was she going to sit still for an hour to wait for this place to open.

Because that small leather book was tucked inside her pink fleece North Face jacket, and that made her an automatic target. Doubly so, since she knew how to read it.

"Shitfuck-damnitall. My luck. Fuck a duck." The muttering only seemed to grow less coherent as she fumbled to unlock her car again. Exhaustion was catching up quick.

[dixietech]

His eyebrows loft at the sudden expletives. It didn't take a psychic of Rhys's caliber to pick up on how stressed and strung out she looked. "Hey, easy there, darlin. I've got an in with the owner. Let me give him a call, see if we can't get you inside for a little coffee and something warm to eat?"

Tuck dug out his phone, punching in the mage's number.

"Is everything all right? You look like you haven't stopped in a few days, and this place isn't exactly right off the highway."

He wasn't going to mention that something was pinging oddly off his senses either. Residual psychic flashes from Gabriel were common, and he was starting to get used to them. Most of the time they were memories of his, or a few odd bits of knowledge bubbling to the surface. It was best to just let it work its way to the surface so he could make sense of it.

[dormouseketeer]

"Fine, sir. Everything's peachy." A blatant lie, trying to defend herself from what's obviously intended as kindness. She turned around, leaning back against the car and rubbing her eyes as everything seemed to catch up with her at once. That was bound to happen, really--she had stopped.

The tears, though, she worked hard to hold back. They had no place here and now, not in front of a strange man like Tuck. Her father was dead--that was bound to happen someday. Her mother had probably been next, unless the suits thought to hold her hostage for the book. But she couldn't deal with that, not right now.

Now, now, now. That was what she had to do, concentrate on this moment, surviving this encounter. Making sure this wasn't some creep out to hurt her. Out to take the book.

She just wasn't sure how much more now she could take, before breaking down completely.

[dixietech]

Tuck leaned back against the door of his own car, hands shoved in his pockets while he did his level best to look harmless. Really, he wasn't, but he was a friendly enough sort of guy and the southern twang to his voice always helped in the past. "Tuck. Haven't been a sir in a long time."

"Hey, are you sure you're ok, darlin? You look like you could use a little help." And about ten hours sleep, but hey. He won't point out the obvious.

[dormouseketeer]

"I've no reason to put faith in your capacity or willingness to help me." She looked up at him with big, wet brown eyes, shaking her head. "So I'm not going to ask. Alright?" The 'sir', at least, was dropped easily enough. She didn't like to stand on formality outside of the synagogue. It made standing on formality in the synagogue feel purer in some way.

Her eyes lingered on him, trying to figure out how to judge if she could trust him or not. Looks were deceiving, and that sweet Georgia twang could have been faked to lull her into a false sense of security. And she could make thousands of excuses not to trust someone, but at some point, she needed to.

So, she figured if he offered again, she'd accept...something. Certainly not tell her secrets all to him, but maybe she'd take some coffee to help her stay awake on the road.

[dixietech]

“Then it’s a good thing you won’t have to ask.” Tuck waited while she looked him over again, a careful evaluation that leaves even him impressed. Not quick to trust, but she’s not shutting him down completely.

What he should do is steer her towards one of the diners down the road, a place not frequented by hunters and big men with guns. But the Roadhouse is different. He trusts the co-owner of the place with his life and has done so on several occasions. Rhys is also empathetic and kind and might be able to help convince her that yes, they might not look the part, but they could help if help was needed.

And that nagging sensation in the back of his mind was hardly helping matters.

“I put in a call to the owner. He’ll be down to open up in a few. At least stick around, get some coffee and something hot to eat. You won’t find anything but a couple of craphole diners more than ten miles up the road.”

[dormouseketeer]

She nodded slowly. "I'll wait for him, then." By which she meant leaning against her car, not approaching Tuck any more than she has to. She knew Tuck was a fake name of one sort or another, so she quietly tried to figure out what she'd introduce herself as, when the question invariably came up. Perhaps something she used online? She certainly wasn't going to go out of her way to be a Rosenberg out in the sticks.

But the question hadn't arisen yet, and with all luck, it wasn't forthcoming.

"Maybe got a map in there, too?" Figuring out where to take this thrice-damned book would be about as hard as anything she'd done in her life. She didn't know anyone who could be trusted to protect it--and her.

[dixietech]

He didn’t expect her to pull a gun, but all the same, Tuck reaches into the leather satchel resting on his trunk to hold up his tablet slowly, keeping everything slow and deliberate. She might not be a dangerous hunter, but she did look like she was on her last legs. “I’m sure they’ve got the old fashioned paper maps in there, but I know they just installed a decent wifi server inside and I happen to have the password.” Probably because he helped Sam install the thing, but hey, details, right?

“You looking for something in particular? I’m no expert but I’ve been through this area enough in the past few months I’ve gotten to know it fairly well.”

Again, only offering, not assuming. And he really, really wished that itching at the back of his mind would quit. Stupid archangel remnants.

[dormouseketeer]

She finally stood and ambled over, adjusting her jacket and the book within in an attempt to keep the latter hidden. "I'll know it when I see it. I hope." Extending a hand for the tablet, she didn't look him in the eye. "And if not, I'll just keep going."

Well, if that didn't come out a little brusque and self-pitying at the same time. She flinched a bit to realize it. "I mean, I'm sure I'll be fine, honest. Thanks...Tuck."

[sleight_of_fate]

It's not terribly long after Tuck's phone call that a small, dark blue SUV rumbles up the access road to the parking lot, a brief beep of horn on its way by as it pulls around to the back of the bar and parks there. And after that, it's only another minute or two before there's the clatter of heavy deadbolts unlatching and the thick wooden door swings open

[dixietech]

The beep of the horn got Tuck’s attention and he waved at the vehicle as it swung around the back of the bar. “There he is. Give him half a sec and he’ll let us in and we can get you something to eat that doesn’t come in a paper bag

[dormouseketeer]

"I didn't throw my name." There was something smug and sulky in the words, mingled with pure exhaustion. Her head was bent over Tuck's tablet, beginning to google-map the local area, see just what sort of backwards area she's found herself in. "Not sure I'm gonna, tonight. Is that going to be an issue?"

And then she glanced up at Rhys, and stopped flat, taking in the sight for a long moment. He didn't seem as safe, at first glance, as Tuck did. Though appearances were deceiving and she knew better than to judge a book by her cover and what has she gotten herself into?

Her arms crossed over her chest, over the book, and over Tuck's tablet all rather defensively.

[sleight_of_fate]

That gets a chuckle out of Rhys: He'd figured that Ellen and Tuck would get along just fine, once Tuck got used to those punches. Ellen rules her boys by two parts love and one part terror, pretty much, and they wouldn't have it any other way- it takes some serious steel to be able to mother a bunch of guys like these

[dixietech]

She was a classy, tough lady and Tuck wouldn't have their relationship any other way

[dormouseketeer]

Davida was all self-consciousness and hesitation, but in the end, hunger and exhaustion won out. She followed Tuck, her eyes lingering on Rhys. Pussycat or no, she was oddly certain he had claws. "Coffee does sound good. Maybe...a sandwich or something small? I know you're not usually open this early, so."

Tuck's tablet was offered back as she shambled behind him, because she realized she was squinting at the screen and not really seeing anything anymore. Blurry, heavy. She was going to break down, no matter how hard she tried, and these men were either going to help her or not. All she could do was pray that she was in a safe place.

"Um...thanks for opening, though."