The Park, Wednesday Afternoon

[6buckstohisname]

After spending yesterday engaged in some truly pitiful staring at the slip of paper with Sam's phone number, followed by some even more pitiful staring at his phone, followed by some Lifetime level lurking on a college campus, Dean was back at start. Not a single freakin' clue what to do next came to mind. You know, things were so much easier when

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[filleauloup]

If people talking to random clouds was supposed to be weird, Éponine had never gotten the memo, because that seemed like a completely normal thing to do. She was technically on the clock, but that wasn't going to stop her from taking a break to wander through the park, was it? No. Besides, it wasn't like a questionable work ethic was going to land her entire family in jail this time.

"Has it said anything back?" she had to ask.

[6buckstohisname]

Dean gave her a sideways glance before returning his attention to the boring, boring sky. "Not since I've been here."

Because Castiel wasn't exactly taking calls anymore.

[filleauloup]

Damn him.

"Well, that's good. It's not a good sign if they talk back." Said the girl who talked to random objects in the sky all the time.

[6buckstohisname]

I know, right?

"Yeah, that's pretty true." Because it's probably a demon. Or monster. It angel who wants to wear you like a prom dress. "I'm Dean."

[filleauloup]

"Éponine," she answered, sitting down cross-legged in the grass, facing the bench. What? The view was better here. "I don't think I've seen you about before, monsieur."

[6buckstohisname]

"Monsieur." Dean smirked. "I kinda like that."

[filleauloup]

DEAN, NO, NOT THE SMIRK.

Éponine smirked right back at him, leaning back against her mail bag. "Ah, so that's not something you're used to hearing, then?"

[6buckstohisname]

You can't contain his smolder!

"Can't say that it is," he replied, putting an arm across the back of the bench. Real smooth, Dean.

[filleauloup]

See, even if she had clothes that actually fit her these days Éponine still wore shirts that . . . afforded a decent view if she leaned forward a little bit, and she wasn't above doing that. See what happens when you get smoldery, Dean?

"But you don't seem to mind," she noted. "D'you think you could get used to it?"

[6buckstohisname]

"Oh, I don't know," Dean replied, enjoying the view. "Might take some practice."

Vigorous practice.

[filleauloup]

Let it be noted that Éponine's view was pretty enjoyable, too.

"Really, monsieur?" Also not above putting extra emphasis on the word. "And how diligent are you about practicing?"

[6buckstohisname]

"Could take all night," Dean said with mock sadness.

[filleauloup]

"Only one night?" Éponine, stop that. Yes, that, with the raised eyebrows and the leaning forward a little bit more. "You must be awfully clever, to learn something so thoroughly that fast."

[6buckstohisname]

"I'm a quick learned," he said oh so modestly. "But you know what they say about practice..."

[filleauloup]

Pfft, modesty.

The thing about Éponine was that she had an occasional tendency to blurt out whatever popped into her head, even if it wasn't necessarily advisable or appropriate, and that was on normal days. This week?

"The hell if I know what they say, but I'd practice climbing you like a barricade."

Whoever had been looking at Tumblr on the post office computer and left it open where she could see it? You were ON NOTICE.

[OOC: OH MY GOD I AM SO SORRY, I WAS DARED TO.]

[6buckstohisname]

Dean had to blink at that, but adapted quickly. "That's a new one, but I can do that."

With your dirty, French sex games. Yes, that's where he was going with this. DEAL WITH IT.