Oh, you know, *Meg says, sweetly.* Ghosting around, wailing helplessly over my tragic state of undeath, seducing innocent young men from the path of righteousness, tout comme d'habitude - the usual.
Oh, Dieu, it was just a joke. *Her gaze flickers to Dean, and then back to Sam.* Everyone always makes such a fuss when I joke about being dead.
Though - oh - I guess it's less funny when it comes a little too close to what you actually believe about - well, I know I shouldn't take it personally, it's not just me, but those on the wrong side of the living-dead line, oui?
That's right, *Meg agrees, dropping the wide-eyed look.* Also to the point, a friend of Andrew's.
*The word 'friend' is not emphasized in any particular way.*
I just kind of want to make a point. To you, but from what I hear your brother could maybe benefit from it too - I'm assuming this is your brother, right? The one who was taking out some dead-girl issues on Lilly? I'm sorry, *she adds, to Dean,* I'll feel very silly if it turns out you're just a long-lost cousin or roommate or something.
Bien sur. However: dead, *Meg points out, to Dean.* Blonde. It's my point too. And in fact, *as she shifts her gaze back to Sam,* that's . . . sort of a lie? Since I don't remember doing anything at all to provoke you last time we met.
*Her tone is direct, now, and flat.*
You know exactly what I'm talking about, Sam Winchester, and it's not just - comment dit-on, disingenuous to pretend you don't, it's insulting. Which is kind of the point I want to make.
I'm not saying you weren't within your rights. I'm not even saying you were wrong, entirely, 'cause you weren't. But you weren't right either - and the the way you did it was insulting and offensive. To me. And I want to explain to you why. I think I have a right to do that.
And before you even start thinking it, if you haven't already - no, you are not going to dismiss me as an overemotional dumped girlfriend looking for someone to blame for what I should have known was coming.
*She doesn't sound particularly angry, as she says it; more tired.*
Because first of all, I'm not, and even if I were, that wouldn't be what this was about. Except in the way where it is what I'm talking about, with the prejudices, and the assumptions.
HI, Sam Winchester.
Meg would like a word with you. A perfectly, friendly, harmless word. And her perfectly, friendly, harmless smile conveys this remarkably well.
"Hi, Sam."
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Sam smiles back at her, easy and carefree.
"How's it going?"
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Dean holds up both hands, smile just this side of fake.
Barely.
"You get up on the wrong side of the coffin today?"
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It's hissed, and accompanied by a swift kick to the ankle-- but Sam's look at Meg is a lot more shuttered than it was before.
"Something wrong?"
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(Meg likes Dean's approach better.)
Her eyes go wide.*
Oh, Dieu, it was just a joke. *Her gaze flickers to Dean, and then back to Sam.* Everyone always makes such a fuss when I joke about being dead.
Though - oh - I guess it's less funny when it comes a little too close to what you actually believe about - well, I know I shouldn't take it personally, it's not just me, but those on the wrong side of the living-dead line, oui?
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He does shoot Sam a sideways look, though.
How the hell'd he piss this chick off?
"Sure it was a joke, sweetheart. You wanna try something else? I don't think I'm buying this one."
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"Isn't that right, Meg?"
A beat.
"If there's something you want to say to me, go on and say it."
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*The word 'friend' is not emphasized in any particular way.*
I just kind of want to make a point. To you, but from what I hear your brother could maybe benefit from it too - I'm assuming this is your brother, right? The one who was taking out some dead-girl issues on Lilly? I'm sorry, *she adds, to Dean,* I'll feel very silly if it turns out you're just a long-lost cousin or roommate or something.
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His eyebrows are still up as he watches Meg.
"But, you know, even from short acquaintance? I'm pretty sure that Lilly chick can make her points herself."
You know. In case Meg was wondering.
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Sam's look is level.
"I don't make a habit of taking issues out on people who don't provoke me."
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*Her tone is direct, now, and flat.*
You know exactly what I'm talking about, Sam Winchester, and it's not just - comment dit-on, disingenuous to pretend you don't, it's insulting. Which is kind of the point I want to make.
I'm not saying you weren't within your rights. I'm not even saying you were wrong, entirely, 'cause you weren't. But you weren't right either - and the the way you did it was insulting and offensive. To me. And I want to explain to you why. I think I have a right to do that.
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Dean's smile is still easy.
It's also still fake.
"I'll give you that one."
The rest of it?
Well, we'll see.
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Sam's gaze locks with Meg's.
"I guess Andrew told you, then?"
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*Meg doesn't bother looking at Dean this time.*
And before you even start thinking it, if you haven't already - no, you are not going to dismiss me as an overemotional dumped girlfriend looking for someone to blame for what I should have known was coming.
*She doesn't sound particularly angry, as she says it; more tired.*
Because first of all, I'm not, and even if I were, that wouldn't be what this was about. Except in the way where it is what I'm talking about, with the prejudices, and the assumptions.
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Dean's smile doesn't waver.
It's also not real friendly.
"Since I still have no fuckin' clue what you're talking about."
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