(Untitled)

[hopeitsworthit]

There are days that it really ain't worth getting out of bed. Dean's kinda hoping tomorrow isn't gonna be one of those days, because today was pretty shitty.

Goddamn crazy-ass shapeshifters turning into movie monsters is no one's idea of a good time

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[ikissdhimbck]

Kate herself has only just returned to the bar, and as a result isn't in her normal fare either. Her vestments err more on the side of elegant, however. A rich, blue dress that flatters her figure, gathering just slightly around her feet. She's dressed for the elven realm, and to say that the five-feet-one-inch cowgirl doesn't exactly fit in amongst the willowy elves... is an understatement.

She's at the Bar, sipping a whiskey. At least, that's what she was doing. Currently, she's eying Dean over the rim of her glass, and one might get the impression that it's doing a good job of hiding a remarkably amused smile.

[hopeitsworthit]

So, this is awkward.

Dean pulls on a crooked grin, shading in a little bit of self-deprecation just for effect.

Or something.

"You wouldn't be willing to do a guy a favor, would you?"

[ikissdhimbck]

She arches an eyebrow.

There are so, so many ways she could take that.

"What sort of favor?"

[hopeitsworthit]

There is really only one way he means it, at the moment.

"You got any of that booze to spare?"

[ikissdhimbck]

She chokes on a chuckle.

"Sugar, I got a whole bar t'help with that."

She's not rich by any stretch, but she makes enough to tend to her tab, and Miss Bar quietly obliges. A fresh glass appears.

And, while she's at it, an unopened bottle.

[hopeitsworthit]

"Thanks, sweetheart."

That sentiment, at least, is genuine.

He snags the glass, cracks open the bottle, and pours himself a stiff drink.

And after a couple swallows --

"Name's Dean. Hi."

[ikissdhimbck]

"Hello."

She's keeping most of her attention on her glass, but she can't be blamed for sneaking another glance at those leggings, can she?

"My name's Kate. Kate Barlow."

She cocks an eyebrow.

"Havin' a rough day?"

[hopeitsworthit]

"Hey, Kate. And -- nah, most of it was pretty par for the course."

Dean Winchester: charming vagrant, is back in the building.

Or at least Dean's trying to make it look like he is. It's not a bad attempt.

"Except for, uh. The getup."

He kind of wishes it were Halloween, then he could blame it on Bar.

Alas.

"That's a new one."

[ikissdhimbck]

"Ah."

The dour look on his face when he walked in gave that much away, but that isn't going to stop her from asking a few innocent questions.

"Then you're not from Holland?"

She sips at her whiskey, and holds up her hand to amend that comment.

"Sweden! Yes?"

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean closes his eyes, giving a weary sigh.

Half of it's a put-on, at least.

"Nah. American through and through."

He rubs his hand over his face.

"Got trapped in an Oktoberfest-shaped hell. Don't ask."

He punctuates that with a crooked grin.

It seems like the thing to do.

[ikissdhimbck]

"It could be worse."

Though, an "Oktoberfest-shaped hell" does get her imagination cranking. She wrinkles her nose ever so slightly, a smirk pulling at her lips.

"At least y'have shapely legs."

See? Could be worse.

[hopeitsworthit]

It's . . . good to be appreciated.

And yet. Leather shorts.

"I really frickin' hate shorts."

[ikissdhimbck]

"Aww, sugar. It's not so bad."

She hesitates.

"Jus' be careful when y'get up, that the leather seat don't cling t'the backs of your legs."

Kate knows these things from past experience.

[hopeitsworthit]

"Yeah, thanks for the tip."

He guesses its useful advice, but man, does this situation suck.

"Is this the part where I ask how much experience you've got with this kinda leather getup?"

[ikissdhimbck]

"Only if you're ready for the part that follows, when I call you an incorrigible sport, an' potentially slap you."

She's being surprisingly upfront today. It could be residuals from her time with Elrond, or she's just having way too much fun with him.

[hopeitsworthit]

"Hey," Dean says, raising both hands in an 'easy there' gesture.

"You're the one that started with the objectifyin'. I'm just saying."