V-Day wrap-up
Thank you anonymous! Thank you deadspeaker for the gorgeous, gorgeous art. Thank you flist for the wonderfully awesome fic.
*HUGS!* to everyone!
I spent two hours shovelling snow and playing in it today, and I won't be going to work tomorrow, either. The roads here are still pretty bad; we braved the ban on traffic for a road-test and my car got stuck three times between here and the end of the first major street I drive on, so we turned around and came home.
Unlike yesterday, I was not at all productive, managing to get 3.5K written on KDS. But! This means I'm now over 13K after six days and usually I don't hit productivity until weekends, so I'm halfway excited. Also, this one's turning out to be a little more convoluted than the rest, which is definitely saying something, and that makes me do the whole *clappy hands* thing.
------
He’s come here straight from New Orleans, still has wet heat clinging to every pore and the smell of crayfish leaking out of his clothes. One phone call from his father and he’s driven straight to California to get his brother, only now he has to look for Sam, can’t anything be easy.
Dean heads into San Francisco, calls City College on the way. They say Sam’s dropped out, lasted a few weeks and then abruptly quit, even though he was doing well in all of his classes. The only address they have is old, in the small French quarter downtown, near Chinatown, and the woman Dean talks to is quick to assure him that Sam might not live there anymore. Dean takes the address anyway, heads downtown in the direction of a good cup of coffee.
--
It’s not New Orleans, nothing else is, but it’s better than nothing. Dean parks the car in a lot, walks to a café, grabs a seat at a table on the street, and sits down, watching the people pass. A waitress comes out, starts to smile at him but then sees his amulet and Dean watches with a raised eyebrow as she pales.
She forces her lips to curve, says, “Just a minute, sugar,” in an accent that doesn’t fit here, in the Bay, all low, thick honey and plantation heat, before she disappears back inside.
*HUGS!* to everyone!
I spent two hours shovelling snow and playing in it today, and I won't be going to work tomorrow, either. The roads here are still pretty bad; we braved the ban on traffic for a road-test and my car got stuck three times between here and the end of the first major street I drive on, so we turned around and came home.
Unlike yesterday, I was not at all productive, managing to get 3.5K written on KDS. But! This means I'm now over 13K after six days and usually I don't hit productivity until weekends, so I'm halfway excited. Also, this one's turning out to be a little more convoluted than the rest, which is definitely saying something, and that makes me do the whole *clappy hands* thing.
------
He’s come here straight from New Orleans, still has wet heat clinging to every pore and the smell of crayfish leaking out of his clothes. One phone call from his father and he’s driven straight to California to get his brother, only now he has to look for Sam, can’t anything be easy.
Dean heads into San Francisco, calls City College on the way. They say Sam’s dropped out, lasted a few weeks and then abruptly quit, even though he was doing well in all of his classes. The only address they have is old, in the small French quarter downtown, near Chinatown, and the woman Dean talks to is quick to assure him that Sam might not live there anymore. Dean takes the address anyway, heads downtown in the direction of a good cup of coffee.
--
It’s not New Orleans, nothing else is, but it’s better than nothing. Dean parks the car in a lot, walks to a café, grabs a seat at a table on the street, and sits down, watching the people pass. A waitress comes out, starts to smile at him but then sees his amulet and Dean watches with a raised eyebrow as she pales.
She forces her lips to curve, says, “Just a minute, sugar,” in an accent that doesn’t fit here, in the Bay, all low, thick honey and plantation heat, before she disappears back inside.