LOG: John/Dean
John had been outside, just sitting on the steps and thinking. Alice had bugged him to get outside more, and he'd actually taken her advice. It was a nice sunset, to tell the truth.
As he turned to go back upstairs, though, he heard footsteps behind him, and something made him turn around. "Dean. Hi."
Dean started a little bit, and ran a sheepish hand through his hair. He knew that it wouldn't be hard for his father to guess what he'd just been doing, but hopefully the information he had would outweigh that. "Guess what. There's a damn parking garage under here. I found my car."
John blinked at that. "No shit?" A parking garage. His mind instantly had clicked into gear on hearing that, though he knew a way to get out of here wouldn't be that easy. "You look her over? You drive her?" Bet you went for a ride, he thought. His son's hair was a little mussed, and his shirt was rumpled. He wasn't an idiot.
"I didn't look her over, but I took her for a little spin." He shook his head, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. "Ended up right back at the entrance." He knew his father knew which made him shift uncomfortably from foot to foot.
"Figured." John inclined his head. "Come on up, unless you're heading back to whoever's room for round two." He said it casually; he didn't want to embarrass Dean, per se, but well, he was going to comment.
Dean chuckled. "That was round two. I think I wore her out, actually." He followed his father, chuckling a little under his breath. It always amused him that his father knew him so well. It was comforting to see that hadn't changed, even after his return to the land of the living.
"Don't break her. She's such a little thing." John ambled up the stairs, reaching for his key to unlock his room. "Plus, she's obviously a really good fighter. Who knows if we can use her." He assumed it was River, of course; he'd heard from Alice about how Dean seemed to have some kind of interest in her.
Dean blinked. "Uh." There was no nice way to say that his father had the wrong girl. "Dad, with all due respect, I can't... with River." He shrugged a little. "She's a virgin."
Oh. Well. John blinked. Dean sounded so quiet, almost defensive, when he brought up River. "Didn't mean to assume ..." He thought as he pushed the door open and headed inside. "Not that Haley girl? She's you." Dean didn't have to tell him, of course, but if some girl got attached to Dean, who knew what secrets she might tell him. Yes, John reminded himself, you're a bastard already. Roll with it.
"Who?" He cocked his head to the side. What his father had said made no sense, but he ran with it. "Don't know that girl." He bit his lip a little, trying not to think about sex with River. It was funny. If he couldn't have it with her, he didn't want anyone else to. But he didn't worry overmuch - she could fight.
"This girl Haley I met. She likes your music. Flirts as much as you do." John would have squirmed, if he'd been talking to anyone but his son. "It was uncomfortable at first." Not least of all because of Alice.
Still. Whatever. He sat in the chair in his room, figuring if Dean wanted he could sit on the other chair or the bed. "Well, whoever you were with. It wasn't Lisa, was it?" The last thing he or any of them needed was a pissed-off House distracting them from the real work to be done here.
Dean tried not to laugh as he leaned against the desk in his father's room. "Oh, wow, another chick flirted with my dad. I'm not sure to be flattered or insulted that they're not flirting with me." He fiddled with a pen and looked at John. "You tell her about Alice?"
When his father mentioned Lisa, he blinked. "It... no. No, not... no. Why? Is she... weird?"
John answered the second question first, given that that answer wasn't exactly a dead fucking giveaway. "No, she's not weird as far as I can tell. House has a thing for her. And she's a pretty closed-minded lady. But not mean, not stupid." She was pretty, too, but of all things not to talk about.
He leaned back in the chair. "And did I tell Haley about Alice? Yes. She backed off. She seems like a nice kid. Just ... she's you."
Dean held up his hands. "Wait. Someone has a thing for her. Oh, crap." He scrubbed his hands over his face, sighing loudly. "She said she wasn't seeing anyone." He couldn't imagine a bigger clusterfuck.
At least his father seemed to be having his own. "You don't have to keep calling her me. I get it."
"Couldn't think of another way to say it." John had found he had more patience for his sons' shit since being here, and his tone stayed even. "And yeah, House. The one who talked shit about your mother. I don't know if they're seeing each other, though. He might just have a crush on her." Dean actually looked pissed off. Whoops.
Dean went to the bathroom to splash cold water on his face. He'd probably just pissed off the guy his father had punched in the face, the one who'd talked shit about his mother. "Well, he's probably going to come at me. At least I know I can take him." He returned to his father's room, flopping down on the bed and closing his eyes. "I'm sorry, Sir. I ... yeah. It was Lisa."
John shrugged. "Don't worry about it. Like I said, I don't know what's going on. I don't know how she feels about the guy." He actually felt kind of bad - he didn't want to ruin Dean's idea of a good time. At least not until he absolutely had to.
Dean groaned. "I always ask. Always always. And for some stupid reason, I always assume they tell me the truth. Why do I assume this?" He supposed it was some sort of weird karmic justice for not having seen River for a while.
"She lied to you?" John raised an eyebrow. She didn't seem like the type, frankly.
"She never told me about House. Just told me there wasn't a Mr. Cuddy, and that was that." He shrugged. "Maybe she wasn't actively lying, but I don't want to get into any fights onto her behalf today."
John shook his head. "You can take him." Something made him say it, too. "Sorry."
"Not your fault." Dean kept his eyes closed. "If I tell you something, will you promise not to tell Sam?"
John nodded. "Not unless I absolutely have to." Like, life or death, but Dean wouldn't put that restriction on something involving life or death anyway.
Dean chuckled a little. "You know I don't really do... relationships. But for some reason, I've started looking out for River. I mean, you know me, Dad. Would I let a thing like virginity stop me before now? Be honest."
He didn't have to tell his son he was going to be honest - of all things he owed both his boys. "You've always liked women," John said truthfully, trying not to be a complete asshole. "But I've only met the girl twice, really. I know she's ... strange. But other than that, you've got me in terms of information." For all he knew she could have been the next Mata Hari, until Dean had said she was a virgin.
Dean sighed. "She's... funny. And she doesn't look at me like I'm a freak." He sat up a little. He had to push the feelings aside. There was no way River would ever see him that way. Dean doubted she could ever see anyone that way.
John didn't frankly feel comfortable talking with Dean about this kind of stuff, and it was in these moments he missed Mary more than ever. Alice was a great presence, but the fact she was so young made it a lot less likely, unfortunately, that Dean would ever ask her about these kinds of questions. And they needed to be answered by a woman.
He sat up forward, forearms on his thighs. "Don't give it up," was all he said. It was the only thing he could think of that seemed to make sense.
"There's nothing to give up." He stood up again, yawning and shrugging. "Do you want to go grab a drink or something, Sir?" He missed being around his father, not talking about scary things.
"Sure." He'd drop it, for his own comfort and clearly for Dean's. Still, he'd tried. "You still drink dark ales?" He really hoped he was remembering the right drink. He'd have felt lousy if not.
Dean nodded. "Yeah. Got Sammy into 'em too." He gave his father an awkward sort of hug before leaving the room ahead of his father. He was glad he was around, even if he couldn't answer his questions.