"Yeah, she said something about that. I don't think she likes you much."
Sam gives Dean a quick look and starts toward the bar.
"Look, for what it's worth, man, I'm sorry. I met her back in Indiana-- we got to talking at the bus stop. It was right after we'd had that huge fight, remember?"
A dragon is stalking past on rather small feet. (It's a rather small dragon.)
Someone is sulking.
"Watch your feet," someone else who is less purple says absently as she watches him storm over to a chair not facing her. "He's more inclined to flame when he's cranky."
Cue dragon pausing to glare at her and stick his tongue out.
Cue mutant snorting in response. "Which he's obviously not at all tonight."
Kaylee watches the byplay with some amusement (and very little attempt at hiding it) from a barstool, glass of lemonade at hand.
The slang might change a little bit, but other things don't, and Kaylee's been hanging around in public houses since well before she ever met Malcolm Reynolds.
(Somehow she doubts that this particular truism is one that will make Simon feel better about his existential quandaries.)
...it's been a while since somebody's bothered giving her a once-over. A long while.
Feels good.
But it's the other one that makes her grin widen. "I might, yeah. Don't seem like he does, though." She nods to the taller one. "You got any idea as to why that is?"
The young vampire huntress looks towards the door when she hears someone that she didn't recognize. Well... they weren't too bad looking. That was an understatement right there.
So this would be Abigail watching the two for a moment, hazel eyes watching the strangers. There just seemed... well, she wasn't sure really. Either way it goes she heads over towards the bar.
Clark's not been here long and he doesn't really intend on staying much beyond a cup of coffee, but...
Well, we'll just say the Winchesters have caught his attention. Or rather, Dean has. And Clark does not look happy about it.
He's mistaken one person here for someone back home and he'd rather not overreact on this occasion and be wrong. That would be bad for Dean. For now, he's just going to sit at his table and stare.
The frown remains, but Clark's expression softens a little, because yes he has been listening in and it doesn't appear that this is who he thinks it is. But there could be reasons for that.
He decides there's no point in playing games, pushes away from his table and approaches the brothers. Sam is given a brief look over, but it's clearly Dean he addresses.
"You look like someone I know. Your name wouldn't be Jason, would it?"
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Sam walks past Dean into the bar.
"Objecting or planning to call her, either one."
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Dean raises an eyebrow, scanning the area real quick before following his brother.
"I'd ask for her number, then, but--I think she'd kill me."
Beat.
"What the hell did you tell her, Sammy?"
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Sam gives Dean a quick look and starts toward the bar.
"Look, for what it's worth, man, I'm sorry. I met her back in Indiana-- we got to talking at the bus stop. It was right after we'd had that huge fight, remember?"
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"Yeah. I remember."
He makes a face.
"Man, that freaking thing killed apple pie for me."
It sucks.
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Someone is sulking.
"Watch your feet," someone else who is less purple says absently as she watches him storm over to a chair not facing her. "He's more inclined to flame when he's cranky."
Cue dragon pausing to glare at her and stick his tongue out.
Cue mutant snorting in response. "Which he's obviously not at all tonight."
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His eyebrows go way up.
"Dude, is that--?"
Dude. It's like a little portable flamethrower.
Sweet.
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"Um. What-- is he a dragon?"
A beat.
"Your dragon?"
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The slang might change a little bit, but other things don't, and Kaylee's been hanging around in public houses since well before she ever met Malcolm Reynolds.
(Somehow she doubts that this particular truism is one that will make Simon feel better about his existential quandaries.)
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"Hey, there. See something you like?"
Maybe he can hook her and Sam up--boy's getting damn cranky lately.
Jesus.
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"You never stop, do you?"
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Feels good.
But it's the other one that makes her grin widen. "I might, yeah. Don't seem like he does, though." She nods to the taller one. "You got any idea as to why that is?"
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So this would be Abigail watching the two for a moment, hazel eyes watching the strangers. There just seemed... well, she wasn't sure really. Either way it goes she heads over towards the bar.
"You boys want anything?"
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"You workin' here, sweetheart?"
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"I'm good, thanks."
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"No, I don't work here. Just askin' a couple of strangers if they wanted something to drink. On me."
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Well, we'll just say the Winchesters have caught his attention. Or rather, Dean has. And Clark does not look happy about it.
He's mistaken one person here for someone back home and he'd rather not overreact on this occasion and be wrong. That would be bad for Dean. For now, he's just going to sit at his table and stare.
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Sam lowers the bottle and mutters to Dean,
"Don't look now, man, but I think you've pissed someone off."
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Dean looks left, looks right, and--
Yep, catches sight of Clark.
"Dude, do you know him?"
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He decides there's no point in playing games, pushes away from his table and approaches the brothers. Sam is given a brief look over, but it's clearly Dean he addresses.
"You look like someone I know. Your name wouldn't be Jason, would it?"
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