(Untitled)

[gavemea_45]

The front door slams open.

"Dean, I told you already, I didn't touch your car! You know what, forget it. I'll go

Comments

[hopeitsworthit]

"Do what?"

Dean keeps on smirking.

"What, I'm not allowed to sit anymore? Jesus."

[gavemea_45]

"Sure, you can sit."

Sam glares at him and points at a table across the room.

"How about over there?"

[hopeitsworthit]

"Sammy Winchester," Dean says, shaking his head. "Still afraid of cooties. Whatever."

He drops his feet to the floor, knocking into a couple more books as he stands up.

It's the principle of the thing. Or -- something.

"Don't bother keeping the seat warm for me."

Beer sounds really damn good right now. And maybe cheese fries.

Or nachos. Or both.

[gavemea_45]

"Don't worry, I won't," he snaps, reaching for the books and looking them over for damage.

Two seconds later he yells after Dean,

"... by the way, don't think I'm not keeping track of how much of my money you're spending!"

[not_lugosi]

Bela hears the demon's voice and freezes. She steps back into the shadows, and she breathes a sigh of relief. She looks different enough from last time, and if she stays out of his sight, she should be okay.

Fuck going upstairs or leaving. She's not going anywhere. She wonders for a moment if she should send a waitrat to the guy the demon's arguing with. An anonymous warning or something.

Then she thinks better of it and shrugs. Whatever. It's so not her problem.

Besides, the shorter one's probably another one of them.

[hopeitsworthit]

When Dean spots Bela he's got a handful of cheese fries shoved in his mouth. Some of that cheese is dripping. He catches it with his non-beer-holding hand and swallows hard.

There's a momentary flicker of 'hot chick' in his radar, but the earth mother thing's kinda over the top.

Plus who knows if she's dead, or a demon, or some kind of goddess or somethin'.

Dean's dick is not a fan of those odds.

He takes another swallow of beer instead. It's probably safer.

[gavemea_45]

Sam glances from Dean, to the pretty redhead, back to Dean.

"... you are such an ass."

[gavemea_45]

He catches the flash of light off blond hair from the corner of his eye, and turns his head.

"... hey, Elle."

Sam darts a look at Dean as if to say don't even think about it, dude.

[hopeitsworthit]

Oh, look, it's electricity-chick. Dean's night is made.

Sure.

"You want some popcorn over there, sweetheart?"

Hey, she's the one that was staring.

[salver]

At the bar, Bobby spins around on a stool, longneck still in his hand.

He looks from one Winchester to the other with raised eyebrows.

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean coughs hard, dropping his legs off the table and sitting up a little bit straighter.

Okay, a lot straighter.

He may also kick Sam under the table. Hard.

"Bobby. Hey. Uh. You get our call yet?"

[gavemea_45]

"Cut it out!"

Sam kicks back, trying his best to slam his foot against Dean's shin.

"... uh. Hey, Bobby."

[salver]

Up winch Bobby's eyebrows another couple of inches.

"Yeah, I got it." He doesn't bother moving yet. "What's going on that you didn't feel like talking about on the phone?"

[coconutextract]

Izzie watches the squabble with amusement playing over her features.

"Trouble in paradise?"

[gavemea_45]

"Hey, Izzie."

Sam gives Dean a hard look, then turns to face her more fully.

"Nah, not really. Why do you ask?"

[hopeitsworthit]

Dean just grins.

"You want there to be?"

Hey, if she does, Dean can run with it.

Probably.

[coconutextract]

"Trust me," she tells them.

"I've got enough issues as it is back at work."

One of them being whether or not she'll have a job in the upcoming weeks, but she's not going to think about that now.

Self-consciously, she touches the peach fuzz counting as hair on the back of her head.