Wine Wednesday
Title: Wine Wednesday
Characters: Dean and Rowena
Rating: G
Word Count: 200
Summary: They've been doing this for a while now, and this week Dean has a surprise for her.
Prompt: DEW Challenge: Rowena, Wine
Rowena arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow, a bemused sort of smirk gracing her lips as she looked down at the notification on her phone.
you’ll never guess what I found!
From one Mr. Dean Winchester. She pushed her finger across the screen, just as a second message came in. A picture this time.
She gasped, hand to her chest, then she hit call, “Not possible. The last bottle of Chateau Margaux 1787 was spilled at a Four Seasons.”
“And yet, I’m holding it in my hand.”
“Has to be a knock off.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
--
Dean had the glass halfway to his lips when Rowena took hold of his wrist, “What?”
“Didn’t we talk about letting it breathe, you’ll never appreciate the full bouquet if you’re just going to hork it down like your usual swill.”
Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, “Unhand me.”
“Will you-”
“Yes! I’ll let it breathe. Give me back my hand.”
She held her hands up in surrender, head turned to the side in contempt.
Pressing her middle finger to her temple, “Was just trying to impart a modicum of sophistication.”
“Next time, you should let me cook you steak.”
Characters: Dean and Rowena
Rating: G
Word Count: 200
Summary: They've been doing this for a while now, and this week Dean has a surprise for her.
Prompt: DEW Challenge: Rowena, Wine
Rowena arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow, a bemused sort of smirk gracing her lips as she looked down at the notification on her phone.
you’ll never guess what I found!
From one Mr. Dean Winchester. She pushed her finger across the screen, just as a second message came in. A picture this time.
She gasped, hand to her chest, then she hit call, “Not possible. The last bottle of Chateau Margaux 1787 was spilled at a Four Seasons.”
“And yet, I’m holding it in my hand.”
“Has to be a knock off.”
“Well, there’s only one way to find out.”
--
Dean had the glass halfway to his lips when Rowena took hold of his wrist, “What?”
“Didn’t we talk about letting it breathe, you’ll never appreciate the full bouquet if you’re just going to hork it down like your usual swill.”
Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, “Unhand me.”
“Will you-”
“Yes! I’ll let it breathe. Give me back my hand.”
She held her hands up in surrender, head turned to the side in contempt.
Pressing her middle finger to her temple, “Was just trying to impart a modicum of sophistication.”
“Next time, you should let me cook you steak.”