day|starters: the call of the coffee

[9mmshotglass]

There was a point in the extraordinarily early morning in which Reese found herself wandering out of the dorms (she hated them and usually crashed on a couch somewhere not there) and into the kitchen. Blind coffee-making was done by routine, before she could even see straight. The clothes box had given her pajamas that were almost too colorful

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[easiertohate]

Ros didn't mind mornings. She never had minded them. That wasn't to say she liked mornings, and wouldn't stay in bed if she could, but this wasn't home. The last time she had slept in had been with Adam, both of them late as they'd- Ros cut that train of thought off abruptly. She wasn't sleeping in her own bed, in fact she didn't even have her own house, not yet. That was being built.

"Is that actually for someone in specific or did you hear me coming?" She glanced at the woman, obviously another one of those who needed it. American. Of course. They were all American here.

[9mmshotglass]

"Habit," Reese said and gestured. "You're welcome to it. Too used to throwing a pot on in the middle of a case and grabbing a cup for my partner." She covered up a yawn. "I can't function until I've got at least one in me." She squinted up at the woman. "Dani Reese, lately of the Los Angeles Police Department and formerly a homicide detective. God knows what the hell I am here."

British, obviously. Reese combed a hand through her hair and took another determined sip of coffee.

[easiertohate]

Americans were so open and in your face about things. It was appalling really. Ros grimaced slightly as she added milk and sugar to the mug, deciding that she should at least make a modicum of effort. There was a mug of coffee involved after all, "I worked with someone the same. He couldn't function without coffee," she leaned against the counter, blowing lightly on the warm liquid before sipping at it.

"Is this where I tell you my life story as well then? Ros Myers, formerly of British Intelligence Services." Not like it mattered here. Nothing mattered here.

[9mmshotglass]

"Another Spook," she said quietly and nodded, the motion barely there. "My partner would probably say the universe has a sense of humor, but I think, given our current situation, it's a bitch with PMS and no chocolate."

Reese rubbed at her eyes and took a breath that she let out slowly. Insecure. The universe is just a big fucking baby with a cruel sense of humor. When it all came down to it, they were still stuck on an island that liked to screw with people's heads.

[unchosen_son]

She looked really, incredibly familiar in a way that Sam didn't know how to place, but it was like catching a glimpse of someone you knew while driving away. That was what it felt like. And realizing that staring was definitely coming off rude, he offered her a polite smile. "Hi," he greeted with a nod. "Coffee fix?"

[9mmshotglass]

"Yeah, you could say that," Reese muttered, arching an eyebrow before taking another long sip of coffee. "That coffee's black, but you're welcome to fix it and have a seat. I'm too used to working on habit to not grab two mugs in the morning, though usually it's something from Starbucks."

She squinted up at him for a moment.

"Dani Reese," was all she offered and gave a tired wave.

[unchosen_son]

"Sam Winchester," he said, still staring at her like he was trying to place her. He didn't think he'd ever met a Dani Reese in his life, but then, who knew with the way they traveled. "Where are you from?" he asked, sliding into a seat.

[9mmshotglass]

"Los Angeles," she said, her eyes flicking to his. "You keep staring at me like that and you might not get to enjoy that coffee. I'm formerly of the Los Angeles Police Department, Homicide Division. If you got beef with cops, then take the coffee and get out. If not, sit. Or don't."

She pursed her lips, irritation marring her features.