( His hands pull back, a smirk on his lips. He even steps beside her, showing them, holding them up. He's innocent. )
OK, Giada. ( Doctor Giada. That's hot. ) I'll keep my distance. Let you finish your -- kitchen surgery. ( he reaches into the fridge. normally, he'd drink from the OJ carton, but, he's in someone else's house and he's on his best behavior. This isn't the bunker or Sam or mom, and even she grabs him a glass. So he grabs two and pours both of them a glass of OJ as he talks. ) You let me sleep in on your last day off.
Well, I wanted to surprise you with my entirely average but not burned pancakes.
[It may not be an overly astounding surprise, but given all the meals he's made for her in the time he's been there, she wanted to at least try and return the favor.]
It wasn't going to hurt if you slept a little later.
( But he sets one glass of juice on the counter by her. Takes his own sip. )
Entirely average anything's good with me. Cast-iron stomach. ( he falters. ) I mean, I'm sure it's - going to be better than you're making it. Give yourself some more credit, Rachael.
( Coffee's a given, though, coffee and orange juice. Yeah, that's fine. Coffee's lifeblood. Almost as much as blood.
With the coffee started, Dean turns back, watching her.
He isn't used to this. Waking up to someone. Them making pancakes. Being in an apartment that's not a motel. Sam not in the other room all the time. He doesn't like the itch he's feeling, an itch that started creeping up the past few days. The closer Elena is getting back to her real life. )
With the coffee ready, he'll transfer some into two mugs and walk the orange juice and coffees over to her coffee table, where they eat all their meals. He sits on the couch, giving her room. )
Just don't be all - chummy. Hopefully, he won't want, like, lunch. ( Cases and work and patients. Not friendship. ) Maybe uh, Mystic Grille tonight. Last hurrah? Game of pool? Old standards?
[She finishes off her stack, before grabbing both plates in one hand and scooping up the maple syrup with the other as she makes her way over to the coffee table.
She extends one plate out to him, and nods.]
Bon appetit.
[They truly are nothing special. They're just pancakes. But they're edible, and since they're basically Bisquick, they taste good and are better with syrup.]
( The banter is live and light, as it always is between them. He pushes down the burn around his heart, the fear that crops up behind his forced smile. Tells her a story about a rabbit's foot and Sam winning 1,000,000th customer at a Biggerson's.
He focuses on helping her with chores and errands during the day. Works on Baby in the late afternoon. And then changes, Mystic Grille ready (which is easy for him, or, anyone). He holds her front door open for her. The Impala's door. The Grille's door. They each order a beer. Before the waitress can leave, he gets her attention again, striking up an idea. ) And a round of shots. We're celebrating.
[Elena hesitates because her and her human liver do have to work tomorrow and she doesn't want to do it hung over. But this is Mystic Falls and drinking is one of their town past times so she doesn't think too much of this at first.]
( One stays one for about an hour, before Dean orders a second with his second beer, knowing Elena probably doesn't want one. He takes the shot and a sip from his beer in succession, letting it burn down into a settled sigh. )
The meal is nice. Dean's a little toasty, but having fun and it's easy. And maybe everything's going to be okay. But, Elena pays the check and reality crashes in. This is her last night. She's going back to work. He's now in this town. And she's going back to work.
She goes to the bathroom before they leave. Dean fidgets. Dean has been down this road before. And the last time...
He's brought out of his thoughts as she asks if he's ready, after she folds her copy of the receipt up and grabbing her purse.
Another beer arrives and Dean hands the waitress cash. )
I was, but, I hadn't tried the IPA. You should go back, do your night routine. I'll be right behind you.
( Be there for the important part. When the voices silence and he can distract the both. )
[Elena glances down from him to the beer and does her best to keep the judgement off her face. They haven't been back in each other's lives that long yet, but Elena does know addiction, if not personally, in the faces of other people. And it's always more complicated than it seems.
She's concerned, and she worries, but he's an adult and this is new so she doesn't push. Not yet.]
You sure you want me getting started without you?
[There's a tempting edge to it, the lure implicit, but she won't push him if he doesn't want to.]
[Elena takes the keys and wonders if Dean understands the risk he's taking by leaving her with his beloved car, but she won't contradict him. She just nods and gives his arm a soft squeeze as she goes.]
Okay. See you soon.
[And she does leave, but she can feel a sinking feeling in her gut that this night isn't going to go the way she thought it would.
She heads home, does her end of night routine, and waits, with the news on quietly in the background.]
( He does order one more beer and ends up falling into a game of pool. Well, he hovers during one, it ends and the guy looks at him, points the cue in his direction and who he is to turn down a challenge? Did he ask for it. Was it asked of him. Does it matter? He collects some cash for old time's sake. Didn't even need to do double or nothing.
He knows he should cut his losses.
So, he's not right behind her. He's an hourish behind her.
He lets himself into her apartment, the keys dropping as he opens the door. Oops. He leans forward to pick them up. Hands grasp them like he's been caught, even though he's just walked in. Bringing them back up, he looks down at them and sighs, leaning against the open door.
He fucked this up. It's her last night. And here he is. Late. Not drunk drunk. But, more drunk than he should be on a night like this. )
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everyonelives2025-07-26 07:05 pm
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OK, Giada. ( Doctor Giada. That's hot. ) I'll keep my distance. Let you finish your -- kitchen surgery. ( he reaches into the fridge. normally, he'd drink from the OJ carton, but, he's in someone else's house and he's on his best behavior. This isn't the bunker or Sam or mom, and even she grabs him a glass. So he grabs two and pours both of them a glass of OJ as he talks. ) You let me sleep in on your last day off.
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[It may not be an overly astounding surprise, but given all the meals he's made for her in the time he's been there, she wanted to at least try and return the favor.]
It wasn't going to hurt if you slept a little later.
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( But he sets one glass of juice on the counter by her. Takes his own sip. )
Entirely average anything's good with me. Cast-iron stomach. ( he falters. ) I mean, I'm sure it's - going to be better than you're making it. Give yourself some more credit, Rachael.
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[She smirks before going through and flipping the set on the griddle, pleased when they are the appropriate shade of golden brown and not too dark.]
How'd you sleep?
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( But, that would mean he'd have them himself. Back at the bunker. For himself. )
What's the eta on mediocrity?
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[Coffee is a must and what she was going to move on to next once the next batch went on.]
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With the coffee started, Dean turns back, watching her.
He isn't used to this. Waking up to someone. Them making pancakes. Being in an apartment that's not a motel. Sam not in the other room all the time. He doesn't like the itch he's feeling, an itch that started creeping up the past few days. The closer Elena is getting back to her real life. )
They excited to have you back?
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[They like consistency, and doctors they can trust. She slides the three finished pancakes onto a plate for him and starting a stack for her.]
Doctors probably too, though I have gotten a few jokes saying I should be taking more time.
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( What's funny about that?
With the coffee ready, he'll transfer some into two mugs and walk the orange juice and coffees over to her coffee table, where they eat all their meals. He sits on the couch, giving her room. )
You okay seeing the witch doctor again?
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[Because for Dean that wouldn't necessarily translate, if he's never worked a job with PTO.
She takes a deep breath at the mention of Ezra before shrugging.]
I think it'll be a little weird, but we'll make it work. We're both professionals. We'll be professional.
[And otherwise, she will avoid like the plague.]
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Just don't be all - chummy. Hopefully, he won't want, like, lunch. ( Cases and work and patients. Not friendship. ) Maybe uh, Mystic Grille tonight. Last hurrah? Game of pool? Old standards?
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[She finishes off her stack, before grabbing both plates in one hand and scooping up the maple syrup with the other as she makes her way over to the coffee table.
She extends one plate out to him, and nods.]
Bon appetit.
[They truly are nothing special. They're just pancakes. But they're edible, and since they're basically Bisquick, they taste good and are better with syrup.]
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He focuses on helping her with chores and errands during the day. Works on Baby in the late afternoon. And then changes, Mystic Grille ready (which is easy for him, or, anyone). He holds her front door open for her. The Impala's door. The Grille's door. They each order a beer. Before the waitress can leave, he gets her attention again, striking up an idea. ) And a round of shots. We're celebrating.
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Sure. Why not?
[She'll have one, probably and leave it at that.]
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That was a good one. How's your rabbit food?
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[Is it rabbit food when it's drenched in dressing and probably also has bacon? Elena doesn't think so, but she'll go with it for now.]
How's your burger?
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They make a damn good burger here. And I've had burgers in forty-eight of the fifty states.
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[Which makes them delicious in a new and interesting way.]
And he's very happy with the air fryer.
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[She nods as she reaches for the beer she's nursing.]
Not bad, right?
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The meal is nice. Dean's a little toasty, but having fun and it's easy. And maybe everything's going to be okay. But, Elena pays the check and reality crashes in. This is her last night. She's going back to work. He's now in this town. And she's going back to work.
She goes to the bathroom before they leave. Dean fidgets. Dean has been down this road before. And the last time...
He's brought out of his thoughts as she asks if he's ready, after she folds her copy of the receipt up and grabbing her purse.
Another beer arrives and Dean hands the waitress cash. )
I was, but, I hadn't tried the IPA. You should go back, do your night routine. I'll be right behind you.
( Be there for the important part. When the voices silence and he can distract the both. )
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She's concerned, and she worries, but he's an adult and this is new so she doesn't push. Not yet.]
You sure you want me getting started without you?
[There's a tempting edge to it, the lure implicit, but she won't push him if he doesn't want to.]
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( He means it, though, and he accompanies his sentiment with a healthy sip. See, he's always a third of the way through it.
He even takes his keys out of his pocket. )
Take Baby. I'll catch a cab or walk back. Right behind.
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Okay. See you soon.
[And she does leave, but she can feel a sinking feeling in her gut that this night isn't going to go the way she thought it would.
She heads home, does her end of night routine, and waits, with the news on quietly in the background.]
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He knows he should cut his losses.
So, he's not right behind her. He's an hourish behind her.
He lets himself into her apartment, the keys dropping as he opens the door. Oops. He leans forward to pick them up. Hands grasp them like he's been caught, even though he's just walked in. Bringing them back up, he looks down at them and sighs, leaning against the open door.
He fucked this up. It's her last night. And here he is. Late. Not drunk drunk. But, more drunk than he should be on a night like this. )
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