timed to May 28th
May. 23rd, 2010 03:59 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
The Winchester was empty.
Dean had wandered past its silent tables before, snuck in after hours in search of pie, but it wasn't after hours. It was seven p.m. on a Friday night, a prime dinner hour on a prime dinner night, and yet Dean stood alone in the doorway, pulling fitfully at the sleeves of his suit.
He'd worn the suit before. It was his favorite, and judging by the way Angua looked at him when he was in it, he looked handsom in it, so Dean couldn't understand why the collar seemed so tight now, or why the jacket seemed so hot. The lights of the Winchester were turned down low and intimate, emitting no heat for him to blame, and the breeze through the windows was fresh and sweet. Touching his hand to the flush on his neck, Dean swore quietly, taking another cool sip of water before he returned to the door.
Any time now, he'd see Angua on the path. She'd be beautiful, because she always was, and the sight of her would stop his breath, because it always did. It was strange to think on now when Dean felt so close to gasping into a paper bag, but he knew, as soon as he saw her everything would fall into place.
He'd begun working at the clinic more than a year ago. This last week he'd gone back to school. He had a best friend and a hobby that didn't involve a gun, he had a little girl who he looked on as a daughter, he had a dog and a home and a life that could be shared someone. Maybe Dean had a long, long way to go towards perfect, but he'd worked hard to be the kind of man a woman like Angua deserved. He loved her. Compared to the life he'd known, the island was still and safe, and there was time, and there was no one to take it away from him.
Leaning his shoulder against the door, Dean watched the path for a sudden spill of long blond hair. He loved her, he could have this, and it was time.
Dean had wandered past its silent tables before, snuck in after hours in search of pie, but it wasn't after hours. It was seven p.m. on a Friday night, a prime dinner hour on a prime dinner night, and yet Dean stood alone in the doorway, pulling fitfully at the sleeves of his suit.
He'd worn the suit before. It was his favorite, and judging by the way Angua looked at him when he was in it, he looked handsom in it, so Dean couldn't understand why the collar seemed so tight now, or why the jacket seemed so hot. The lights of the Winchester were turned down low and intimate, emitting no heat for him to blame, and the breeze through the windows was fresh and sweet. Touching his hand to the flush on his neck, Dean swore quietly, taking another cool sip of water before he returned to the door.
Any time now, he'd see Angua on the path. She'd be beautiful, because she always was, and the sight of her would stop his breath, because it always did. It was strange to think on now when Dean felt so close to gasping into a paper bag, but he knew, as soon as he saw her everything would fall into place.
He'd begun working at the clinic more than a year ago. This last week he'd gone back to school. He had a best friend and a hobby that didn't involve a gun, he had a little girl who he looked on as a daughter, he had a dog and a home and a life that could be shared someone. Maybe Dean had a long, long way to go towards perfect, but he'd worked hard to be the kind of man a woman like Angua deserved. He loved her. Compared to the life he'd known, the island was still and safe, and there was time, and there was no one to take it away from him.
Leaning his shoulder against the door, Dean watched the path for a sudden spill of long blond hair. He loved her, he could have this, and it was time.
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Date: 2010-05-24 01:28 am (UTC)"Dean, did you kick everyone out? Are those candles?"
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Date: 2010-05-24 02:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-24 02:28 am (UTC)"I do. And as someone who comes from a world without this Electricity, this feels very nostalgic," she said, looking around at the flickering, soft glow of the lights. "Thank you, Dean, this is very sweet."
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Date: 2010-05-24 02:51 am (UTC)He took his chair with only a faint flush staining his cheeks. He pulled out his napkin and looked up, only to be frozen a second time, this time by the sight of her in the midst of all that soft light. She looked otherworldly in her golden dress, and his heart squeezed hard in his chest.
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Date: 2010-05-24 03:25 am (UTC)She smiled across the table at Dean, but her expression faltered when she noticed how wide-eyed and flushed he looked. "Are you okay? You look a bit...nauseous."
* Carrot's trips to the bread museum could not possibly count, much as his heart was in the right place. Fossilized bread, really now.
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Date: 2010-05-24 03:35 am (UTC)"Hang on," he said, grabbing the bottle instead. "White okay?"
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Date: 2010-05-24 03:47 am (UTC)She held out her glass toward him. "What are we having? Did you make it?"
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Date: 2010-05-24 03:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-24 03:56 am (UTC)She laughed. "I don't doubt it. Do you know what George is?" Or was, she supposed.
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Date: 2010-05-24 03:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-24 04:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 03:12 am (UTC)"You guys should become BFFs," he said, "then we can eat like this all the time."
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Date: 2010-05-25 03:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 03:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-25 03:47 am (UTC)She winked. "That's a no."
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Date: 2010-05-25 04:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-26 02:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-26 03:28 am (UTC)"There you go." He grabbed the wine bottle as he resettled and refilled both their glasses, figuring he'd be needing it tonight.
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Date: 2010-05-26 03:33 am (UTC)She gave the wine refill a curious look. "Why Dean Winchester, are you trying to get me drunk? You know I don't need alcohol to let you in my pants." She tried a bite of the salad. "Or up my skirt, in this instance."
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Date: 2010-05-28 01:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-28 02:47 am (UTC)"So how was your day?"
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Date: 2010-05-28 02:59 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-28 03:16 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-05-28 03:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2010-06-01 02:33 am (UTC)She grinned. "Mostly."
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