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[theunsmiling]

Michael, wearing a cream T-shirt and jeans, strides into the bar, hands up near her chin to unfasten the strap of her helmet.

It swings in her right hand once she removes it and starts heading toward Bar. A doughnut, a crossword puzzle, and a pen are waiting for her once she gets there.

Such are the little pleasures of life -- well, that and people watching.

It's practically built in.

Comments

[thursdays_angel]

If Castiel were asked to name the one person he'd most want to see in Milliways......well, it would be Meg. But Michael is one of the extremely close seconds.

He's come down a great deal off of the wave of anger he'd been riding when he first came into the bar. Though he still feels a little like a human who has come into contact with a live electrical conduit.

He stops a respectful distance from Michael and nods a greeting.

"Michael."

He waits to see if his presence is welcome at this time.

[theunsmiling]

"Castiel," Michael says in return, after finishing her doughnut.

Then she licks the sugar off the tips of her fingers.

"You're looking very -- present."

She raises her eyebrows very slightly, turning the statement into something that more closely resembles a question.

[thursdays_angel]

His eyebrows draw together a bit in confusion, trying to figure out if this assessment is favorable or not.

He can't quite tell. So he settles for what he knows to be true.

"I am present."

He feels like more of an explanation is required here, but he's not quite sure how.

"I was in need of respite. For a time."

He does not want Michael to think he is neglecting his duties on the other side of the door.

[theunsmiling]

Michael leans forward, propping her chin up on one hand.

"And are you still in need?"

She does not specify 'respite'.

There are reasons for that.

[thursdays_angel]

He briefly considers fudging the truth. Offering up his equivalent of I'm fine. Nothing to see here.

But Castiel is not so good at lying. Especially to someone like Michael.

"I am less in need than I was."

His emotions are still rather raw, nerves on edge, for all that he is calmly standing at the angel version of parade rest.

"I have spoken with Meg," he explains.

That always helps.

[theunsmiling]

"That is fortunate -- your running into Meg, I mean."

She pushes her booted foot against a chair, sliding it away from the table.

"Sit, Castiel, if you will. So we can see if the rest of your need may be met."

[thursdays_angel]

Castiel obediently seats himself at the table.

(Though phrased as an invitation, he complies as if to an order.)

"Speaking with her is helpful."

"Things have been difficult. Outside."

[noteful]

You know, there's something just a little bit intimidating about being told, even sartorially, than an archangel would find you more interesting if you were dead.

Then again, if Meg avoided everything in Milliways that was a little bit intimidating, she wouldn't spend much time here.

"Good evening, Michael."

[theunsmiling]

"Meg. It's good to see you."

Polite pleasantries may also be factually true, as they are in this case.

[noteful]

"And you."

It's been a while, after all.

"How have you been?"

[theunsmiling]

"I fare well, more often than not. And yourself?"

Michael remains a little slouched, but puts down her half-finished crossword.

"Your homegoing was comparatively painless, I hope."

[noteful]

"I suspect that depends on what it's being compared to, really," Meg says, with a slight smile.

"But it . . . the bad parts could have been worse. And they're over. And I'm probably better for having been through them."

[theunsmiling]

"Such are the trials set before you," Michael says -- gently, for her.

"And before us all, strange as that may be for some to believe."

[52-dropoff.livejournal.com]

"As it happens, I'm dead." He vaguely remembers her. Remembers that she's not what she seems.

[theunsmiling]

"I know," Michael says, looking up from her crossword.

"Does that mean you want me to find you interesting?"

[52-dropoff.livejournal.com]

"It's the human condition. We want others to find us interesting. Even if it's not the best idea." He takes a seat. "And you have to admit, it's your t-shirt."

[theunsmiling]

"That status is hardly limited to humans."

There's a wry twist to her voice -- and to the curve of her mouth, if only for a moment.

"Fortunately or otherwise. And I need admit nothing. Sometimes a shirt is just a shirt."

Or not.

[52-dropoff.livejournal.com]

"Anything you say, Dr. Freud. I think that what you wear always means something." Even if sometimes it means that you are dressing down for the weekend.

[theunsmiling]

"How very generous of you."

And now her voice has gone dry.

"I'm touched."

[makesthings]

Sam sees her shirt and stares at it because that's just a strange message.

Then he tries to not stare and goes back to his dinner but no one is better if they're dead.

[theunsmiling]

Some are. Life has a way of being cruel.

Michael's gaze flicks over Sameth when she looks up from her crossword puzzle, searching for a waitrat who might be willing to bring her coffee.

[makesthings]

"Is that really true?"

It might just be some kind of humor he doesn't get instead of something the woman believes.

[theunsmiling]

Michael looks at him, one eyebrow arching.

"You'll need to define 'that' before I can safely answer."

[makesthings]

"What's on your shirt, it seems a dark thing to joke about."

[theunsmiling]

"Make something dark enough, and the only sane choice is to turn it into a joke."

Human coping mechanisms are amazing like that.