(no subject)

[gavemea_45]

Dean's changing the oil on the Impala. Sam should be in the motel room, working on gathering more background information for their next case.

He can't make himself sit still long enough to focus.

After the sixth circuit of the room, he throws his hands in the air and stalks through the door to Milliways instead.

At least there he can grab better coffee than the cheap vending machine crap, right?

Comments

[theunsmiling]

"You're sure you don't want a donut with that coffee? They're pretty good."

Where did Michael come from?

She was probably here the whole time. Probably.

Her T-shirt today is unrelieved black. Maybe it contains the representation of a black cow in the middle of an empty parking lot on a moonless night.

Or maybe it is laundry day.

[gavemea_45]

He gives her a swift, sharp look.

"Nah, I'm good. Thanks."

Beat.

"So," Sam observes, neutrally. "Been a while."

[theunsmiling]

"Too long?"

Michael's voice is mild, though her expression is anything but, green eyes sharp and piercing as she regards Sam.

"Or not long enough?"

The real question is how much she cares either way.

[gavemea_45]

"You tell me," he returns, and meets her gaze with his own steady regard.

[theunsmiling]

"You're the one that's stubborn as stone."

This is probably Michael's polite way of saying Sam's a fucking idiot.

Again.

"Me telling you anything has yet to bear fruit."

She props her chin in one hand, still looking at Sam.

"You're lucky I'm patient."

[fireinthehole]

At the bar is a man studying a printed resume that's been folded once or twice.

He's got a glass of something amber in front of him; looks like it was at least a triple.

(Boyd's been weighing his options for a while.)

[gavemea_45]

On second thought, screw the coffee.

Sam walks up to Bar, nods to the man with the paper and glass, and sets some cash on the bartop.

"Jack and Coke." Beat. "On second thought, skip the Coke."

[fireinthehole]

Rough night everywhere.

Boyd returns the nod, and starts folding up his resume.

It's been creased for some time, by the looks of it -- folded, unfolded, refolded.

[gavemea_45]

He picks up the glass, considers tossing it back, then decides against it for now and takes a sip instead.

"Haven't seen you around before," he observes. It's neutral enough to be an invitation, matter of fact enough not to pry.

[hadyougoing]

"Sam!"

Ava sounds surprised, but not too surprised. She got his note, after all, so he's clearly been around and is at least sort of apprised of recent apocalyptic happenings.

She hurries over.

"Did you get my note?"

[gavemea_45]

He shakes his head, snapping immediately out of his vaguely irritated mood.

"No, I - not yet, I haven't -- are you okay?"

Sam's looking her over as if checking for signs of injury, or maybe just to reassure himself he's not dreaming, that she's really there and all right.

[hadyougoing]

Ava is ... wearing her white RennFaire shirt (okay, it is not called a RennFaire shirt except in her head) and jeans, and sporting a distinct lack of injuries. No headband.

"Well ... that's what my note says," she replies, a little embarrassed.

"I'm fine! And everything seems to be okay around here, too."

[gavemea_45]

"Good. I'm glad," Sam tells her.

"On both counts."

There's something like guilt underlying his tone when he adds,

"I wasn't -- I didn't hear about it until after it was all over but the shouting."

[likesthecoat]

Speaking of coffee, at the end of the bar is a Ianto Jones, enjoying the elixir of life.

Otherwise known as a Good Cup of Joe.

He nods and smiles in greeting. "All right, Sam?"

[gavemea_45]

"Looks that way," he returns, with a smile of his own.

"Hey, Ianto. How about you? Doing okay?"

[likesthecoat]

"Got my coffee," says Ianto, holding up his cup, "and I only had to put a few books back on the shelves in my staff room. I seem to have escaped the worst of it.

"How about you? Were you here for the--" He searches for the right word. "The end of the worlds?"

[gavemea_45]

Sam shakes his head.

"Missed the whole thing. Dean and I -- we've been on the go for a month or more now, and I just..."

He shrugs, looking a little guilty.

Maybe more than a little.

"... wasn't here."

[aboutright]

Lee is by the bar, studying the tabs board.





... there are a lot of names on that tabs board.

[gavemea_45]

Sam glances over at him.

Wryly, he asks,

"Looking for yours, or just looking?"

[aboutright]

Lee straightens, quickly readjusting his glasses.

"I haven't actually had anything yet," he answers, turning to Sam. "I don't think I'm on it."

[gavemea_45]

"Not if you haven't ordered anything, no."

He reassesses the other guy in a heartbeat, and gives him a sympathetic smile.

"First time?"

Okay?

[starrydome]

Elrond is standing at the bar, the breadth of his shoulders clashing a little with the abundance of long, dark hair cascading down his back. With leaves twined in it.

He has ordered a tall mug of mulled wine and is sipping it slowly. Beginning to relax.

Okay!

[gavemea_45]

Sam blinks once as he moves up to the bar and takes in the hairstyle of a kind he hasn't seen since leaving college in California, and gives the guy a quick once-over out of the corner of his eye.

"Coffee, please?" he asks Bar. "Thanks."

He turns so that he's facing outward toward the room while he drinks it, and nods a casual hello to the other man.

[starrydome]

Elrond returns the greeting with a small smile and a nod of his head.

When he looks properly at Sam, there is no doubt that he is not human. It's his eyes more than anything - even if the ears are visible too.

Eyes too bright and clear to belong to a Mortal.

"I do not think I will ever understand the popularity of that particular bewerage," he says, equally casually.

[gavemea_45]

He's too much a professional to react, especially here, but there's that tiny shift in awareness that means he's paying just that extra bit of attention anyway.

Better safe than dead, after all.

"It's the caffeine, mostly, I think," he returns.