(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]

"Already you're forgetting, Sam."

For one flickering instant Michael sounds tired.

She looks it, too.

"But I'll be here to remind you."

As often as it takes, and then once more.

For luck.

Or maybe for love.

"Never fear."

[gavemea_45]

He shoves a hand through his hair, disordering it entirely, then lets it drop and just stares at her.

"I don't get it. I don't get you. But hey, at least you're not threatening to smite me into oblivion like the rest of them, so okay. Fair's fair. I'll carry your messages to Dean."

[theunsmiling]

"Just the one," Michael says, tilting back in her chair, jade green eyes fixed on Sam.

"The rest have been for you."

If he would just get that, maybe she could rest content.

(But probably not.)

[gavemea_45]

Sam gives her a doubtful look, but nods.

"... okay."

He pushes his coffee cup a little to the side, preparing to stand.

"Listen, I should get back. Dean's probably about done with the car by now."

[theunsmiling]

"Of course he is."

At this time and in this place, Michael almost sounds kind.

It won't last.

"I'll see you again, Sam. Next time."

Whenever that may be.