[Okay. Time to be an adult. The reasons why he's been avoiding Kate are varied and some more legitimate than others, and none of them are really resolved, but he's decided to try to just put them aside for now.
The text he sends is short, but that's for the the best.]
Hey.
If you want some coffee I'm at the bar.
[In other words, he's ready to talk if she wants to. Or, well, not ready, but willing to give it a try.]
[ she can't exactly lie and say she's not a little glad she didn't have to go through that entire song and dance with both chris and emily together. sorry has never exactly been her strong suit and in the last couple of months, she's done more of it than she can remember doing in a good decade. but, as everyone's learned, the rules are different down here.
so she has to be a little different. a little more willing to apologise for her fuck ups. this one can't exactly be avoided and was somewhat more important than simply forgetting to file paperwork or something.
it is fucking painful, honestly. ] Sure. Be there in an hour.
[ Bless their commonalities. She considers not replying to that, because duh of course she is on call for Glacius projects, but that whole thing of trying to explain herself better.
She's still attempting it. ] & let me know if you need anything else for it.
[ Dean.. instead of waiting an hour, just heads on straight to the bar. Why? Because why the hell not.
But mostly because drinking is easier than about a hundred and one things right now and so he gives in and finds them a place to sit and kicks back with a beer. There'll be tequila, he promises, but he's not downing shots for a full hour before Kate gets here, that'd just be... y'know, stupid. ]
[ well, some people decided they have to work in order to prevent going stir crazy, so they can't just roll on down to the bar whenever. but she is there, in an hour, as promised - halfway through switching her bun out for a ponytail. ]
Starting th' party without me? [ It's said nicely enough, a smirk on her face as she sits down at the table, leaning back in the chair. ]
Some people wouldn't know how to work if it bit them in the ass and took them out to dry but that's not really the point. Dean is firmly in the land of trying to figure out how to drink himself to a solidly early grave, even if beers won't do him in by a long shot. And yet he's still in a haze by the time Kate arrives, looking up like a whipcrack at the sound of her voice and raising his eyebrows as if he's been caught before he catches hold of the moment and waves a hand towards the free chair. ]
Always a party when i'm invited. [ except he sounds a touch dour about the idea. ]
[ She probably wouldn't have waited for the invite anyway, but it's nice to be acknowledged. And sure, this entire bet is a bit silly when one considers that there's no economy here to speak of - so ordering is less a question of buying and more one of throwing out orders at the people bartending - but it's an excuse for a drink, so why the hell not?
The comment gets a raised brow for nothing more than the fact that she doesn't miss the tone that doesn't fit with the words being said. ] Sound thrilled about that. [ What sarcasm? She rests her arms on the table and watches him rather than simply looking. ]
[ As if Dean ever really needs an excuse to drink, but he's taking it anyway and running - hitting the pavement so damn hard he's going to break his own skull. He's been pounding it hard lately and he knows it, not helped by the constant stream of Cas putting him to bed like he's a child, but Dean's all hung up on too many things and he's already avoiding topics, waving a hand at whoever's bartending for the night to bring over the first round.
And then he's looking back to acknowledge the words, not necessarily pointed but still on target and he shrugs a shoulder as if it's not a problem. When it is. And lord is he ever trying, but he only has it in him to fail right now. ]
I did lose a bet. [ and there goes the last of his beer. ]
[ She's not going to comment on the drinking, because she really has no room to, when she pulled this bet out of her ass in the first place. It's not like she hasn't slammed back drinks like water for enough of her life anyway. He'll survive a bit too much beer and tequila.
Shotglasses, salt and lime. She doesn't even hesitate in grabbing a glass and knocking it back, chasing the burn down with the same quick movements she got way too used to back in Manchester.
(You either drank quickly enough to keep up with Alicia or you didn't drink.) ]
It was a dumb bet. [ She really is in a good enough mood that nothing she says sounds mean, it's just. Direct. ] How long've you been drinking now? [ Like that. It's just a question - how much catching up does she have to do? ]
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