somebody tryin&#39; just to stay alive

[Stepping out onto the ground floor, he isn't surprised to see that it looks exactly like the tenth floor. Fucking brilliant. Everything's identical. Rubbing the back of his neck, he chuckles a little at Santana's comment.]

Yeah, there's more than one thing you can do with a car besides drive i-

[Dean stops short, snapping his mouth shut so fast his teeth click. Wow. Wow, okay. He did not just get some interesting mental pictures. He's gotta concentrate on important things, like cheeseburgers and pie and not sex on leather seats with fogged-up windows and Ramble On playing on the radio. Dean coughs.]

...right. So where's this kitchen, anyway?

[Desperately trying to change the subject, he does hazard to pull out his gun, leaning suspiciously around a corner to make sure the coast is clear.]

And that's bullshit about the place. Why the Hell are we here if we can't leave? What is this, the Hotel California?

From:

[]

This way. It's not far. []

As for this place, it does tend to be "bullshit", as you so crudely put it. Santana and I have been here for months already, and we still don't have a valid answer to that, aside from the possibility that this place really just enjoys torturing us every so often.

[]

It will be good to have someone like you here though. I haven't known you long of course, but seems like you're prepared for, well, almost anything.

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[~~Or if she's stoned off cupcakes~~ That's still more than YOU eat, KURT. You're the one who should leeeeave.]

It really does. Torture us, I mean. It's been kinda dull lately though, so I don't think you need the gun, but you do look hot with it, so.

Just try not to shoot things that don't need be to shot. [It would suck if he accidentally killed someone and got in trouble. How would seducing happen if he was locked up??]

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Months? I don't freaking have months.

[Dean sighs a little, his shoulders sagging. Just as things seemed to be looking up, he hears this. He recalls it from speaking with Santana earlier, but it's still disconcerting to hear. He raises an eyebrow at the girl, tucking his weapon away.]

...just let me know when we encounter something that needs to be killed, okay? [He growls a little roughly, feeling impatient and on-edge, interested in why they both seem to be flanking him right now. They'd better get to the kitchen soon.]

I ain't prepared for anything, but I can try to handle almost anything. Just practice. [Dean flashes a winning smile.] Can't have either of you getting hurt on my watch, can I?

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Of course not. []

I doubt anyone has months to spare. But if I've understood all the time/space issues correctly, time doesn't pass in our homes while we're here, so you won't actually miss anything.

But don't worry. We'll be the first to let you know if there's any trouble here. []

[]

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[Santana rolls her eyes at Kurt's smitten tone. She's tempted to tell him to just drop to his knees and get it over with.

But she's supposed to be somewhat ignoring him, so she doesn't. You're welcome, Kurt.]

Totally. We would never leave you in the dark. And see, this way you have all your months back. [That being the second time Dean sounded so cryptic, she's kinda wondering if he really is dying.

And with the kitchen in view, she's just going to walk a little faster so she's ahead of them (directly in front of Dean, of course, because she can't resist putting a little swish to her hips.]

Tada! Kitchen.

Edited Date: 2010-11-01 08:41 am (UTC)

From:

[This is good for him, but he won't admit it. Not out loud. Spending all this time hanging over the shoulders of high school students wouldn't normally be his cup of tea, but Kurt's really starting to remind him of Sammy (What with the similar way they seem to bitch about things), and Santana is-

...we'll cross that bridge when we get there.

But it's still good. Though the two of them are starting to really hedge in on his personal space.]

Time doesn't pass? We're stuck in a loop?

[Well, this shit sounds familiar. This has Trickster God written all over it, Queen Bitch his ass. No doubt the dick thought he could fuck around with Dean's head while they were asleep, or while Sammy was away, or something. The house with this many people doesn't quite seem his style, though; and Dean appreciated the god's style. Emitting a grumpy sort-of huff, he conceded that, at the very least, time wouldn't be stolen away from what little he had left. He doesn't even bother keeping the relief from his voice.]

...Thank God for that.

[Raising his eyebrows in speculative interest as Santana hurries to get ahead of them, Dean offers Kurt an amused, sidelong glance that says "I'm not the only guy she's done this too, am I?" before following after her. Dean chucks his duffel onto the nearest table with a loud thump, clapping his hands together and giving a genuinely happy, eager smile as he looks over the multiple cabinets.

He glances at them over one shoulder, winking.]

I need a cheeseburger and an apple pie, STAT. Love me some pie.

From:

Something like that. The seasons seem to be changing though, so I guess it does in a way...but everyone here claims that when we go home, no time will have gone by at all.

[]

Both of them at once? [] ...Err. I'm sure you'll find something. It works like the closets do, if you've tried those yet.

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[Santana's been staring-slash-smiling at Dean since she entered the kitchen, so she's also been ignoring what the two others have been saying. Until she realizes what Kurt just said.

What? Are you telling me you can ask for anything and this place will just give it you? Like, specific food things??

[SHE IS GLARING AT YOU SCARILY, KURT.]

No one told me this!

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[Dean rubs his hands together eagerly, casting an interested look around the kitchen and shrugging at Santana's obvious discontent.]

I dunno, sweetheart, but we might as well find out. Let's see what's behind Door Number One...

[Moving in to the first cabinet, he grips the handle tightly and wrenches it open to find - ]

Holy Jesus fuck.

[It's a bacon cheeseburger. And...a whole apple pie. And freaking vanilla ice cream. Dean groans like a man getting head and pulls both plates out, kicking the cabinet door shut behind him with a little snicker and setting his meal on the table. Pulling a chair up and turning it to face the table backwards, he straddles the thing and picks up the burger, admiring it for a moment.]

Oh, baby, I missed you.

[And he started to eat. And it was good.]

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[] I thought you would have known by now.

[]

How can you eat that grease-laden...thing? Ugh. It's a heart attack in a bun!

[]

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[Santana is just...so torn. The sounds Dean's making just makes her imagination run, but. The food. Ewww. As a result, it's possible she looks ridiculous.]

Okay, I can't watch anymore. [she walks past Kurt.] Just shut your eyes, Hummel. It's way hotter that way.

[But! Time to test for herself. She checks a cabinet annnnnd...practically squeals. You saw this coming, don't lie.]

Oh my god, Breadstix breadsticks!

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Yeah, right, like I've got to look out for cholesterol where I'm goin'.

[Snorting in disbelief - What is it with teens these days and starving themselves? - He finishes the burger in a few minutes flat; not exactly a record time for him, but he was pretty hungry nonetheless. And damn, that thing hit the spot. But what he'd really been looking forward to was this. This majestic, glorious, hot apple pie. Sucking his fingers clean with another groan of delight, the older man grapples in a drawer behind him for a fork and a knife, cutting himself a slice and setting it right on top of the ice cream. He admires his masterpiece for a second.]

Gotta enjoy life while you can, Kurt. [It's pretty sage advice, all things considered, coming from Dean. Without any ado, the hunter spears himself a bite of delectable apple goodness and tested the waters, rolling his eyes back into his head and sticking a finger in the melting ice cream, sucking on the tip.]

...and dude, seriously, this apple pie is orgasmic.

[One would be able to gather as much from the expression of sheer bliss on his face and the sounds coming out of his throat.]

From:

[]

I am enjoying it, thank you. [.] I'm just getting a head start on my peers, who aren't going to start caring about their health until they're in their forties, with unsightly beer bellies to show for all of the abuse they will inevitably put their bodies through in college...

[]

...Mm. It seems that way. []

From:

[By then Santana's taken a seat, too, if only to get a better view of Dean. She's...vaguely gnawing on a breadstick. She glances at Kurt, who's clearly also enjoying the show.]

Looks that way, yeah.

[Staaaare. And hey, she's not exactly bashful, so:]

So, Dean. Is this how you are in bed? Cause you kinda look like you wanna be fucking that pie. [And it's hot, RIGHT KURT?]

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[He's happily eating in his own little world, and actually chokes on a piece of apple at Santana's abrupt, prying question. Eyes widening, Dean smoothes a hand over his neck and swallows, gasping and staring at her.]

...damn. [He's hoarse now, and clears his throat with...slight nervousness?] Come on any stronger, sweetheart, and I'll hafta get a restraining order.

[Leaning back, he scrutinizes the both of them carefully. It doesn't take too long to compose himself, but...really. Teenagers these days. Dean couldn't remember being that vulgar - then again, he was being a pretty awful role model right now.]

And no, [With a chuckle, he twists the fork in his hands, making eye contact with the her.] This is not how I am in bed. First I would sweet-talk the pie into taking its clothes off; but then that's only with cherry pie.

[Oh, two can play at this game. Dean cranes back to the table again, sliding one finger through melted vanilla ice cream, sucking on it with apparent relish before pulling it out of his mouth with an obscene, audible POP.]

You'll have to excuse me, since the last time I had an apple pie this good I was about to be sacrificed to a pagan harvest god.

From:

[]

Well. Just imagine. Pie that glorious whenever you want, with no sweet-talking whatsoever.

[]

From:

[And again, Kurt's thoughts stole Santana's. HATE YOU, ~~CHERRY PIE~~ KURT.

Anyway. Santana's amused and pleased with the way Dean reacted to that. Just so you know.]

I was just asking. [Her smirking makes her seem so sincere, too.] Was the pie your last meal or something?

[She kicks Kurt's shin under the table. She can read your dirty, filthy mind, Kurt.]

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[He isn't even paying attention to them, for the most part becoming easily pulled into the allure of delicious pie once more. He laughs in good humor at Kurt's reply, though.]

Yeah, s'nice to not have to work for - mmn - something, for once. [Lickng every finger meticulously, helps himself to another piece of pie and tries to keep the heat in his cheeks from rising from being stared at so much. It feels more awkward when it's not women in a bar.]

Last meal? Something like that. They were trying to fatten me up so a Mr. Hash-Slinging-Slasher-Scarecrow could have a good time tearing open my stomach.

[He quirks another grin, the smile sort-of fading as he mumbles quietly into another bite of pie.]

But I've faced death before. [He licks his lips thoughtfully.]

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[] That...sounds extremely unpleasant.

You must face that a lot though, in your line of work. Death, possible disembowelment... It sounds very dangerous. I can't imagine being in that situation.

[]

It's very courageous of you.

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[Santana basically snorts derisively at Kurt's little act. She is ~~mostly~~ above faking weakness to snare guys. But then, maybe Kurt's not faking it OH SNAP.]

That's super gross. The stomach-tearing part, not the rest. [The way she talks, Dean could be talking about nothing more than stubbing a toe.] Plus like, what a waste of a last meal.

[NOM NOM BREADSTICK.]

Edited Date: 2010-11-04 12:01 am (UTC)

From:

Face death and dismemberment a lot? You have no idea. [Dean offers him a casual grin, pausing in the consumption of pie to scribble little designs on his plate with his fork.] That's isn't quite the half of it. And don't knock pie, sweetheart. [Dean points his cutlery at Santana accusingly, raising an eyebrow before changing back to his original subject.]

Y'know the monsters you used to think were under your bed, or in your closet? You know why you were afraid of the dark as a kid? 'Cause it's all real. Everything. And this shit isn't a Mulder-and-Scully, Casper the Friendly Ghost kind-of-scary. This is really real.

[His expression seems to brighten at Kurt's comment about bravery, though.] Courage isn't part of it. It's just what we do. Saving people, hunting things...the family business. [Dean relinquishes his fork to the tabletop, reaching up to finger the amulet around his neck.]

...and besides, [He waggles his eyebrows, putting up that usual Dean Winchester bravado.] Danger is my middle name.

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[]

'Danger', hm? It sounds like it suits you.

[]

What's that? Is it Tiffany & Co?

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That's...really creepy. Remind me not to pass through your world like, ever. I really don't feel like dying any time soon, especially by supernatural creatures.

[She taps her remaining breadstick against the table, then reaches over and steals a cucumber from Kurt's salad.]

Ugh. What dressing did you use?

[That done, she'll peer at Dean's amulet as well!]

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