Topic: Lady Luck

Dean Winchester

Date: 2011-04-27 19:54 EST
Red Dragon Great Hall Monday, April 25th...

Dean had been to the Great Hall a few times. It was one of those places you could come to where you might actually find some peace and quiet. He'd never seen anyone tending bar here, so the drinks were usually free, which was a bonus.

Clover made a winding path through the back garden into the hall. She wore a black poets' top that had long sleeves and was fairly sheer, giving away the blush of pink covering her chest beneath. It was paired with grey jeans, designed with a sheen of silver to them and black heels. A silver four-leaf clover hung from a thin chain that rested closely against her neck. Entering the Great Hall, blue-grey eyes glanced about.

He was seated at a table, leaning back in the chair, booted feet propped up on the table, wearing his usual non-descript jeans, t-shirt, and flannel, drinking a beer in the middle of the day and contemplating....something.

The door had been held open as she looked around. Spotting Dean, she considered him quietly, then stepped away from the door—shutting it with enough force for it to make a noise, though it felt short from being a full on slam.

His heard turned when the door slammed and when he saw who it was, he uttered a small groan. "Stalking me, Red" Come to claim the goods?" Just the previous night, he'd lost a game of poker to her, and he knew she'd come to collect on the debt he owed sooner or later.

She smiled, "Red? I think you can come up with a better pet name than that Dean." moving to the bar where she fetched down a bottle of Jack—skipping a glass. "No, not stalking. I just have lucky timing." A twist to her lips. She said nothing about collecting on debts owed as she made her way over to his table.

"Give me a while and I'll come up with something a little more original." He left his feet where they were on the table, making no move to either encourage or discourage her company, only tilting his beer back for another swallow.

Fresh bottle of Jack, once opened the cap was set on the top of his table. She leaned her backside against the table top, near to where he was sitting so that she was looking to him with only the slightly turn of her head as she lifted the bottle to her lips and took a long pull.

"I could have used a little luck last night," he muttered, mostly to himself.

She looked over him, "You're still in one piece. Who's to say that wasn't the luck you received."

He snorted. "I wasn't worried about Quinn. Mack is another matter. I think she wanted to rip my throat out."

Clover searched her memory. She had met Quinn once, but hadn't been well introduced to her friend. Still, even a blind man could have seen the daggers Mack had been staring at Dean. "You'd have been lucky if she stopped at just tearing out your throat." There's Clover for you, always looking on the bright side. There could have been worse!

Dean Winchester

Date: 2011-04-27 19:55 EST
"Yeah, well....I probably deserve it," he said glumly and took another sip of his beer.

"Why's that?" Looking as curious as she sounded as the Jack stopped before reaching her lips.

"We were engaged." Plain and simple, were being the key word.

"And now you're not. Why?" The bottle was set down beside the abandoned cap. Turning to rest her hip against the table's side as she regarded him.

"Because I left. I didn't belong here."

Puzzlement. Her features expressed some sorrow for Dean's expression of feeling like he didn't belong. For someone outside of herself, for mortals, it seemed an awful thing. But her thoughts drifted to recollect the jest of soulmates and holding the mirror up to herself, she knew much the same held true. She really didn't belong anywhere, though she went and stayed where she pleased. Her hand reached out, touching his leg that was stretched out to the table. Offering comfort in more than just the gesture, but also with the touch.

He lifted a brow at her, a little surprised by the gesture, especially coming from her. He'd thought there was only one thing she wanted from him and that was pleasure of the flesh, and while he wasn't opposed to the idea, he was starting to realize there was far more to her than there seemed. "I didn't come here by choice and I didn't leave by choice either." He tried to explain.

"That is the worst, I suppose. Having no options." There was a flicker of something at the edge of her lips, her eyes, sorrow that melted away into some silence acceptance. Apologetic smile, but for why it was unclear. She took her hand away with a pat. "What made you leave?" Still leaning against the table beside him, rather than sitting.

"Sam," he said simply without further explanation, though it was far more complicated than that. He followed that with a long swallow from the bottle of beer.

A nod, recalling the manner of the two young boys when first she saw them. Clover had no siblings, but she could somewhere understand the bond between them. "So you'll leave again?"

He lowered the bottle momentarily. "I don't belong here. My life is....back there." There meaning Earth. Home. "I'm a hunter, Clover. It's all I've ever been. What am I supposed to hunt here? Sam and I did what we came to do and now it's time to go home." He didn't mention the clan of vampires Quinn and Mack were hunting. If Quinn wanted his help, she'd ask for it, but he had a feeling she wouldn't.

Blue-greys took in the interior of the hall, "There are many things here worth hunting, everywhere there is beauty, something dark lingers." Said the beauty, turning sympathetic eyes to Dean, "Your home, though, would probably appreciate it more than those in this land would."

He glanced at the beer bottle, idly picking at the label with a thumbnail. "We try to help people, me and Sam. Save them. But we can't save everyone." He closed his eyes briefly, unable to hide the sadness from his voice or his face. "We can't save them all."

Dean might want to put his feet down cause he's getting a lap full on Clover. The better to put her arms around his neck, head resting over his shoulder as she held him tightly.The hold firm, for his comfort—maybe her own. Not being able to save people isn't a burden for just hunters. Warmth of spring, subtle scent of wildflowers, and the flow of welcoming comfort surround her.

Once again surprised by the outpouring of comfort, he dropped his feet to the floor and set his beer on the table, finding himself suddenly with a lapful of Clover, her arms wrapped around his neck. He caught the scent of spring, warm and comforting, and inhaled deeply, breath catching in his throat. He slid his arms around her waist and buried his face in her hair, suddenly reminded of Lilli and how she'd tried to do the same thing, heart aching with the knowledge nothing was forever. Everything was temporary. Live for today, for each moment, because that was all he or anyone really had.

Dean Winchester

Date: 2011-04-27 19:56 EST
Clover couldn't confront the ghosts of her life, but she could give what she could to help Dean with truths they knew all too well. Remaining in that position for some time, before pulling back far enough to allow her gaze to rest upon his features. She gave him a supportive smile, feeling even with the clutter of life, Dean would find the strength to carry on. It was a look that said she understood his troubles and had faith in his ability to handle them.

He pulled away enough to be able to return her gaze, searching her eyes a moment as if trying to read her thoughts, his arms still around her waist, in no hurry to break the contact.

Clover's lips turned into a winning smile. Head canted just a bit, "You are a remarkable creature, Dean." Mortals, with their short life spans and all the weight on each of their shoulders. Earth one of her favorite places to visit, to watch them at their work and play. They were as amazing as the stars.

There was that look of surprise on his face again, her remark unexpected. He didn't think he was remarkable or special in any way. If he had his choice, he'd much rather live a normal life than the one he'd had forced on him, but had accepted the day his father had put his brother in his arms and told him to get him out of their burning home. "Why do you say that?"

"Because it's true." Not at all questioning her assessment of him. She grinned, lifting a hand to his cheek, thumb stroking over the surface. "I'm not one for lying, Dean." Little goddess pulling on authority in her words, facts were facts.

Green eyes searched hers again, her gentle touch tugging at his heart, stirring feelings he wasn't sure he wanted to acknowledge, wondering what it was she really wanted, if she wanted anything at all. "I can't figure you out."

"Do you need to?" The hand slid from his cheek, to rest on his chest. Her other arm still over his shoulder as she remained in his lap.

He seemed to consider that a moment. He had no reason not to believe her and thus far, she'd only helped him, not harmed him. He wasn't quite sure what it was about her that made him hesitate. Maybe just the knowledge that she was immortal, though he couldn't deny all they had in common. He reached up and laid a hand against her cheek before finally replying. "No."

Smile turned pleased, for he offered her acceptance for what she was and what he knew about her. As open as she liked to be, there were parts that even she didn't want put under the microscope. Watching his eyes, she offered him this honesty, "I don't want anything from you Dean that you wouldn't want to give. I don't ask of anyone that which I am unable to offer—like commitment. I try to help make life a little better where and when I can....in my own way."

He was touched by her admission, sensing she was offering something of herself and more than just a physical means of comfort, but he wasn't sure what exactly it was she was offering. The only thing he could hope for was a temporary distraction, something to help him forget about life for awhile. Was that what she was offering" He was tempted to tell her she couldn't help him, but he sensed she already knew that. Instead, his hand slid around to the back of her neck and he pulled her close for a kiss, letting his actions speak louder than words.

The press of his lips, again to her own. She found his boldness refreshing, something often hinted at in these parts but rarely followed up on. She appreciated him for being him and being with her in that moment. Returning the kiss in kind as it was given.

He deepened the kiss, letting it linger, losing himself and his worries for a moment in the sweetness of that kiss, before pulling slowly and reluctantly away. He'd had a taste of her now and wanted more. "Are you collecting on my debt?"

"Mm." One hand moving to toy with his flannel, "I take it you are ready to pay?" Sweet smile, her eyes sparkled with delight.

Dean Winchester

Date: 2011-04-27 20:00 EST
"Think you can handle it?" he smiled back, the first smile since she'd interrupted his drinking binge.

She chuckled, softly. Smile blossoming with a mixture of seeing his own again and the question he asked. "I think you'll find I can handle it very well." Tracing his lower lip with a light finger before brushing a short kiss there at the end of her words. "Where to?"

He returned that kiss, his hand trailing down against her back, eyes moving over her admiringly. "Not Room 29, unless you want to charge Sam admission."

"Some things should be private." Watching him a moment before lifting from his lap. Her fingers moving to entwine in his. "My place it is."

He tangled his fingers with hers and moved to his feet, almost drawn to her, like a magnet or a moth to a flame, hoping not to get burned.

The rest of the afternoon and most of the evening would be spent in each other's arms, doing whatever they could to forget about life for a while.

(Note: Dean's age in this scene is 32. He has now reached his true age and regained all his memories.)