http://hector-aframian.livejournal.com/ (
hector-aframian.livejournal.com) wrote in
shatterverse2008-10-18 06:51 pm
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Dean has been back in Metropolis for a while.
He just hasn't gone to see the girls. The thought of the bitching they're gonna dish out for him taking off is a bit offputting -- and besides, he really needs to find more books with some reliable information for the farm ghost situation.
(Or at least, that's an excuse.)
He's in what's left of the Metropolis City Library at the moment, poking through old reference books with dirty hands and occasionally shoving a near-priceless tome roughly into his knapsack. Dean's respect for books, let him show you it.
He just hasn't gone to see the girls. The thought of the bitching they're gonna dish out for him taking off is a bit offputting -- and besides, he really needs to find more books with some reliable information for the farm ghost situation.
(Or at least, that's an excuse.)
He's in what's left of the Metropolis City Library at the moment, poking through old reference books with dirty hands and occasionally shoving a near-priceless tome roughly into his knapsack. Dean's respect for books, let him show you it.
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Jo doesn't like the building, half broken open and crumbling.
But she walks up the stairs, with a bored semi-frown, determined.
There's a backpack today, slung over one shoulder, hanging low against her ass. Her hair is still wet at the bottom of the curls and her clothes are, well, as neat as one can ever get with a hunter finding a fight every day.
At the rustle from the far side, her hand reflexively curls back to rest against the gun in the back of her jeans. She inched forward until she could see what was making the noise.
Her hand relaxed, but not her posture.
"So you're back."
Now if only the edges of her lips wouldn't quirk upward when she said that.
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It's always nice to see Jo. Someone from home. ... Something like that.
"That's what the rumours say," he agrees. "Don't believe everything y'hear though."
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The quirk was heading toward a half smile, hands coming to rest on her hips.
"Then I'd have to think there might be extenuating circumstances behind you leaving messages for me."
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Dean has the decency to look slightly shamefaced.
"You got a message, what more d'you want?"
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"A flame thrower. Obviously."
She moved through the middle space, looking at the the dilapidated cases and the title markers that had once cataloged them.
It would be a better apology, after all. She'd have faith in it.
Also, fire was just damn nice, especially in a mechanized toy fashion.
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She looked over the contents of the shelves.
They were hardly the first people to come to this conclusion.
"So what're you looking for in this glorious shit hole?"
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He could really use Sam.
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"A hunt?"
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It creaked as it took her weight.
"For?"
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"Girl calls herself Sparrow, someone shoveed her out and took her body. She's still alive, that one. There's another."
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Not giving a damn about the story.
Trying to figure out where the angle of why Dean gave a fuck was.
This was Dean, don't give a crap about anyone, Winchester for fuck's sake.
Her face was very much in oh, go on doubtful phase.
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He'd say no more, but then ... well, it's Jo.
(He's not sure yet why Jo is an exception to all the rules, but ... there it is.)
"... her brother asked me."
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Then she nodded, looking back to the bookshelf.
Because Sam mattered above all else.
Even when he wasn't here.
"Find anything helpful?"
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(He deserves it. He's earned it even.)
She should think about the hunt she has lined up two days from now.
(She's planned it for the last day and half. It's why she's here.)
But Jo turns her head, copper eyes uncertain. They look sharply doubtful because it's less telling than the uncertainty.
(Or the fact she already knows how she wants to answer that question.)
"You need company?"
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"Don't need anything. Thought you might like it." He shrugs, and looks slightly shifty. "... or might be able t'help."
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She tapped her close clipped nails on the shelf twice.
"There a game plan, or time scale?"
A hint of sanity in her head that she wasn't just going to pelmel jump at the chance to follow Dean winchester like some stupid school girl puppy only weeks after she saw what that did again?
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Wait, shit, Jo doesn't know. He changes the subject sharply.
"So we'll figure somethin' out. You got anything keepin' y'here?"
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She'd told Jack and Rachel as much.
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Could one not fuck or fight stupidity out of ones system?
Why the hell was she smiling faintly, even as she shook her head and rolled her eyes.
"She'll probably be up for it. We've been doing runs out while you were gone."
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He's in an absurdly good mood, now. (And it's not related to Jo's agreeing to come at all -- it's not. No.)
"I'll try t'get us matching gold lame overalls. Kansas Ghostbusters."
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"Like you can talk."
Before wrinkling her nose disgusted.
"See, now you're just trying to make me want to say in this fucked up town."
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