shatterverse | (no subject)

Current Location: Metropolis

Entry tags:

(no subject)

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Rachel stops smiling.

Her mother's briefcase on the kitchen countertop.

She flips the book in front of her closed and swings her legs a bit more. "What're you doing here so late? You don't really seem the academic type."

"Got a project." Dean lifts a paperback from his pocket and smirks a little. "On the nuthouse farm."

Rachel makes a face, though she cant help but smirk a little at the same time. "For all you whine about it, you spend an awful lot of time over there."

"Yeah, they've got a couple ghosts."

It's an explanation, if nothing else.

"More adulterous dead people?"

"Nah. Couple of teenage girls. One's still alive. One wants t'be."

"Huh." She swings her legs a bit more, hands folding on top of the book in front of her while her shoulders roll in a stretch. "So you're just here for research. Heading back to the farm."

"Yeah. And t'catch up with you guys, letcha know what's going on."

He shrugs. It's stupid to lose touch with the only people you know in the place.

"Wanna come?"

Rachel's reaction is as follows: one eyebrow arched high, lips pulled to the side, leaning back a little. In short, this is not a reaction she expected from a guy that probably does not like her.

"To the farm? To help you with a job?"

Dean leans back agains tthe wall, shrugging. "Don't care. If y'wanna. You might be useful."

"Why? You need that girl off your back specifically or just a general distraction?"

She can't imagine why else he'd be asking her to go to the farm.

Dean's confused.

"... what?"

Rachel frowns and gets to her feet, walking on the rafter back toward the bookshelf she'd used to climb up there. She's never been very good at the balance beam but she's been working on it the last few weeks and walks the rafter fairly well.

"You were spying that night in the woods," she points out, not bothering to raise her voice while she walks away. "Steph practically threatened my life if I went near the farm. Why should I go?"

"Oh yeah, that." Dean frowns, and shrugs. "I wasn't spying. You weren't exactly quiet."

Obviously this is more important than giving her a reason.

"You could have walked away."

Further arguments will have to wait until she's climbed down, sliding the book she was reading onto the nearest shelf. "Asked Jo yet?"

Dean watches her climb, but then any straight man would.,

"Yeah. She might."

At least she's wearing jeans over her morphing outfit - and is in a good enough mood to ignore the watching. Rachel leans against the bookshelf, brows lifted and curious.

"All set then, aren't you?"

Dean rolls his eyes. "Christ, this again? Can you just give a yes or a no?"

Rachel's lips twitch again - into a smirk. "I don't know about you, but getting into screaming matches with insane superhero-wannabes isn't my idea of fun, and you already know ghost-hunting isn't on my list of skills. I'm not saying anything about anyone, other than wondering why you need me."

"You're not that bad at it," Dean says, frowning. "Might use a hand, is all. Forget it."

They didn't want her anyway.

Yeah.

And those grapes were probably sour.

Rachel considers this for a moment, tongue between her teeth.

"...what's the job?"

Dean raises one eyebrow, frowning.

"... gettin' a girl back into her body. Bringing a different girl back from the dead."

Rachel considers this a little more, looking a bit more perplexed.

"...so ...nothing that needs to actually be fought."

"Not unless we get lucky."

Dean looks slightly wistful. He likes fights.

Rachel is slightly useless if there isn't a fight. If anything, she looks uncomfortable, arms crossing. "...I appreciate it. I'm just not seeing what exactly what I'd be a help with."