awesome_lilly | (no subject)

(no subject)

Lilly's in the nightclub, which is technically open but it's far too early for any patrons to wander in. She's got the place to herself and is taking full advantage of it.

There's a tall drink slowly shifting from blue to purple sitting on top of abandoned paperwork on a low table. Lilly herself is sprawled on the couch beside it, carefully painting her toenails a bright coral.

It's hard out here for a pimp/nightclub owner.

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"Putting it back together."

That drink's looking better and better.

Which means he'll be drinkin' it slow.

"Car accident."

HIs expression shuts down, kinda like it did when he told her about his Dad.

"Car- oh."

Oh.

"Well." She slides the finished drink over.

"Need any help? I don't know much about Impalas, but don't all cars look better with new paint? I hear the old school pink-aqua two tone thing is totally back in."

Dean just points at her.

"You even think about tryin' that, and I'll find a fertility ritual to keep your husband pregnant."

Yeah, he can't believe he just said that, either.

Lilly does not appear properly cowed.

"Oooh, scary. It's so intimidating when people threaten to make something exactly the same as it already is. What's next? You'll make me keep drinking?"

"Yeah, 'cause you'd really hate that."

Sure.

Uh huh.

"It would be terrible and tragic," Lilly says solemnly.

And then she has a sip of her drink.

"This where you start leaking like a waterworks?"

Because if so, this is totally where Dean books it.

After he finishes his drink.

"I'm already crying on the inside," Lilly informs him.

It might look like sarcasm, but it cloaks a secret pain! The pain of having to mix her own drinks.

"You'll be cryin' more when I snag your drink cart."

And, you know, leave with it.

"You want another?"

He can make 'em, this time.

Lilly shrugs.

"Sure, but you really should leave the cart. I employ totally scary bouncers to deal with the criminal element."

"'Cause god knows you hate the criminal element."

Dean smirks.

Edited 2008-04-08 05:34 (UTC)

"Oh, totally."

Lilly nods seriously.

"I mean, I've always led such a virtuous life. If I'm not careful, you may end up corrupting me."

"Hey, as long as I don't end up gettin' a lecture from Sammy, I'm golden."

Sam frowns on the corruption of young girls.

(Not that Dean's a fan, but we're talking about Lilly, here.)

Lilly comes pre-corrupted for your convenience!

"Sam's got enough going on," she says.

And then realizes this is not the smartest thing to say to Sam's overprotective older brother. Stupid alcohol, making her... less smart.

"Seriously, we've already discussed the hair."

Dean keeps himself busy fiddling with bottles of alcohol.

Which means it's kind of surprising when he ends up handing over plain shots of Jim Beam.

"Yeah, well. Guess he got good at multi-tasking."

At school.

Or something.

"It's a useful skill."

Lilly pokes at her shot glass.

"Seriously, how else would I be a madam and an editor and a nightclub owner and a loving wife like... five times over?"

"Doppelgangers."

What? Dean had one of his own for a while.

"Downside is a lot of 'em are fuckin' psychotic."

Lilly frowns.

"I don't have a psychotic doppelganger."

She pauses.

"Unless I am the psychotic doppelganger, which is totally possible."

"Yeah, they kinda suck."

Dean shrugs, taking another swallow of booze.

"Bein' legally dead's pretty handy, though. Sometimes."

"Legally dead, huh?"

Lilly has heard of this before.

"For tax reasons, or just for kicks?"

"Uh."

How to put this . . .

"Freaky-ass shapeshifter stole my face and cut up a bunch of girls."

His mouth quirks.

"I killed the fucker. Left the body behind, and, you know--"

Shit happened.

Lilly blinks.

"Man, I thought all the fucked-up stories happened in bar."

Puck can shapeshift, but she's pretty damn sure he's never cut up a lot of girls for fun. Stolen their children, maybe.

"Glad you got him, at least."

"Yeah."

Dean's smile is sharp and mirthless, and buried quickly in his drink.

"Not gonna argue with that one."

"You do that a lot, though."

It's not really a question.

"Take out demons and ghosts and, well. The bad shit."

"Yeah, pretty much."

He manages not to wince when she says 'demons'.

"Family business, you know how that goes."