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A lunchdate for ladies. And Dean.
Food Lovin'
Having given Buffy the address of the motel both he and Cas are holed up in, Dean's both trying to keep a low profile and keep a look out for the Slayer, sandwich in one hand and his other hand buried in his pocket. He doesn't want to make Cas feel any sicker than he already does by eating in front of him, but the truth is, like always, he's starving. That and he has the vague idea that he's starting to annoy an already cranky ex-angel.

He tries to keep his attention on the parking lot, but the sandwich really is awesome and he's definitely going back to the diner to get another one the next chance he gets. Buffy and Cas can keep their soup. This sandwich is perfection.

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She'd driven - albeit badly- to the directions. Buffy was never one to follow directions well, even when she had the best of intentions. Coulda been a gene thing, coulda been the slayer thing. Who knew. She's walking down the road with her badly parked junk car behind her, meter fed with a quarter and a few dimes. Who knew? She might be a while.

Which was fine, of course.

Mmm, soup. She puts a little bit more of a perk in her step.

He's spent the past few hours watching television shows that he isn't entirely sure he can remember the titles of. Despite the fact he isn't anywhere near as tired as he's been over the past week, his attention span isn't quite there, and it's not really something he misses. Not when the newest pair of characters on the screen break in to a long winded proclamation of love. It's something he's sure happened in the last few episodes too, and he's fairly certain it'll be happening again the longer he watches. The thought is enough to prompt him to switch the television off and turn his attention toward his favorite subject. The man who seems to be trying to keep his distance today.

"The bed's more comfortable if you want to sit here instead." He tries to make it sound like a suggestion, but he doesn't manage to hide the request in his voice anywhere near as well as he wants.

Forcing down the rest of the sandwich before he turns around, Dean has those extra few seconds to spot a familiar blonde heading their direction. Neither of them have seen Buffy in months, but she looks the same as ever. The same spring in her step. It's that spring he's hoping will do Cas some good too. He's not exactly Mister Happy much of the time, and though he's heard what the other man has said, he thinks he's still starting to be the guy who's always saying no. He doesn't like being that guy, but Cas is sick and right now his only priority is getting him better again.

"We got a visitor." He answers, not really acknowledging that yeah, the bed is more comfortable and he does want to get back on it, but not when he's going to have to go open the door in a second. He does offer up a smile though, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand to remove the last few traces of his sandwich from his face. He's lucky not to be covered in sauce.

Buffy looks down at the paper with her chicken scratch on it. She had to be getting close. A smile forms on her lips. It's been so long, and they are her friends. Good friends whom she genuinely likes to be around. The bottom line is, is that she really was excited. And... well, hungry of course.

When she looks down at the paper one last time to triple check the numbers, she crumples it, shoves it in her purse, and waltzes up to the door balling her fist getting ready to lightly knock on the door. Sunglasses still on her face, she takes a small breath and keeps the smile on her face. Even if she wanted to, there'd be no hiding her excitement.

He pushes himself up from the mountain of pillows the moment Dean mentions a visitor, knowing that there's only one person who'd be able to find them right now. The thought of getting something to eat is pushed far from his mind in favor of the woman who'll be delivering it. He misses Buffy, even if he hasn't said as much over the past months. But finally being back in contact with her again was enough of a reminder. And now, knowing that she's right there, he can't help the smile that appears, even as he has to put some extra effort in to trying to swing his legs out from the covers and over the edge of the bed. He at least has enough common sense to wait until she's there before attempting to get to his feet again.

He's still looking around when Buffy reaches the door, mostly because even now he can't shake off old habits like that. He knows both Heaven and Hell are still looking for them, and being separated from Sam doesn't make their location any less important.

It's only once he's satisfied she hasn't been followed that he pulls the door open, trademark grin tugging at the corners of his lips despite the fact he can't remember the last time he slept. He's spent too long watching over Cas to get any time to actually rest.

"Long time no see."

Although she'd never fully admit it, her guard stopped being fully up when she got out of the car to find their place. She's partially aware of the situation they're in, but there's just some times when she honestly can't help it.

Buffy pushes her sunglasses up from the bridge of her nose to the top of her head. Acknowledging Dean's words, she nods in agreement and in greeting. "Dean," Her smile never wavers. "It has. I'm glad to see you're looking well." She savors the moment for a second before idly looking behind him to get a glimpse of Cas.

"How's he feeling? How are you?"

"Ignore anything he says. I'm fine." His smile turns fond for a moment as Castiel glances toward Dean. "He just worries too much sometimes." Which is something he wouldn't ever change about the hunter. Despite knowing the extra weight it's putting on his shoulders, Castiel still likes the fact that there's someone out there that still cares about him. Even after his rebellion.

He takes another moment then, pushing himself onto his feet and doing his best to ignore the point where his legs feel like jelly. He hasn't been up since his last bathroom break, so his limbs are slightly uncooperative. But he pushes through it in favor of making his way toward the pair, grabbing ahold of Dean's hand once it's in reach. It's an automatic movement given the fact he hasn't looked away from Buffy yet.

"Thank you for coming, Buffy." It's the only warning he gives before stepping forward to wrap his arms
around the slayer and pulling her into a hug, whether she wants it or not. He isn't a fan of holding himself back around people he cares about.

He barely gets his mouth open before an answer has already been offered. It's not come from his lips though, and instead of trying to tack anything onto the end of Cas's answer, he instead twists his head to look at the man.

"I don't worry." Which is a complete lie, but the way he's watching Cas's every step, ready to step in at a moment's notice if he gets into trouble betrays him. It's not until Cas is grabbing his hand and then hugging Buffy that he feels any sort of relief from that worry. He lets them get their girly moment out of the way before he speaks again.

"We're okay. Uh, relatively." What he means is, outside of the sickness, that couple of hours stint in jail and being unable to find Sam, they haven't been used as a demon or angel punching bag lately. It's around then that he glances out of the window, checking again that nobody else has followed Buffy. No matter how much he's teased the two of them about their soup lunchdate, he actually does want it to go without a hitch. Even if it's not his thing, he wants Cas to have a nice time. They don't get the chance for that very often.

Buffy held onto Cas tightly for a moment. She'd observed the two men quietly. Their nonverbals, their penchant for each other. It made her happy. It made her even more happy to see that neither one of them have changed since the last time she saw them. Aside, of course, from Cas being sick. "I'm glad I did come," she responds still in the tight hug.

She pulls away and turns her hard back to Dean with a sly smile. "So, are you ready for a soup lunch date?" Oh yeah, she missed this. Them. Crossing her arms, she waited for a rebuttal. Or a complaint.

"Oh!" She reached into her rather large bag and pulled out a DVD, before handing it to Cas. The Last Of The Mohicans.

"Here. It's one of those corny ones I was talking about, but I think it's Dean friendly, too. Maybe."

It's natural to him now; the moment he's stepping away from Buffy his hand seeks out Dean's again. Once he realizes though, all he does is tighten that grip without once taking his eyes off their guest. When the DVD is offered over, he tales it with a thankful look, but it's not long before it turns to confusion. One that comes courtesy of the title of the film.

"The last? But they still exist." Unless this is just another time his memory is playing up. It's a question he doesn't want to know the answer to. Not when it could lead to bringing up an issue he'd sooner forget. Instead, he just shakes his head and passes the movie to Dean. Whether the man wants to or not, he's going to end up watching it all with him.

"I think I'm still hungry." He hasn't eaten much over the past few weeks. Even less since e started bringing it back up again. But he's willing to give it another try. Especially since Buffy's come all the way to see them.

Dean's too far past feeling weird about having his hand held by another dude. He's too far past feeling weird about a lot of things because it's Cas, and that makes a difference. He grabs ahold of the DVD as it's passed over, sparing a cursory glance at the front before shaking his head. He could think of worse choices, sure, but it's hardly Die Hard.

"I guess you're gonna want that soup then." It's not that he minds playing nursemaid all that much. He used to do the same for Sam. Truthfully, he thinks it's going to be good for Cas to get some company outside of him. He's not the easiest guy to get on with sometimes.

"I suck at soup." It's the part where he isn't volunteering himself to heat it up. He's already tempted to head out to the diner just up the street while Cas and Buffy eat their liquid.

ooc: >.> I'm really sorry this is ridiculously delayed. Blame moving. >|

About that comment that the Mohicans still exist... well, she shrugs. It's mostly the love story and the ridiculous fighting that always grabs her attention. She never was a history buff, one, and two - she had no idea if it was based on a true story or not.

So she decided to just... skip it and answer Dean's lack of volunteer work.

"Ah, well. So do I, but I'm going to make a serious effort not to burn it. Or make a mess. Or... well, honestly, it might turn into a demon after I'm done with it. Figuratively."

That was so the truth, too. She couldn't cook to save her life. That was just one gene that she seriously lacked. She shrugs in a nonchalant gesture and offers a smile. "This is why I brought a few cans for a fail safe. And, I kind of forgot what soup you guys wanted. So I just basically bought out the soup section.."

Which is fine, because Buffy likes soup on the off days she feels particularly healthy.

She opens her bag, which clearly can carry everything, and pulls out some cans.

"What sounds appetizing?"

ooc: Bah! I fail, too. <3 <3 Sorry guys!!

He snaps his mouth shut, biting off the question that'd been on the tip of his tongue at the mention of demons. He knows it's another time where he's taking things far too literally, but he isn't alert enough to be embarrassed by his confusion. Instead, he just stands there, watching as each can is brought out, and finding the choice that much more difficult as the selection widens.

"...I don't know." He glances back to Buffy, an apologetic look on his face at his own indecision. Then he gives Dean's hand another squeeze in a silent request for help. He still doesn't like having to make decisions; even the simplest of them. "I've had chicken soup before, but I don't think I can eat that right now." Not without making himself ill again, that is.

ooc; <333 /just sits on you guys

His attention wasn't really on the soup in the first place. He'd be more interested in watching paint dry than trying to pick a weirdass soup to eat. But Buffy's gone to the trouble of bringing them and Cas is squeezing his hand the way he always does when he needs help in the social sense, so he leans forward and takes a better look at all the cans appearing from the bag.

"Carrot? Like making it into soup makes it any better to eat." He snorts, and then realizes he's being too smartass when this soup business is serious. Brow furrowing slightly in concentration as he tries to pick out something that Cas would like, in the end he huffs out a breath and shrugs a shoulder.

"Vegetable soup?" It sounds like his idea of the worst thing ever to eat, but maybe there's a grain of truth in them being good if you're sick. And he knows Cas needs to eat something better than the crap he's been bringing back.

ooc: >| Just because you have high speed internet to stalk with...

"Well, okay. So maybe choosing carrot wasn't the best idea, but I thought I'd grab it just in case. I grabbed every other kind. Carrots are only good when they're not mushy and covered in ranch. But that's my opinion." Yes, the soup business is serious. Although Buffy is more than capable of arguing on the side of mushy carrots, she snaps her own mouth shut and shrugs. Because although she's capable of arguing for it, she hates them just the same.

She nods, and grabs the can. "Ohh, good choice."

Turning to Cas, since she didn't pick up on the nonverbal message, "Sound good to you?"

"I bet you'd like carrots if people started frying them." His eyes are on the can that Dean's picked out though, having to take a few attempts to decipher the label. Buffy's question comes as a welcome distraction though and he nods in response, his smile finally returning. It doesn't last long though before a yawn breaks free and he's back to looking embarrassed again. He doesn't want to go back to sleep. Not now that Buffy's arrived. But he knows just how he feels when he tries to ignore his body's needs. He decides to go for a compromise instead, and it starts with him stepping away from Dean's side.

"I think I need to sit down for a little while." He looks up toward Dean then, dropping his grip on his hand. Though not before giving it another, quick squeeze. "Will you help Buffy with the soup?" Despite knowing just how the hunter feels about tasks like cooking, he can't help but make the request, knowing that he isn't in any shape to offer his own assistance. Not if he's going to do the smart thing this time and take the break he needs. It's more about giving the slayer some company for the time being than actually doing any of the work anyway.

"Help with the soup. Right." It's not that he's unimpressed. He just doesn't really have much of a clue when it comes to cooking soup. He's hardly a frigging gourmet chef at the best of times anyway. Diner food is fine unless someone else is cooking. He heads for the small kitchenette and places the can on the side, staring at it as though that's going to help.

"So uh... you know what you're doing, right B?"

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