Nah-nah-nah-fishing!

[riversideblues]

Dean is still feeling like shit, but he is itching to get back outside and to enjoy the one chance he has got to enjoy a little r&r and with box full of pepto tucked away into the trunk of his beloved 67' Impala. Dean has driven himself to a nice lake to do a little fishing and maybe some drinking if his stomach permits it. But so far, things have improved since his meeting with the monk or so he wants to think.

With his car in park, Dean is enjoying the cool fall air and it doesn't seem to bother him that it is getting a bit nippy and there is a slim chance he'll catch anything. And soon he's sitting out there in front of the lake in with his ass parked in a cheap lawn chair, pepto in hand, and a fishing pole sitting down at his side. Bliss, if this is his new heaven he won't complain except for well some minor things.

"I feel like I've deserved this. So what do people like to do in order to relax in these parts? And what have you done lately that makes you feel like you've deserved a vacation?" Dean reclines back in his chair, and he listens to the sound of a Styx cassette playing from the speakers of the Impala. "Hard-mode: No saving the world or universe from whatever apocalypse your home faced."

Comments

[barre_none]

"Oh, I wish." His guess gets a smirk out of her as she settles on the grass, loosely crossing her legs. "No, not quite that glamorous. I'm a dancer."

While she's not sure what he's drinking, it doesn't seem as though he's enjoying it much judging by the look on his face, but she's guessing she probably shouldn't ask.

"What about you, what do you do?"

[riversideblues]

"Sweetheart, music isn't about glamour, it is about singing shit that comes from the heart or gut." Dean nods his head towards his car as the music continues to play. "So what kind of dancer are you?"

He doesn't answer her question right away as he goes to drink another mouthful of pepto.

But eventually he does. "I'm a hunter of the things that live in people's closets. Hunter of the supernatural, yada, yada, yada."

[barre_none]

"Touche." The music isn't anything Grace really recognises, but she doesn't mention it, instead going to answer his second question. "Ballet; the big bad."

His answer, on the other hand, makes her turn to him with a raised brow.

"That's not something you hear everyday.." At first she doesn't think he's being serious, but he doesn't look as though he's kidding either. As she looks back out to the water, she starts pulling up grass, as though her hands are growing bored and need something to do. "How long have you been doing that then?"

[riversideblues]

"I thought ballerinas had tutus surgically attached to them." Dean is going to be himself, no class.

He tilts his head down to look at the fishing pole, and he picks it up after putting the bottle of pepto down on the grass. He goes to reel in the whole lot of nothing back to shore. "How so? This place isn't exactly Kansas. As for how long, I've been in the family business for as long as I can remember. And I don't see myself doing anything else."

Sure, a vacation at times is nice to clear his head, but domestic life isn't his style.

[barre_none]

That's fine - she can roll with it, this time with a look of feigned seriousness. "Oh, we do. I've recently recovered from my tutuectomy. Risky procedure, took hours."

If she'd been here longer, maybe she would have agreed with him. But as far as she's aware, monsters and things-that-live-in-closets aren't real, and so hearing that someone has somehow made a career of hunting them is sort of difficult to imagine.

"True - I've just never met anyone who does it for a living."

[riversideblues]

"I thought for a moment that maybe I'd be happy as a roadie or a mechanic. Now that's not to say I don't do the mechanic stuff." Dean nods his head over towards the Impala with a prideful smile on his face. "

And I'm a damn good mechanic, but I just can't ever see myself doing the whole regular job thing."

He turns his head back to the worm that dangles from the hook at the end of the fishing pole. "I take it people don't do the whole paranormal shit where you come from."