Bela Talbot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
enjoythe_ride) wrote2008-04-02 11:01 am
enjoythe_ride) wrote2008-04-02 11:01 am
[TBS] Lady Astor/Winston Churchill conversation
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prettywhnbroken used with the permission of his mun.]
Lady Astor: “If I were married to you, I'd put poison in your coffee.”
Winston Churchill: “If you were my wife, I'd drink it.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this again.”
“You can’t believe you’re doing this again?” She could feel the ‘you gotta be shitting me’ look Dean was giving her through her shoulders, even though she wasn’t facing him. She didn’t need to be, really. She knew the look well enough—the benefit of hating each other for so long.
“Remember the last time I took you to a black tie affair?” she said, turning back to him and confirming that that was indeed the look on his face. “You stuck your chewing gum to the champagne fountain.”
“Well, where else was I supposed to put it?” he said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t exactly see a trash can lying around.”
“There are other options then sticking it on the place where people are going to get their drinks for the rest of the evening,” Bela replied, fixing him with a glare. “Think we can be a better well behaved this time around?” And yes, that may have been slightly condescending as she said it, but she couldn’t help it. Dealing with Dean Winchester was like dealing with an oversized two year-old. You needed to put on your kid gloves and explain things as simply as possible.
It was rather annoying.
Dean just shot her back an annoyed look before starting to fidget with his tie again. Bela just shook her head, before taking his arm and pulling him towards the door. “It looks fine. Let’s go.”
“Not so fast, sweetheart—we gotta clear up a couple things first,” he replied, leaning back against the pull of her weight. Bela huffed slightly, and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“And what would that be, exactly?”
“Why did you want me on this job?”
“I thought we established this,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You need to get to the remains that are stored in the basement of the museum; I need to get my hands on an artifact. Both of these goals can be achieved by going to this party.”
“And so you just decided to do me a favor and get me in?” Dean replied, giving her a skeptical look.
“I needed an escort, you needed an in. I don’t see what the big deal is, Dean.”
“You could have found an escort somewhere in this town—you’ve definitely got the legs for it.”
“Believe it or not, Dean, I’m capable of recognizing a mutually beneficial relationship when I see one.” Bela chose to ignore the objectifying comment and frowned more. “Do you always look a gift horse in the mouth?”
“Only when it’s you,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “What’s the catch, Bela?”
“There is no catch, Dean.”
“Forgive me if I don’t exactly believe that,” he said stubbornly. “Because the last time you said something along those lines, you stole the Colt.”
“And you got it back, didn’t you?” she said, glaring back at him. “There’s no catch, Dean. We really don’t have time for this.”
“Fine,” Dean grumbled. She studied him for a minute, brushing some lint off the front of his suit before starting to head towards the door again.
“Now, can we go—please?”
“Uh-huh.” And then came the smirk. She really didn’t want to ask, considering that he was moving, and it really wasn’t going to do her very much good, but she had a feeling she was going to find out anyway.
“What now?”
“You still want to have angry sex with me.”
“Oh, God.” Once. She said that once and apparently it was going to haunt her for the rest of her days. She started to pick up the pace ahead of him, wanting to avoid this conversation as much as possible.
“Admit it, Talbot—you let me in on this just so that you could see me dressed up in a tux again.”
“Dean, you bring up that comment again, and you may find yourself high and dry once we get to the museum, understand?”
“You know, it’s alright to admit it. I mean, you’re only human after all, and well—I am just that damn pretty.”
Bela stopped, and looked up at him, staring at him for a moment, before reaching up and smacking him upside the head, hard.
“Son of a—” Dean winced, bringing his hand up to rub the spot, and glaring at her. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“Bring that up again, and it’ll be a bullet, not a hand. Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” he grumbled, before she stalked out of the room ahead of him. Once she was far enough out of earshot, he smirked, continuing to rub the back of his head lightly. “She so wants me.”
“Are you coming, or not?”
“Yes, dear,” he said dryly, before picking up the pace and following after her.
811 words
wayward_sons21. prettywhnbroken used with the permission of his mun.]Lady Astor: “If I were married to you, I'd put poison in your coffee.”
Winston Churchill: “If you were my wife, I'd drink it.”
“I can’t believe I’m doing this again.”
“You can’t believe you’re doing this again?” She could feel the ‘you gotta be shitting me’ look Dean was giving her through her shoulders, even though she wasn’t facing him. She didn’t need to be, really. She knew the look well enough—the benefit of hating each other for so long.
“Remember the last time I took you to a black tie affair?” she said, turning back to him and confirming that that was indeed the look on his face. “You stuck your chewing gum to the champagne fountain.”
“Well, where else was I supposed to put it?” he said, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t exactly see a trash can lying around.”
“There are other options then sticking it on the place where people are going to get their drinks for the rest of the evening,” Bela replied, fixing him with a glare. “Think we can be a better well behaved this time around?” And yes, that may have been slightly condescending as she said it, but she couldn’t help it. Dealing with Dean Winchester was like dealing with an oversized two year-old. You needed to put on your kid gloves and explain things as simply as possible.
It was rather annoying.
Dean just shot her back an annoyed look before starting to fidget with his tie again. Bela just shook her head, before taking his arm and pulling him towards the door. “It looks fine. Let’s go.”
“Not so fast, sweetheart—we gotta clear up a couple things first,” he replied, leaning back against the pull of her weight. Bela huffed slightly, and crossed her arms in front of her chest.
“And what would that be, exactly?”
“Why did you want me on this job?”
“I thought we established this,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You need to get to the remains that are stored in the basement of the museum; I need to get my hands on an artifact. Both of these goals can be achieved by going to this party.”
“And so you just decided to do me a favor and get me in?” Dean replied, giving her a skeptical look.
“I needed an escort, you needed an in. I don’t see what the big deal is, Dean.”
“You could have found an escort somewhere in this town—you’ve definitely got the legs for it.”
“Believe it or not, Dean, I’m capable of recognizing a mutually beneficial relationship when I see one.” Bela chose to ignore the objectifying comment and frowned more. “Do you always look a gift horse in the mouth?”
“Only when it’s you,” he said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “What’s the catch, Bela?”
“There is no catch, Dean.”
“Forgive me if I don’t exactly believe that,” he said stubbornly. “Because the last time you said something along those lines, you stole the Colt.”
“And you got it back, didn’t you?” she said, glaring back at him. “There’s no catch, Dean. We really don’t have time for this.”
“Fine,” Dean grumbled. She studied him for a minute, brushing some lint off the front of his suit before starting to head towards the door again.
“Now, can we go—please?”
“Uh-huh.” And then came the smirk. She really didn’t want to ask, considering that he was moving, and it really wasn’t going to do her very much good, but she had a feeling she was going to find out anyway.
“What now?”
“You still want to have angry sex with me.”
“Oh, God.” Once. She said that once and apparently it was going to haunt her for the rest of her days. She started to pick up the pace ahead of him, wanting to avoid this conversation as much as possible.
“Admit it, Talbot—you let me in on this just so that you could see me dressed up in a tux again.”
“Dean, you bring up that comment again, and you may find yourself high and dry once we get to the museum, understand?”
“You know, it’s alright to admit it. I mean, you’re only human after all, and well—I am just that damn pretty.”
Bela stopped, and looked up at him, staring at him for a moment, before reaching up and smacking him upside the head, hard.
“Son of a—” Dean winced, bringing his hand up to rub the spot, and glaring at her. “What the hell did you do that for?”
“Bring that up again, and it’ll be a bullet, not a hand. Are we clear?”
“Crystal,” he grumbled, before she stalked out of the room ahead of him. Once she was far enough out of earshot, he smirked, continuing to rub the back of his head lightly. “She so wants me.”
“Are you coming, or not?”
“Yes, dear,” he said dryly, before picking up the pace and following after her.
811 words
ooc
Re: ooc