Some Girl

Lightweight

-JENSEN'S POV-

I had waited for a slow count to twenty before approaching Scarlett after she hung up the phone. When I brought up going to a bar together, I expected her to put up more protest beyond not wanting to leave her car behind, but as soon as I shot that argument down, she followed me to my car without another word. She attempted to make some wise crack about me kidnapping her on the drive to the bar, but I quickly shot that down too, seeing as she willingly came with me.

From the moment I made my presence known to her I'd been trying to get her to open up to me about what was bothering her, even though I technically already knew because of my eavesdropping. Thinking about it, we were extremely lucky Jared or somebody else hadn't come out at any point during the exchange because it would no doubt make things incredibly awkward really fast. I took her to my favorite joint in Vancouver, a cozy nook of a place that I had stumbled upon by mistake about three years ago after a particularly long day of filming. Dani and I were fighting all the time, but still were trying hard to make it work and I was just generally overwhelmed and done with everything.

I was honestly unsure why I had brought her here, since not even Jared or Misha knew about my favorite hideaway spot. But here I was, sitting next to the newest member of the cast, sharing a Manhattan while I tried to think of ways to get her to open up.

"Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?" I pressed, nursing my drink.

"What part of 'no' don't you understand, Ackles?"

I raised an eyebrow, noting the slight flush to her cheeks as she finished off her drink and flagged down the bartender for another. It was the first time she had referred to me as something other than Douchebag to my face. I smirked into my drink as I realized she was a lightweight and the whiskey was already starting to loosen her tongue a bit. If the slip up was any indication, I wouldn't have to work too hard for too long before she would be spilling her deepest darkest secrets to me.

"I'm just saying," I continued as if I hadn't realized anything, "that was some breakdown you had. Nobody's judging if you wanted to vent a bit."

Instead of answering, she took another swig from her glass.

"Just because you have a pretty face that happens to be the same one as my celebrity crush doesn't mean I'm going to pour my heart out to you," she said after a beat.

I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing. That phone call really messed her up if she had already drunk enough to say something like that to me. I wasn't sure if she just didn't care, or if she honestly didn't realize how much the alcohol was effecting her. She had to know she was a lightweight on some level, and part of me wondered why she didn't bring it up as an argument for not going drinking with me. Not that it would have mattered.

"Just going to ignore your impossibly green eyes that turn the color of whiskey in a certain light and your stubble lined jaw and those full, kissable lips, and the fact I've wanted you since I saw you in that stupid pilot and going to sit here drinking my drink."

"Is that all you're going to do?" I teased, my tone going right over her head.

"I'm not stupid. I know I don't have a chance with you, Jensen. After everything that happened with Danneel and the fact that you two have JJ, of course I wouldn't stand a chance. I've accepted that fact. All I'll ever be is the co-star who plays your love interest and calls you a douchebag all the time, and I'm okay with that. Really, I am."

I didn't know if her little speech was more amusing or sad. As she called for a third Manhattan, I began to realize she probably knew exactly what effect the alcohol had on her and she just had decided she didn't care. This girl who I hadn't been able to stop thinking about for over a month had resigned herself to the fact that if she ever bothered fostering a relationship with me, it would be nothing more than a friendship. And as much as she insisted she was okay with that, I could see right through the lie.

"Could I get a water?" I asked the next time the bar fly came over in our direction.

Scarlett might be getting drunk, but I was determined to keep a clear head tonight. Not only was I driving, but chances were I would have to help her out when we finally decided to leave. I pushed my barely touched Manhattan aside, pouring the water bottle into the glass the bartender had left in front of me and taking a sip.

"Scarlett Nicole Pearce."

"What?"

"My name. It's Scarlett Nicole Pearce," she looked over at me.

"Nice to meet you, Scarlett," I grinned back at her.

"Whoa," she hiccupped, staring at me with wide eyes.

"Alright, Lightweight, I think you've had enough."

"Y-you're Jensen Ackles," she continued to stare.

"Can I get a water for her as well? Thanks."

"I'm sitting next to Jensen Ackles," she continued, almost to herself. "Tom's never going to believe this..."

I bit back a laugh as she pulled out her phone to text her best friend. I knew I should probably stop her, but between her slurred words and the fact that she no longer remembered coming to the bar with me, the evening had taken an entertaining turn. To my amusement, instead of texting like I originally thought, she hit the call button when she somehow managed to find Tom's contact in her phone and put it on speaker.

"Scarlett?" Tom's voice answered.

"Tom, you'll never believe who I'm with right now," she slurred.

"Oh man, are you drunk, Scar?"

"Guess who's sitting next to me, Tom."

I was openly laughing now as I heard Tom sigh on the other end.

"Who is it, Scarlett?"

"Jensen Ross Ackles."

"Oh, really?"

"Mmhm," she nodded her head enthusiastically even though he couldn't see it.

"Okay, Scarlett, do you think you could hand him the phone?"

"Y-you mean I have to talk to him?"

"No. Just hand him your phone, Scar."

"Okie dokie."

She thrust the phone in my direction.

"'S for you," she grinned.

I took the phone from her hand, putting it off speaker and lifting it to my ear.

"Hey, Tom," I greeted him.

"Hey, man. How much did you let her drink?"

"She had two and a half Manhattans. I didn't know she was a lightweight, I swear," I laughed.

"You need to get her home. And you should probably stay with her overnight."

"Yeah, yeah I'm starting to get that. I'll take care of it."

"Awesome. Do, um, do I want to know why she was drinking in the first place?"

"I think she's just overwhelmed about stuff," I answered vaguely.

"Right," Tom sighed. "Could you let me know when you get her home safely?"

"Sure thing. Talk to you whenever I manage to get her out of here."

"Bye."

I hung up Scarlett's phone, slipping it in my pocket.

"Alright, Lightweight. Let's get you out of here," I told her.

I helped her down from the barstool and together we made our way out to my car.