Mask- a Supernatural fanfiction

Chapter 41: Rum And Coke

DEAN POV

I knew damn well that Catherine was only trying to make me feel better. I really just wanted to walk back into that prudish restaurant and tell that hostess bitch to just let us have one of those prissy little tables, or I'll- I'll- I have no fucking idea what I'd do. But whatever the fuck it was, it would get us the damn table. Sam was probably too nice to the girl and that's why she didn't offer us one. I made a damn reservation... Wait did I? Fuck, I didn't.

"Dean, are you sure you don't want a drink or something?" her calming voice nearly begged me. We had arrived at the run-down bar a half hour ago and were sitting at small table.

"No, no. There has to be at least one designated driver," I reasoned with her as I reached over and stole one of her fries from her little basket. Giggles erupted from her as she slapped my shoulder and scolded me.

"Hey! I was gonna eat that!"

I lightly chuckled as I ate the fry, trying hard to not think about how vulnerable she would be if we all got shit-faced drunk. Someone needed to be her designated protector (and driver of course, but that shit doesn't fucking matter). My eyes scanned the bar and memorized each face in here, in case they were demons or maybe The Twilight bastard Edward. I needed to be on high alert, even if we haven't heard from the fucker in about a month. I knew he was planning something; it's only a matter of time before he takes action.

My eyes landed on a couple fondling over each other, and I knew Catherine would love to see that cutesy shit. I nudged her and gestured to their direction.

"Hey, get a load of that Disney couple over there."

She turned towards them at the best time. The two were snuggling like a gross couple and were giving each other butterfly kisses.

Catherine did what I expected and groaned, "Oh Jesus Christ. Are you kidding me? That's so gross." She turned back to the table, and took a sip of her rum and coke, and then turned back to look at them. We positioned ourselves so we could comfortably watch the encounter and comment on it as we did to others.

I leaned over to her as I watched the two talk to each other. I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I could practically know what they were thinking.

I mocked what I thought would be his voice, "Oh, Rebecca. I couldn't live without you."

Catherine caught right on, and imitated what she thought the girl's voice would be, "Oh, Taylor, neither could I."

"Rebecca, I think about you all the time."

"You're telling me this why, Taylor?"

"Marry me, Rebecca?"

"Oh, Taylor, uhm, I don't know what to say."

"Say that you'll marry me, Rebecca."

"Of course I'll marry you! I'm pregnant, Taylor."

"Oh, Rebecca!"

Catherine broke out of her act with her laughter. I couldn't help but laugh along. The fact that the relationship was so fucking corny was absolutely hilarious. I knew Catherine thought it was disgusting and I fucking loved that.

"I bet you a million bucks they won't last more than two months," she stated as she took a bigger sip of her drink. Wait what the fuck? How long as it been since she got drunk? All she fucking drinks is water all the damn time. But fucking hell. The way she licked her lips after, was fucking mesmerizing. Don't even fucking get me started on that fucking dress. Holy fucking fuck. The black fabric clung to her curves like someone just decided to fucking paint black on her.