Out of the Woods | ✓

03 | give me liberty or give me death

"You recited Ezekiel twenty-five, seventeen and she liked it?"

"Thanks for that vote of confidence, Libby."

Walking around Vancouver's only 24-hour grocery store at ten o'clock on a Friday night in their pajamas was Jensen and Liberty's idea of fun. (Really, they were in Burnaby.) (But because no one knew where—or what—the hell that was, Jensen was used to calling her general residency Vancouver.)

Packing plastic baskets full of non-dairy ice cream and Tim Tams and cookies to last through whatever the next week brought them was somewhat of a tradition since they'd moved in together ten years before. Ever since the grocery store announced it was extending its hours, Jensen and Liberty took it upon themselves to designate Fridays to each other. If nothing else, to fill the other one in on what life had brought the past week—sometimes Friday nights were the only time they had in a week to see each other. They were essential.

Liberty Faith and Jensen had been inseparable since the moment they'd met in second grade. They were those friends. And they loved it more than anything else. Even late night grocery store trips.

"Jens, I'm not trying to shit on it." Liberty eyed bags of potato chips to figure out which one she was going to toss in her basket, say it was for her lunches, and eat on the drive home. She picked the same chips every week. But staring at the shelves was part of the Friday tradition. "It's surprising. I mean, Pulp Fiction? Cult classic, sure. But for a romantic comedy audition? What about Andrew Lincoln in Love Actually?"

"And do what? Awkwardly smile and pretend I wasn't being a stalker?" Jensen asked. "I think she was looking for something more verbal than Andrew Lincoln."

"Being able to act with your eyes is a big seller," Liberty said. "And don't act as if you don't watch that movie every Christmas."

"I never said I didn't," Jensen said. "I almost threw up when she told me to do something other than what I'd practiced, I don't think Andrew Lincoln's silence could've saved me."

"Maybe she was trying to see how you acted under pressure." Liberty frowned—her eyebrows knit together and her lips pouted slightly. She shrugged off the look after a couple seconds. "No pun intended."

"A warning would've been nice."

"She's Academy Award nominee Keira Lim," Liberty said, dropping a bag of salt and vinegar kettle chips into the basket hanging from her arm. "She knows what she's doing."

Jensen and Liberty began walking down the aisle again now that Liberty had picked her chips. Which were the chips she picked every time they went to the grocery store together. But they humoured each other because Jensen would do the same thing while picking out ice cream to eat when they got home, so it balanced out.

"I'm know she does."

"Did she do that to everyone?"

"She didn't say," Jensen said, dropping a box of cranberry almond granola bars into her basket. "Would she really do that to only one person?"

"You were the one who met her."

"Maybe she would?" Jensen said. She stared blankly at a shelf of protein bars. "She was on, like, six Red Bulls at the time. Who knows what she was capable of?"

"Academy Award nominee Keira Lim on Red Bull..." Liberty mused, smiling. "That sounds like a cult classic."

"I hope that it was enough," Jensen said.