Let's take a blast to the moon baby, how I'm craving you
WHO: Sam Winchester and Elisabeth Braddock. WHAT: Liz makes him buy her drinks. And do karaoke. WHEN: After Sam made her worry over his death wish. Fast-forwarding the thread a bit. WHERE: Ground Control. RATING: PG-13 (alcohol consumption, drunkenness, language, flirtation). STATUS: COMPLETE (for the most part).
It was nearing the point where, had no one been clearing off their table, bottles and glasses would have made a lovely soundtrack of clinks and nearly empty sloshes. It was nearing the point where even the most stubbornness of people could let their guard down and throw up their arms in defeat and just sing. Have fun.
Though Sam's cryptic faux message had made her upset and then irate and then strangely admirable, she was no longer feeling any of that now. Now was about enjoying the atmosphere and company. With her chocolate martini dancing in front of her, Elisabeth nodded at the karaoke bar, more or less demanding, "You will sing at least one song with me love. Or dance! I do love to dance! Partly why I have the job that I do...oy, that makes me sound like a dirty stripper. No, no, I work at the Goa Bar." She nodded for confirmation, her silver star earrings catching the light.