The Universe's Mixer

In retrospect, the time that Sam had spent in the City seemed to have flown by in the space of a blink. He'd gotten used to hunting on his own, and the best part was, no Lucifer haunting his dreams. It was probably the best thing that could have happened to him after he and Dean had split.

On the other hand, he knew that Dean had lived roughly two years in what was now for Sam an alternate reality. One in which he--Sam--had probably lived as well, and he--Sam--wasn't sure he wanted to know what his other self might have done, left to his own devices.

But he knew he'd rather have all the cards on the table than allow the rift between himself and his brother to remain, yawning, between them.

Zoe was considering. She was considering a great many things, and only one of which was the Batmule - it needed a better name. Alfred had even said as much. "Mule" was much too close to home, but until it got a new one, that's what she would call it. Another was the possibility of seeing Wash again; only, she knew it wouldn't be Wash, but some dream Wash, which while close to the real thing, when she woke up...he'd be gone. This line of thought brought her to something she wasn't sure she really should be considering, something or more someone: Jesse Custer.

He knew the truth, and he'd helped when she needed it. Yet, he was dangerous. Zoe knew his sort, and she really wasn't one to truck in it outside friendliness and that was it. She also had needs that no amount of batteries and dreaming could satisfy, no matter how good those dreams might be, and she'd had some doozies lately. The Amazon was in a bit of a fix.

Zoe had been avoiding Jesse for some time, or so it seemed. She didn't want him to feel as if anything had happened, and she didn't want to give in to that feeling she got when he held her as she slept. He saw a side of her she didn't let many see; at the moment she really hadn't had that much of a choice in the matter. But, not being one to shirk away from danger unless she knew it would really kill or hurt her which was becoming more a possibility with her latest choice in careers, she decided to face this danger head on. Nip whatever it was in the bud, if there was a bud to be nipped.

Jesse didn't answer the phone. Zoe didn't try to think of reasons why not. She just left a message.

"Jesse, it's Zoe. Wondered if you'd like a drink. There's a place on Fifth called 'Paradiso' - it's not bad. I'll be there around 7 pm. If you show, shiny. If not, works." It was noncommittal, and she didn't sound expectant or hopeful. She sounded like a Zoe leaving an invitation for getting a drink.

At 7 pm, she'd be found at the bar, a drink in front of her. She was in her more business like attire; it fitted her nicely and was professional all without taking away from her femininity.