"Thanks. For letting me come by, I mean," Sam said softly. What he wasn't saying was that, other than work, he'd essentially become a hermit. So this was appreciated far more than she'd probably ever know.
He smiled when he saw her, but it sort of faded a little bit when he realized that she looked scared. Different worlds, Sam, he reminded himself, giving her what he hoped to be a comforting smile and pulling the bottle of wine from under his arm, offering it out to her. "I know this wasn't part of the deal," he said softly, "but after the whole zombie thing, I earned a little extra on my paycheck, so I figured I'd treat us a little bit," he said with a smirk. He was a beer guy himself, but you didn't show up at a pretty, nice, French girl's place with beer. Generally didn't go over well.
Boy was Sam right about that first thought, too. The little pixelated pictures didn't do Emmanuelle justice, Sam decided. Her face was far more expressive than the images allowed, and Sam was pretty glad for the time spent with her outside of the workplace. When they worked together, they didn't see each other a lot. Both had different tasks to pull off, and that was okay, but this was a bold move. Dean always told him that he was the biggest idiot when it came to women, even ones that he was just friends, or acquaintances in this case, with. Sam didn't want to be stupid this time.
"I like the way you decorated your place," he said with a warm smile. Maybe an awkward thing to say, but his own cabin was pretty simplistic. Drab, empty walls and basic everything. More or less a guy's style - but it made him appreciate her own decor even more.