Entry tags:

!complete, claire redfield, dean winchester

Who: Dean Winchester dean & Claire Redfield claireredfield
What: Drinks
When: Backdated, Saturday, June 13, 10 PM
Where: Costa Mesa, Seventh Heaven bar
Rating: Audience Discretion is Advised
Warnings: They're both roughnecks who don't censor their language. Dean also makes no secret of the fact he's a sure thing.
Status: Closed/Completed GDoc

~*~

'See you there' could mean a lot of things for a guy depending on what kind of woman was saying it to him.

Dean had gotten with them all before from the Prom Queens who showed up three hours late to the timid church girls who never showed up for the first date because they were afraid he'd want more than company. It was true he was interested if he asked a woman out for drinks. It was also true he didn't decide what he was expecting from a woman until he'd met her in person.

People were always different on the internet, on the phone, or behind a magic curtain than they were in person.

He knew more about how to read people than he should have ever learned. Grifting had its benefits, but also its curses. Dean could sum up how much a woman was worth with two full once overs. He was rarely wrong. There was something about the way a person carried themselves which also took a lot of the guesswork out of the equation for how they felt about themselves or others. The mystery died too fast for him with most women. Dean didn't like that worth a good damn. It was a lot more fun to have to work on learning someone than to look at them and know.

Claire was easy to spot coming into the bar.

Throwing a hand up, Dean stood to offer her a seat at the two person table he'd collapsed into without a by-your-leave, "Figured we weren't going to be those people who were social enough to sit at the bar. Not as if I have anything against it. Big fan of stools. I just like a chance to talk to someone on my own the first time if I can get it. After all, beer pong stops being fun when it's legal for you to drink. This okay with you?"

~*~

Meeting new people was sort've a big deal to Claire. It was still hard for her to remember people's names, faces were another deal but names? Those were hard. She'd written down Dean's name in her notebook that she kept in her back pocket, along with the place and time they were going to meet up. It would be fine, she would be fine and she'd get through this.

It was important for her to keep her mental muscles flexed, to learn something new each day and meet up with people as she could. At least, that was what the doctors had kept telling her, and she was trying. It was just hard some days to remember that, and add in work and everything else? Claire was just trying to make it through without any setbacks.

She dressed comfortably for the evening, a pair of jeans and a tank top with a ¾ sleeve button up over it and her favorite boots. Her hair was down, straight, and she wore very little makeup as she hated the way it felt against her skin. Walking into the bar, she glanced around, noticing the wave from a man that she assumed was Dean.

Claire gave him a nod and headed over. "Thanks," she pulled her chair out and took a seat, shaking her head and waving a dismissive hand. "Oh this is fine," she gave him a smile, "and I was the queen of beer pong back in the day." Her college memories had been the first to return, well after she'd remembered Chris.

As the waitress walked up, Claire glanced over at her. "Shot of Jim and a Budweiser." It'd been a long time since Claire had gone out drinking, but she thought she deserved a little bit of a treat tonight.

"So, drum up a lot of business with your post?" She asked once the waitress left, curiously glancing over at him.

~*~

Chuckling, Dean shook his head, "Not really. I got a long way to go before business is booming for me. There were a few inquiries. I can get an estimate out to at least two locations which is good. More than I was expecting honestly. I half thought the place was for hook-ups."

He wasn't joking about that either.

Dean wasn't the most internet-savvy guy on the planet which was why he'd gotten himself a business partner. That guy was the one who made their website, responded to questions, dealt with assholes trolling. It wouldn't have been wise to leave it to Dean to do given his penchant to punch first, ask questions later. People who needed a rap sheet which included battery for being an internet douche: not Dean Winchester.

There was something very easygoing about the look of Claire. He nodded to the waitress as she was leaving. That was enough to get him a drink refill. They were friendly with him. Dean wasn't a regular, but he was memorable. It was one of the few things about himself he had to count on. Charm, confidence, charisma, those worked to keep him flush in the pocket when he had to be worried over paying the bills. Sometimes he thought about giving up on running his own business and just going into the business.

Prostitution wasn't a solely female realm.

Guys could do it.

Gigolos were a thing.

Downing his shot, Dean asked Claire, "How's your night going? Better than considering a life of prostitution like me, I hope?"

~*~

A brow rose, and she smiled as she leaned back against the back of her chair and folded her arms over her chest. "I can't say that I've ever actually considered becoming a prostitute, though I might've done undercover work as one in the past." She honestly couldn't remember if she had or not, there were some things that she still didn't remember about her life and a lot of that had to do with her work.

She waved a hand, "Not that I'm a cop anymore. That's in a life that I don't even really remember." Clearing her throat, Claire looked down at the table. "My night, however, has been going well. I worked earlier today, did a few errands and then met up with you here. So, I don't think it's too bad of a night considering." Finally Claire glanced back up at him, and shrugged.

"As for the hook-ups, I'm sure some people use it for that." Claire had joined upon the insistence of her brother who thought it would be a good way for her to meet new people, and somehow help her memory. Her doctors had also thought it was a good idea, though Claire honestly hadn't been that sold on it herself either. It had, at the very least, helped her get out more now.

"Also, don't let my past occupation stop you from doing whatever you want to do. Just let me know if you ever need to charge for your time, since my paycheck isn't that awesome any longer." She teased with a grin and a wink, thanking the waitress as she brought her drinks. Tossing back her shot, Claire hissed at the burn of the alcohol down the back of her throat, but she quickly chased it with a swig of her beer.

Putting the bottle down on the table, she looked at Dean. "I'm sure you'll do alright though. With your landscaping business that is, probably won't be no time at all and you'll be so busy you won't know what to do."

~*~

Cops were not the best of friends with Dean Winchester. He'd never had one of those pleasant interactions where they saved a kitten from a tree or pulled a baby from a burning building. Largely, Dean's experiences with cops had been them busting his father for drunk and disorderly in public while he faked being of legal age to avoid winding up in foster care with Sammy. He had more than one memory of them busting him for hustling pool, too. Turned out that wasn't quite legal in most places.

Claire didn't seem too bad though.

There was something worn about her Dean could relate to---she seemed as if she'd seen too much.

Smiling, he shook his head, "Nah. I am pretty sure if anyone is going to have to start paying? It's me. You're definitely not the kind of woman who should ever have to pay. Even if you were a cop. My experiences with cops? Not so great. You? Pretty great. Who knows? You might change my mind on the law and order system entirely. Stranger things have happened."

Dean had managed to get a high school equivalency against all the naysayers. No one had ever believed he could pass the GED, but he'd done it. It wasn't as hard as they'd let on. Sammy was the smartest of the pair of them. School had been Sammy's thing from early on. Dean wasn't stupid though which was something a lot of people didn't understand. He could handle complex problems. It wasn't as if he needed to read a book which doubled as a doorstop to be able to do math.

"I'm a high school graduate after all. Well. I got a GED. Close enough. No one thought I could manage that and I did. You impressed yet or you want me to drop something so you can get a look at my better side?"

~*~

Claire didn't know about pretty great. At one point and time it was possible that she was, but now? Now she felt like a shell of her former self, or at least, what her former self had been like. Life had a funny way of turning upside down, but it also had a great way of working out for the best in the end.

There were times Claire wished she could remember some of her past, enough to where she could be back on the force again, but wishing did nothing but make a person long for things that couldn't be. Claire had to live in reality, she had to work through things, and deal with life the best way she knew how.

She just had to keep moving forward, and working towards her goals.

Laughing, Claire lifted up her drink in a salute to Dean. "Good for you, and maybe later I'll check out your assets." She smirked, and finally took another pull from her beer. It was nice to relax, to not have to worry or think too much. Claire was so tired of worrying constantly about her life, about what she could possibly be forgetting, although a moment of panic hit her as she struggled to remember if she'd locked the door to her apartment.

She let out a long breath through her nose, counted to five, and reminded herself that even if she hadn't? She didn't have anything in there that couldn't be replaced and the things that couldn't be replaced? She doubted anyone would want.

Clearing her throat, Claire settled back in her seat again. "I'm impressed already though, so you don't have to worry about any of that. And who knows, maybe I will change your mind about the cops. I still have friends at the station, so if you ever need any help? You let me know, cause they're good people." Claire would do what she could to help out a friend, unless they'd done something truly horrific. "So besides landscaping, what else do you do, Dean?"

~*~

"Fix cars."

Dean finished his beer and signalled a passing waitress by raising his bottle to indicate he needed another. She winked at him before bustling behind the counter to get one for him. Service with a smile was almost guaranteed in California. Everyone wasn't exactly happy in the OC. They simply had a lot to be thankful for seeing as their climate was typically fantastic, poverty levels were low, and people were understanding of---differences in a way other parts of the world couldn't be due to lack of experience.

Talking about his father's garage tended to make him morose, but Dean liked Claire. He was willing to share with her a little without getting too in-depth on it. There was no reason to bring down their night when they were starting to have a good time. Dean was good at spinning a story to make it a little less horrible than the reality happened to be. Some people thought it was exciting to imagine him growing up in no-tell motels with his kid brother alone while his father was off for weeks searching for answers to why he'd been turned into a widower young.

No one wanted to think about how Dean had gotten money together to buy their lunches at school or make certain Sammy had clean clothes.

Those were the unfun parts of his history which he felt it was okay to leave out.

"My old man ran an auto-body shop here for a few years. Had a bit of a drinking problem which went hand-in-hand with a bit of a gambling problem which led to him losing his shop to a great guy who kept me on working when he won the place in a round of Texas Hold'Em. Me? I can't complain about it. I get to work on cars most people will never see outside of the movies. I like it. For the most part. The landscaping thing? That's all mine though. I like that better because it's like this look at how the other half lives, y'know? The ones with the picket fences and 2-point-5 kids. Makes me feel almost normal. What are you up to now you're not a cop?"

~*~

While Claire listened to Dean talk about his life, she sipped idly on her beer, thankful that the waitress was mindful enough to bring another one for her when she brought Dean's by. "I can understand that, and I think it's a great thing to be proud of." She resisted the temptation to reach down into the pocket of her jeans and pull out her notebook to jot down details so she wouldn't forget them.

This, however, was not the time or place to do that especially considering that she hadn't told him much to anything about her past.

Claire knew that if she and Dean were going to be friends, or hang out again that it would be something that she should bring up. Swallowing hard, Claire smiled softly. "I work as a cashier at a grocery store." She rolled her eyes. God that sounded so lame. "I was part of the Orange County SWAT team, we were doing a raid on a warehouse where a drug dealer was holed up with his latest shipment. We had a mole in the department, and they'd tipped him off. Myself and one of the rookies were heading around a corner. They were taking point, and I was following behind, they set off a tripwire activated explosive device. I'm lucky I didn't die, but the strap on my helmet broke from the blast and I was knocked back against a concrete wall."

Claire didn't remember the story herself, she'd been told it so many times that it had just stuck with her. "I was in the hospital for awhile in a coma, when I woke up I didn't remember anything. Retrograde amnesia is what they called it." She lifted a shoulder, "So basically I lost my past, for a little while, at least. There are still parts that I don't remember, I have issues with short term memory so if you ever see me jotting things down? That's why. I'm not trying to be rude, or take notes to get you busted later, it's just helpful for me."

Taking another pull from her beer, Claire swallowed the amber liquid hard, and once again cleared her throat. "That's my story. I'm coping, and doing well according to my doctors, just so you know."

~*~

People could be sensitive about disabilities. No one wanted to feel helpless. No one wanted to be less than whole. It wasn't as if there was a line stretched out somewhere for miles where people were waiting to sign up to be crippled or maimed or permanently injured. Dean had his fair share of scars. He was lucky most of his were internal or the kind which weren't visible until he had his clothes off after which point usually? No one was interested in what kind of marks were on his body.

He didn't alter his expression while she told him about her situation. Dean laughed with her a little when she mentioned working at a grocery store. Sammy had done that once or twice growing up. A person got desperate enough, they were willing to do any kind of work to put food on the table. He wasn't too good to bag groceries or sweep floors. It was simply a lot more lucrative to hustle pool or play the field for a woman with too much money and too much time on her hands when things got hard for him.

Tough.

Hard wasn't something Dean had a tough time getting.

"Coping's good. 'Bout the best any of us can ask for here, y'know? Everything's crazy in the OC. I'm not worried about the memory thing. Personally, I'm considering it to be a great opportunity to wind up being the best first-time you've ever had. I mean, if I get lucky with you and you forget it? I know a little more about what you like so the next time? I can do a little better and if you forget again---well, I saw 50 First Dates. It was a great movie except for the part where she killed the penguin."

He shrugged as he took a draw on his beer. It was fine with him if she forgot things. He wasn't perfect himself.

~*~

That was all anyone could ask for in the end. Claire was just dealing with life as it came to her, as the memories she had returned and trying her best to keep up with the new ones that she made, but some days it was easier than others.

Laughing, Claire brought her bottle back up to her lips to take another swig. Licking her lips, she gave a small sideways tip of her head. "That is assuming you get lucky, cowboy. Would it make it better if I faked forgetting?" She asked, raising a brow over at him, a teasing smile dancing on the corners of her mouth. "You know, in the event that you eventually get lucky that is."

Honestly Claire couldn't remember the last time she'd been out on an actual date, or anything of that sort. It'd been before the accident, she was sure, but she couldn't remember any details to it. So it might be like she was having a first time all over again. That was a strange idea in and of itself. She knew she wasn't a virgin, but she couldn't remember the last time she had sex.

Had it been good, bad, mediocre? Had she been dating the guy, or had it been a one off?

Her thoughts, however, were getting ahead of her. She didn't think a one night stand would solve any of her problems, though it was terribly tempting.

"You really didn't strike me as the rom com type, but of course, I've been wrong about people before. I can't remember if I've seen that movie or not, so I'll have to give it a watch." Maybe, if she personally didn't forget to look it up by the time she got home. It was unlikely that she would remember, but she could try.

"So here's to forgetfulness, multiple first times if one is lucky enough, but most importantly good drinks and great company." She lifted her bottle, tipping it towards Dean with a smile, thoroughly enjoying their evening so far. Whether or not anything more came of it, she was just thankful for an ear to listen to her, and to spend time with someone as easygoing and likable as Dean.