The Universe's Mixer

Everything was going to hell. Fred was miserable and Dinah wasn't too happy with Jensen herself. Unfortunately, she was unhappy with him on a personal level which meant she still needed to be professional. She wasn't aware of his questions about her leadership abilities or else she would have wanted to talk about that.

No, instead she was out searching for the team's resident doctor/scientist. Hank hadn't been in his lab and he hadn't answered his comm or his phone. She'd tried dropping by his apartment and knocking on the door, but there was no answer there either.

She was doing her best not to panic and not to think the worst, but it was hard to think anything else when she knew that he had caught Eric's interest.

She had left messages everywhere, and she could only hope that he would respond to one soon. She'd even braved a computer to send an email, which was a huge step because she still loathed computesr. It hadn't been that long since she'd seen him, so she was trying very hard not to panic.

Trying, and all but failing.

In an attempt to keep her mind off her missing doctor, her heartbroken friend, and her own heartbreak, Dinah stopped by Fieri Brothers for some pasta. It was... very odd that the restaurant was here and even that the food tasted exactly the same as back home. But the staff was completely different. There was no Mr. Fieri here, no waitresses and cooks that were all related and part of one of those big Italian families. No friendly faces that knew her go-to order.

It was sort of like a jarring note in an otherwise familiar song. The City seemed to have nothing but those for her, and she was honestly not in the mood to be all too charitable.

All the same, the comfort food was better than no comfort at all so she was seated by herself at a table in the corner, trying to ignore the happy couples that suddenly seemed to be everywhere. Holding hands, stealing kisses over pasta and wine. It was something she maybe hadn't noticed during the brief time when things were going well with Harry, but now that that was all over she couldn't help but notice that nearly everyone in the City was paired off and apparently over the moon about it.

Jensen was feeling pretty thrashed emotionally after Fred left. It didn't help that she pretty much told him how much of an ass he was. He didn't need her to tell him that. He knew that already, but damn it he was allowed to be pissed off! And hurt. But you don't tell people you're hurt when you're a guy. No. What you do is you text message another guy that you were in a vulnerable place right now and wanted to do something stupid like go out and get drunk off of whiskey and hurricane shots in an effort to numb the ouchy parts, possibly get in a pointless and needless fight and he should come be supportive. That translates to:

Dude. Girls suck. Beers? Sent to Logan's phone. Logan, who responded in kind to something that translated into: I totally understand and sympathize, man. Why yes I would be happy to meet you for imbibing alcohol and support you in your hour of need for indulgance and school yard behaviour. Still won't bail you out of jail, though.

Logan had the night off and suggested another bar to go to, some place called The Roadhouse. Jensen had texted back saying if Patrick Swayze was going to be there to not be nice when it was time it was a no go. He was assured there would be no Swayze ass kicking so to the Roadhouse it was. He showed up with the mostly dead flowers and tossed them on the bar in front of Logan before sliding onto a barstool. "Here. Don't say I never gave you anything."