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[ It's to his credit that he actually admitted it, because that smirk just about told her everything she needed to know. She does chuckle though, toying her glass in a circle with her fingertips as she contemplates him a moment. ]

Sure he did. [ Does she believe him? Unclear. But it doesn't really matter unless he's planning on starting another one tonight, does it?

At his question, she shrugs a shoulder. ] May have been in a few. But there's not much skill in putting down drunk who creeps who can't take no for an answer. [ She glances him over again. ] You look like you can hold your own in a real fight, though.

I can.

[Course he can, look at him. And.. why not share a little. What could it hurt.]

Been doing it my whole life.

[ Oh, she’s looking. Can’t help but, really. He’s a hell of a lot taller than she is - towering over a foot over her, at the least - and she can tell by the way he moves, the way he’s built, that those muscles aren’t just for show.

She meets his gaze again, curious as she sips on her drink. ]

Oh, yeah? [ She glances him over once more, assessing him a moment. ] Let’s see. Not a boxer. Not law enforcement. You’re a Wesson fan though, from your username, so I’d say… life of crime. [ She smirks, only partially kidding, though maybe she’s just projecting now. ] Underground fight club? Vigilante, maybe.

Monster Hunter, [he supplies with a little bit of amusement. She's got some sharp senses and he likes that.]

So a little bit from all of the above.

[If only it paid as well back home as it does here.

A beat. He sips his beer.]

It's a joke. The username. My last name is Winchester and I've used Wesson as an alias in the past. I knew my people would recognise it if we got separated.

[Following protocol and all.]

[ Alright, Monster Hunter's definitely not the answer she's expecting, but it's intriguing to say the least. She sips at her drink again, arching a brow and considering him again. ]

That must've been a valuable skill, back in Deerington. [ God knows she'd picked up some experience in that department, anyway. She smirks a bit at his explanation, leaning her arm against hte bar. ]

You've got people here? Anybody I might know?

[Sam nods in answer to both her questions. Truth be told Trench is a pretty perfect city for someone like him. Crazy is his normal and he already has all the skills you need to thrive in a place like this. In fact he's been a much better hunter since they made landfall. Better than ever. Dean says it's because something is wrong with him. Sam begs to differ but doesn't particularly care to find a reason. Evolution maybe.]

Three or four others.

[He isn't sure if that Novak girl is still around. He's never actually bothered to try to find her.]

My brother Dean. Our.. friend I guess, Castiel. And.. pf [a small scoff. This always sounds so stupid.] and another me from an alternate timeline. He caused some trouble a while back in Deerington. We've been keeping a low profile since then.

[Anyway, moving swiftly on.]

What about you? Anyone here you know from home?

[ Crazy was pretty much a staple of Sara's life before Deerington, too. Now that she's been through that shit show, Trench seems just about par for the course nowadays. Still, it's not like anyone can really get used to a place like this, but it certainly isn't boring. ]

Dean... Yeah, I think I met him. Back in the old place. [ She cocks a brow at the mention of an alternate timeline, though. ] So you're a troublemaker no matter what universe you're from, huh?

[ She smirks a little, toying with her glass again. ] My sister, actually. And another friend, John. Plus a handful of friends I made back in Deerington made their way here, too. [ She takes another long sip from her drink, enjoying the way it warms at the pit of her stomach. ]

Must be weird. Having another version of yourself walking around.

Weird is one way to put it.

[He'd say more like fucking insane, stressful, and deeply embarrassing.]

Doesn't help he's the ripe old age of fourteen and the living, gawky embodiment of everything awful I'd rather not remember.

[ Both her brows cock upwards and she shoots him a look to make sure he's not joking. ]

Fourteen? In this place? Jesus. [ She frowns, knocking back another sip of her drink. ] Guess weird doesn't even begin to cover it.

[ She chews on her lip, glancing him over again. ]

So what kind of monsters do you hunt?

[He is serious. It's embarrassing. Sammy is embarrassing. Poor kid. It's not his fault.

Sam snorts softly. What kind of question is that.]

The people killing kind. Spirits.. beasts.. demons.

[ She's pretty sure everyone is embarrassing when they're 14.

She smirks a little, cocking a brow. ]

Demons? You do know how to have fun. [ She leans against the bar top, scanning the room curiously as she sips her drink. ]

Something like that.

[Demons are a particular point of friction for Sam but he doesn't care at the moment. He's more focused on Sara and what the night might hold.

The ambiance is nice in Earworm but the later it gets the more wild it will become. They're just on the cusp of the real fun starting.]

I take it that's not really your wheelhouse?

[ The intensity of his gaze doesn't leave much to the imagination, but Sara's not at all unnerved. She just smiles right back at him, holding his gaze as she tips back the rest of her drink. ]

Not so much, no. Criminals, assassins, spies, sure. A metahuman every now and then. This place has given me some practice on monster hunting, though. [ She scans the room again, stripping her jacket and slinging it over the bar. The place is humid as all hell, but her attention's more caught up in the back rooms that seem to attract a somewhat more... elicit clientele. ]

What's back there?

Something a lot more fun.. and private. Let me show you.

[He doesn't wait, and pulls himself up before offering a hand.]

I feel like you could appreciate a little pole work. fighting assassins sounds pretty acrobatic.

[ She cocks a brow, watching him carefully before slipping off her stool and taking his hand. ]

You're gonna have to ply me with a hell of a lot more alcohol if you wanna get me on a stage. [ She smirks, following his lead through the crowd. ]

[Sam's brows pin high on his forehead. He did not consider that to be an option. Sam is man. Man brain go brrrzt. He's suddenly a whole hell of a lot more invested in this transaction. He stops and turns back to the bar, catching the server's eye as he dips in his pocket and puts down a large, opal stone on the counter before leeeeaning over and grabbing the bottle of whiskey. We good? The worm agrees they are, in fact, very good.

Sam nods, all the blood in his body having since left his brain as it refocuses into his below the belt brain, and he presses the bottle into Sara's hands before looping his arms around her shoulders and guiding her towards the back.]

You've said it, now you have to show me.

[He feels like their small talk quota has been filled, now it's time to get wasted and party.]

[ Well, if that shell-shocked, suddenly-horny look on his face doesn't earn him a laugh, the scramble to get a full bottle into her hands certainly does. It bubbles out of her, a grin spreading on her lips as she glances over the newly claimed whiskey curiously. Not bad. ]

I don't have to show you anything. But you might be on your way to earning it.

[ She smirks up at him, elbowing him playfully in the side as they make their way towards the back. That she does nothing to remove his arm slung around his shoulders is a good enough sign that he's on the right track, and she uncaps the bottle and takes a long swig before handing it over to him. ]

You gonna dance with me first?

Well, I'll give it my best shot.

[Prim and proper Sam. Closed and stiff. Always so serious.

It's so boring.

Good thing that guy is dead.

He grins and pulls her closer, leaning down to press his lips to her ear and gently bite before he speaks.]

Public dancing or private room dancing?

[ Well, he doesn't hold back, does he? She can't help but grin when he pulls her in tight, towering a good foot over her even in her heeled boots.

A shiver runs down her spine at the graze of teeth over her earlobe, and she starts to back them away from the crowd and towards the back wall. ]

Dealer's choice. But I've got a feeling I know the answer.

I think you do, too.

[Private room it is. Protected by a shimmering silver curtain mostly drawn closed where they can sit and trade the bottle. Sara first, then Sam, who swallows and busies himself with a hand at her hip across her lap and his nose in her neck. Then break back and move in for a hungry, deep kiss full of promise and intention.

He wants her. Terribly. But the lead up can be just as fun and he intends to get every little moment of pleasure he can.]

[ Well, they're both about as subtle as a gun. She's enjoying it, though. The ease of it, the thrill. Nothing but a bit of fabric separating them from the rest of the club.

She's had enough whiskey for a good buzz, tingling at her fingertips, warm in the pit of her stomach as she leans easily into Sam's arms. Tiptoeing up to meet his kiss, she drags her tongue against his, reaching out to start unbuttoning his shirt.

Why waste time, right? ]

[Not when time is so fleeting. In a week or two Sam will be free of this human form and chained down to the floor of a basement panic room. Better make the most of this, right?

Sam helps by shedding his jacket to the floor before moving to do the same for Sara. Shirt too if she'll let him. He likes that she knows what he's after and is just as game for it. Straight to the point like an arrow. He respects that.

And he doesn't respect many.

Sara's lips are silken against his own and he can feel the soft tickle of her breath beneath his nose, fingers carding through her hair as they breathe each other in between breaks. Sam wonders, as his teeth graze with claim across her bottom lip, if Sara kisses how she fights, direct but elegant. He wonders, with his hand to her breast, aching to rip her bra in shreds off her body, if she fucks that way, too.]

[ Well. She doesn't know time is quite that fleeting, but in a place like this, you never really know what's in store for the future.

Both their jackets hit the floor with a heavy clunk - proof of various weapons stashed inside them, surely - before the shirts follow. The small talk had been sufficient enough, she thinks. Hell, she's never been the patient type anyway, and she'd known at first glance that he wasn't, either. Not when he'd spent the bulk of the night undressing her with his eyes.

His kiss is dizzying. Overwhelming. He doesn't hold back for a moment and it leaves her breathless, flushed and so damn eager for more. He tastes of whiskey and smells like gunpowder, and it's not long before her hands wander down to start unbuckling his belt. ]

Y'dance good.

[Sam smiles against her lips, purring an affirmative in response and tilting his hips forward in invitation. Jeans already far too tight.]

So do you.

[This sort of dance is far preferred to a room of writhing bodies crushing in all around him. It's too claustrophobic, and while he doesn't feel fear it would leave him open to ambush. Just the way it goes.

This is better. This, as he tugs her bra out of the way and kisses his way down her throat and chest with a low, feral growl. He wants that breast in his mouth, his tongue against her nipple, the taste of her skin in his mouth.]

[ Just that little tilt of his hips and her hand slips down to grip him through his jeans, an impish grin on her lips before she cranes her neck up to nip at his lower lip.

Oh, shit. She cocks a brow at the weight of him, the way he strains against her hand.

Yup. This is much, much better than anything they could be doing out there. She arches her back into the scrape of his mouth, the stubble on his jaw along with that growl sending shivers down her spine. The slick of his tongue against her breast has her nipples hard in an instant, her hands fumbling to tug his belt loose and unbutton his fly. ]

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