We scrape by. [That's okay, Anita, Stiles will join you with that MO. His grin is wide and toothy, even as he shoots Derek a look, ready to launch into a story as to why in fact their life is like a Desperate Housewives rerun--however, he's distracted by the moose person who comes up next.
A quick glance down to his hand revealed that no, not the husband. Must be the brother in law. Offering a quick wave, he jams his hands back in his pockets, quietly sizing them up. This dude's huge (but not in a Derek way), and it's funny to see how he comes up behind Anita, as protective as anything. There was definitely something amiss here, or Stiles' first name wasn't...well it was none of your business what it was. He returns the handshake quickly, though.]
Aw, come on, we're not gonna bite. Stiles, we live in the house right there--and our cat decided to come and claim your house before you guys even showed up. You must be the brother in law?
Construction pays better. [ Derek cocks an eyebrow at Stiles in response to the look, but doesn't tell him to stay quiet-- the moose other man that comes up makes quick work of keeping him from going on a tirade. His scent's more along the lines of spring, in both a general sense and the fact there's something floral-- shampoo, probably, judging by his hair-- but there's something off about him, too. Something along the lines of a library or a study is there, with the gunpowder and salt, but also...
Sulfur? Very faintly, like his clothes hung up in a closet with a hunk of it and the traces are just barely hanging on a week or two later. The subvocal rumble returns, against Stiles' back, but leaves before he speaks again. He may be unaware of Anita's assessment and own confusion, but he's not going to basically growl at the new neighbors. ]
Derek. Nice meeting you. [ He chuffs at Stiles' comment, offering Sam his hand after he and Stiles have exchanged their greetings. ] Both of you.
[Sam shakes Derek's hand briefly. He's sure to smile, sure to look as normal as any other person. It's second nature, considering how much effort it puts into normalcy on a daily basis. These people seem like they're nice enough, he guesses. Sam really doesn't have a lot of experience in anything legitimately domestic. Of course, this really isn't legit, is it? It's a case, first and foremost, but beyond that, Sam thinks this'll be good for both Dean and Anita.
It's no secret to him that Dean wants to settle down, so this might be the push that he needs to actually get him to do it. Just giving him a little taste of that fabled apple pie life. Everyone knows hunters who stay in the game for too long end up one of two ways: dead or bitter old alcoholics. He doesn't want that for either of them.]
I guess that's stereotypical for a cat. Don't let Dean know, though. He's allergic.
[Oh God. Anita was firmly of the opinion that Dean was way over-dramatic concerning that particular allergy, though perhaps her stubbornness stemmed from the fact that should they ever decide to stay in one place long enough for it to matter, she wanted a cat. She would fight him on that. Not that it mattered much -- that wasn't in the cards. However long it took for them to finish this job, she was sure they'd be back on the road again shortly afterwards.]
We just won't tell him. I'm pretty sure he'll live. Oh, sure, it might be touch and go for a few minutes, but he'll pull through.
[Their precious mattress was safe, at least -- she hoped. Even if the cat had shed on it a little, what Dean didn't know wouldn't hurt him, in this case. Maybe a sneeze or two, but it was on him if he chose to be a big baby about it.]
Have you two lived here long?
[It was a benign enough question, right? She was curious. They were a young couple -- maybe around the same age as she and Sam were. It was hard to tell. Derek might have been a touch older? Not that it made a difference, but profiling people was something that came naturally in their line of work.]
Yeah, man, I can totally understand. I've got a totally paralyzing fear of squirrels. [ The deadpan look on his face belays exactly what he thinks of that, but he rolls his eyes good naturedly, reaching over to scratch Ru behind the ear.
Glancing back at Derek for a minute, he looks up, considering-- and then turns his attention back to Anita. If she's profiling, he's doing it too, a habit that became increasingly useful in his life. They seem normal enough, probably about the same age, although he has yet to meet this mysterious Dean character--Stiles is starting to imagine someone like from the Godfather, sitting in the darkness with his hands folded over the table. Weird.]
In this house? Nah, like--what, almost a year? This is a pretty new thing. It's a nice neighborhood and town's awesome, even if it's sleepy. [ For the non-supernaturally inclined. ]
He does, it's awful. You've got my condolences over the cat problem. [ As Ru chirps at Stiles, Derek cocks a bit of a grin at them. He's being friendly, which gives him away to anyone that actually knows him, but at least it lulls the pair into a false image of them. Thank god he's had years to perfect social graces he's not inclined to have.
His brows twitch up, briefly, as Stiles looks at him and he returns the momentary gaze. But when he returns his gaze ahead to Anita, he lets his senses focus further from them. He can hear someone moving around in the house, and the scents lingering on the pair in front of them are the main focus there, but there's also a... distinct newness to everything else, save for the Impala nearby.
Hm. ]
About. Had to work up to it. [ Again, he raises both eyebrows, but it's more in reserved interest. ] You guys from the west coast, or is this your first taste of it?
We travel a lot, but it's been awhile since we've been to California. At least for my brother and I. I'm more familiar with the Stanford area, but from what we've seen, Beacon Hills seems nice.
[As if on cue, this is when Dean starts to walk back outside from the house. Sam half turns, and glances over, before returning his attention to the neighbours.]
Speaking of, that's my brother, Dean.
[Meanwhile, Dean makes his approach to unload more things to bring inside.]
What are you doing Sammy? We don't keep you around to stand there and look pretty. Come help me with this.
I'm originally from Indiana, but I've been out this way a few times. Went to UC Berkeley.
[Well. She'd applied and been accepted, but apparently, college just hadn't been in the cards. Oh well. What was a hunter going to do with a biology degree, anyway? When she was younger, she'd wanted to teach, or maybe go into medicine, but around fifteen it became pretty obvious that any big dreams she might have had were going to get derailed.
She tries hard not to visibly wince when Dean comes out of the house and immediately orders Sam to help him. While, yes, Sam is here to lend a hand, considering their situation, it wouldn't be a bad idea to make a good first impression. She looks over her shoulder and beckons for Dean to come join them, nodding her head towards both Derek and Stiles.]
Hey, sweet! I'm getting my masters from UCLA. [ What do you know, small world.
No, that wince definitely did not go unnoticed. Stiles glances between the two of them with analyzing amber eyes--at first, he'd thought the tall one (and holy shit, he's bigger than Derek and that's impressive) was the husband, but one glance at Dean says otherwise. Aside from the charming way he ordered the other guy around-siblings, probably?--something between them just screamed married couple. He's already a little unimpressed with Dean; Anita seems like a sweetheart. ]
Yeah, we don't bite. [ No one's thinking that's funny but Stiles. Not even Derek, and he's in on the joke. ]
It's a quiet corner of California. People think it's one of those "middle of nowhere" towns, but it's not exactly accurate. [ For the most part. If you don't wind up in the middle of what amounts to attempts at supernatural turf wars, anyways. Derek is a little tired of the more malevolent members of their side of the world trying to weasel their ways into Beacon Hills, but it's to be expected. Their pack is small, if impressive, and it's a big territory.
Makes people think they're complacent, despite the stories.
His attention goes towards the second man, and already he's fairly unimpressed. He must be the one that's anti-cats, and he can't help but quietly rumble something to the cat in his possession before he lets her climb up to stand on his shoulder.
And just like that, she's obediently jumping down and scampering back to the house as the alpha werewolf gives Stiles such a flat look. ]
[Dean doesn't feel particularly social- they've had a longass drive and he's exhausted, so as far as he's concerned, his grumpiness is justified. But both Anita and Sam are calling him over so he can't just take a raincheck on the pleasantries. It's a damn shame, too. This would go a lot better with a couple of beers.
Sighing, he walks over, standing between Sam and Anita.]
I take it you've met my wife and brother.
[Way to state the obvious. But at least the visible exhaustion might make them cut him some slack.]
I'm Dean.
[He's missed most of this conversation, so he's not adding any input.
Sam on the other hand, continues speaking after glancing to Dean.]
This is far from middle of no where, actually. Dean and I have driven through some ghost towns before. Backwoods, population two-fifty and nothing else around for a hundred miles- middle of no where.
[Anita knows damn well that being social is the last thing Dean wants to do right now, but she scoots closer to him to put an arm around his waist and sink one hand into his back pocket, appreciative of his willingness to play along. She takes advantage of the convenient placement to give his behind a promising squeeze. Play nice, Dean, and you'll get to kick your feet up with a beer or two before long.]
Compared to that, Beacon Hills is a sprawling metropolis.
[Honestly, it was the kind of place she wouldn't have minded putting roots down in permanently, if they were the type. Big cities had their perks, sure, but she preferred something smaller and quieter without being entirely desolate. Beacon Hills would have fit the bill perfectly.
Oh my god, my condolences, that sounds awful. [ Okay, maybe he's a little bit of a drama queen, but shh. ] Hopefully you guys'll like it here, then. If you need something to do, trust me when I say we are really familiar with this town. All the ins and outs. For twenty years.
[ Yeah he's never lived anywhere else, did you get the hint? He turns his attention to Dean, mouth quirking up at the exhaustion. ] Should we let you guys get back to moving? If you need any help...
My sister and I took a road trip, once. Went through a lot of backwater towns just to see the "attractions." [ The airquotes are obvious in his tone, a side effect of being married to Stiles. But the sympathy is there, as well, even as he tries to assess the trio in front of him. ] Definitely makes Beacon Hills a metropolis.
[ Which Stiles above all else knows that he would rather not have happen-- he hated New York, even when Laura loved it, and he prefers the quiet here when there's no chaos around them.
Considering Stiles' half-offer, he tries to decide what the best course of action would be. The new neighbors smell like salt and gunpowder. Their most recent arrival smells like summer and... well, no two ways around it. He smells like a damn diner, or a barbeque. Fast food and apple pie.
They could help, which would let him get a better read on their scents, or they could go home and he can tell Stiles exactly why he's a line of tension against his back. ]
[Dean focuses a considerable amount of his attention on the hand in his pocket. It's a small reward for being good so far, especially when he really doesn't want to be. Playing the part is so much easier when he's not longing for their brand new couch and a cold beer.
At the mention of help, though...]
If you wanna help, I'm not going to object. Sammy here's built like an ox so it's not going to be any skin off his back if it's just us doing it. A lot of what's left is heavy.
[Sam's obviously the one more adept at this right now. Then again, he's always been the one with the charm. It had to be his eyes and his babyface.]
[It might be a small reward, but there's the promise of something much bigger later, though not before the new couch is thoroughly broken in by the three of them collapsing onto it with beer and lemonade. After that, of course, there's also a new bed to be tested in any number of ways.
The offer of help would be tempting if they were anyone else, but the fact of the matter was that there were a lot of things in those boxes that they didn't want their new neighbors to see. Most of the weapons were still on lockdown in the trunk, but there were a few boxes of books and other ticklish items still in the backseat of the Impala that Anita would be handling herself. She had carried a few of them in so far, but there were still a couple more to be shoved somewhere out of sight before anyone got too curious.
Truth be told, aside from rental furniture and their hunting gear, they didn't have much. They'd all grown accustomed to living their lives out of backpacks and overnight bags -- the boys had been doing it even longer than Anita had.]
Appreciated, but Sam's right, the three of us can handle it. We don't want to take up any more of your day. Besides, we don't have that much left to carry in. These two are used to heavy lifting.
[Or, you know. Grave digging. Physical labor, at any rate.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
That was quite friendly actually.
mooseperson who comes up next.A quick glance down to his hand revealed that no, not the husband. Must be the brother in law. Offering a quick wave, he jams his hands back in his pockets, quietly sizing them up. This dude's huge (but not in a Derek way), and it's funny to see how he comes up behind Anita, as protective as anything. There was definitely something amiss here, or Stiles' first name wasn't...well it was none of your business what it was. He returns the handshake quickly, though.]
Aw, come on, we're not gonna bite. Stiles, we live in the house right there--and our cat decided to come and claim your house before you guys even showed up. You must be the brother in law?
Proud of my luck.
mooseother man that comes up makes quick work of keeping him from going on a tirade. His scent's more along the lines of spring, in both a general sense and the fact there's something floral-- shampoo, probably, judging by his hair-- but there's something off about him, too. Something along the lines of a library or a study is there, with the gunpowder and salt, but also...Sulfur? Very faintly, like his clothes hung up in a closet with a hunk of it and the traces are just barely hanging on a week or two later. The subvocal rumble returns, against Stiles' back, but leaves before he speaks again. He may be unaware of Anita's assessment and own confusion, but he's not going to basically growl at the new neighbors. ]
Derek. Nice meeting you. [ He chuffs at Stiles' comment, offering Sam his hand after he and Stiles have exchanged their greetings. ] Both of you.
no subject
[Sam shakes Derek's hand briefly. He's sure to smile, sure to look as normal as any other person. It's second nature, considering how much effort it puts into normalcy on a daily basis. These people seem like they're nice enough, he guesses. Sam really doesn't have a lot of experience in anything legitimately domestic. Of course, this really isn't legit, is it? It's a case, first and foremost, but beyond that, Sam thinks this'll be good for both Dean and Anita.
It's no secret to him that Dean wants to settle down, so this might be the push that he needs to actually get him to do it. Just giving him a little taste of that fabled apple pie life. Everyone knows hunters who stay in the game for too long end up one of two ways: dead or bitter old alcoholics. He doesn't want that for either of them.]
I guess that's stereotypical for a cat. Don't let Dean know, though. He's allergic.
[Casual conversation? He's trying.]
no subject
We just won't tell him. I'm pretty sure he'll live. Oh, sure, it might be touch and go for a few minutes, but he'll pull through.
[Their precious mattress was safe, at least -- she hoped. Even if the cat had shed on it a little, what Dean didn't know wouldn't hurt him, in this case. Maybe a sneeze or two, but it was on him if he chose to be a big baby about it.]
Have you two lived here long?
[It was a benign enough question, right? She was curious. They were a young couple -- maybe around the same age as she and Sam were. It was hard to tell. Derek might have been a touch older? Not that it made a difference, but profiling people was something that came naturally in their line of work.]
no subject
Glancing back at Derek for a minute, he looks up, considering-- and then turns his attention back to Anita. If she's profiling, he's doing it too, a habit that became increasingly useful in his life. They seem normal enough, probably about the same age, although he has yet to meet this mysterious Dean character--Stiles is starting to imagine someone like from the Godfather, sitting in the darkness with his hands folded over the table. Weird.]
In this house? Nah, like--what, almost a year? This is a pretty new thing. It's a nice neighborhood and town's awesome, even if it's sleepy. [ For the non-supernaturally inclined. ]
no subject
His brows twitch up, briefly, as Stiles looks at him and he returns the momentary gaze. But when he returns his gaze ahead to Anita, he lets his senses focus further from them. He can hear someone moving around in the house, and the scents lingering on the pair in front of them are the main focus there, but there's also a... distinct newness to everything else, save for the Impala nearby.
Hm. ]
About. Had to work up to it. [ Again, he raises both eyebrows, but it's more in reserved interest. ] You guys from the west coast, or is this your first taste of it?
no subject
[As if on cue, this is when Dean starts to walk back outside from the house. Sam half turns, and glances over, before returning his attention to the neighbours.]
Speaking of, that's my brother, Dean.
[Meanwhile, Dean makes his approach to unload more things to bring inside.]
What are you doing Sammy? We don't keep you around to stand there and look pretty. Come help me with this.
no subject
[Well. She'd applied and been accepted, but apparently, college just hadn't been in the cards. Oh well. What was a hunter going to do with a biology degree, anyway? When she was younger, she'd wanted to teach, or maybe go into medicine, but around fifteen it became pretty obvious that any big dreams she might have had were going to get derailed.
She tries hard not to visibly wince when Dean comes out of the house and immediately orders Sam to help him. While, yes, Sam is here to lend a hand, considering their situation, it wouldn't be a bad idea to make a good first impression. She looks over her shoulder and beckons for Dean to come join them, nodding her head towards both Derek and Stiles.]
Honey, take a break, come meet the neighbors.
no subject
No, that wince definitely did not go unnoticed. Stiles glances between the two of them with analyzing amber eyes--at first, he'd thought the tall one (and holy shit, he's bigger than Derek and that's impressive) was the husband, but one glance at Dean says otherwise. Aside from the charming way he ordered the other guy around-siblings, probably?--something between them just screamed married couple. He's already a little unimpressed with Dean; Anita seems like a sweetheart. ]
Yeah, we don't bite. [ No one's thinking that's funny but Stiles. Not even Derek, and he's in on the joke. ]
no subject
Makes people think they're complacent, despite the stories.
His attention goes towards the second man, and already he's fairly unimpressed. He must be the one that's anti-cats, and he can't help but quietly rumble something to the cat in his possession before he lets her climb up to stand on his shoulder.
And just like that, she's obediently jumping down and scampering back to the house as the alpha werewolf gives Stiles such a flat look. ]
no subject
Sighing, he walks over, standing between Sam and Anita.]
I take it you've met my wife and brother.
[Way to state the obvious. But at least the visible exhaustion might make them cut him some slack.]
I'm Dean.
[He's missed most of this conversation, so he's not adding any input.
Sam on the other hand, continues speaking after glancing to Dean.]
This is far from middle of no where, actually. Dean and I have driven through some ghost towns before. Backwoods, population two-fifty and nothing else around for a hundred miles- middle of no where.
no subject
Compared to that, Beacon Hills is a sprawling metropolis.
[Honestly, it was the kind of place she wouldn't have minded putting roots down in permanently, if they were the type. Big cities had their perks, sure, but she preferred something smaller and quieter without being entirely desolate. Beacon Hills would have fit the bill perfectly.
Except for, you know. The ongoing murders.]
no subject
[ Yeah he's never lived anywhere else, did you get the hint? He turns his attention to Dean, mouth quirking up at the exhaustion. ] Should we let you guys get back to moving? If you need any help...
no subject
[ Which Stiles above all else knows that he would rather not have happen-- he hated New York, even when Laura loved it, and he prefers the quiet here when there's no chaos around them.
Considering Stiles' half-offer, he tries to decide what the best course of action would be. The new neighbors smell like salt and gunpowder. Their most recent arrival smells like summer and... well, no two ways around it. He smells like a damn diner, or a barbeque. Fast food and apple pie.
They could help, which would let him get a better read on their scents, or they could go home and he can tell Stiles exactly why he's a line of tension against his back. ]
no subject
At the mention of help, though...]
If you wanna help, I'm not going to object. Sammy here's built like an ox so it's not going to be any skin off his back if it's just us doing it. A lot of what's left is heavy.
[Sam's obviously the one more adept at this right now. Then again, he's always been the one with the charm. It had to be his eyes and his babyface.]
I'm sure we can handle it. Thanks for the offer.
no subject
The offer of help would be tempting if they were anyone else, but the fact of the matter was that there were a lot of things in those boxes that they didn't want their new neighbors to see. Most of the weapons were still on lockdown in the trunk, but there were a few boxes of books and other ticklish items still in the backseat of the Impala that Anita would be handling herself. She had carried a few of them in so far, but there were still a couple more to be shoved somewhere out of sight before anyone got too curious.
Truth be told, aside from rental furniture and their hunting gear, they didn't have much. They'd all grown accustomed to living their lives out of backpacks and overnight bags -- the boys had been doing it even longer than Anita had.]
Appreciated, but Sam's right, the three of us can handle it. We don't want to take up any more of your day. Besides, we don't have that much left to carry in. These two are used to heavy lifting.
[Or, you know. Grave digging. Physical labor, at any rate.]