[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.]
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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.]
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[ 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...
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[ 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.
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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.]