Chapter 10

                                    

                                          
Defending Your Life
"Excuse me," Dean muttered when a man bumped into his shoulder as we walked into the bar.
I sat down at the bar, resting my chin in the palm of my hand.
Dean said down next to me as a blonde waitress walked up. "What can I get you?" she asked, smiling.
"Scotch and a soda," Dean answered. "You know what, hold the soda. Make it a double."
"I'll have a beer," I said.
She filled a glass, sliding it to Dean, then handed me a beer. 
"So, uh, you work the night shift?" Dean asked.
"Why? You plan on making this a regular thing?" the bartender replied.
I rolled my eyes. 
"No, I just got a few questions. Believe it or not, I'm a cop."
She leaned against the counter, eyes flickering over him. "I believe it," she decided. "You look like you've seen from crap. I'm sorry. I was off all week. But Frank will be back tomorrow."
Dean nodded his head, then downed the glass of liquor. "I'll do another."
"Love life or job? Two quick doubles, it's something. I'm Mia, by the way."
I rolled my eyes again. "We should go," I said quietly.
"Well, Mia, that is a complex question," Dean replied. "I'm Dean, by the way."
"Is it though?" I asked. "Oh, and I'm sick, by the way."
Dean scoffed a laugh, nudging my knee under the bar.
"Well, Dean, luckily, I'm like a captive shrink with unlimited alcohol," Mia told him. "So shoot."
Dean laughed. "You like hearing people's problems."
Mia grabbed a glass for herself, filling it and Dean's. "I get curious...on occasion."
"Alright, yeah, we're done here." I leaned forward. "Mia, give us a minute, please?"
Mia looked between the two of us, as if realizing for the first time we were here together. "Sure," she said, crossing to the other side of the bar.
"Jealous, buttercup?" Dean asked, a teasing glint in his eye.
"Annoyed, honeybunch," I quipped, taking the glass from his hand. "You're done."
"Says who?"
"Says me because I don't want you passing out in the middle of sex later, so slow your roll, buddy," I told him, knowing that was the best way to make sure he was going to pay attention. I placed the glass down. "Second of all, I know what's bothering you and I don't like it."
"What I did or--?" Dean began.
"That you keep obsessing and it's making you feel bad."
Dean shrugged his shoulders. "I had to, you know that, right?"
"I'm not here to judge you, Dean. I'm here to keep you from killing your liver. If truly believe you had to do it, you don't need to feel guilty."
"Yeah, well..." Dean muttered.
I set a hand on his forearm, giving it a squeeze. 
"You were lying when you said we were having sex later, weren't you?" Dean changed the subject.
I smiled. "Buck up, honeybunch, I was not lying." I wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "You need to relax, get rid of all this stress. Even if it's just for an hour, you need a distraction. And you know what? Having sex with you isn't all that bad. I find it mildly tolerable," I joked.