"You got to be fucking kidding me!" Lizzy shouts at the screen with anger. "Holding!? Are you fucking blind!?"
Sam huffs a laugh as he starts to think that maybe they've been drinking a little too much. He's starting to feel a bit foggy.
"Fucking refs," Lizzy grumbles with another sip from her fourth beer… or is it her fifth… who knows really.
"I forgot how obsessed you are with football," Sam remarks with Lizzy's growing anger at what she views as the third bad call against her team.
"Fall, dude. There's nothing better," Lizzy says with love. "Granted, fall in Los Angeles really isn't the same as at home, but still. Football, crisp air, apple pie… shit, it's amazing. Yes! I'll take it!" Lizzy cheers in a partially happy manner to the screen. She'd much rather have seen a touchdown but oh well. A field goal still puts points on the board. "Bryce! Two more!"
"What?" Sam asks in a slight panic. "That wasn't even a touchdown."
"I said we do a shot every time the Pats scored, not every touchdown," Lizzy points at him, reminding him of the rules.
"Jesus, I'm gonna be tanked."
"Hey, them's the rules, big guy! This is what Lou and I used to do, so buck up buckaroo!"
The bartender pours two more shots and slides them over.
"Thanks dude!" Lizzy smiles and hands Sam one of the glasses. "Hey, at least I didn't pick tequila, right?"
"Thank God," Sam agrees as they clink shot glasses and down the whiskey in them. "Also, thank God we walked here." He makes a patented whiskey face.
"No shit, huh?" Lizzy laughs. "And by the way, drinks are on me today." Lizzy grins wide and holds up a brand new credit card for Sam to see.
"Lita Ford?" Sam smiles wide at the name on the card. "Really?"
"Sure as shit. I'm in this life for good by now, right? It's about time I popped my credit fraud cherry."
"Well, yeah, but Dean and I have so much fraud to our names that it's fine. We're good with taking the hit and leaving you out of it, especially since in the eyes of the law we're, you know… dead."
"Call it my own financial freedom then," Lizzy explains. "Got my laptop with it and now I'm gonna cover our Sunday Funday with it."
"You're crazy," Sam responds, but grins all the while.
"Mm, love that man," Lizzy completely changes the subject when she gets a great shot of Tom Brady on the sidelines. "Look at the ass on him."
"I'd rather not," Sam responds, downing more beer.
"Oh come on! That man is fine. You can't tell me you don't know that just by looking at him. Be secure in your manhood, Sam!"
"I'm secure enough, thanks."
"Then admit it."
"Just do it."
"And what do you get outta that? My embarrassment?"
"Kinda," Lizzy admits with a mischievous grin. "But that's was half of the fun of hanging out with Lou, especially on Sundays when we'd take time off. I never get to be like that anymore, you know? All I have are dudes around me. I miss talking shop with her."
"Shop?" Sam questions, almost afraid of what shop means for her and her sister.
"Yeah, shop. Hot boys, clothes, football, our families and memories, guns we want to get, sex… Oh I miss talking sex with her the most."
"Why is that?"
"Because she was awesome! Louie had zero shame whatsoever. She told me everything and anything, as did I. Some of our most interesting conversations were centered on sex."
"She told you everything, huh?" Sam nervously wonders as he takes a large gulp of his beer.
The Cheshire cat grin that slowly makes its way across Lizzy's face unnerves him even more.
"Pretty much," Lizzy answers shortly and looks back to the screen, letting Sam sit in his paranoia for a little longer.
"She ever, you know… say anything? About me?"
"Jesus Christ," Sam says with his eyes closed. Not cool Lou, not cool.
"Hey, she knew all about Dean and his little kinks from me, so why shouldn't I know yours?"
"Oh no," Sam complains with his palms pressed to his eyes.
"Oh yes," Lizzy laughs right back. "Trust me, you're nothing compared to your brother from what she told me so relax."
"I'd hope not," Sam fights back. "Dean's ridiculous. And that doesn't make me feel any better."
"You really need to stop buying your panties in such a small size. They're so tight they're cutting off your circulation and making you grumpy."
"That's cute, Lizzy," Sam remarks. "Keep it up."
"Calm down, ok? I highly doubt you two never discussed anything about Louie and I behind closed doors."
"Well Dean never keeps his trap shut so I might know some stuff about you," Sam admits.
"Ha! I knew it!" Lizzy laughs hardily. "Now you gotta tell me!"
"No way," Sam nearly shouts with how uncomfortable this conversation has gotten.
"Wow, half drunk and you still won't get that stick outta your ass," Lizzy disses.
"Stop telling me I have a stick in my ass…."
"Then lighten up and pull out that stick in your ass, Sam!" Lizzy laughs once more and Sam's done with the insults. He has plenty of ammo for this conversation so if she really wants to go there then he will go there.
"Ok. Fine. I can play this game," Sam smirks and sips his beer. "So I hear you have quite a knack for using the English language creatively."
Lizzy's face goes serious for a second as she looks at him with narrowed eyes. "Go on."
"Apparently you dirty talk like a pro."
"Oh no. I'm polite and sweet as pie between the sheets," she jokes, knowing he's trying to rattle her cage a little with what he knows.
"Not from what Dean's said."
"Yeah, ok you got me. My favorite medium to work in is filth sometimes… only when the mood strikes of course."
"From what he's told me, you seriously need to wash your mouth out with soap."
"Ooh, maybe I should make Dean do that to me next time," Lizzy smiles wide with a glint in her eye at the suggestion and looks back to the TV. "See, I knew you two talked to each other."
"No. Like I said, Dean talks and I have no choice but to listen."
"Ha, that sucks."
"Tell me about it."
"So I guess it's my turn," Lizzy tries to think back on what Lou told her.
"Doesn't have to be your turn," Sam huffs.
"Oh yes it does. Now, if I recall correctly, the one and only Mr. Samuel Winchester has quite the thing for, let's say, going out to eat." The silence from him paired with the rosy color creeping across his face makes Lizzy bust a gut right then and there.
"That's not that weird," Sam shakes his head and guzzles the last of his beer.
"Um, normally no it's not weird for a guy to do that. But it is weird if you never, ever have sex before getting a girl off with your mouth first," Lizzy tell him with a big smile. "I mean, please don't get me wrong here. I don't know too many women who would be upset with you on that…"
"Lou sure didn't mind," Sam quips with an arched eyebrow.
"I'm sure she didn't!" Lizzy giggles. "But she said you did that every time you guys hooked up so I gotta know… is that, like, a requirement? Do you have to, like seriously have to, do that before you bang a girl every single time or is it just a coincidence?"
"Lou and I didn't really hook up all that much before she…" Sam stops himself. "But, uh, honestly, I just like doing it. Really like doing it." Sam shrugs trying to brush off the moment.
"But why?" Lizzy pries even further, knowing she's pushing him most likely too far for his own comfort. "What is it about working out that tongue of yours that gets you off so much?"
"Um, I'm not sure," Sam truthfully wonders as he thinks about it. "I never really thought about it. It's just… fun, I think. It's a turn on for me. I like seeing women enjoy themselves like that."
"Well I must commend you on that, my friend," Lizzy says with a pat on his shoulder. "That is one hell of an excellent sexual quirk to have."
"Why thank you," Sam smiles to her as a fresh beer is put in front of him. Their bartender is getting used to them now and is definitely angling for a good tip by keeping the booze coming.
"No, let me thank you on behalf of the whole female race, especially since Lou raved about your skills," Lizzy looks at Sam with a happy smile and tips her glass to him. "Man it feels good to talk like this again. I haven't had anyone to talk to like a friend for so damn long." She takes down a big gulp.
"What about Dean?" Sam tries to excuse.
"Yeah, we talk but he's Dean, you know? He's different than a friend. I mean he's like the best friend I could ask for, but it isn't like Louie. He's my dude and that's a whole different thing."
Sam nods understandingly at what she says. It does make sense.
"And right now, lord knows I could use my best friend back." She really could.
"Well, I don't think I've ever had a real friend besides Dean my whole life," Sam comments after he thinks about it. "Never had friends growing up because we always moved. All I had was my brother. Had a couple people back in Stanford, but that's been gone for years now."
"Well then, I guess we'll just have to settle for each other from now on," Lizzy grins while raising her glass to him. They cheers and sip their beers. "And I'm glad I can talk to you like this again… now that the whole, uh, attraction thing is done."
Sam nods once more with her words. He did find a way to stop looking at Lizzy in the wrong light. For a while there he got his emotions so fucked up that he was finding himself attracted to her, even wanting her. Luckily that's a thing of the past.
"That is done, right?" Lizzy further wonders. Sam was a vault usually and she never tried to press the issue with him too much. She knows he held a lot of guilt and embarrassment over it also.
"Oh, yeah. It's done."
They watch the game in silence for a little bit, drinking their beers and enjoying each other's company. Finally they are in a good place. They were the friends they should have been all along. No weirdo attractions, no distrust or secrets… just good friends.
"I have more you know," Sam quietly says, feeling the buzz of the alcohol making it easier to talk to Lizzy like this. Maybe she's right. He does need to lighten up. And it does feel damn good to converse with someone not named Dean for once.
"More what?" Lizzy wonders, her booze addled brain a little lost for a moment.
"Shut the fuck up, you little slut," Sam says in a demanding tone and Lizzy's eye blow wide. Fucking Dean and his big fucking mouth. He told Sam about that. Sam starts laughing his ass off with her very surprised reaction. "Lizzy, I swear I never pegged you as a chick who'd like to be a little degraded now and then. Never in a million years."
"You know they say that people are the exact opposite of their personalities when in bed," Lizzy informs him. "That's why I like to sometimes, um, get told what to do I guess and you are not the strictly sensitive, love-making type people most likely assume that you are."
Sam considers this theory. "Yeah, you might be right there."
Sitting back against the headboard of his bed, remote in one hand and beer in the other, he can hear Lizzy giggling outside the door.
"What the fuck?" Dean quietly says to himself as the door unlocks.
"No fucking way, dude!" Lizzy laughs out as she stumbles through the door.
"I swear!" Sam answers with a big, dumb smile as he follows her in. "That's what she told me."
"There's no way that chick said that… hi baby!" Lizzy loudly greets as she sees Dean lounging.
"The hell have you guys been?" Dean asks as he sits up tall and watches them walk in unsteady on their feet. "Are you two drunk?"
"Oh yeah," Sam answers as he further loosens his tie and makes his way clumsily to his bed. He flops down onto it, his hair rebounding into his face as he does. "Too drunk probably." The room starts to spin a little as he looks up at the ceiling. "Ok, way too drunk… definitely."
"What the hell? I thought you were out working?" Dean's anger sets in immediately. He stands up and surveys Lizzy and Sam's behavior. Fuck, they are completely shitfaced.
"We were," Lizzy explains as she pulls off her heels that were hurting her still. "Oh God! That feels so much better!"
"Such a pussy," Sam comments with Lizzy's complaint and she throws her shoes at Sam, hitting him first in the stomach and then missing his head by an inch with her second shoe as she laughs.
"Fuck you, slut!" Sam calls out as he continues to stare at the ceiling. He grabs the shoe that hit him in the gut and blindly throws it back at her.
"Ow!" Dean growls through gritted teeth when the shiny black pump hits his shoulder. "Wait… did you just call L a slut?"
"Oops," Sam huffs a laugh Lizzy grabs her stomach with the giggles.
"Doesn't look like you got much work done," Dean remarks, irritated by their drunken status.
"Doesn't look like you got much done either!" Sam laughs as he points to the Anna Nicole Playboy lying out on Dean's bed.
"Ooh!" Lizzy says while pointing at Dean with a surprised face when he gets caught.
"That was just… I was done with my end of the research by then," Dean excuses, though he wasn't. He started out with his usually Busty Asian Beauties, but ended up in a nostalgic mood. He finished his work once he'd had his fun.
"So were we! We talked to the journalist just like we were supposed to. Then, once I saw that the Pats game was on, we decided to stay at the bar to watch. They fucked the Jets right in the ass by the way. It was beautiful," Lizzy explains with enthusiasm. "Look, I even brought you back food like I said I would!" She holds out a white plastic bag with a Styrofoam container in it with a proud smile.
"So you text me to get to work on research while you and Sam got wasted?"
Lizzy just stares at Dean for a second with confusion. Why was he so mad?
"It's not a big deal…" she starts.
"Oh yeah, not at all," Dean caustically responds. "Sounds like you had a grand old time while I was stuck here."
"Dean, you do that to me all the time," Sam defiantly says, looking to defend Lizzy as much as he can. He sits up and stares at his brother for a second. "You've gone off to drink without me plenty of times. Calm down, man. It was just a few hours."
"A few hours of me doing all the leg work and climbing the freakin' walls."
"Hey," Lizzy stumbles a little and walks over to stand in front of Dean. "I needed a little bit of time for once. Life has sucked recently…"
"Tell me about it," Dean spits out as he's beginning to think she's forgetting how much the miscarriage has affected him too.
"And I just wanted to have some fun. And when was the last time I got to watch a Pats game? Or hang out with just Sam?"
"I can't remember the last time we did that," Sam answers while lying back on his bed once more. "So long ago…"
"But so fun," Lizzy adds before looking back to Dean. "It was good for me. And it made me think about good times with Louie in a really good way. And for two hours, I never once thought about… everything you and I are dealing with right now. Hot Shot, this wasn't about excluding you. This was about me. Maybe I was being selfish but I'm never shell fish, you know that."
"Shell fish," Sam mutters out as he laughs over her drunken mistake.
"Eat me, Sam!" Lizzy shouts back and realizes her misstep immediately. "No wait! You'd like that too much!"
The two howl their laughter again and the happy moment, one were Lizzy and Sam are just being normal and enjoying themselves, and maybe even acting like siblings, makes Dean instantly feel like a jerk for getting mad. As much as this affected him, he knows she's having a much harder time with it. One thing Lizzy can't handle is the what could have been scenarios and the self-blame she puts on herself. She still feels it's her fault that Lou died, she still thinks she could have done more to keep Dean out of the pit and Sam out of Ruby's clutches, and now all she can do is think that it's somehow on her that she lost the baby. Maybe she did need some time for fun.
"What's in the box?" Dean asks in a lighter tone, nodding to the plastic bag in her hand once Lizzy wipes her eyes and calms her laughter.
She smiles up at him. "Double bacon cheeseburger with onion rings."
"That's my girl," he grins a little and takes the bag from her. "Alright, I can forgive for not inviting me then."
Lizzy pushes up on her tiptoes and kisses him sweetly in thanks his for understanding. "Chiefs are Sunday night football you know. Starts in like twenty minutes."
"Guess I should get some more beer then," Dean says to her as he puts his dinner on the table and grabs a motel key.
"You know how much I love you, right?" Lizzy grins wide at him and Dean winks at her once before leaving.
"You know how much I love you, right?" Sam says in an overly mocking voice, making fun of her and Dean's loving moment.
"Don't be a jerk," Lizzy laughs over to him while turning on the TV.
"I thought you were supposed to be a badass," Sam calls her out while closing his eyes. He should never have agreed to so many shots.
"Excuse you, but I am a badass," Lizzy says right back, taking her blazer off. "And for your information, badasses have hearts too."
"They also make lightweights drink more than they should," Sam complains as he drapes his forearm over his eyes. Spinning, spinning, spinning….
"You're admitting you're a lightweight?"
"I'm sorry," Lizzy says with a scrunched up face. She forgets sometimes that Sam doesn't drink nearly as much as she does.
"Don't be sorry. Just make the room stop turning in circles and we're even."
"Oh man," Lizzy chuckles as she walks to the small refrigerator and grabs him a bottle of water. She also grabs her ibuprofen from her bag before sitting down next to the giant man lying across his bed in peril. With a pained look she pats him on his knee twice. "Sit up dude."
Sam does so and looks at Lizzy with a dumb, sweet smile.
"Sam, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have gotten you to drink so much."
"S'ok," he tells her. "It was good, you know? You smiled for like hours so… worth it."
"You're too nice for your own good," Lizzy scolds him, dropping some pain pills into his hand.
"I'm starting to see that." He downs the pills.
"Thanks for sacrificing your wellbeing for me," Lizzy says with a hand on his arm. "Lou was right all along. You really are a sweet guy."
"Jesus, what is with you and the touchy feely crap tonight?"
Lizzy laughs at this. "Well, there are several modes of Drunken Lizzy. There's the angry drunk, the horny drunk, the chick-flick drunk…"
"At least you're not the depressed drunk," Sam adds his two cents while lying back down. "I don't like that one."
"Kiddo, neither do I." Lizzy gets up with a smile and starts grabbing more comfortable clothes to wear for the night.
"Don't call me kiddo," Sam complains quickly. "You think you and Dean will be ok?"
"We'll always be ok. We're meant to be ok." It was true. Nothing could tear them apart, they know that now. Only death will be able to break them up.
"No, I mean tomorrow."
"What about tomorrow?" Lizzy wonders over to him, her sweatpants and t-shirt in hand.
"The support group," Sam clarifies while turning his head to look over to her. "That could suck."
"I'm sure it will," Lizzy says seriously, having let herself forget about going to that tomorrow.
"I think it'll be good though," he adds. "Dean doesn't deal with shit very well. Maybe that will help him."
"Or it'll piss him off so much he starts throwing punches."
"One or the other," Sam laughs. "How're you doing with it all, Lizzy?"
Instead of answer, she ignores his question and pretends not to hear it. Lizzy heads into the bathroom to change and once the door is closed she drops her clothes on the floor and sits on the closed toilet seat. Face in her hands, she sighs. She may have given herself a couple hours reprieve, but it didn't take the pain of everything away. She's still bleeding and will be for a day or two more, which just makes it worse. It's a horrible reminder every second of the day. She'll admit that she's relieved that she won't be responsible for yet another life during the Apocalypse, but the sadness of not having that life she really wants is overwhelming.
Not so shockingly, she drank away her worries for a little while but, as always, it was just a temporary fix.
"You went too hard on him," Dean comments to Lizzy as the fourth quarter of the Chiefs games starts. She looks up confused but understands when Dean nods at Sam while bringing his arm around her shoulders. Once she gets an eyeful of the sprawled out mess of a man she gets it. The poor guy is passed out, legs hanging off the bed and still wearing his fed suit. And snoring quietly, a surefire sign of how drunk he is. Sam never snores when sober.
"I think you're right," she answers back before turning her attention once more to the television just in time to catch the next play. She leans against Dean and they sit together on their bed, backs against the headboard.
"I'm assuming he drank just as much as you did?" Dean huffs a laugh.
"Such a rookie. We need to get his tolerance up or something. A dude that size passing out like this, that's just sad," Dean smirks at his brother's resting form while sipping his beer. Sam's hangover is going to be nasty tomorrow and when Sam gets hungover he gets pukey. It won't be pretty. "And you're the one that gets to deal with him in the morning."
"No," Lizzy groans her complaint.
"Hell yes," Dean returns. "This is all your fault."
"Hey, I didn't force the booze down his throat…"
"But you put it in front of his face and made him feel like he had to drink it."
Lizzy looks at him with annoyance. "Are you calling me a bully?"
"Just saying, you swept the legs," Dean says with a shit eating grin.
"Don't compare me to the Cobra Kai, ok?" Lizzy answers back. "And I did not bully Sam into drinking."
"You keep telling yourself that," Dean laughs as he kills the last of his beer. He gets up. "One more?"
"Sure," Lizzy answers, downing the little left in her own bottle and handing the empty to him. "And I can't take care of the hungover Sasquatch tomorrow. You and I have to go to that meeting."
"Fucking awesome," Dean sarcastically remarks as he pulls two new beers from the refrigerator. "Can't wait to be in that comfortable and not at all awkward situation."
"Me neither," Lizzy says with distain. "But it could be wicked helpful to talk to the women that had those weird miscarriages."
"And that's the only reason I'm going," he tells her while handing over a fresh beer and sitting back into his spot next to her.
Lizzy smiles small at him before Dean turns his attention back to the game. She begins picking at the label of her beer before taking her first sip.
"Maybe it'll be helpful for more than just the case though," she quietly suggests while she gages his response.
"Seriously?" Dean asks her incredulously.
"Yes, seriously," she answers back. She sits up and faces him, crossing her legs Indian-style. "I mean, the whole thing couldn't hurt to go to for personal reasons, right?" After Sam mentioned how good the group meeting could be for them she realized how right he might be.
"I highly doubt that singing Kumbaya in a circle with a couple strangers is gonna make me feel like everything is ok."
"It won't be like that," she says and swats his arm for his pessimism. "I'm just saying that I think we can benefit. I'm not doing well, I'll be the first to admit it. This has thrown me for a pretty hard loop and I'm sad, and pissed, and, and… damn it, I'm so disappointed it fucking hurts, Dean. It hurts a lot. And knowing you the way I do, I don't think you're alright either."
Dean nods while looking down at his beer. "Not really."
"Didn't think so." Lizzy drops her hand onto his knee and Dean looks back up at her. "An open mind is all I'm looking for right now. Don't go in assuming the worst and who knows, maybe it'll help us through."
Sighing, still very nervous and doubtful of the meeting being anything but awful and uncomfortable, Dean gives in to her. How could he say no to her right now?
"Thank you," Lizzy smiles and kisses him in thanks.
"But I'm not hugging anyone!"
She laughs quietly at his irrational fear and settles in next to him once more.
"Swear to freakin' God," he warns while bringing his arm back around her shoulders. "If anyone hugs me I'm ditching your ass there."