Sallie Abigail Reynolds (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
realmrsreynolds) wrote2008-04-02 02:25 pm
realmrsreynolds) wrote2008-04-02 02:25 pm
Entry tags:
On Shadow.
Sallie's accustomed by this point in her career in Milliways with bringing people through to her house.
Sometimes however, she does forget to mention that her door leads to the back end of her walk-in pantry.
"Mind the rice bags, please," Sallie throws out behind her. "I haven't had a chance to put them away yet."
'Them', here, meaning 'a stack of burlap bags waist high that restricts the narrow walkway of actual living space to about half of its original width'.
Sallie's concise like that; even she has issues navigating it all.
Sometimes however, she does forget to mention that her door leads to the back end of her walk-in pantry.
"Mind the rice bags, please," Sallie throws out behind her. "I haven't had a chance to put them away yet."
'Them', here, meaning 'a stack of burlap bags waist high that restricts the narrow walkway of actual living space to about half of its original width'.
Sallie's concise like that; even she has issues navigating it all.
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(She'll go to the infirmary tomorrow, quietly; she can't work with her hip hurting that bad.)
With Dean's assistance, she heads toward the small spare bedroom just off of the living room, still silent.
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He can't do anything to fix the table, but he finds something that looks like a tablecloth, and uses that to cover it up.
It doesn't take too long; the kitchen's not that big.
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He looks up at Sam when he hears him moving around, one hand coming up to scratch at the back of his head.
Then he looks at Sallie.
"So. Uh. Since everything here's taken care of now. Uh. We can head on out. Send one of your hands to look in on you."
Or something.
God, this is really friggin' awkward.
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Sam's hovering at the door of the bedroom with equal parts uncertainty and stubbornness clearly apparent.
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He looks a little constipated.
This, this right here, is not gonna be a thing they talk about.
Is it?
"Leave her be, okay? She's got people here that'll take care of her. We--"
He's already shoving past Sam and out the door.
"We've got other shit to do. Come on."
There's other stuff Dean could say, but that's a set of doors he ain't ever gonna open.
Not if he can help it.