This uses the character of Dean Winchester from the Supernatural TV series, and makes passing reference to his brother Sam. I do not own these characters (damn, but I wish I did!)
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Quietly sipping her third wine, she wondered where the hell Toni had gotten to. They were supposed to meet here an hour ago, have a couple of drinks and then head out to some new flash nightclub Toni had been raving about. Bet she's got distracted by some gorgeous guy. How does she always attract the decent ones?
Damn it, it looked like tonight was going to be a total bust. She'd really been looking forward to a bit of clubbing tonight too. It'd been a while since she'd had any action and she'd decided tonight she was going to get her some if she possibly could.
Not flaming likely in this crowd, she thought, as she looked distractedly around the pub. The only men not obviously taken were the three middle-aged men propping up the bar, hazed in fumes and throwing lecherous looks at any passing female. There was no way she was that desperate. So much for the pleasant wine buzz and the come-play clubbing outfit. She might as well finish her drink and just go home to her toys.
Her eyes turned to the door as it opened. Not Toni. But the decor had definitely just improved markedly. Two men walked in - tall, tanned and terrific. They were in their 20s by the look of them, in jeans and shirts that showed off well defined fit bodies.
One seemed impossibly tall, with shaggy dark hair and a slightly distracted expression, like he'd rather be somewhere else. He carried a bunch of newspapers, which he promptly spread out and began reading as they got to a table.
The other one was obviously in his element, sauntering to the bar. He leaned on the bar, waiting for his drinks, she checked him out from the darkness of the booth. Just over 6ft tall, broad shoulders and a strong back, tapering down to a glorious firm butt. As he turned, drinks in hand, she caught the end of the smile he'd flashed at the barmaid. Holy Cow! No wonder Sal had fumbled handing over the change.
As he headed back to the table, he scouted the room. Her eyes followed his. With one or two obvious exceptions all the girls seemed paired off. He sighed as he sat down, reluctantly joining his buddy's research, but obviously not giving it his whole attention. His eyes continued to check around the room at regular intervals.
But he hadn't seen her, alone. He hadn't seen her watching his sensuous mouth as he sipped his beer, or the way his muscles rippled as he reached for something across the table.
And now her glass was empty. She knew Sal would bring her another wine if she signalled her. And she had deliberately picked this booth so as not to draw too much unwanted attention. But now she wanted to be seen.
Choosing a path that took her past his table, she sashayed to the bar. Sal was waiting. "I could've brought you one, honey," she said, putting the glass of wine down in front of her. "But then he wouldn't have seen you, would he?" and she winked.
"Is he looking?"
"Is the Pope Catholic?"
"Good." She picked up her glass.
"Have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Sal grinned.
She returned the smile: "That should give me plenty of scope."
Turning from the bar, her eyes fell on him again. His penetrating gaze was aimed straight at her. She felt her heart jump. Good lord, this one should come with a health warning! His sensuous mouth curved into a grin, as though he could read her thought. She looked away, then realised she was checking out his chest and ... belt buckle.
