Plenty of Time[Tag: Anyone]

Waycca was in her night gear - a pair of baggy red sweatpants and a loose-fitting Batman shirt. Her wand was clenched between her teeth, shining modestly, as her hands were going to soon be too full to hold it. She was on a mission. A bag of chocolate chips that she'd already managed to scavenge was clutched in one hand, packet of dried apple crisps in the other. She'd missed most of dinner that night, and so was not going to let anything stand in the way of having a full stomach. A yawn pried her jaws open as she wandered around the kitchen, sock-covered feet whispering against the stone floors.

There was a bottle of butterbeer perched on top a tall cabinet - how'd the house elves manage to get up there to hide it, anyway? - but she didn't figure it was worth her time. Another few moments of searching and she'd managed to locate a peach and a pair of raspberry scones. It seemed her diet would be somewhat fruitier than usual tonight.

A string of curses erupted from her as she struck her pinky toe on the corner of a food cart. Seething, she bent to pick up the now slightly bruised peach she'd dropped and then continued on in her search.

Dean raised a brow as he watched the student from the dark corner he had been sitting in, he had needed the house elves to make a more complicated caffeinated drink for him before he retired to his rooms. Since it was late he had preferred to sit in the dark, less pain for his eyes when he went back out into the dark hallways and the girl's want only shed a small amount of light so he remained unseen. It amused him to see the girl scrounge together a rather healthy snack, by a student's standard, and even by his considering that about 80% of his diet consisted of coffee.

Waycca decided to poke into a few more cabinets before declaring her mission accomplished. She nudged open a large cabinet with her foot and peered inside. A soft snort escaped from her when she saw that it consisted of rows and rows of stringed beans. Yeah, right. The brunette slowly backed out of the pantry, kicking it closed again as she did so.

"Good work," she muttered to herself as she made her way carefully toward the exit. "Your stomach will soon be full and the string bean population is safe." She was halfway across the room when she caught a glimpse of something in the corner of her eye. Her muscles tensed slightly as she swiveled to face whatever it was.

A sharp gasp sounded and her wand clattered to the floor in her astonishment at seeing none other than the Muggle Studies professor crouched in the corner. She stumbled a bit, trying to grab her wand again while still keeping hold of her loot. "P-professor!" she managed weakly, cheeks heating up considerably. "Dean, right?"

"You are not a very effective thief Miss Louise, you make a lot of noise," Dean commented taking a sip of his drink, the caffeine in it giving him an energy jolt.

"Did you miss dinner? Or are you just craving a late night snack?" He remembered his housemates sneaking down to the kitchens in the middle of the night for no other reason than they wanted to munch on something.

Waycca stared at him for a moment, indignation flaring up inside her. "I-what?" She'd expected a detention, and now he was criticizing her thievery?

But he didn't seem to require a response. He just kept talking and drinking that coffee - how had she not noticed that smell before? She forced herself to focus on the current conversation, though her brain was still buzzing with adrenaline after that scare. "I missed most of dinner," she corrected him, gaining a bit of her composure again. "And what about you, 'sir'? You just lying in wait to give hungry students the willies?" She finally got hold of her wand and shoved it into her sock, deciding it easier to keep up with that way.

Dean snorted, "Even if that was my plan, it would never stop students from raiding the kitchens."

"If you missed dinner then just sit down and eat, that way you won't get crumbs where they don't need to be," He honestly believed that the kitchens should be made available in the off chance a student missed dinner. It wasn't fair to make them go to bed hungry, but it also wasn't fair to the house elves to have students stealing their hard work just because they got the munchies.

He drained the rest of his drink and frowned at the bottom of his mug, then he got to his feet and started making himself a second cup.

Waycca's eyebrows drew together as he invited her to simply eat in the kitchen. Of course, it made sense when you said it out loud. "What if I like being sneaky?" she mumbled under her breath, but pulled a stool up to the island nonetheless. She dumped her findings on the countertop and pulled the bag of apple chips toward her.

Her gaze followed him as he set to work on yet another cup of coffee. She estimated that it was probably his twelve-hundredth since noon. "You must put some kind of magical mist in your coffee or something. Because it tastes like dirt to me. No, correction - dirt mixed with just a dash of funeral ashes," she conceded, popping a dried apple piece into her mouth. It was still incredibly dim, considering the bottom of her sweatpants were covering the light of her wand, but she could make out his general shape anyway.

"That's because its bitter, I was probably five when I had my first taste and I thought the same thing, then my dad put ten teaspoons of sugar and little bit of cream into it and it was the best thing I'd ever had," He watched as the amber liquid mixed with the skim milk.

"As I got older I got used to the taste and eventually I was drinking it black," He turned and grinned, "Besides, this isn't coffee, its a cappuccino. Stronger coffee, but not as much and it usually is made with skim milk and vanilla."

Waycca peered up at him over her mountain of snacks, an eyebrow reaised. "Hmm. Despite how touching your 'History of The Relationship of Dean and Coffee' is, I'm gonna stick to milkshakes." She bit her lip and added, as an after thought: "Okay, I had this one, like, iced coffee? It was a couple years ago. It was good, at least."

She sat back in her chair and considered him for a moment. "So that was your goal in trooping down here, huh? A cappuccino?" Her fingers set to absentmindedly picking the skin off the peach she'd nabbed. "I think I'd rather it if you were set on spooking the hungry children. It would make you seem mysterious - if a bit creepy."

"Its not my goal to scare the students," he said wrapping his fingers around the handle of his mug, "I would prefer to not appear creepy."

He really didn't want the students thinking any more negatively of him, it was bad enough that he wasn't a trained teacher and he was teaching the subject most loathed by most students.

"The goal was a nice hot drink before I resign myself to a night spent at a desk," he muttered under his breath, "I should have brought my damn bike it would have kept me busy."

"Yeah, you wouldn't be good at it, anyway," she said dismissively, resting her elbows on the counter. "You'd probably chicken out and offer them tips for making disgusting beverages taste like rainbows."

Having finished off the dried apple chips, she crumbled up the packet and moved on to the scone. "Y'know, you strike me as a swimmer kinda guy," she mused. "Or a jogger. Can't really see you scoring touchdowns - wait, that's a thing, right?" She still wasn't clear on some of the muggle sports, though they did catch her interest even if she didn't want to play them.

"I should take offense to that," Dean shrugged, "But you're probably right."

He took a sip of his drink while she chattered about which athletic area he was best suited for and laughed slightly at the "touchdown" comment.

"A touchdown is how players score in American football," He explained, "I did not do any of that, I've played baseball and European Football since I could walk, and riding motorbikes since I was sixteen."

That was the extent of his extracurricular activities, he hadn't really liked baseball, but football had been fun.

Waycca straightened a bit at the mention of motorbikes. "Like...with actual wheels and everything, yeah?" she said, eyes widening fractionally. "Hmm. My image of you feels a bit skewed now. I had you pegged for quiet summer days drinking coffee and going to workaholic rehabilitation. I'll have to rethink that." Well, he was a mechanic after all. She supposed it was to be expected he'd know how to ride the things he'd be fixing. "Darn. Now you seem all semi-interesting."

Dean chuckled, "I really should be offended now, I'll have you know I raced motorbikes as well during my summer vacations."

"I apologize for correcting your mislead assumption of me," he commented dryly, "But what in Merlin's name gave you the idea that I'm a workaholic?" Yes, he loved being a mechanic, yes he spent more time than necessary in the shop but it as better to have a job you loved than one would you do anything to get away from.

Waycca shrugged, brushing a few stray crumbs from her chin. "I dunno. I generally think that about most teachers I don't know well. Maybe that's wrong, but workaholic until proven fun, right?" Yes, her assumptions were incredibly flawed, but she sure had a lot of them. "I've obviously been wrong about you so far. It's a learning experience and all that jazz is all. Besides, I'm sleepy and half the crap I say doesn't mean a thing."

She narrowed her eyes a bit, scrutinizing him. "When'd you decide to have that kind of facial hair?"

He raised a hand to his small amount of facial hair, "any more and with my luck it would get caught in an engine," he actually didn't have a suitable answer, he couldn't remember when he had first decided on the look or when he had decided to keep it.

"You ask a lot of questions," he commented, "Why the hell aren't you like this in class?'

Waycca grinned, though she tried to stave that off by biting her lip. His question reminded her that he was, in fact, a teacher, and not just some dude to chat with when she was snacking. "I dunno. A hungry stomach makes an open mouth? Or something," she mused, not sure at all if that was an actual phrase but figuring it fit anyway. "It's not like you talk about facial hair and motorbikes in class - though I have a feeling we'll be getting to that somewhere in the year, considering your profession."

She opened the bag of chocolate chips, deciding to save the peach for last.. She took out one and popped it in her mouth before tilting the bag toward him as an afterthought. "Um...you want one?"

"No thanks," he shook his head, "I'm not big on sweets."

"We'll be looking at cars, not motorbikes," he commented, "And not till closer to the end of the year. They're complicated machines and its easier to understand when you understand some of the other machines."

"You know, If you told me what you wanted to learn about, I could probably find a way to fit it in."

Waycca nodded, suppressing a yawn as she pulled the chocolate back toward her. She put a second one in her mouth and let it melt on her tongue as she listened to him speak.

"Could we talk about computers, then? I refuse to believe there is not an inkling of magic in those things since my aunt spends like six hours a day on ours," she conceded. "And the music players. Like the phonograph or the...boop box, did you call it?"

"Boom box," he corrected, "And I swear there's no magic in a computer, maybe an addictive website or two, but no magic."

This was good, interest in anything was muggle was good. He had the proof of how far they had come sitting in his classroom and he had a hard time dealing with people who thought they were cavemen.

He grinned at her yawn, "You seem tired, maybe you should put the chocolate away and head up to bed."

Waycca eyed him and let a quiet scoff escape her at his suggestion. "Mm-hm. Try and lecture me about the importance of rest, Mr. Caffeine," she snorted.

The Gryffindor stood, wrapping up the bag and replacing it where she'd originally found it. It wouldn't do to eat all of them, and the house elves were probably planning to make something scrumptious with the chocolate anyway. She leaned against the counter, sinking her teeth into the peach at last. "Mmm. But, yeah, I'll go to bed soon. Besides, I'd already be up there if you hadn't stopped me, sir," she said, putting special emphasis on the last word. "Seriously, once you get past all the stuff you teachers know you actually start to seem like people."

"Did you want to sleep on a bed of crumbs?" he asked, "And hey, my blood is practically made of caffeine, I cant sleep with out it."

Dean winced at her use of the word sir, "I hate that word," he muttered, "makes me feel old."

Waycca nearly laughed aloud when he mentioned his hatred of 'sir'. "Really, now? You've got a kickass 'stache and you ride motorbikes," she sighed, shaking her head. "It's not like you look young. Might have some gray nose hairs, but I don't see any out here. Anyway, isn't it supposed to be, like, a sign of respect or something? Though I don't reckon I'ld like being called 'madam' or even really 'miss'."

She hummed lightly to herself as she peered down at the peach, having caught a glimpse of the pit already. "Record time," she muttered to herself.

Dean honestly had no response for the nose hair comment, he couldn't believe the girl had the audacity to make the comment in the first place.

"Glad to hear my appearance meets with my age," he said sarcastically, the girl really had a mouth on her, he wondered if she was always like this or just when she was tired.

"really," he muttered under his breath, "Im not even thirty yet and these kids make me feel like i'm sixty."

((Oh. I meant to say 'it's not like you DON'T look young'. But...um. Yeah. Let's go with the offensive path. Crap.))

Waycca drowsily rubbed her eye and smirked up at him. "Hey, man, no one's calling you 'gramps' or anything yet! I'd call that an accomplishment. She finished up the fruit and took the pit, tossing it into a wastebasket by her ankles.

She yawned again. The girl squinted at him through the dim light. "But seriously. You don't seem half way to sixty, even. Hair doesn't even seem dyed." She trailed off, letting her gaze fall towards the floor. "Ah, but I'm gonna start rambling if I don't quit soon. Sorry. I'd like to say I'm not always like this but...I'd be lying. Probably. I'm gonna hope you don't give me any punishment later for the crap I say here." Her thoughts were rather scattered for the moment. She supposed she was somewhat outspoken in her normal state, but perhaps not to this extent and definitely not to a professor.