We're Just Hell's Neighbors[tag: Dean]END))

"Stating the obvious is my greatest joy," he said with a smirk, leaning forwards to return her kiss with a chaste one against her lips.

Waycca grinned against his lips and longed to deepen the kiss, but she was fairly sure that was frowned upon in public. Instead she brought one of her hands - leaving the other in his grasp - to his cheek, mostly to feel the familiar slight stubble there.

Dean licked his lips as he pulled away, absorbing the lingering taste of her lips, "So, the ball," he adjusted himself so that he rested his forehead against hers.

"What's the plan, oh mischevious one?"

"Hmm," she drawled, letting a long contented sigh escape through her nose. "I reckon we'll have to tell each other what we'll be wearing ahead of time? Or just have a meeting place so we can tell each other our identities. After that we just...dance and stuff, like half-way normal couples do." As if she'd know what being part of a normal couple felt like - any relationships she'd been in before had ended just as quickly as they began.

"What is this normal you speak of," he teased lightly. They really were the complete opposite of normal, which was, by and large the reason they didn't get to enjoy the public displays of affection that most people did. Which was why being able to sit together, even in the grimy pub, was such a rare thing.

"But I agree, that does make the most sense. Though I think I'd rather wait and be surprised by what you choose to wear."

Waycca chuckled, giving one of his hands a light squeeze. "Mm, ditto," she said, nodding as much as she could with her forehead still against his. "I can only imagine what you'll have on - something with a long, flowy skirt perhaps?" A smirk came to her lips at the thought of him in a dress.

She suddenly jerked slightly and plunged a hand into her pocket(which she'd charmed to hold more than it appeared) and pulled out a cardboard box about the size of her head. "It's, uh, your present," she explained, setting the box on the table. "Late, obviously."

Dean stared at the box, "You didn't have to haul this down here," he said, "It could have waited."

His gift was still sitting in the drawer of his bedside table, awaiting delivery.

She shrugged. "It was taking up space in the ol' storage, plus it's not like it weighed anything once I magic'd this cloak to hold it," she replied, sitting back in her seat. "Though I hadn't thought it would be such a dump I'd brought it to." She glanced around the pub in distaste and sighed. "Didn't wrap it or anything, as you can see." A yellow helmet waited to be discovered in the box, hopefully the right kind and fit.

Dean moved the box to the side slightly so he could lean in and place another kiss on her lips, "Thank you," he pulled back grinning, "Yours is going to remain a surprise, at least until after this ball." he needed to present the gift he had gotten her properly.

He sat back in his seat and carefully opened the box to discover the bright yellow motorcycle helmet, he pulled the item out reverently and looked the item over.

"Where did you find this?" he asked, knowing she didn't spend much time in muggle areas.

"All the more suspense then." Waycca nodded and smiled as she watched him open the box. "My aunt dragged me to this Muggle store over the break and I saw it there. Had to tell her it was for a school project." Which really, it was, wasn't it?

"I think it might be used, but I sprayed this stuff on the inside to make sure it didn't have, like, lice on it or anything," she added quickly. Most of her family were revolted by secondhand things, and she hoped he wouldn't have a similar reaction. "And it's yellow because...well, you're a Hufferpuffer and I don't even know if you have a favorite color. What a sign of a stand up girlfriend-figure."

"Its fantastic," he said sincerely, the secondhand nature of the item didn't faze him in the least, since he had grown up with secondhand items and even now he found most secondhand items to be more comfortable than new things.

Waycca grinned widely, glad he didn't seem to hate it. "Good," she said. She picked up her mug and took a sip before remembering how disgusting it'd been and cringed visibly at the taste. Hogs Head's coffee didn't taste any better cold than it did warm.

"Okay, no more of that," Dean said chuckling as he plucked the mug from her grip, leaning over to set it on the table next to them.

"We would have been better off with beer instead of whatever it is they're passing off as coffee."

Waycca nodded, nose still crinkled at the lingering flavor. "I agree," she muttered. "Probably considerably less sober, too, but then we'd have to have more than just one mug for that to happen." She squinted at him slightly and smirked. "It just occurred to me that I've never seen Drunk Dean. I'm sure it's a sight."

"Nobody has seen me drunk, except for a corpse in a casket," he didn't mention that the corpse had been that of his best friend and he had been drowning in grief at the time, "I usually don't get drunk."

"I know I've seen you tipsy," he grinned, "But I've never seen you royally smashed either."

She raised her eyebrows but didn't press the subject. "Well, plenty a soul at Hogwarts has. I actually got pretty hammered after I left your place on New Years. Most of my friends did, though we had to keep an eye on a dear twelve-year-old Jane because we are determined to keep her innocent forever." She remembered the night somewhat vividly, traipsing down to the kitchens with her friends to take the youngest of their group back to her common room. "Pretty sure I damn near fell down the stairs to the tower."

"A twelve-year old?" Dean raised a brow, "You let a second year near alcohol?" then again it didn't surprise him and the students at Hogwarts had a way of getting alcohol when they decided they wanted or needed it. Dean was more surprised that the teachers hadn't figured out that it was happening.

"She didn't have any!" she exclaimed. Of course, Jane had a sip of the tainted punch, but none of her friends had been aware of the tainted fruity drink, and she only got a little before they'd realized what had happened. "She knew not to have any, and I'm pretty sure she thought it was gross anyway."

He grinned, amused, it seemed everyone really had drunk themselves silly on New Years.

"Take it easy sweetheart," He laughed raising his hands in defeat, "I'm sure you were very responsible with your second year friend."

Waycca grinned triumphantly. "Good! Because that is literally my only claim to responsibility," she noted, leaning over and giving him a peck on the temple.

"Your ONLY claim to responsibility?" He repeated with a raised brow and a smirk, "I think I should be worried."

"You should be very worried," she confirmed, cocking her head in thought. "And I think she's eleven, actually. But keeping a first year from being an alcoholic, that's pretty good for being my only responsibility.

"Congratulations," He drawled sarcastically, "You've saved one soul, now can you do for the rest of us?"

He propped one elbow on the table top and looked at her, waiting for the expected retort.

Waycca smirked, a suggestive grin on her lips that she just couldn't help. "Well, I'm sure there's plenty I could do for you in particular, none of which would be acceptable if spoken about aloud, in public," she chuckled, unable to resist voicing the thought and knowing that it probably only added to his view of her being a tease. But who said she was teasing? "For everyone else, they get the honor as living on the same planet as me."

Dean bit back a grin and averted his eyes at her innuendo, "One of these days, that mouth is gonna get you into trouble," He said finally turning back to face her.

He wasn't going to lie and say that the same thought hadn't crossed his mind but to have her voice it, even in the round about way that she had, made him a little jumpy.