Shan frowned a bit, although her face still held a small smile. She felt bad for him. He was absolutely torn up over something. However, he didn't want to talk about it. It was obvious, and she wasn't one to push people into sharing and caring. So, she played his game.
"Merle is harmless. He just wanted to make sure you were okay…Younger guys don't last long around here, and you looked to broken up to be beaten. So…he grabbed you.", she smiled, proud of her brute friend. However, Dean's story wasn't over with. His explaining of where he came from made him seem even more sad. If she knew him a little better…he could just stay…
She shook her head with a frown, and grabbed at the sleeve of his jacket. It was authentic leather, and very old. For a kid like him, it seemed a bit out of place…probably his father's, "I like…", she said simply.
"Me? I just like it here. I like the way the people treat me. They're all good guys, really. Some of them…", she stopped her sentence for a second as a small fight broke out behind them. Giggling she continued, "…have anger issues. Overall, it's a family establishment."
She laughed, but noticed that his smile faded rather quickly. Fun was EXACTLY what he needed. She tossed the bartender a dollar bill, and made a hand gesture, before a song began to play. Grabbing Dean's sleeve again, she pulled him away from the bar, as best she could.
"Everyone does fun. You could use some, and I know you're kinda drunk. C'mon!"
Sam smirked at her calling him 'muscles', and flexed his pecks again as she sat in front of him. He dreaded the pain, but it wasn't as much dread as anticipation. Though, the anticipation never lead anywhere. He dealt with the pain, drank a little whiskey and moved on from wounds. As the bullet came out, he hissed a bit, but stayed pretty quiet, letting out the deep breath he had held in. Thank you wasn't the words he was looking for, though.
He watched her move, watching every bend and muscle in her body with his tongue pressed between his teeth. Every detail caught his eye. Even her jewelry, and the way her hair fell across her shoulders. Sighing, he straightened his back a little and faced her with his head held high. Her dominant stance was hot. The idea in her head that made her think it would work on him…was hotter.
"I had better things to do…", he said simply, placing emphasis on the word 'do', as his hand moved from his own thigh, across the front of hers, and down to the table for support.