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"I'm pretty sure there are several things I'd like you better as."

She'd said as much hadn't she.
Even if in far more honest words than needed.
Maybe even far more fucked up ones, but far more honest, too.

"My Pizza Boy would a really boring front runner against those."

"While getting pizza delivered right to where you're sitting is good, I can think of more fun things to do, yeah," Gabriel agrees. "Assuming you're done eating, anyway."

There's exactly three slices of pizza missing, and one of those was eaten by him.

Jo didn't look at the pizza. She actually didn't look away from him at all.

"And assuming you've decided I'm not too drunk to have a clue about my own mind."

"You see me taking your buzz away?" he asks with raised eyebrows. "Not that I'd be clearing all of it out of your system if I was."

She can pretend that maybe that isn't part of what helps. The last piece of pizza in her hands vanishes into it's last few bites, and her fingers are still hooked around a glass neck, but she has for all intents and purposes stop needing or using it. One of those two, whichever it was, when she simply add to it, faint twist of a smile, that is both a warning and nothing truly like sharp.

"And not if you wanted to be touching any other part of me."

"Behaving myself helps with that, yeah," Gabriel agrees. He has no plans to annoy her right now. Nope, nuh-uh. Counterproductive. To say the least.

Right, time to change the subject a little. "Saving the rest of that for later, then?"

If that makes her smile a little wider, maybe it's only like just barely knowing where the reins of anything on this in. But in so many words, okay. It makes a flush of warmth get nebulously everywhere under the alcohol. She almost wants to just send off on it, and ask if he means the vodka, the pizza, or him. But she doesn't. For as much as her words stay zippy, she could forget them if she had to. Maybe even wants to.

"Are you trying to say this doesn't look like the breakfast of champions just waiting for tomorrow morning, or three or four am, to exist at it?"

"Well, breakfast and a snack, unless you plan to eat all five pieces at once," he points out with a grin. Five pieces at once tend to be a bit much for someone who isn't Moose-sized. Or an angel.

"God forbid, I try to insinuate I might be nice enough to share at that point."

As though she wasn't at all now, or hadn't been doing just that already. Like it was something she might decide to grant at some point after this, and other things. Charity. Kindness. Good Will. A little common, human, decency. Or the ruse of them under the actions of physiology. Even if she didn't always have it in spades for everyone else. Something along those lines.

Jo reached for the cap left and screwed it back on the Vodka bottle, since nothing was getting left here after being bought.

"It's not like I actually need to eat. I just like doing it," he says in a philosophical tone as he watches her cap her drink. Looks like she's getting ready to leave, so he tugs the pizza box a little closer to himself so he could get it closed. May as well make himself useful.

Besides the usefulness he already was in the form of bringing the pizza to her.

"Pretty sure that goes for all of this," Jo said, pushing back her chair. Standing.
What. Maybe she skirted making certain points blatant. But call him on his? Nope.

Just because she woudln't ask the questions floating in her head didn't mean they weren't there.

"Want me to carry the pizza so you can carry your drink?" he asks, pretending to miss all the undercurrents.

Standing up catches up with her. A few seconds late, the way it does. A flood of warmth and a suddenly skitter, just enough, to the room all around her. Making it momentarily fluid at all of the edges, but they come back to where they should be. Even with a life spent persistently adjusting her tolerance level further and further back, it's not like being her size and having had as much as she had wouldn't have some effect.

"You did bring it." He gets a smirk, as she slides her chair back in, and heads across the floor for the door.

Gabriel sees that little wobble and gets ready to give her an assist with staying upright if needed. Then it turns out she doesn't need it so he picks up the pizza box to take along as he follows her out to her current motel room. "Yep, I did."

The world swings a little as she walks, but not in unmanageable way, or even an unrecognisable normal way, even if it might not be normal as such to most of the world, and at least it's on the inside and not the outside. Not like the smile that tugs at her mouth when he really is just following along behind her, for walking out of that place and out into the night, black, faint chill of another of the million parking lots of the world.

"So are we walking or -- ?"

"I think flying might disagree with you right now, considering it often makes humans twitch under more sober circumstances," he points out with a small grin. "Walking it is."

Since, you know. He would rather she not throw up on him. That would put a damper on things.

She'd appreciate that, if she thought it through much. They already went over much of it. So Jo just shrugs, because she'd be walking if he wasn't here and it was any other night. "It's only a street over, so it's not even like you really have to get that much exercise."

The bottle shifted hands, and she dug in her pocket to get the key up from the other things shoved in it.

"Oh no. Exercise. Whatever will I do?" he deadpans as he walks along with her. Not that the amount of exercise he does or does not get does anything about the shape he's in. The condition of his body is the same as when he first moved in and will always be that way. The only thing that's changed over the centuries is his haircut.

"Oh, shut up." Jo was looking over her shoulder, smiling.
"Some of us actually have to put effort into this life."

"Really? I thought hunters get all the exercise they need while hunting monsters," he says with a straight face.

"No," she laughs, and bumps into his arm, on purpose, even if it makes things skitter a little. "You don't."

Even if it was more true than false. There was a type that stayed here, and there was a type that didn't, and usually that at least started on level with still able to run for your life if and when needed. But it wasn't like any of them found time for a gym. The grace of god, a few good bar fighters, and training where and when you were even lucky to get it, and Jo knew she'd been lucky with the exposure she got growing up. Because it wasn't out here on the empty road.

"No, I don't," he concedes, shifting his grip on the pizza box somewhat. "That does seem to be when most of the exercise happens though."

"It's a whole brand new way for people to get in their steps while saying oh God, oh God." What. She watches terrible, late night, tv like the rest of the world. There's only so much to do in defunct little towns. Even blood-sopped up Pleasantville's, and they weren't all this. Boring and closed up before dinners should ever.

"This is me." Jo said, with a mock flourish at the door with a crooked metal 6 where the second nail had escaped.

It's a turn of keys and she pushing the door open, on the dark room, and flipping a switch.

Edited 2016-04-27 04:29 (UTC)

This time, the use of his father's name just gets rolled eyes before he steps in and takes a quick glance around the room to check for the fridge. "Last chance for more pizza before I shove the lot into the fridge to get all cold."

It's tragic. She shouldn't love doing that. But she does. It might even be a bit amusingly terrible. She closes the door behind Gabriel coming in, back against it, when she can't help a small laugh. She doesn't stay there. Trailing across the room toward him.

"Stop talking about the pizza. Seriously. The only person not done with the pizza right now is you."

The only thoughts Jo had about the pizza and the pizza box was that it was currently taking up two feet of space that she might have a better idea for the use of if it weren't currently where it was. Which shouldn't be so easy to think, with the door closed and the world cut off, but somehow it is.

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