han_solo | (no subject)

(no subject)

Early morning after the first meeting, after she's said to him stay safe and Dean could think of nothing better to do than to leave, walk right out and pretend he didn't hear a goddamn thing.

He stops outside, at one of the tables on the footpath, just to sit and gather himself for a moment. Merlin, after all these years, and he's walked right into her.

Of all the gin joints in all the wizarding towns in all the world, and so on.

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And who should go walking by, but Joanna Harvelle's best friend in all the world, on his way to demand a Best Friend Breakfast?

Why, that would be the very man who cured this very man of an unfortunate curse, but was never properly introduced.

One thing Sokka is not? Is blind. He recognizes Dean the moment his eyes pass over him. Still in Hogsmeade. Not far from the Three Broomsticks.

Jo might kill him, but she's been threatening that for years anyway. Sokka makes a beeline for him.

Of course, by the time he's approched, Dean's face is expressionless, hands loose on the table.

"Can I help you?"

Not the politest of ways to greet the man who cured you of an embarrassing ailment, but - well, it was embarrassing.

Yup. Eyebrow lift.

"Truly, I am overwhelmed by the force of your gratitude."

Oh, look. An open chair at Dean's table. How useful.

It squeaks when Sokka pulls it back, and again when he drops into it, arms crossed and frowning. "No, really. Stop. It's embarrassing."

Dean smiles, a curl of tight, thin lips.

"I appreciate that you're good at your job," he says, so polite. "Thank you for doing it."

It's not quite veiled insult. ... because the veil is pretty damn see-through, when it comes to a tone of voice like that.

"Oh, you're very welcome."

In the way where Sokka is still frowning at him. Arms crossed. Because he is totally intimidating this way, he's certain.

"Interesting predicament you found yourself in."

"Sometimes that happens," Dean agrees obligingly. "When you work in the real world."

And not a teacher at a safe, snug little school full of rich British kids.

...which is something so odd to say of a teacher of Hogwarts.

Sokka lifts an eyebrow again, more confused than insulted at first. Though it does shift quite quickly back to insulted.

"Yes, Jo's said. I suppose she was charitable enough to share that information with you."

Because Dean does not work in the real world with Jo.
Also, he is charity.
Fact.

Charity he doesn't care about. Mention of Jo, so casual -

He's gonna have to get used to this.

"Perhaps she was. I've hardly spoken to her in years, but - perhaps she was."

Blandest smile.

"I wouldn't know, you see."

Bland smile.

"Seeing as she's never mentioned you before."

Dean smiles, wide and flat. "Of course not," he says sweetly. "She's well trained in keeping important things secret from civilians."

"Yes," Sokka replies, immediate - his bland smile a little wider. A little smugger. "She is."

There are bottles in his possession with etched dolphins in the base.

He is not a civilian, and they are both aware of it.

Dean? Is not.

Dean inclines his head. It's true, she is.

"Your name's Sokka." It's not really a question. He has heard of him.

"Professor Sokka Aquam."

A hand is offered. Smiling. Perfectly friendly, really.

Dean looks at the hand as if it's a toad. Dislike flickering over his face, there-and-gone-again. Then he accepts it, handshake as blandly polite as his smile.

"Dean Winchester. Pleasure."

"All mine."

Or Dean's. Whichever.

It should be noted, that despite the pissing contest, Sokka does not even vaguely attempt to crush Winchester's hand. Just a hand, a common shake of the hand. Very polite.

And a blindingly cheerful smile at the waitress who approaches. "Oh Professor! Spot of tea for you?"

"Please, Maddie," he replies with a grin. "Scones, as well, and whatever my friend here would like, if you could, please."

Dean very carefully didn't say whose the pleasure was. Because he doesn't get the impression there's any pleasure anywhere about this.

Polite handshakes. Not overly aggressive. Not rude. Just ... polite.

"Nothing for me, thank you." He gives the waitress, who's innocent enough in this, a warm smile. "I'd best be on my way. No pressing reason to wait around here."

"Oh please," Sokka says, still smiling cheerfully. "Stay and have a cup. We should get to know one another better, don't you think?"

If he's going to show up at meetings.

If he's going to give everyone news.

If he's going to sit in Hogsmeade like he belongs.

(if he ever, ever made his Josephine cry)

Dean glances at the waitress and nods, smiling pleasantly. "Well, then, sure, I guess. Coffee for me."

But the look he gives Sokka, once the waitress has turned away, is ... not friendly.

Sokka?

Smiles.

The picture of polite behavior.

"Meeting's been over a good twelve hours, Mr Winchester."

"Yes," Dean agrees, pleasant enough. "You can count time, too?"

... not that pleasant really.

"I have a watch and everything!"

The. Most. Cheerful.

"Perhaps you're in need of one. Or map of some sort. With directions home."

Dean smiles at him, pleasantly. "You want me to leave? That's sad for you."

He's very sorry about it. Really.

"Well, it doesn't really matter what I want," Sokka points out, tipping his head to the side. Nose slightly wrinkled.

This is more true than he'd like it to be.

"I don't run the meetings, you see. The content of them, those invited... the location. I don't get to control any of those things."

Dean smiles happily at him.

"For which I'm sure we're all very sorry."

Of course.

Sokka beams back, smiling just as happily.

"Oh, that's quite all right. It's easier to take when I remember no one else has that power either. No one at this table, anyway."

"Are you trying to threaten me?" Dean asks, sweetly. "What is this about? I'm sorry, I'm very confused about your motives, Professor."

"Oh! Terribly sorry."

Beaming.

"I'll be more clear. Wouldn't want to confuse you."

Brightest smile.

"On a professional level, it has nothing to do with whether or not I want you there. On a professional level, I suppose you'll always be there because your work allows you to be, in some way or another I really don't care about. On a personal level, I know - and I suspect you know as well - that if you blink the wrong way at my Jo, she'll do something dreadful and uncouth to your manhood and then kick you out of her bar for the rest of your days."

Not a muscle moves in Dean's face.

He would have smiled. Would have been fond, even. Because she will, and God, Dean's missed her so much.

But...

"Your Jo?"

Well, now. That has very little to do with what he said.

For a moment, Sokka only blinks at him, frowning slightly. "Yes. Of course."

Even more of a frown. Almost angry as he stares at him. "She must have told you about us."

Him and Leah and the family they made with each other.

"Jo," Dean says, grimly, pushing his chair out from the table and getting to his feet, "belongs to nobody but herself, you bastard."

He is leaving. This is not a situation he is willing to stay in.

Sokka stares.

This is not the reaction he was going for - assuming he'd had a real plan in the first place. Which maybe? He'd sort of had? At some point? When he sat down, anyway.

But it wasn't this.

"Yes. Duh."

Dean looks at him. Disgusted. And then DisApparates.

What kind of asshole comes up to rub it in like that? Jo always talked about that dickhead like he was the sweetest guy alive.

Yeah. Sure.

Downside: Sokka is very confused.

Bright side: He still achieved his goal of Dean going the hell away.

So. He can finish his tea.

And then treat Josephine to brunch, rather than the planned breakfast.

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