Breathe

The small cafe was packed, as the two entered. She sighed, glancing over at the waiter at the bar.

"I'll be right back," She grinned to Jensen, walking the short distance over to the almost crowded bar. Pushing her way through, she smiled at the man behind the counter. "What's up Jimmy? Got anything open? Or virtually private?"

"Rachel, Rachel, Rachel. Haven't seen you in awhile. What's been up?"

She rolled her eyes, ready for the constant flirting she received from Jimmy.

"I've been working, dollface. You know I got to put bread on the table."

"You know I'd put bread on your table any day you'd like," He responded.

She giggled, letting a fake blush set in.

"I know you could, Jimmy. But could you just get me a table now? Me and a co-worker are kinda hungry."

He nodded his head up, and she motioned to Jensen, following the blonde man up the stairs.

"I'll be back in a minute, 'kay?" She nodded, as she sat in the wooden chair, leaning back to enjoy the sunlight from the open deck. She stretched gracefully, almost like a cat taking a nap in the sun.

"Neat tattoos."

She grinned, pulling the hem of her shirt back down. "You like the ink?" She questioned, eyebrow raised.

"I think something like that is tasteful."

She smiled.

"Yeah. Mom wasn't too happy. But when she found out I put names in all of them, she didn't really care. Thing is the script is really small, so you can barely read.."

"Who's names?"

"My sister in the big one, my mom and dad in the other two."

She got up, pulling her shirt up once more so he could have a better look. His fingers were so cold against the warmth of her hip bone and lower back.

"There's a date in one of them?"

"My dad. He died a couple years back."

"I'm sorry," He muttered, giving a greiving smile.

She grinned brightly back at him.

"It's fine. Strange to say, but I'm really okay with it. I said my goodbyes. I think everything was at peace."
She was sitting now, a cup of coffee ordered from Jimmy steaming in her hands.

"I don't know what I would do." She laughed lightly at his remark.

"I thought the same thing. And to tell the truth I was angry for the longest time."

"Are you angry about your sister?"

She choked down the swallow of the liquid, feeling the tinge of it burning.

"I am. Really, I wish I could do something more. I mean, she's my little sister, you know? She's got so much ahead of her. She's only twenty. I mean, she won't even get a chance to experience alot. I wish, sometimes, that I could trade places with her. So she could have the time."

"How long?"

She didn't seem bothered by the question, in fact she answered it tenderly. He was actually expecting another yelling fest. But perhaps that only happened when she had alcohol.

"They're giving her about two years, max. They've started treatments, but nothing's really worked so far. It's just slowing the cancer down. It's slowing her down."

"I don't know why you couldn't tell me before."

"I didn't see the need. I don't like people to pity me. I don't like it when I'm receiving sympathy out of the wazoo. I'm the kind of person that just rolls with the punches. I don't stop to think about them."

It was silent. They sat at the table, beverages in hand. The clattering and ringing of utensils echoed up the lonesome stairs, as did the chatter of random conversations.

"The only thing that keeps me sane is coming to set. I can get my mind off everything. I know it sounds bad not to think of her, but.."

"My tralier is open anytime you want to get piss ass drunk."

She smiled, glancing down at the black t-shirt she acquired.

"Maybe I should just throw some of my clothes in there," She laughed, "Don't want people getting the wrong idea."

"You always give people the wrong idea."

She grinned, throwing a packet of sugar at him, squarely hitting his chest.

"Except then. I actually thought you were going to resort to violence."

"So you can read my mind now?"

He shrugged, his facial expression giving a 'yes' as an answer.

"Well, tell me what I'm thinking," She replied smugly, lying back in her chair, waiting on his answer.

"I'm imagining you're thinking to act rashly and do something you never thought you'd do before."

"And what would that be, Ackles?" She asked, confused at his judgement.

"You want to go back to last night."

"I thought you said-"

"You only asked about one thing," He replied, a smirk tugging on his lips.

She jumped up from her side of the round table, smiling as she cornered him, getting right in his face.

"You tell me right now, Mister. I'm threatening to dump all my coffee in your lap."

"That's kind of hard when you're in it."

She rolled her eyes, grabbing the round mug.

"Tell me, am I a sloppy kisser drunk?"

He shrugged, his face in total questioning.

"I do believe there's only one way to find out."

"You are the sneaky one, Ackles," She whispered, her hands slipping away from the cup's handle as they latched onto his perfectly angeled jawbone.

If anything, the two were both in awe as she pulled away, finally breathing a hint of air.

"The coffee does taste better than the Smirnoff."