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You come on. [ That doesn't make sense, but like his comebacks are any better half the time. She's still laughing. ] Some of my best friends are geeks!

[ Like the aforementioned Mr Tozier and co. They aren't called the Losers Club for nothing! And she wears that badge with pride; that, and the tease he tosses her way about her romantic scheming. Was it all an accident? No, she can't say that. The dates were specific, incredibly deliberate, and the gangster museum being on the same street as an album cover photo was one stroke of luck in a hundred strokes of luck that led them to where they are now.

But, yeah, okay. When he puts it like that... Well, he can't see her blushing over a phone call. ]

Hey, don't make it sound like I'm some kind of romcom mastermind! You're an open book when it comes to the stuff you love. [ And she was keen on reading and memorising every line. ] And it seemed like, I don't know — every time we spoke you were coming off of some crazy case — [ like now ] — so I wanted to take your mind off things for a while. [ She chuckles. ] I just didn't think sleeping together would come before the dates.

[ As if she minded. She very much did not mind at all. ]

I did knock it outta the park with those Fiddler tickets, though, didn't I? Talk about a moment.

( it doesn't make sense, but it does spur his laughter on, so surely it counts for something. he can barely focus on what's left of his burger, distracted by the warmth of her voice and the memories it unearths: bundled up in the crisp new york air, bev tucked up next to him, her arm linked with his as she toured him around the city with him in mind for each destination; the specific memory of feeling seen bubbling to the surface, even before they ever sealed the deal.

how the hell did he get this lucky? maybe the losers really do exude lucky seven energy. )

You did great, babe. Probably the most relaxed I'd ever been, which is saying something. ( second only to her surprise visit to the bunker (a whole week of bev to himself does wonders for all the tension in his life). if he's honest, he's starting to realize any time he gets to spend with bev automatically relaxes him.

he can only vaguely remember mentioning fiddler to her, or maybe sam had behind his back, but either way ... talk about a moment indeed. ) Honestly never thought you'd get my ass in a Broadway theatre, but who the hell can say no to Fiddler? Better put wooing on your resume, Bev. I think you outclassed me that weekend. And, gotta say, that's pretty damn impressive.

[ She feels the same way: the stress of her life melting away the second they're back in each others' arms. It's why she went to the bunker, why they call each other at the end of long, hard days. It's not about making it disappear, really, but being together makes her feel a little more capable of taking everything else head on. She feels similarly with the Losers, bolstered by their good humour and the bonds they forged in blood. (Literally.) But Dean just gets under her skin in a way that's new and different.

She's definitely blushing now if she wasn't before, warmed and pleased by the compliment, and maybe he can hear it in the breathy way she laughs, almost like she's embarrassed as well as delighted. ]

Yeah, well, like I said — I didn't really have to try. [ Maybe he doesn't remember yet, but: ] I didn't think I'd get your ass in one either! That's why it wasn't on my list. But we walked past the marquee on our way to Pie Face and you got this look on your face, so I said, "I didn't know you liked Fiddler," and you were like, "You mean the greatest musical of our time?" [ She's not Richie. This impression of Dean Winchester isn't great. But it's not bad, either. ] "C'mon, I have some class!"

[ She laughs. ]

I literally texted my friend about comps like two seconds later.

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