𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖘 || 𝘥. 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳

𝟎𝟎𝟒 ⌖ monkey bars

jericho, california
oct. 31, 2005 // midday

"𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖, 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 spend my money, you should at least buy something nice."

Fitz scratched her brow with one hand, tugging at the zipper of the cheap brown jacket with the other. "It is nice. Look." Her hand went down to point at the stitched decal on her left breast. "It's got Winnie the Pooh on it." She glanced up at Dean's unconvinced face. "I could've paid for it myself. With real money, no less."

Dean's hands were shoved in the pockets of his jacket, head facing forward. "Yeah, but I don't wanna hear shit about broken stitches anymore." Fitz was on the inside, window-shopping as they strolled downtown, with Sam checking out cars parked by the sidewalk. "Or your busted lip, or anything like that."

"So this is an apology?"

"No. This is me saying I don't wanna hear about it anymore."

"Works for me." Fitz swayed her head from side to side, eyes lingering on the diner they just passed by. "For what it's worth, this is better than an apology. I mean, look at him." She thumbed at the yellow bear with a honey jar and a polite smile. "He's so happy."

"You like Winnie the Pooh?" Sam inquired, leaning forward to get a look at her.

"Nah. He's Jess' favorite." Fitz gave the bear a fond look. "I was always more of an Eeyore girl." Dean's brows jumped like she'd confirmed his suspicions. "I think I'm gonna give this to her once we get back." Her eyes found Sam's. "Or maybe you could. As an apology for ditching her."

Sam frowned: was this an accusation or a genuine piece of advice? "You ditched her, too," he said, in the same ambiguous tone.

"Yeah, but she expects that from me," Fitz said, her grin turning rueful as she ran a hand through her dark hair. "You're better than that."

Sam chewed on the inside of his cheek, feeling that warmth in his chest again. Approval. Jessica's parents hadn't approved of him, according to her. He thought they'd been very nice, but after that first dinner, she'd told him they didn't trust a man without a family.

Fortunately, Fitz seemed to know Jess better than her parents did — they gave Jess a Piglet stuffed animal for her ninth birthday — and she seemed to like him, in spite of what they were doing right now.

"Thanks," Sam managed to say, barely louder than a breath.

"Jeez, sappy much?" Dean clapped Sam on the back. "While you two're getting all chick-flicky on me, I found our girl." He lifted a finger to point at a woman approaching the theater, a stack of bright pink papers bundled in her arms.

"Wow. Good eye." The way Fitz said it made it sound like Dean had commented on how the sky was blue.

Sam felt the comforting sensation dull out as they approached her, who was determinedly pinning a Missing poster to a scale-patterned pillar beneath the cinema overhang.

"Can you let me handle this one?" Fitz said to Dean under her breath. He turned to look at her, finally, and she proffered that sheepish, do-me-a-favor smile. "Pulling my weight 'n all that."

It worked once back in Palo Alto, but not here. Dean plastered on a polite grin of his own. "You must be Amy."

"Yeah," she said demurely, still flattening the poster onto the wall, not even sparing them a glance.