hasperkynipples | [starfleet] In which Dean is in a completely unexpected situation.

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[starfleet] In which Dean is in a completely unexpected situation.

For the record, Dean wanted it to be known that he was really bad at this.

Even when he was human, his social skills were mediocre at best, but now that he was an angel, they'd really gone down the tubes. Which was somewhat daunting when knowing that he had the potential of meeting a sixteen year-old kid who wasn't even in his own time period. He wasn't even sure how this had happened. All he knew was that genetically speaking, he was this kid's father, whether it was through accident, intention or stupidity, and he wanted to be there. In some way. Some how.

He didn't know how, but he had a feeling that there was something there.

Besides, he couldn't have dragged himself out of this even if he wanted to at this point. He'd already dug himself in deep enough that he was attached at this point, he hadn't even met the kid yet. The Irrational Protect Reflex had already kicked in, and that meant Dean was already too far gone to be fixed.

Now he just had to wait for the kid to come to him.

That was starting to be a little harder than he thought.

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"Sure," she said with a nod, before closing her eyes and concentrating.

Hers response was different from Dean's. While archangels were all thunder and lighting, meant to impress and intimidate rather than comfort, seraphim were built a little differently. There was still noise, like wind chimes on the wind, and her feathers were rounded, the light bouncing off them like the light hitting the dusty gold pipes of an organ.

He reaches out, because clearly looking requires hands and eyes as well as nose. But he stops himself. He doesn't like people touching him without permission. So he has to get that permssion befor touching someone else. "May I?"

"Go for it," she nodded, opening her eyes a bit to watch him. She was always curious as to how different people reacted to her wings. A lot of her charges had a bit of child-like nature to them, but there always seemed to be a bit more amazement than when they were looking at the rest of the world.

He reached out with careful fingers, this time knowing not to expecting the physical contact of his fingers against a surface. But still the feel was softer that Dean's. More like a warm blanked than the heat of a fire. He shivered. "You're different than Dean." He had sort of expected the basics to be the same, but they weren't.

"Seraphim are different from archangels. Archangels are meant to be warriors, to protect the prophets and convey God's wrath upon the people, to fight His wars. Seraphim, which is what I am, are meant for worship. To serve God through prayer and song."

He rolls that over in his head. "So as a whole you're. . ."" he paused thinking of the right words. "More like a governing body than just an army."

"Exactly. If necessary, we can all be soldiers, but that isn't our sole purpose."

"Starfleet over Manticore." He's quiet for a second. "Okay, we can go get milk shakes." Nothing about her made him feel like he was in danger. Not that he thought her harmless. She wasn't he could tell, but still, he felt safe enough.

"One little catch, though," she said with a nod, before extending a hand out to him. "You have to hold my hand."

He pulled back a little. "Why?" Was this a conditional thing. Something he had to give in order to get. Or was it purely somehow the mechanice of traveling.

"Travel works by touch. I can only bring with me the things I'm in contact with."

He bit his lip, and considered. After a minute he held his hand out but it was pretty clear that the whole touching thing wasn't his idea of a good time.

"Don't worry," she said, wrapping her fingers around his loosely. "It'll be quick."

And the next minute they were off the roof and standing outside a diner in a small town that was a little bit colder than the town they'd previously been in. She let his hand go as soon as they landed, before sliding her hands in her pockets. "See?"

He pulled his hand back to himself. "Thanks." For both the breifness of the contact and the ride. He looked around in a bit of wonder. He sniffed. "This really is East Coast-ish."

"Yeah, it is," she nodded, before starting to head towards the door. "I love being out here in the winter."

He looked around at the first signs of spring, but yeah, he could like winter here. He'd never gotten to actualy play in the snow, just for the shear joy of it and he sort of desperately wanted to. But he didn't yet know this woman well enough to share things like that with her. "I like how it smells so different."

"That's the magic of the world," she said with a nod. "No place is like anywhere else. Just like no person is like anyone else."

"We're all special snowflakes." Though he didn't disagree.

She laughed. "In our own way, I suppose."

He grinned. "Milk shake?" He opened the door. So why is Dean afraid you're going to break me?"

She rolled her eyes. "He's not. I'm just the bratty younger sister who gets to be a pain in the neck all the time. I like to get on his case."

"My younger sister could kick my ass. And she got on my case."

"I also have a habit of speaking his mind for him."

"He doesn't do that on his own?" That seemed odd. Alec was surrounded but people that just blurted out what was on their mind. Except Spock. He was factual and ever so slightly sarcastic. Even in Manticore he had a reputation for speaking out of turn.

"Human emotions are complicated. Dean doesn't like asking for things he isn't sure he should have. And sometimes, he can't exactly verbalize what he needs."

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