Clumsy Slips and Coffee Stains // OPEN

Sam wandered along the street, only half-watching where he was going, concentrating more on the absolutely freezing temperature. He pulled his shirt closer to him, pulling his arms close to try and preserve what warmth remained in his body, but to no real positive result. The icy wind that blew through the streets whipped through his hair, sending it swirling around his face so that he had to move his hands from their warm havens to brush it out of the way, only to be swept back a second later.

Why had they had to come to Europe, anyway? And especially England, renowned for its pitiful weather. Dean hadn't been exatly clear, and now, to top off the day, it was beginning to rain as well. Muttering insulting comments about his brother, Sam continued to wander the streets, dodging both puddles and people until his eyes widened in hope.

COSTA
He read the sign with interest, and noticed the swarm of people entering, and the crowded interior. It would be hot and stuffy, but it would be a lot better than the rain that was beginning to pour down from the sky, thunder booming in the distance. He hurried across the road and inside the café, for that is what it turned out to be, much like Starbucks, he observed.

He turned to join the long queue, but as he pivoted, his converse, lacking grip as they did, slid on a puuddle dripping from someone's umbrella, and he staggered backwards, colliding with someone. He swore under his breath and turned to apologise, cursing himself, his brother, England and anthing or anyone else he could think of as he saw the coffee stains blossoming on the person's top.
"I'm so sorry!" he apologised profusely.

Abby Sciuto lived and breathed caffeine. Had she been told that she could only have one drink for the rest of her life, she would happily live off Caf-Pow for the rest of her life. Her addiction to (and reliance on) caffeine probably wasn't the healthiest thing in the world, but Abby didn't care. Nothing else could get her through double-shifts and still give her enough energy to go out and party down when it was all over. She needed caffeine like a normal person needed air.

However despite this addiction, Abby was incredibly selective of what forms of caffeine she imbibed. While everyone at Scotland Yard drunk coffee to stay awake, she couldn't stand the stuff. For her it was Caf-Pow or nothing. Yet here she was, in a crowded coffee shop, waiting in line for a mocha for herself (if she had to drink coffee, then it better have some chocolate in it) and a straight black coffee for Lestrade, because the only shop that actually stocked Caf-Pow in England was closed for renovations.

Someone jostled her, knocking a earphone out of her ear and Abby scowled. This was why she had refused to go on coffee runs, right from day one. Humans got so angry when they couldn't get their coffee on time. Manners went right out the window. Her frown deepened as a sense of claustrophobia began to slowly creep up on her. She hated being in such cramped spaces with so many people around her, unless it was at a party. She had to get out of here. Fast.

Finally her order was slid across to her and the woman clutched the cups gratefully. Turning, she nudged her way through the crowd. She'd almost made it to the door when someone fell back into her, making her spill Lestrade's coffee onto her. A mournful look briefly crossed her features - that had been her favourite coat. No matter. As the person apologized, she looked up and gave the man a crooked smile, shaking her head dismissively. "It's ok. It's just coffee. You could have spilled that one and then we would have been in real trouble," she added with a teasing chuckle, nodding to the mocha she'd managed to save. "It's not even good coffee here, it's just the closest to my work." She shrugged, cocking her head to the side and studying him for a moment. "I'm Abby, by the way."

~
Outfit: this with this coat.

Sam smiled awkwardly in return, really hoping she wouldn't scream at him or try and punch or kick him into oblivion - both had happened before, and he'd had to run (well, sprint) back to the motel and hide so they wouldn't find him. Dean was never pleased if there was an angry mob outside but he always managed to laugh at him. At least she hadn't done any of those yet, and she seemed rather nice. Perhaps a little more odd than 'normal people' he'd met before, but still. As long as she wasn't trying to kill him (and it looked like she probably could if she wanted to), he was happy.

"It's not even good coffee here, it's just the closest to my work."
"Oh? Where do you work?" Sam enquired, and hurriedly followed it up with, "If you don't mind answering, I'm not a stalker, please don't think I'm a stalker."
He watched nervously as she studied him, shifting from foot to foot as he did so. "Sam."

He was rather attractive, Abby mused, and his awkwardness was rather endearing. Raising one eye, Abby held his gaze, pretending to think about his comment for a moment. "Hmm, I dunno... That's what all the stalkers say nowadays..." she replied, her expression serious, though a teasing tone couldn't help but creep into her tone. Sidestepping a few patrons that were trying to join the queue and taking a few steps closer to the door. "I work over at Scotland Yard," she answered finally, giving a grin to show that she'd been joking with her previous comment. "I'm the resident lab rat there. And what about you? What do you spend your days doing, except going around spilling coffee on people?" she asked with a teasing chuckle.

Sam fidgeted, fiddling awkwardly with the hem of his T-shirt until she spoke. He was about to insist that he really wasn't a stalker when she continued and he sighed in relief, an awkward smile playing across his lips. "Scotland Yard..." he nodded, intrigued. "It must be interesting there. And what does a lab rat do at 'Police Central'?" At her next question, he reached for his ID wallet. Damn. He'd left it in his suit pocket. If Dean found out, he'd be in for it. "I, uh, travel. With my brother." He stuttered at first but gradually gained more confidence as he continued. "We're from the States, and Dean thought it would be a good idea to come over. But, if you don't mind me saying so, it's a little too cold and wet for my tastes..." he trailed off, worried he'd offended her. He kind of had a habit of doing that recently.