It was dangerous to sleep like this (in a nearly catatonic state) without anyone to watch your back. On the other hand, one could not help when they passed out after three days of no sleep. Normally Evy wouldn't let her eyes shut until she knew that Cady or Dylan were around to keep an eye out and a gun cocked but tonight Dylan was out on a hunt (had been for a while) and Cady was out at some rager. And Evy? Passed out on her and Cady's bed in their small, crappy motel room. She was so out of it that she didn't even hear the door to the room open; nor did she hear Dylan's footfalls as he crossed the room to her. The only thing that woke Evy was a nudge to her side, which sent her into a start. Her hand flew up, grabbing Dylan by the collar and knocking his feet out from under him. Before she could successfully pin him down, a large leg swung around and knocked out her feet. Her guard was let down long enough for the larger, certainly masculine body to slam the girl against a wall.

Ouch, that the words themselves were shaped by a smirk, "So, Evy, have a nice nap?" His breath tickled her ear, making her cringe slightly. Apparently your breath really stank after a week of no brushing.

Eyebrows and lips narrowed in unison, her usual reaction to being taken by surprise and then taunted about it. Her response was hissed through clenched teeth, "Yeah, awesome, Dylan. How's the whole being a dick thing going for you?"

The man simply pressed her harder into the wall, Evy naturally turning her head to one side to prevent her nose from being broken, and shot back with a short laugh, "Now, now, where are your manners? Haven't I taught you to respect your elders?"

Evy rolled her eyes and retorted, "No, you haven't actually, and y'know this could be considered sexual harassment. I could sue your sorry ass." Not that she ever would. Christ, the only reason she was even bothering to mention their close proximity was so she didn't die on the spot. Everything she'd ever learned was about self preservation and this was just making sure she didn't do anything stupid.

Dylan's reaction was to the comment it was quickly covered by a sharp hiss which was the reaction to the back of Evy's head colliding with his chin. He stumbled back, his hand going up to check for any serious damage (there wasn't any), just long enough for Evy to slip out from behind him and put a good distance between them. In a moody tone she added, "Now that was something you taught me. Oh, and you smell like a sewer." The last bit was added with a sarcastically perky little smile. And now things were back to normal.

Smell wasn't exactly a surprise, Dylan always smelled terrible after coming back to them after one of his escapades. It was just a part of the job, along with getting injured and getting screwed over. Though the smell was horrible Dylan didn't need to get stitched up for anything, which was always good. All the man needed was a hot shower, hot food, and hot coffee. Maybe even some company, or maybe Evy was just using wishful thinking on that bit. At any rate, the food and coffee needed to be started now before Cady came home and Evy had two people to look after. The brunette went to the 'kitchen' counter and turned on the small (there's an understatement) stove, making a mental note that she should make Dylan some chicken (easy to make, filling, and cheap). He was still rubbing his chin when she turned around to grab a pan, and cursing slightly under his breath. Her only comment was, "Better your face then your groin, yeah? Because, actually, I'm supposed to kick guys in the crotch if they try to feel me up without consent. I mean, using your words, not mine."

A glare was shot at Evy as she placed the pan on the stove and a teasing threat (if it were possible) came out, "You really think you have the guts to take me down?"

He took a step toward her, closing the gap between them once a moment the girl just held her breath and stared back up at him, in awe a bit. After a moment, finally, whatever it was that was lodged in her throat came free and she said in a small voice that was completely unlike her, "Go wash up, Dylan, you smell like a hobo."

Then she turned around and began to fiddle around and prepare the food. After his footsteps had moved away and the bathroom door closed behind him, Evy let out a great sigh. What was wrong with her? The water was running in the other room as chicken sizzled in the pan and Evy lazily stood by the stove and watched it, least it get overcooked. Dylan was very specific about his food and was usually very crabby when he got home after a hunt. So his food had to be perfection. Which was why it wasn't so smart to let her mind wander a bit as she blankly stared at the pan. Letting herself daydream about Dylan and other silly, girly things that would never come true. After a second she shook her head and blinked. Then she quickly scooped the food onto a paper plate and put it onto the counter. Evy had successfully made a fresh batch of coffee and put a chipped mug (probably used more times then she'd like to think about) full of it next to Dylan's plate on the counter. Collapsing on the edge of her and Cady's bed, as if her legs were about to give out, she took long, deep breaths. In, two, three, breathe out, two, three. Eventually, she was calm once more (albeit the coffee now gone). Evy got up and rinsed out the cup, throwing it back into the cabinet that was still slightly higher then she was. The shower water was still running, Dylan obviously wanting to get himself nice and clean before stepping out. With a sigh, Evy crossed her arms and walked over to her bed, flopping onto it with her stomach down and a remote in her hand. Grabbing a pillow she bunched it up underneath her chest and lazily flicked through channels for about ten minutes. Then she was really getting impatient, and decided to say in a loud voice (probably louder then she'd meant it to be), "HEY DYLAN! LEAVE SOME HOT WATER FOR CADY. SHE'S GOING TO NEED IT!"

There was a thud, which made Evy laugh, and then the sound of the water shutting off and Dylan hopping out of the shower. Lazily, she crossed one ankle over the other and yanked her hood up, waiting for Dylan to come out and wolf down his food like always.

Instead of that happening however, the following occured: Dylan lazily walked out of the bathroom, now squeaky clean. His hair was dark and damp, his face now free of stubble, and his skin free of dirt. Why Evy could see all this was more shocking though, Dylan had walked out in nothing but a towel. That alone made Evy's heart knock like a bunny being chased by a wolf against her ribs, her eyes widening slightly for a moment before she buried her head back into her arms and her hair falling into her eyes. She heard her companion reach for the plate and she murmured into her hand with a sarcastic tone (just loud enough for him to barely hear it), "Oh no, my innocence."

Looking back over at her, then back at the towel holding up around his waist, he replied, "Oh please, you haven't been innocent in ages, Evy."

The accusation wasn't untrue, they had all caught glimpses of each other when they were changing in cramped spaces or in the woods. And okay, maybe Evy had seen more then just a glimpse of Dylan but it was just one time and almost completely an accident. Her response was thus, a shaking of her head and, "Don't be ridiculous Dylan, I am just as innocent as you are."

The statement sounded true enough (and it was), but that wasn't really saying much as Dylan would pretty much screw any girl with all her limbs in the right place and a heart beat. Which when the girl thought about it sort of made her heart ache a bit, but she tried hard not to think about it. So it was rarely ever became a problem. Evy wasn't that bad but she might be in a different situation then the one she currently found herself in. Guys tended to avoid her nowadays because of her reputation that seemed to follow her around like the plague. Apparently if you show up to your first day of your junior year wearing ripped jeans, a tight fitting band tee shirt (which may or may not have also been torn, Evy simply cannot remember), and converse older then you were you were labeled as bad news. Also, punching out the linebacker for trying to feel you up in the lunch line and getting suspended didn't help your case, nor did following the suspension up with an expulsion for having a butterfly knife. So now Evy was known as 'that crazy bitch who punched out my boyfriend' by the cheerleaders, 'my hero' to the nerds that the guy had picked on, and probably somewhere in the middle for everyone else. At any rate, she didn't get to see much of guys her age anymore, at least not until they moved onto the next town where the process would start up all over again…

Dylan once again pulled her away from her reverie, calling out to her as he sauntered by (Evy determinedly ignoring that smirk of his that only he could really pull off). Her olive eyes flicked up lazily, careful not to linger too long on his body but not jump over it too quickly either, and she muttered, "Mmm, what?"

A huff was her blunt response before he said in an irritated (hopefully playfully) tone, "I said I smelled cooking. Did you eat it all or is there food for me?"

The girl just rolled her eyes as she rolled to sit up on the bed and shot back with the same tone, "Have I ever eaten all the food? No, I haven't." Her eyes locked with his (Good God, the cliché thoughts that clogged her mind) for a brief second before looking to the counter where the still warm food resided, her eyebrow raising slightly. Was he stupid? Or did he want to annoy her? At any rate Dylan picked up the food and moved to sit down on his bed next to her, but not before said in a voice that really meant no shit, "Dylan. Clothes. Now."

His reaction wasn't what she thought it would be; there wasn't any fighting, no snide comments about her getting flustered when he was partially naked in front of her. Dylan just grabbed his freshly washed clothes off the bed, walked in the bathroom (not acknowledging Evy's gaze), and came out a moment later dressed. Well, technically, his plaid button up wasn't buttoned but Evy would take what she would get.

It was awkward from then on, Evy laying on her stomach, arms crossed and her head resting on them, lazily flicking between channels and completely ignoring the older man. Dylan sat on his bed, eating the food and half watching the TV, though clearly concentrating on something else. He didn't even tell Evy to 'pick a channel and fucking stick to it', for once he allowed her to do whatever the fuck she wanted. He was in one of his moods again, so he probably wouldn't even acknowledge if she stood up and smashed his guitar. Maybe he would throw a fit later but not definitely not right now.

The girl couldn't stand it, she was never to compute silence. It pressed down around her like a fog, making her senseless, blind, and entirely confused. She needed to do something but clearly Dylan wasn't going to be a decent conversationalist anytime soon. So, carefully, ever so carefully, Evy rose from her bed and placed the remote where she had just been sitting, ruffling her mussed hair. Then, in a particularly daring move, she picked up Dylan's guitar; she could feel his eyes on her (more like searing into her skull) but she kept going. Her fingers picked out a song she'd been practicing. Dylan stopped glaring now, instead looking at her with a sort of… happy (Evy will be damned if that wasn't genuine happiness) expression and a small remnant of a smile on his full lips. He moved to sit next to her, watching her fingers glide up and down the strings.

Evy didn't know if Dylan was mad at her for touching his guitar, she wasn't positive if she had just made him smile, but she did know that a very drunk Cady was going to be coming home soon. And that would save her from another fight (so maybe her and Dylan fought like an old married couple…) if her first two assumptions were not in her favor. Thank God for Cady's wild streak.