#I went from like a three inch futon to a god damned couch

[sodacowboy]

mattresses should not be this fucking expensive

[cloverhighfivewritestoo]

Quarantine Roomies

👉 Read it on Ao3

This is @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover​’s fault. She wrote Be Mine, this Quarantine (1.6k) and I continued it (hence the part 2). So if you want context, go read the other fic where Dean tries to sum up the courage to ask Cas to quarantine together. (also, I continued the fic, so there’s details from her fic that went into mine too)

But if you just want to start where Dean gets to Cas’ place, here we go.

college!AU, buddies to not-buddies, fluff, 2k

And so Dean had moved in with Cas for the quarantine. Cas had a second room with a futon, which he had made into a bed for Dean. “So here’s the room I have for you,” said Cas. “It’s not much, but…” Dean was just trying to breathe. He was here. In Cas’ apartment. He was going to sleep in the room right next to Cas’. “Do you think it’ll do?”, asked Cas. The bed could have been nailed to the wall vertically, Dean wouldn’t have cared. “It’s perfect, Cas. Thanks.” “OK then. Um, I cleared two drawers in the chest of drawers there – don’t try to open the other drawers, they’re gonna explode – and, um, the closet is pretty empty except some boxes.” “OK. Cool.” Dean and Cas looked at the room in silence. “Oh,” said Cas, “do you think you need a nightstand?” “What?” Cas didn’t wait for Dean to actually answer. He rummaged in the closet and produced a box that was high enough and big enough to serve as a nightstand. He turned to Dean and smiled. “All set!” Fuck. That smile. Dean was fucked. Cas shuffled on his feet, inching towards the door. “So, um, I’ll let you unpack your stuff.” “Oh, you can stay.” Cas sat on the futon with a smile. “Did you bring a lot?” Dean just wanted to sit next to Cas and hug him and kiss him, but he had to keep face. “Just what I need. You have a washing machine?” “In the basement.” “Alright.” Dean unpacked his bags and felt Cas’ eyes on him the whole time. Cas would even comment on the shirts Dean brought, pointing out that this or that shirt was a favourite of Dean’s or himself. For some reason, it made Dean happy. And Cas seemed happy too. It was a bit weird how he felt happy just unpacking and talking. Dean tried not to read too much into it.

After, they’d gone grocery shopping, because Cas said Dean was the better cook so he should be there to choose what to buy. Cas declared he had quite the sweet tooth, and Dean promptly added a few cake box mixes to the cart. “That’s gonna be a lot of cakes though, Dean.” Dean winked. “Did you know you can make cookies out of cake mixes?” Cas’ eyes widened. “Funfetti cookies?” Dean smirked. “Any mix.” Dean smiled fondly as he watched Cas carefully choose three more boxes, two of which were funfetti. Dean added some multicolor nonpareils to the cart. “More fun for the funfetti.” Cas smiled wide. Dean wondered if he was completely red now. Dinner was frozen pizza, since Dean declared that coming back from groceries nobody wants to cook. But he baked a batch of funfetti cookies nonetheless, which they ate on the couch, watching a Mission: Impossible movie. Actually, Dean had two cookies, and Cas just kept on eating them slowly. At one point, Dean had to tell Cas to slow down. “Come on, buddy. You’ll be sick.” Cas had looked sadly at the cookies plate. “They’re just so good.” He’d taken another cookie very slowly, his eyes on Dean, as if he was worried he’d stop him. Dean just shook his head. “Hey, don’t come crying to me when you get a tummy ache.” “OK,” Cas said, shoving the cookie in his mouth. Fuck. Dean was so fucked. How will he last a whole quarantine with this adorable fucker without completely losing his mind? Cas got up. “I’m getting milk. Want milk?” “Nah I’m good.” He watched Cas go to the kitchen – hgnnn that ass – and then heard him shout back “Hey I’m not sleepy at all.” Dean shouted, “No shit.” “We could watch another movie.” “Alright.” Cas came back, took a big gulp standing in front of the couch, licked his lips – yeah, Dean was soooo fucked – set his glass on the coffee table, and flopped down next to Dean. And, Dean noticed, he was… quite closer this time. But Cas looked like nothing special was going on. So Dean started another movie. When the movie was done, Dean looked at Cas. “You still seem wide awake. That was a lot of cookies.” “No, it’s just my weird sleeping schedule.” “If you say so. I think I’m gonna head to bed though.” “Yeah me too. I’m gonna read a bit.” Dean knew he couldn’t sleep though. He was thinking about the afternoon, unpacking his things with Cas sitting on the bed and chatting him up, and going grocery shopping, how fun it was – how can it be fun? But it was. And then talking about their teachers over dinner, and then Cas’ face lighting up when the cookies were done and how he almost burnt his mouth trying to eat one right away… His head was dizzy with Cas smiling, and all the faces he made, and how painfully adorable he always was, on top of being goddamn hot, on top of being so easy to be with. Dean had left his door slightly open, closed enough so it looks like he has his privacy, but open enough so he can see if Cas walks around in the night, hopefully in his underwear. OH GOD. Why had Dean have to think about that? And so Dean was fixating a bit too much on the soft light reflecting in the hallway from Cas’ room – who, it seems, had left his door slightly open too – and his ears were picking up the sound of ruffling sheets as Cas changed positions to read, the page sliding against the other page as he turned it, the occasional hm or sigh in reaction to what he was reading. Dean felt a bit of air blow on his nose. It took him a few moments to realize it was morning and that he had dozed off to sleep – at what hour he had no idea, but he hadn’t seen Cas’ light turned off.  He felt a bit of cool air again. He took a deep breath. He heard purr. Dean’s eyes shot open. The cat! He’d forgotten the cat! The cat was purring louder. “Hey buddy,” Dean whispered. The cat yawned and blinked. It purred some more. Dean realized his nose wasn’t itching. His eyes weren’t on fire. What? He was allergic to cats, he’d even brought medicine for an army – and forgotten to take any. “How come I’m not allergic to you?” Purr, purr. Dean took his time to wake up, even petted the cat on his head, which granted him more purring, which almost put Dean back to sleep. Eventually, he got up and just pulled on a pair of jeans, walking in the kitchen barefoot, no shirt on. He started to prepare some coffee. Dean heard Cas in his room make waking grunts as he stretched. He heard Cas say “Hey Jack, you sleep well?” Damn, Dean could hear the cat purr from the kitchen. He heard Cas again, “Come on, let’s see if Dean is up.” Suddenly, Dean regretted not putting on a shirt. He felt very self-conscious. He didn’t have time to dwell on that for long: there was a loud clang behind him and a “OUCH SHIT”. He turned to see Cas wincing, holding a foot. A chair was on the floor. “You alright?” Cas breathed in sharply. “Yeah, yeah. Just banged into the chair.” “How did you do that?”, Dean said, and he saw Cas’ eyes glance over his chest and look away. “I dunno, clumsy I guess,” Cas said, as he picked up the chair and sat on it, rubbing his shin and his foot, looking pointedly down. Dean was in shock. Did Cas just check him out? He suddenly felt very naked. But going to put a shirt on now would seem too weird. Better play it cool. “I got coffee going.” “Thanks.” Dean walked around the table to Cas. “You’ll be alright?” Cas showed his leg. “Yeah. My ego’s probably more bruised.” “Alright.” Dean sat on the chair on the side, turning it slightly to face Cas. They both looked at Cas’ leg, while Cas was moving his foot to check what hurt and what was OK. The coffee was dripping in the background. “Cas, by the way… and this is weird… I think I’m not allergic to your cat.” “Jack? He’s hypoallergenic.” “But he’s got hair. He’s even quite fluffy.” “Still hypoallergenic.” “Uh. Nice. I don’t have to take meds then. Cool. Talk about a coincidence, you having an allergy-free cat.” Cas seemed to think about something. “I knew you were allergic.” “What?” Cas looked down. “When I got Jack. I knew. That’s why I went for this type of cat.” “What? Wait. You already had a cat when I met you. You got a new cat?” “No, it's the same cat.” Cas bit on his lip. “Actually, I got him two weeks after I saw you.” Dean’s heart was racing, but mostly he was confused. What was Cas saying? “I don’t follow. This cat is clearly older than we’ve been friends.” Cas looked at his hands. “I saw you before you saw me.” “What? When?” “Last year. You were arguing with someone about their cat. And I’d just moved in, and I wanted a cat. I thought if one day I’m lucky, maybe this guy will come to my place, you know, be my friend, and I don’t want to kill him, so, I got a hypoallergenic cat.” “Last year.” “Yeah.” Dean thought he was dreaming or something. Did Cas just tell him he had a crush on him since last year? No. He said ‘friend’. He couldn’t help but repeat what Cas had said. “You got that cat because of me, last year.” “Yeah.” Dean was stunned. He didn’t know what to say. Could it be… ? No. But… ? Cas glanced at Dean, who wasn’t moving, or, seemingly, even breathing. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry.” Cas got up and went to his room. He closed the door. Dean listened to the coffee as it finished dripping, his gaze focused on Cas’ bedroom door. He tried to wrap his head around… all of it. The cat. The easy friendship. Cas texting him good morning every day. Him sending Cas stupid pics of his breakfast like it’s important. The long nights chatting. Cas asking him to come spend quarantine with him. And Cas so happy every time he got to stick around with him. Oh. Dean got up. He knocked lightly on Cas’ door. “Cas.” Cas’ voice came muffled. “No Dean it’s fine. I’m sorry I brought it up.” Dean insisted. “Cas, can I come in? Come on.” It took a moment before he heard a feeble “OK”. Dean opened the door. Cas was sitting on his bed, his arms around his legs, his head between his knees. Dean sat by Cas on the side of the bed. “Hey. I’m glad you told me.” Cas didn’t move. “Why? It’s all gonna be awkward, now.” Dean sat closer. “Cas, look at me.” Cas lifted his head. There were tears on his cheeks. Dean felt his heart sink and his breath catch in his throat. “Cas, oh my god, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” Cas’ big, blue eyes were perplex. “Why?” “Because I’m stupid.” And as he said that, Dean took Cas’ face gently in his hands, and kissed him softly. Cas said, “Are you sure?” “Yes,” Dean said, as he kissed him again. Cas let go of his legs and passed his arms around Dean. The feel of Cas’ hands on his bare skin sent electricity through Dean. He kissed Cas harder, who kissed him back with impatience. Moments later, they came for air. Dean started laughing, Cas started laughing too. Dean said, “I’m glad we cleared that up on the first day. This is gonna make the quarantine so much better.” Cas looked at Dean with the biggest smile and kissed him. “So much.” In Stanford, Sam almost walked into a pole when he got a pic from his brother: Dean was all smiles, an arm around Cas, who was laughing, nudged in Dean’s neck. Of course, there was no text.

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[freckled-words]

Count The Teeth - Part Three

I get so wrapped up between writing and working (doing more writing than working, WHOMP) I keep forgetting to post the next update!!

Edited by @the-wild-ego​

PART ONE / PART TWO

Three peaceful weeks went by. Three weeks without NateMare popping into your apartment. Three weeks without being dragged around. Three weeks to just feel like life was somewhat normal again. 

That bubble of peace was burst in a spectacular fashion as NateMare woke you up in the dead of night. 

The lights were thrown on, and a body slammed onto the mattress next to you.

You woke with a shriek. You shoved yourself away from the body in a frantic scramble. Unfortunately, you’d been right by the edge of the bed.

You hit the floor in an awkward heap, bumping your elbow on the edge of the bed frame in the process. 

That bit of pain ebbed off some of the panic. 

Peering up at your bed, the rest of your panic was wiped out by a surge of anger. 

NateMare was on your bed. His face was buried in the pillows as his body sprawled out over the majority of the surface. 

Not giving a damn about waking the neighbors you yelled, “What the hell is your problem?!”

He snuggled deeper into the pillows, “Yell at me later, trying to sleep.”

“No. I will yell at you now! You can’t just crash here like we’re friends!” for good measure you moved to the other side and slapped his leg. It felt good to hit him. 

There came a rumbling growl from his chest. You tensed, thinking he was about to spring at you, or he’d make the chain do something.

A moment passed, and then another rumbling growl.

Inching closer to peer at his face, you found that he was fast asleep. The growls were his snores.

Throwing your hands up in defeat you left. Thankfully you had a futon for a couch. You were too tired to try hauling his ass up just then, you’d deal with him in the morning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was the smell of coffee that pulled you from your dreamless sleep. Cracking an eye open you found a steaming cup on the table next to you.

Beyond that you could see NateMare in the kitchen. Cooking bacon while he whistled a cheery tune.

Sitting up you squinted suspiciously at the coffee, then over at NateMare, “Either this is a fucked up dream, or I’m in an alternate reality.”

“Sorry for stealing your bed last night, I was half conscious when I came in.” He called back over his shoulder. He turned off the stove and put the frying pan to the side.

The smug smile on his face made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. 

“You’re beyond happy about something. You get laid during the past three weeks?”

Your little quip did nothing to take his smile away, “Yes I did, and it was good times, but that’s not what I’m jiving on.”

You took the cup of coffee and gave it a small sip. Tasted safe enough, just needed more sugar. The nectar of the gods warming you from the inside, you gestured with your hand, “Alright, let’s hear it. What’s got your engines running?”

“While you were here, being unproductive and pining away for me-”

“In your dreams.”

“I was researching. After a little quality time with my host, I took a lovely trip to Japan.”

Your tone dry, you asked, “You have a passport?”

He scoffed and laughed. Going back to the frying pan, he used the spatula to move some bacon onto a plate that had already been loaded with scrambled eggs and toast. It smelled delicious, and you knew your eyes just had to be begging for that food.

Which was why NateMare took that much more pleasure in sitting down on the floor and digging into the plate.

You slurped your coffee in loud protest.

NateMare at least had the decency to wait until he finished his mouthful before talking, “Who needs a passport when I can sneak into a suitcase, and then into an empty seat on the flight? First class is amazing by the way.” He gave a wink as he took another bite of his eggs.

Rolling your eyes you urged him on, “Okay, you went to Japan. Why? What was there?”

He put down his fork and held up a finger telling you to wait. He leaned down and pulled something out from under the table. It was a tattered notebook with a navy blue cover. You couldn’t even begin to guess how old it was just from the frayed page edges you could see.

Placing it on the table he answered, “This beautiful gem, is a journal that belonged to my host’s family. It took me forever to first learn about it, and then to find it stuffed into one of their storages. Bless mortals and their need to hold onto everything for sentimental value.”

You picked up the journal and with slow, delicate movements, turned the pages. The pages were filled with Japanese writing, “And you can read Japanese?”

“No, but I met a charming college student that was happy to translate for me. Among other things.” with a flourish, NateMare pulled out a small stack of papers. 

You took the papers from Mare with a quiet, “Ew.”

They were typed pages, appearing to be word for word translations of what was in the journal.

As you began to read you felt your brows furrow. When you reached the 5th page and its ongoing story you looked up at NateMare, “Is this really-”

“A legend of a monster resembling a family member, that frames them for the murders of a handful of people? Yes. This is that asshat’s origin story.” 

“Alright, I’m adult enough to admit this is some good work. But this doesn’t tell us where to find him.” You continued to read, entirely engaged with the content about the mysterious monster from the past.

While you’d been reading NateMare had finished off his breakfast. Leaving the plate on the table, he lay back on the floor, “I have a name now, and I know someone that can find people with just their names. I’ll have my hands around that leech’s throat by the end of the day.”

This was the best bit of news you’d heard all month, “Great! You have everything you need, and you don’t need me anymore, right?”

Your eager question hung in the air.

Each second that passed without an answer was too long.

“NateMare.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No.”

Throwing off your blanket you stood to glare down at him, “You have what you need. The deal, which I never agreed to, was to help you find him. You don’t need me to find him anymore.”

His eyes were closed with his hands under his head, “The research is done, but I’m not going vampire hunting without bait.”

“Bait?”

He slowly nodded his head.

“Fuck you. Go grab someone off the street and use them for bait. I’m done. You can’t keep dragging me around like this, I have my own life to get on with!” You were panting by the end, and despite your words, your emotions were still a mess that threatened to cause tears.

His eyes opened then. Each of his movements seemed slow and deliberate as he got to his feet. Standing toe-to-toe with you he tsked, “A life to get on with? What life? I kept an eye on you for a little over two weeks. Your ‘life’ consisted of work at that gas station, going to the movies on your own, and sitting on your ass in front of the computer. Maybe the odd screaming match on the phone with your father. Pathetic as your existence is, it belongs to me.”

He snapped his fingers, and you began to burn. 

You’d assumed the chain would be the source of whatever punishment NateMare would inflict on you. You’d assumed wrong. 

You felt as though you’d been dunked into a body of water set to boiling. You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t scream. You watched the skin on your hands form patches of blisters in some spots, or dry into cracks in other patches. 

You were cooking from the inside out, shriveling and weakening your muscles.

Crumpling to the ground, the tears that you managed to produce stung your skin as they traveled down your cheeks and to your chin. 

NateMare crouched down to your level, taking hold of your chin he hissed, “If not for me showing up that night, you would be just like the other victims. Drained and in the hospital, possibly even dead. You’re done, when I say you’re done.”

Straightening he snapped his fingers.

The heat stopped, and your skin returned to normal. Sucking in gulps of air you fought the urge to begin crying. You refused to let him see you as the pathetic person he already thought you were.

“I’ll come to get you once I have a location.” 

Then he was gone, leaving you to wonder what you’d done to deserve this fate.

[i-mushi]

Broken A/C

I have read almost all the Mercy Thompson & Alpha & Omega series books in a whirlwind since February and absolutely love them!! I haven’t written anything in a long while so I’m a bit rusty, but here’s a toe in the water of Mercy’s world. Written because the dog days of summer are coming and because @mercy-thompson-fanfiction filled these last weeks with her awesome stories.

The Tri-Cities always had a summer heatwave that left everyone sweaty, short-tempered, and feeling smothered like they’d been trapped under a hot blanket all night. “Blanket” being loosely defined as any scrap of fabric that blocked the breeze from the fan.

Normally, Mercy cranked the A/C up, kept the garage door shut when she was working (and when she had a garage--thinking about volcano gods made her inch closer to heatstroke), and drank nothing but iced tea to survive. This summer though, thanks to the abuses the house had suffered, the A/C had broken down. Adam, of course, was out of town for security work, the lucky bastard.

Jesse was the first to flee, escaping to any friend’s house overnight and eventually a cabins in the mountains owned by her friend Izzy’s family. Mercy hadn’t quite been ready to offer to chaperone, but that had been three days ago and now she regretted it.

“Next week?” she groaned into the phone. “There’s no one who can come sooner?”

“Sorry ma’am, this is our busy season. The soonest a repairman could come would be Tuesday, 10am.”

“And that’s 10am on the dot, right, not anytime-between-10-and-4 10am?” Mercy confirmed with more bite than normal. She had every right to be short on patience; she hadn’t slept in seventeen hours because no amount of nudity, oscillating fans, and bags of frozen vegetables could stop the itchy feeling of sweat pooling and dripping off her as she tried to fall asleep.

“Yes ma’am,” the woman on the phone confirmed with enough cheer to prove that the company could make air conditioners work in one hundred degree weather.

“Great, fine.” Mercy nearly hung up before tacking on a final “thanks” so she wouldn’t be too rude. 

Maybe she needed to find somewhere else to stay. Surely someone had room?

The obvious choice was Warren and Kyle, but one phone call later confirmed that Kyle’s latest case involved three kids who were staying with him, and guests weren’t an option. Tad and Zee had gone to the reservation for the week, supposedly to smooth something over with the fae, but the longer Mercy allowed her bare thighs to stick to the leather couch, the more convinced she became that they’d run away from the Tri-Cities sweltering summers. Zee at least could have fixed her A/C before he left, she grumbled.

Darren and Auriele... no, bad idea. And Gabriel had finally moved back in with his mother, but he had three sisters and no room to spare. Mary Jo was now living with Honey, which was an option... No one she was a big fan of, but she might start panting like her coyote would if she didn’t melt. Mercy unglued herself from the leather couch, almost surprised to see that she hadn’t left skin behind, and walked down to the basement which was perhaps two degrees cooler than upstairs. 

The phone rang three times before Honey picked up. “Hey, what is it?”

“Hey Honey, uh, is your A/C working? Ours has died, and if I don’t get some sleep soon--”

“Sorry Mercy,” she said, sounding genuine for once. “Our hasn’t been working so Mary Jo’s been bunking at her squad house and I’m with Auriele. Try Warren?”

“Already did.” Mercy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. Frustration welled up but she was too exhausted to do anything about it. Worst case scenario she’d... what exactly? She couldn’t sleep in the car, the Vanagon’s engine wouldn’t take it and it leaked coolant when she turned the A/C up.

She’d start working down the pack hierarchy if she had to, that’s what she’d do. Eventually she’d just impose on someone and figure out how to smooth things over later. If Stefan didn’t live with his sheep she’d even considering going there.

Three calls and three legitimate excuses later (mother visiting, redoing the kitchen, and gone on vacation) Mercy was at the end of her patience and she’d emptied the freezer upstairs and spare refrigerator downstairs of ice. At this point she might ask Warren if she could climb into his ice chest for the night. Either that or she was renting a damn hotel room, and it would be an expensive one since she could smell the last ten people who had slept in a bed.

“Mercy?” came a soft voice from upstairs. “Why’s it so hot in here?”

“Zack?” she called. She headed up the basement steps with a washcloth against the back of her neck that had been cold two minutes ago. Already it was nearly at body temperature. “What’s up?”

“Guard shift,” he answered, shrugging. There were sweat stains on his short-sleeve button up and his hair was flopping into his eyes. Mercy had forgotten that come nightfall Adam wanted another wolf at the house with her just in case. The last two nights she’d ended up hosing down Ben in the backyard in wolf-form to keep him cool and glaring enviously at George, who was unaffected by the heat somehow.

“There’s no A/C here,” she explained when he glanced around and tugged his shirt up to wipe the sweat on his face. “Wait, Zack... do you have A/C?”

“It rattles like it’s haunted and only works in one room.” He glanced around, and Mercy wondered if the walls were melting or if that was just sweat in her eyes. “Would be cooler than here though.”

“Let’s go.”

When Adam returned home three days later, he was aware that the A/C was broken and Mercy had been sleeping on a futon in Zack’s room with his window air conditioner set to frostbite levels. Walking through the sweltering house Adam couldn’t blame her, even as he laughed to himself at the evidence of her frustration strewn all over. Melted bags of frozen peas were left on the kitchen table, every washcloth in the upstairs bathroom had vanished, all the fans in the house were set up like movie studio lights in the living room, and the sheets in their bedroom had been thrown to the floor in an angry wad. Without any windows open the scent of her clean sweat lingered in the basement and on the bathroom floor, where she’d laid on the cool tile.

“You’re home,” she said, sounding tired but pleased. “How fast did you drive from the airport?”

“Enough to get a breeze with the windows down,” he joked, turning around to look at her. Even with damp patches on her shirt and her hair in a messy bun, Mercy looked amazing in cut-off jean shorts and a loose tank. Adam was already stepping forward to embrace her when she took three quick steps back.

“Oh no, it is way too hot for that.” 

“Too hot?” Adam asked bemused. “Not even a kiss?”

She darted in for a kiss but danced out of his grasp before he could hold her. “That’s all you’re getting until we find a hotel room. The repair people are coming tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he growled. He’d been away for a week from his mate, and he wanted to hold her at the very least. Seeing her hot and sweaty in the bare minimum of clothes frayed his self-control, which already wasn’t happy about wearing suit pants in this heat. 

“Come on, your car has A/C right? Let’s get out of this sauna and find somewhere cooler.”

It was too hot for her to saunter out, but Adam’s eyes lingered on her legs nonetheless. “Sure,” he said, distracted by the lightbulb going off in his head. Mercy glanced back and rolled her eyes.

“I am not signing up to get even sweatier,” she warned.

Adam followed her out but before she could hop into the passenger seat he was between her and the car, shifting the seat all the way forward. Mercy put her hands on her hips. “What is this?”

He ignored her and went to the driver’s side to do the same, turning on the ignition and switching the A/C to high while he was at it. Slipping into the backseat he leaned back and surveyed the space. “You wanna close the door?”

She did, right in his smug face. 

“Nudge?”

She started to laugh and suddenly their bond was open again between them and he could feel her frustration, exhaustion, and humor mixing with her desire for him. He popped a few buttons on his formal shirt and rolled up his sleeves, knowing how that enticed her. Getting chilly in here, he told her, and the back door opened. 

“Tight fit,” she commented, but when Adam smiled and crooked his fingers at her she climbed in and shut the door.