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❝ When life gives you lemons, do not talk to Lia and Sloane. ❞

𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐲,

——— 6:30 PM ; Do not ever make a bet with any of the Naturals. And that is not something I say lightly.

Elisa obviously ignored that warning because she's now engaged in a bet with Dean Redding.

One where the winner gets to go on a two week solo trip to Bali and relax there without the hassle of trying to solve a case.

You might be asking yourself now, how do I win this amazing prize? Easy. You solve Mary's case before the other person does. Dean and Elisa weren't even the competitive ones in this bet, instead, Michael, Lia and Sloane were all equally competing with each other even if they weren't the ones who were going to receive the prize.

''Come on, Elisa! You have the thrilling chance of winning a solo trip to Bali!'' Lia exclaimed, her palm hitting the library table in fit of enthusiasm. ''If I were you, I'd be working overtime on this case so I could win that trip, I mean, just imagine how tanned you'll be afterwards!''

Getting tanned? Thats not what this was about. Not to Dean and most certainly not to Elisa. Lia continued to ramble about the cute tan-sticker tattoos she would obviously get if she ever went to Bali, while Elisa was just sitting at the table across from her, expression blank and eyes seemingly leading to a room filled with cobwebs.

''In my humble opinion, I don't think you should be staying out in the sun for that long. I recommend you just get a real tattoo instead, Lia.'' Sloane intercepted, earning her what seemed to be a kind of death glare from Lia.

Yeah, never interrupt Lia when she's talking about vacations, she's gonna act like a hungry tiger and practically bite your head off.

"This bet is extremely useless, Lia." Elisa murmured, saying her first words since Lia and Sloan had joined her in the library. She imagined Michael was also trying to convince Dean that this was a good idea somewhere else, hell, maybe even the garage if the latter had gotten mad.

"I don't want Mary's case to be like a competition."

Sure, yeah. Call Elisa the devil cause she'd actually agreed to the bet in the first place and then said that, she'd only said that in the heat of the moment — agreeing to whatever Lia proposed only to get her to be quiet so they could all eat dinner in peace.

"Oh, darling! It won't be a competition! Not at all! You just have to be wittier and more willing than Dean! Sure, he's a profiler but I think we all know you're the real brain-powerhouse here." Lia grinned, getting up from her chair and (really badly) starting to massage Elisa's shoulders which, admittedly, were extremely tense. Why wouldn't they be?

Elisa groaned, her face slamming into the open case file in front of her.

"Dude, it's just a case. One like any other, well, putting aside the fact that it's Elisa's sister—"

"Townsend, do you really not have any sense of empathy at all?" Dean interrupted the brunette, his hands threading through his own hair like a hairbrush would if it was tangled.

Michael stared at Dean with a cocked eyebrow, hands propped up on his hips. It's not like he didn't have a sense of empathy, the guy was just... different. He didn't let this stuff get to him as easily as it did to Elisa or Cassie.

"Sorry. But you still gotta look at it that way if you want this to be less painful. Plus — if you solve the case first, you'll go to Bali, man! Maybe even meet some chicks while you're at it. Would help your lonely ass finally get some action going." Michael said, reiterating his past point.

Dean shot him a death glare (damn, a lot of death glares today, no?) lifting up a dumbbell from the dumbbell stand he'd installed in the safe houses garage around a year ago.

Michael had tried a couple more times to talk to the blonde, though those attempts failed miserably since Dean had decided to go all nonverbal on him and just do his i'm-mad-don't-talk-to-me workout. Not cool bro, not cool.

Eventually, Michael had left Dean alone in the garage, going to watch whatever was on TV. Now being alone, Redding cracked his already bloody knuckles before hitting the punching bag once more, the hit sending a stinging pain up his entire forearm.

"Fuck—" he groaned, reaching for one of the clean towels and the bottle of rubbing alcohol from the tiny shelf installed on the wall.  He'd only recently started keeping towels, bandages and rubbing alcohol in the garage — or rather his personal gym — after Elisa and Cassie had convinced him to start properly taking care of his wounds.

He could clearly remember Elisa's voice in his head; 'They're gonna get infected, and trust me, that's a lot worse than feeling the sting of alcohol while disinfecting them.'

The stinging pain from the alcohol quickly overshadowed the still very present pain in his forearm. Probably should get that checked out eventually.

A set of footsteps down the hall ripped Dean out of his pain-induced hallucinations. Actually, more than one pair of footsteps. Three pairs of footsteps and also three female voices. Lia, Cassie and... Agent Sterling?

Instead of, like, maybe going out to check or rather eavesdrop on their probably very private conversation, Dean just sat there. He just sat there, sitting on the workout bench, legs spread, bottle of rubbing alcohol still in his hand and gaze psychopath-ically fixed on the door as if someone would magically come in.

Well, Agent Sterling did come in, but not so magically. The look on her face was serious, but for some reason, Dean couldn't read more into it, Sterling's face looked like you'd just chilled it straight out of stone and her stature said the same thing.

"Who said it would be okay for you kids to make Mary's case into a bet? And who's going to pay that excursion to Bali?! Are you all out of your mind?" She shouted, making Dean visibly flinch uncomfortably.