This story is a part of a larger piece called 'Prompts, Bitch!' that I have been working on. It is a prompt-based work that consists of several stories. I am also publishing them individually, hoping to reach a wider audience.

The characters involved, aside from Sam and Dean, are from my ongoing series, Lizzy-verse. You do not need to know them in order to enjoy this stand-alone. Just dive right in!

Submitted Prompt: Ok so there's no hunting in this prompt, anddddd I do go into a bit of detail but feel free to change whatever you want! This is just me going overboard as usual lol. Ok so Dean and Sam are brothers; Dean owns a small yet very successful garage that specializes in classic car restoration and Sam is an Assistant District Attorney. Lizzy and Lou are sisters; Lizzy owns a dance studio (she got injured while attending Juliard, effectively ending her chance at a professional dance career, but still loves teaching children and teenagers to dance) and Lou is a bartender at the most popular bar in the city, where she is has a regular gig every week to sing and play guitar and everybody loves her. Perhaps the boys meet the girls one night at the bar when Lou is performing, with Lizzy overhearing Sam tell Dean how mesmerized he is by Lou. They all hit it off and then you can take it from there ;) As if that's not enough, I would like to see (if possible) certain hi-lights of their relationships such as a date or two, proposals, weddings and babies. Maybe after the initial meeting you could do like 1 year later, 2 years later, etc. However it works for you to get the hi-lights of their relationships in there. Of course, smut is ALWAYS welcome and very much appreciated ;) hope you can work with that! Sorry if it's too much! Just use whatever you want :)

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Supernatural Universe. I am just playing in their sandbox.

"Hey," Dean greets as he slides into the barstool next to his younger brother on a Saturday night. He sighs out a groan as he slumps down and leans his elbows into the bar top with relief to be exactly where he is. A bar.

"Hey," Sam greets back and slides over a bottle of cheap beer that he had already ordered for his older brother in anticipation of his arrival.

"Yes," Dean exhales happily and snatches up the beer with glee. He taps the neck of his bottle to Sam's half empty one and guzzles down a solid amount. He's ten minutes late. Got to catch up.

"You sounded like you had a long week on the phone," Sam mentions as Dean lets out a very loud 'ah'.

"Yup," he answers in a still slightly surly tone. "Benny took the long weekend and I'm wrecked. Soon as he leaves everyone's got a problem with their old cars and need them fixed yesterday. Fucking Benny."

"Glad I called then," Sam huffs a slight laugh and shrugs off his suit jacket.

"Why you dressed like that on a weekend?" Dean asks with a scrunched up face.

"Had to work today too," he explains and hooks the jacket under the bar. Sure, those hooks are meant for purses but oh well. Good enough. "And we had a possible high profile case come in today."

"On a weekend?"

"The law applies seven days a week," Sam smirks.

"Sucks," Dean grumps, taking another long drag off his bottle of beer. He then tells his brother with certainty, "You work too much."

"I'm an ADA," Sam reminds with a small grin.

"Yeah, but you're still just a dude in his twenties," Dean tells him as if he'd forgotten.

"So?"

"So… you act like you're forty," Dean huffs out in disappointment. "Act your age for a minute, huh? Get a little drunk. Get laid now and then. You know… stuff people in their friggin' twenties do."

"You mean, act like you?" Sam challenges.

"Yeah. Sure."

"Dean, you're thirty-three."

"I'm immature for my age," Dean smirks back and kills his first beer. He then looks around the bar they're in for the first time. He's never been to before. Generally, he sticks to dives in the area of town he lives in but Sam gave him this address through a text he received at the end of his work day and he just went. Just now Dean's recognizing the trendy wood walls, faux-vintage décor, and hipster crowd surrounding them. "Dude, where the hell are we?"

"Brewtopia," Sam answers back without thinking.

"Brew-what?" Dean questions with dislike.

"It's the closest bar to where I work," Sam excuses, having already known Dean would scoff at the new and trendy place. "It's where I get coffee every morning."

"Coffee!? I thought this was a bar," Dean bitches, leaning over the bar top to look around for booze.

"It is. It's a coffee shop by day and a brewery by night. Get it? They brew both." Sam tries to make it sound like no big deal but he can tell Dean's not excited about this. "It's a pretty good business model, actually. They can stay open all day and make good money. They have damn good coffee, too."

Dean lets out a groan and drops his head. "It finally happened."

"What?"

Looking right at his little brother, he informs him of the unfortunate truth. "You went full hipster."

"Did not," Sam answers and gets offended.

"You did."

"No, I didn't."

"Yes you did," Dean says again, clearly showing his disappointment. "Do we need to get you a pointless tattoo of an arrow on your wrist while you grow out your mustache now? Maybe put your hair in a man-bun?"

"Hey, you're the one wearing flannel," Sam points out, pulling on the shoulder of Dean's plaid over shirt to make a point.

"I don't wear it ironically though," Dean counters.

"How does one wear flannel ironically?" Sam wonders.

Dean doesn't have an answer for though. "Whatever, you hipster…."

"How we doing over here?" a voice cuts into their conversation. Both men turn to look at the girl behind the bar.

Dean immediately smiles the smile he knows has a tendency to melt panties the second he sees her. Dark hair, dark eyes, killer rack in a low cut shirt, beautiful face. Done. "Better now that you're here."

Sam immediately rolls his eyes as the bartender laughs. "Lizzy, this is my brother. And I'm sorry in advance for his mouth."

She laughs some more before eyeing Dean over. "I don't know. I kinda like his mouth."

Dean grins wider for that.

"You guys want another round?"

"Yeah. I'll have the IPA," Sam answers quickly, looking to get Lizzy away from his obnoxious brother as swiftly as he can.

"Sure thing," Lizzy nods and looks at Dean. "And for you, lips?"

He huffs a laugh at her forwardness. A ballbuster. He likes that. "What do you suggest?"

"Any of our house brews are pretty damn good," she informs him as she purposefully leans over the bar onto her elbows. He can see straight down her shirt. "What kind of beer do you usually like best?"

"Usually? Whiskey," Dean answers her truthfully as he wills his eyes to remain on hers and nowhere below her neckline despite her clear challenge.

She smiles wide at that. Dean can literally feel his heart speed up when he sees every straight, white tooth. It's one of the most genuine smiles he's seen in a long time.

"We have a Kentucky style breakfast stout aged in bourbon barrels for nine months on nitro," Lizzy tells him.

Dean nods as if he's considering the idea of all that.

"You have no idea what I just said, do you?" Lizzy grins even brighter when she can see the confusion hidden behind his cool exterior.

"Not a friggin' clue," Dean admits and she laughs out brightly. "This isn't my usual kinda joint."

"How about you just trust me to take care of you, huh?" Lizzy suggests as she places a hand on top of one of his lightly.

"Oh, sweetheart… you can take care of me anytime you want," Dean promises right back.

She snorts out a laugh and pats his hand before she walks away. As she reaches for some clean pint glasses she glances back at the men, making eye contact with Dean for just a second before getting to work.

"Dude! Now I know why you come here!" Dean comments quietly but with huge excitement, smacking Sam in the chest with the back of his hand.

"Lizzy is not the reason I come here," Sam says with slight annoyance.

"Damn," Dean comments, watching her ass as she bends down low to grab something behind the bar. "I'd come to this hipster-hole every day for her. I think you've been holding out on me."

"No way," Sam says absently as he looks off to the corner of the open barroom. He smiles to himself when he sees a petite blonde woman settling into a stool in the there with her acoustic guitar, a microphone set up in front of her.

"Good evening, everyone," a voice says to the moderate crowd of about thirty people. A few clap, clearly knowing her already, and Sam joins them. "Hope you're here for a while. I will be, so keep me company, okay? I swear I don't suck."

"What the hell is this? Poetry hour?" Dean nods over to the woman quickly tuning her guitar and reminding people she takes requests.

"Poetry with a guitar?" Lizzy cuts in and places a pint on a coaster in front of each man. "I think they call that music, Dean." She smirks.

"Oh, is that what that is?" Dean leans into the bar and flashes his best grin again.

"It's what most of us call it at least. And she's damn good… right Sam?" She locks eyes with Sam and watches him turn red.

"Yeah… she's pretty good," Sam nods and looks away, drinking a gulp of beer down to avoid what he knows is coming.

Lizzy sighs and looks at Dean. "Sam's got a thing for her, I'm pretty sure."

"Oh yeah, Sammy?" Dean delights at the news.

"No I don't," Sam tries to calmly deny. "She… she's just got a good voice. I like it."

"Yeah, that must be why you've been here every Saturday for a month, right?" Lizzy rolls her eyes.

Dean's face lightens up with the news. "My shut-in brother has been out on Saturdays for a month?"

"Shut up," Sam quickly grumps, put on the spot.

"Look, I told you before that you should just talk to her," Lizzy reminds him. "You're her type, I promise."

"Nah," Sam blushes harder, looking at the singer. "She doesn't seem like the suit-wearing-guy type."

"No… but she's the tall, dark and handsome-guy type." Lizzy smilesat him in a comforting way. "Trust me. No one knows her better than me."

"She your bestie or something?" Dean asks, trying to get back into the conversation with the hot girl.

"Absolutely. And she just happens to be my sister, too," Lizzy explains. She then knocks on the bar top twice and points to the glass in front of Dean. "Enjoy that. Let me know if I got it right." She winks and walks away to serve more customers.

Dean picks up his glass and looks to Sam, his brother's eyes locked once more on the singer. The expression of clear puppy love is there. "Oh man," he laughs.

"What?" Sam questions defensively.

"You got it bad," Dean keeps laughing and Sam tries to ignore him.

"Seriously? No requests?" the singer asks the crowd around her, disappointed. "You guys are lame."

"Freebird!" Dean shouts out in his usual lame way, getting minimal chuckles around him combined with some groans.

"Ah… there's our comedian of the night!" she points at him from across the room. "There's always one. Hey, man. I can totally play Freebird if you want but for fuck's sake, give me a challenge, would you?"

"Alright… how about Pearl Jam?" Dean tries again, grabbing Sam's shoulder and shaking a little. "My little brother loves Pearl Jam, right?" He looks over to see Sam beet-red and angry. "What? You do!"

The singer's mouth turns up in the corners as her blue eyes lock onto Sam's. "I love Pearl Jam, too. Any specific song, handsome?"

Sam's back stiffens with the question followed up with a compliment and he sighs while sputtering a bit. "I, uh… um…." He's searching his brain desperately to come up with something non-hit to prove his Pearl Jam fandom to this very talented musician. "What about… Low Light?"

Her eyes light up with the suggestion. "Wow. You really are a fan."

Sam just smiles nervously. He can stand in front of a courtroom without breaking a sweat but this girl looking at him with pleasant surprise is making him so anxious.

"Great song. Really nice pick," Lou tells him and she looks down at her guitar. She thinks real quick, marks out her finger placement a couple times, and she huffs a laugh. "Haven't played this one in a long ass time. Hope I do it justice."

She plays the opening chords, eyes closed as she leans into the microphone.

"Clouds roll by. Reeling is what they say. Or is it just my way? Wind blows by…."

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"And this bird you cannot change!"

The ending riff is played out hard on the acoustic guitar and is shockingly impressive. Fingers flying, Lou knows she has to blow away the annoying guy at the bar and make him shut up. The third time he shouted Freebird it became a total test. She's acing it and knows it.

When she finishes off the song and exhales hard as the room claps for her somewhat enthusiastically for an acoustic crowd at a mellow bar. There's one unmistakable whoop and a 'yeah!' from the bar. She smiles over at the annoying Freebird-guy and gives him the middle finger. "Screw you, dude. I rocked the shit outta that," she laughs out and places her guitar in the stand next to her. "Alright, I'm gonna take a break, you drunks. Go get a shot or something. And tip the hot ass bartender well, huh?"

As Lou gets up from her stool her eyes slide to the bar where Freebird-guy is sitting back down. He smiles at the guy next to him warmly, the tall and handsome man a new regular around her bar. She studies the tall one with his shaggy brown hair and strong, chiseled face. Maybe she should actually talk to him tonight. He's been around every Saturday night she's played for a week straight. And he's hot. Very hot. She remembers the first time she witnessed him standing up and she nearly choked on her words mid-Billie Jean cover. He's so tall. So tall. She may have fantasized about climbing him after seeing how tall he is.

As she makes it to the end of the bar closest to where she's been playing, Lizzy is smiling and placing a bottle of water and a shot of Jack Daniels onto the bar top for her.

"Aw, you know me so well," Lou smirks as she stands there across from her sister.

"Nice work on Freebird," Lizzy comments as Lou takes the shot. "Shut him right up."

"Hey, don't challenge me with covers, man," Lou cocks an eyebrow. "I'll make you regret it."

"I would never," Lizzy surrenders, hands up.

"Put that on our tab!"

Both women look down the bar to see Freebird-guy leaning way over the bar and grinning at them.

"She already gets a free shot for singing," Lizzy smiles at him. At least he's generous.

"Then pour another… make it round. On us!" Dean keeps trying as he waves them down the bar.

Lizzy looks at her sister. "What do you think? They're pretty harmless." She shrugs.

"Please," Lou calls her out as she cracks open her water. "You like Freebird."

Lizzy smiles knowingly. "Fair. But Sam's super cute. And he's totally got a thing for you."

"Yeah?" Lou asks after a gulp of water, her interest clear.

"Oh god, definitely," Lizzy laughs. "He's been giving you googly-eyes for a month. Go talk to him and make his night, huh? And be nice! He's a sweet guy."

"Mm, I love sweet guys," Lou nearly growls, looking down at Sam's profile as he smiles at something his brother said.

"You love to crush them like bugs. Just be nice this time, okay? He's not like the usual guys you like," Lizzy warns, having gotten a soft spot for Sam right off.

"Yeah, his brother is," Lou laughs, already getting a picture of who these two are.

"Just go say hi and get your shot, huh?" Lizzy sasses back and walks for the Jack bottle behind the bar along with some shot glasses.

Lou makes her way down the bar a bit, just catching Freebird elbowing his brother when he sees her approaching. It's cute, she has to admit.

"Hey there," Lou says to them both, leaning sideways into the bar next to Sam as she evaluates them both up close. If she thought they were hot from afar she's now seeing that they are in fact stunning up close. And they look nothing alike. One is rugged and classic bad-boy hot and the other is a unique brand of overall shy yet standout, can't-miss-him handsome. One is in jeans and an old band shirt, the other has on a button down and slacks. They're polar opposites.

"I should apologize for my brother," tall guy says to her right off. "I told him to relax with the Freebird."

"Eh, I think I showed him," Lou smiles up at him as even while sitting down he's taller than her. She holds out a hand to him. "Lou."

"Sam," he responds, shaking her hand and she can feel a slight shake to his grip. "This is Dean."

"Aw, I was just gonna keep calling him Freebird," Lou jokes as she nods at Dean.

"Best live cover of Freebird I've ever heard!" Dean excitedly tells her. "You're good!"

"Thanks," she laughs at how amped up he is while Lizzy lines up four shot glasses and starts pouring.

"Hey, made my shitty day way better," Dean lets her know.

"And what could possibly make a happy guy like you have a shitty day?" Lou wonders, seeing his dopey smile that looks a little lubricated with booze.

"Eh, work stuff," he brushes off. "Nothing some beer and shots can't fix."

"And ain't that just what I'm here for?" Lizzy grins and pushes a shot to each person at the bar. "Thanks, boys." She lifts her glass.

They pick theirs up and clink. All shots downed, Lizzy collects the glassware as Sam makes a sour face.

"Not much of a shot taker, Sam?" Lou asks him, eyes locked on his. Up close she's having a hard time figuring out his eye color. Hazel? Kind of green? Grey/blue? She has no idea. She just knows she likes them.

"Not usually," he admits. "I'm getting used to the occasional glass of good scotch with coworkers at the end of a long day but I don't usually do shots."

"And what is it you do during these long days of yours, hm?" Lou wonders, leaning into her hand with an elbow on the bar. She looks at him intently.

"I'm the ADA for Yolo county," Sam says simply, no pride at all.

"ADA! Mister Fancy!" Lou jokes with him. "And here I was thinking I was doing prestigious stuff."

"What do you do?"

"You're looking at it!" she gestures around her.

Sam just stares at her. "You work here?"

"I own here," she corrects. "This is my place."

"No kidding!" Sam delights. "I come in here every morning for coffee. Never seen you around."

"I make my presence known at night mostly," Lou explains. "Mornings aren't really my thing… even if drinking coffee is."

"So… do you brew the beer or…?"

"Hell no," she laughs. "It's a friend of mine that does it. Garth. I roast the coffee, he brews the beer. It's a good partnership."

"So, the Sumatran blend I get every single morning?"

"Roasted, by hand, by yours truly," Lou smirks, hands on her hips with pride.

"That's my favorite roast," Sam smiles at her, dimples out.

Lou's heart skips with the somehow boyish grin on such a statuesque man. "Mine too. I mean, I like them all since I roast them all… but if I had to pick one of my babies as my favorite, it's the Sumatran."

"I'll never stray then."

"Better not," Lou smiles and pushes him in the shoulder flirtatiously. "Sounds like you're one of our best customers. I'd hate to lose you."

Sam nods, highly impressed. "But wait… does that mean you don't do anything at all with music?"

"That's just my hobby, I guess you could say," she explains. "I love music. Played it my whole life. But realistically… that's not a career choice."

"You could do it," Sam says with certainty. "Totally. You have a great voice."

"So do hundreds of girls," Lou laughs, flattered. "But thanks."

"You're welcome," Sam softly smiles back and looks down at his beer on the bar, hands wrapped around it.

He's so damn cute. The way he hides from her behind his shaggy hair after complimenting her is too much.

"I gotta get back," Lou says to him. "Any last requests?"

Dean's ears perk up and he turns away from his side conversation with Lizzy to look at her. "You know any Zeppelin?"

"Is the fucking sky blue?" Lou laughs at his question.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

"Okay, so here's the deal," Lizzy says quietly as Lou plays her last song of the night and Sam's in the bathroom. She's been waiting for this opportunity to speak to Dean alone half the night. She curls her finger, beckoning him to come closer. He leans in over the bar a bit and she leans down on her elbows towards him. "I know Sam's got a thing for my sister."

"You think?" Dean says, obviously agreeing.

"But he's shy. I can tell."

"Sam talking to a girl is pretty nightmare-ish," Dean shakes his head, eyes closed. "He's like a virgin at the Playboy Mansion, I swear.

"But it's cute," Lizzy adds in the caveat, laughing at Dean's comparison. "My sister, however… she's not shy. At all."

"That could be a good thing though," Dean comments. "He needs the push."

"She's a fucking maneater. She'll scare him away," Lizzy explains, dropping a napkin on the bar top and sliding over to him. "So… I need your help."

Dean takes the napkin and looks. Two numbers, one labeled Lou and the one under it labeled Lizzy.

"You need to steal his phone. Put her number in it and tell him to text her for dinner. If he tries to ask her out here in person she'll just try to go home with him tonight."

"Good!" Dean cheers. "He needs to get laid so bad…."

"Well, Lou doesn't," Lizzy interrupts him, knowing time is limited. "She needs a date… not a one night stand."

"What about you?" Dean asks and changes the subject to something more selfish. "What do you need? Date? One nighter? I mean, I can do either. Or both, really."

Lizzy's face spreads out into a wide smile. "Focus."

Dean's face falls.

"Will you talk to him, get him to text her?" Lizzy keeps trying, already knowing Sam would be too good for her sister.

"I'll do what I can," Dean promises, pocketing the napkin. He winks at her.

Lizzy just smiles at him with thankfulness for the help as Sam sits back into his stool.

"Can we get the check, Lizzy?" Sam asks, knowing it's after last call.

"Sure thing," she answers in a friendly tone and walks for the register.

Sam then turns around and glances at Lou out of the corner of his eyes. He's nervous. She's going to finish singing soon and he might be left to make small talk with her. He'd love to ask her to see him some time, maybe even go home with him… but that's never been his thing. He's too shy for that and he is fully aware of the goofy, painfully awkward person he becomes when one-on-one with a woman he's attracted to and likes. Why is he so weird?

"Thanks, sweetheart," Dean says and it brings Sam out of his brain. He watches Dean grinning wide with confidence at Lizzy, her hand lingering on his a little longer than necessary as she hands over their check for the night.

Right, that's why he's a dork with girls. Dean got all the fucking swag. Jerk.

"On me," Sam tells him and snatches the receipt from Dean's grip.

"Uh, alright. Not gonna fight you on that one," Dean huffs out and kills the last gulp in his pint glass.

"Hey, I know you don't like newer bars that don't smell like mold and stale beer so I owe you." Sam pulls out his credit card.

"Actually… I kinda like this place," Dean admits, eyes glued to Lizzy's ass as she moves around behind the bar to close out the night.

"No… you like the bartender," Sam clarifies, sliding the check and his card to the inner edge of the bar. "There's a difference."

"Can you blame me?" Dean asks her.

Sam just laughs a little, thanking god that Lou chose to play American Pie at the end of the night. Long song. He can leave before she's done.

"You gonna stay?" Sam asks, nodding in Lizzy's direction.

Dean thinks about it hard, really wishing he could stay and see if she'd be up for more fun after her shift ends. "Nah," he thinks better of it. "She doesn't seem like the type."

"She is," Sam smirks. "Saw he leave early one week with some guy. You got a good shot."

"Yeah… maybe another time," Dean denies as Lizzy comes over, grabs Sam's card, and leave to run it, her eyes always on Dean.

"You feeling alright?" Sam asks with shock.

"Damn good. Why?"

"I just… I've never seen you turn down a night of fun with a hot girl before. Dude, she's eyeing you. She's hoping you stay."

Dean's hand lands on the pocket of his jeans where he's stowing the napkin she gave him with her phone number on it. "I got a feeling I'll see her again."

"You got her number, didn't you?" Sam gets annoyed.

"He sure did," Lizzy grins and place a receipt copy for Sam to sign and his card on the bar. "Didn't even have to ask, either. Have a good night, boys." She winks at Dean and gets back to work.

"Bastard," Sam mutters and signs quickly, leaving a generous tip. He quickly stands up and grabs his suit blazer from under the bar.

"Wait… don't you wanna talk to Lou before we go?" Dean tries to stop him.

"She's busy," he shrugs and puts on his jacket.

"Give her a minute and she won't be," Dean tells him, knowing the song is almost over.

"I don't want to bother her," Sam shrugs it off and starts for the door.

"Whoa, whoa," Dean stops his brother with a hand clamped around his arm. Sam pauses and looks at Dean still in his bar stool. "You're not gonna bother her by talking to her."

"She's had a long night," Sam excuses. "So have I. I gotta get more work done tomorrow anyways. Probably already stayed out too long as it is." With that, Sam turns around and heads out the door.

Sighing with sheer let down, though what different actions could he have expected from Sam anyways, Dean stands up. He chances a glance back at Lizzy to find her staring at him with complete disappointment. Dean just shakes his head with loss and waves to her, departing for the night. He catches her returning to another customer, a man on the other end of the bar, and her smile makes his heart drop. Maybe he should have played this differently. She might go home with someone else and he could end up missing out completely.

Nah. He'll play this right this time. He doesn't know why, but he will.

After saying goodnight to Sam, promising to meet up for pizza and The Walking Dead the next night before another long week of work, Dean gets into his beloved car. Starting her up, he sits back for a second, phone in hand as he thinks. Should he? Shouldn't he?

"Ah, fuck it," Dean says to himself, pulling out the napkin he was given. He types in Lizzy's number and a text message.

It's Dean. Just wanted to say I'm glad my brother brought me to your lame hipster bar tonight. Had fun talking to you. I should come by more often… just saying.

Okay, that's dumb. He can't send that lame shit to the really cool, really hot chick he just met. She'll think he's a total dork….

Through the car he can hear a giggle he's come to know well in the last several hours. Looking into his rearview mirror to the front entrance of the bar behind him, he catches sight of Lizzy walking out and laughing with the guy from the other end of the bar.

She's leaving with him. He did blow it! He misjudged this completely!

Panicking, Dean presses send on the text message.

"Shit! No!" he instantly regrets as the text sends and there's nothing he can do to stop it. "Fuck me!"

With wide, anxious eyes, Dean once more watches her in the rearview. He sees when Lizzy pauses on her way to a car with her guy of the night to pull her phone out of her back pocket. Checking the text message she just received, Dean's nerves calm when he watches a sweet, warm smile spread across her face. She bites her bottom lip for a second before she once more looks to the man she's leaving with. He can't hear the conversation but the disappointed look on the guy's face as she pulls her own keys from her purse is priceless.

And a huge, triumphant grin of his own hits his face as he watches her leave alone. It feels like victory.

His smile is even bigger than that one the next morning when he wakes to find a text response inviting him to come see her any Wednesday or Saturday night that she's working if he wants.

Turning over in bed for the twentieth time, Sam sighs heavily. He can't sleep. And hour of trying and he's wide awake.

He's a god damn coward. That's what it is. It's regret.

All he had to do what talk to her at the end of the night. Just stay at the bar a few more minutes, maybe ask for her number. He got a great vibe from Lou, a really great vibe. She probably would have given her number to him.

That's the story of his life. Missed opportunity, especially with women. He blew it with Jess by not making enough time for her while working his way through grad school and he was a total chicken shit the moment Amelia talked about moving to the East coast. He knew he'd never follow her. He's let his job aspirations, his fear of change, and his anxiety over women ruin every chance he's had.

And now here he is, lying in a king sized bed alone yet again because he's a wimp.

Next week, he thinks. Next week he's getting her number and asking her out. Dinner. That's what he'll do. Even if he acts awkward and embarrasses himself maybe he won't end up alone in his bed every night. The change has to start somewhere.