It’s a Date || Shawn and Wendy

det-shawn-campbell:

“Again, it’s no problem,” he said as they walked side by side towards the entrance to the bar, giving her a not-so-light pat on the back. “Us newcomers have to stick together.?” He held open a door for her before following Wendy in. The bar was fairly crowded with many of Eastwick’s residents. There were a few familiar faces, but other than that he didn’t have a clue as to who the rest of the patrons were. A few heads turned to look at the new arrivals, interested for only a few seconds before going back to their conversations. Shawn tossed a few people a smile anyway before turning his attention to the waiter who was approaching them. 

He slid into the booth, folding his arms on the table. “It’s supposed to be a party. You call this a party? No one is wasted yet. It’s not a party until drunk people start doing stupid things.” He took in his surroundings, examining the different people hanging around the bar. Any one of them could be a serial killer, or a murderer, or a con artist. His mind went through all of the possibilities. Shawn had a habit of doing that, picking out potential suspects from a group of random people he had never spoken to. This is why he always jumped to conclusions and did something stupidly impulsive. Most of the times he was right, whether it be out of luck or because of his good analyzing skills, but when he was wrong things got ugly fast. “So what do you do for a living, Wendy?” He decided to ask, seeing as he knew very little about her. 

“I don’t really have a job at the moment,” Wendy confessed. “I basically have a bank account that my parents willingly just toss their money in to and every so often I work some odd job. I don’t really need one, though. I’m always just travelling from one place to the next, so I suppose it’d be slightly hard for me to keep one.” She had never been the one for having a career. Her last full on job was as a waitress when she was a teenager. “But, I think that I’ll be staying in Eastwick a little longer than I thought, so it might be good to actually go get a job and move out of that crappy little motel.” She laughed for a moment. The little town of Eastwick had grown on her, and really, she hadn’t expected to stay longer than a week. But for some reason, she was actually beginning to like the idea of stopping and settling in one place.

“But, enough about me. Tell me about yourself, Mr. Detective,” Wendy insisted. All she really knew about Shawn was that he was his name, that he was a detective, and that he was from New York. She had always been one for details, so listening about other people’s lives and lifestyles always fully interested her.