fandomtownies | The Beach: Wednesday Evening

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the beach as the first notes of music from Arden’s playlist filled the air. The waves gently lapped at the shore, creating a soothing backdrop to the area. Tiki torches and string lights were set up around the party area, their flickering and colorful light adding to the atmosphere.

The aroma of North Carolina barbecue filled the air, with a long table set up with all the fixings—pulled pork, coleslaw, hush puppies, and more. For those with different tastes, vegetarian and vegan dishes were also thoughtfully provided. Sweet tea was the main beverage, but for those craving something colder, Squishies were lined up next to the drinks cooler. The centerpiece of it all was a giant cupcake that Graham had brought all the way from Daventry for the occasion.

Games were scattered around the beach: volleyball nets, cornhole, frisbees, and even a few board games for those who preferred to sit back and relax. A bonfire crackled nearby, with cozy spots to sit and chat, perfect for those who wanted to enjoy the evening at a slower pace.

It was set up for a perfect evening, filled with good food, great company, and the kind of fun that comes from being surrounded by people. Yes, it was another surprise party, the kind that shouldn’t be a surprise anymore, really. But that’s the point of parties—to celebrate the people you care about. And tonight, it was all about Arden.

[Open to all and any part goers]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"It's from... well that's a long story. It's kind of a family thing," Dean admitted. "I stopped off at a place I know on my way back on my trip to get it. It's from a group called the men of letters who dealt with a bunch of weird stuff back in the day. It's just a small charm to keep away any low level spirits."

Well, at least it would help keep away the fey from his world. Her world? Probably not so much.

At the word 'family,' Arden got a little misty-eyed, hand closing over the charm a little bit. "It's--" Her voice was raspy, she had to clear it and try again. "It's really lovely, Dean. Thank you."

Dean shifted his weight as he glanced away for a moment, trying to keep his expression casual. "Hey, no big deal," he said, his voice carrying that familiar gruffness. But the corners of his mouth twitched upward, betraying a hint of a smile he couldn't quite suppress.

"Glad you like it," he added, shrugging as if it was nothing. "Just... figured you deserved something to remind you that, you know, you’re not alone." He gave her a quick, glance before looking away again, masking how he felt at her reaction. "Anyway, don’t go getting all mushy on me now."

"I'm not!" Arden protested. "I got some smoke in my eye from the barbeque. I'm pretty sure you're overcooking the ribs and it hurts my Southern heart."

Who was having an emotional moment? Not these assholes!

"That's my girl," Dean said with a laugh, and then leaned in to give Arden a paternal hug. "Now that we're done here I'm going over and putting Kraft barbecue sauce on everything. Including the cole slaw."

"I can't believe you're gonna commit a war crime at my birthday party," Arden declared, laughing. "There's the sheriff right there! I can't believe you're gonna make me go to the cops to stop you from committing a war crime at my own birthday party!"

"I'm sorry, I can't hear your complaints over this crap you call music," Dean teased right back.

"They say hearing is the first to go for the elderly," Arden agreed mournfully. "Sorry that I'm listening to music from this generation and not, like, fifty years ago."

Beat.

"That was when the seventies were, by the way."

"I can do math!" Dean snarked back. "I'm very well aware of when the 70's were"

"So how old does that make you, Mr. Mathy Man?" Arden asked. Like a helper.

"Old enough to-"

The retort started off harsh but Dean paused and gave Arden a pat on the shoulder. His tone softened and his smile was genuine.

"Old enough to appreciate the people I have around me."

One more paternal shoulder pat is all you're getting Arden. Dean was exhausted. And there was a chair by the fire and a cooler of beer waiting for him.

Yes, this old man needed to go sit by the fire. Shut up.

Arden blinked at the sudden change in tone, but her smile softened and warmed. "I don't think you have to be a certain age to do that," she said. "I know I sure do. Even the ones that give me toaster ovens and overcook the ribs."

Go on, old man. Settle in and kick your feet up. It's been a hell of a week for you.

Dean rolled his eyes and headed to his spot by the fire. "Those ribs are perfect, Finch. And one day you'll appreciate that toaster oven!"

The Beach: Wednesday Evening

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