Men are dicks.

That's the conclusion you come to as you all but drag yourself down the street.

Your date had stood you up. You'd sat in the restaurant alone for an hour, and he didn't show. You were pissed—rightfully so—as you made your way home.

Just as the night couldn't get any worse, you feel the first drops of rain. You feel like bawling.

Just as the tears are about to spill, you hear the familiar rumble of an engine, and a kind face in the car window as the glass rolls down.

"You need a ride?"

Jensen smiles gently. They sure don't make 'em like that anymore.