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Illegal Tender
(GG) First time Dean Forester builds a car
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oxoniensis
461 words.
--
“I love you.”
“Excuse me?”
Dean spins and sees Gypsy behind him, wiping off her hands on a rag and looking at him with that incredulous expression she always seems to be wearing lately. It kind of settled into place when Dean announced he was building a car and stayed.
“N-nothing,” Dean stammers, trying to find safe harbour back under the hood of the baby-blue car that has become his conduit, a place to pour his emotions because he’s pretty sure he’s a little too young to be feeling so intensely about a girl. His mom and dad keep looking at him with worried eyes. His dad had started to say something along the lines of “You’re too young to-,” when Dean escaped the house that morning.
“Really? Because it sounds like you were telling the car you love it.” Gypsy impressed him with her no-nonsense attitude but sometimes her unwillingness to pretend something didn’t happen to spare embarrassment was a little infuriating.
“I wasn’t… I was just… practicing.”
“Right,” Gypsy says, an eyebrow now rising to go with the look. “For when you want to formally tell the car you love it.”
“It’s not… I’m not… “ Dean comes back out from under the hood, not before smacking his temple on the underside and then flails his hands. “Can I give you money to stop talking?”
“You’d be amazed to find out that that is not the first time someone has offered to pay me,” Gypsy says waggling a spanner and Dean shakes his head.
“Not really, no.”
“Ooh,” Gypsy says, smacking herself on the forehead, unluckily with the hand free of a spanner. “You’re practicing for Rory.”
“I will give you a million dollars if you will shut up now,” Dean begs. He’s wondering if there would be enough space for him in the boot and if he could possibly hide in it forever. Of course, considering there is yet to be a boot, it’s a bit of a moot point.
“You don’t have a million bucks,” Gypsy accuses. “You’re paying me in Doose Dollars.”
“About that,” Dean says slowly, rubbing at the sore place on his forehead. “Taylor is saying that he stopped honouring those in nineteen ninety two and that Lorelai made them anyway.” Dean pauses to chuckle for a second. Apparently the whole Doose Dollars scam went on unnoticed for six weeks.
“Don’t think you’re too big for me to tip upside down and shake until money falls out,” Gypsy warns, waggling the spanner at him again and then disappears back into the piles of abandoned parts and car shells.
Dean looks up at the sky, breathes in and says, “I love you, Rory.”
Two days, he thinks. Only two more days until he can tell her.
--
Sports Fan
(SPN) Dean Winchester's First Kill
Forsgflutegirl
196 words.
--
“Missy Wagner.”
Sam just looks across the bench seat at him for a moment, blinking. Dean hates when Sam does that because he looks like a drowning guppy. “What?”
“I said first kill,” Sam says slowly, blowing his bangs off his forehead for emphasis.
“Oh right,” Dean says, smacking a palm against the steering wheel. “Sorry, thought you said kiss.” He scrunches up his face in thought for a moment and then grins. “Laura Denney then.”
“What?”
“Laura Denney,” Dean repeats, raising an eyebrow. “Now what?”
“Are you speaking metaphorically?”
“No.”
“That’s not some weird way of alluding to-” Sam gestures with his hands and Dean’s not sure what he’s alluding to.
“My first kill. Laura Denney.”
“But,” Sam’s frown is epic. “She was your girlfriend when you were twelve.”
“Ah,” Dean says, holding up an imperious finger. “She was also a succubus that was praying on your school’s soccer team. Why do you think Dad wouldn’t let you go out for it when we moved?”
“I… didn’t… what?” Sam practically screeches and Dean winces and then rubs at the ear closest to Sam.
“We shouldn’t play this game,” Dean says sagely. “You always get upset.”
(GG) First time Dean Forester builds a car
For
oxoniensis461 words.
--
“I love you.”
“Excuse me?”
Dean spins and sees Gypsy behind him, wiping off her hands on a rag and looking at him with that incredulous expression she always seems to be wearing lately. It kind of settled into place when Dean announced he was building a car and stayed.
“N-nothing,” Dean stammers, trying to find safe harbour back under the hood of the baby-blue car that has become his conduit, a place to pour his emotions because he’s pretty sure he’s a little too young to be feeling so intensely about a girl. His mom and dad keep looking at him with worried eyes. His dad had started to say something along the lines of “You’re too young to-,” when Dean escaped the house that morning.
“Really? Because it sounds like you were telling the car you love it.” Gypsy impressed him with her no-nonsense attitude but sometimes her unwillingness to pretend something didn’t happen to spare embarrassment was a little infuriating.
“I wasn’t… I was just… practicing.”
“Right,” Gypsy says, an eyebrow now rising to go with the look. “For when you want to formally tell the car you love it.”
“It’s not… I’m not… “ Dean comes back out from under the hood, not before smacking his temple on the underside and then flails his hands. “Can I give you money to stop talking?”
“You’d be amazed to find out that that is not the first time someone has offered to pay me,” Gypsy says waggling a spanner and Dean shakes his head.
“Not really, no.”
“Ooh,” Gypsy says, smacking herself on the forehead, unluckily with the hand free of a spanner. “You’re practicing for Rory.”
“I will give you a million dollars if you will shut up now,” Dean begs. He’s wondering if there would be enough space for him in the boot and if he could possibly hide in it forever. Of course, considering there is yet to be a boot, it’s a bit of a moot point.
“You don’t have a million bucks,” Gypsy accuses. “You’re paying me in Doose Dollars.”
“About that,” Dean says slowly, rubbing at the sore place on his forehead. “Taylor is saying that he stopped honouring those in nineteen ninety two and that Lorelai made them anyway.” Dean pauses to chuckle for a second. Apparently the whole Doose Dollars scam went on unnoticed for six weeks.
“Don’t think you’re too big for me to tip upside down and shake until money falls out,” Gypsy warns, waggling the spanner at him again and then disappears back into the piles of abandoned parts and car shells.
Dean looks up at the sky, breathes in and says, “I love you, Rory.”
Two days, he thinks. Only two more days until he can tell her.
--
Sports Fan
(SPN) Dean Winchester's First Kill
For
sgflutegirl196 words.
--
“Missy Wagner.”
Sam just looks across the bench seat at him for a moment, blinking. Dean hates when Sam does that because he looks like a drowning guppy. “What?”
“I said first kill,” Sam says slowly, blowing his bangs off his forehead for emphasis.
“Oh right,” Dean says, smacking a palm against the steering wheel. “Sorry, thought you said kiss.” He scrunches up his face in thought for a moment and then grins. “Laura Denney then.”
“What?”
“Laura Denney,” Dean repeats, raising an eyebrow. “Now what?”
“Are you speaking metaphorically?”
“No.”
“That’s not some weird way of alluding to-” Sam gestures with his hands and Dean’s not sure what he’s alluding to.
“My first kill. Laura Denney.”
“But,” Sam’s frown is epic. “She was your girlfriend when you were twelve.”
“Ah,” Dean says, holding up an imperious finger. “She was also a succubus that was praying on your school’s soccer team. Why do you think Dad wouldn’t let you go out for it when we moved?”
“I… didn’t… what?” Sam practically screeches and Dean winces and then rubs at the ear closest to Sam.
“We shouldn’t play this game,” Dean says sagely. “You always get upset.”
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Oh, that's funny. I can just hear his voice.