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Title: Wackiness Ensues
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Rating: G
Category: SPN Gen
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 654
Summary: The boys have to get their hands on a Chaos demon.
Dean was pretty sure he hit a point every single day where he swore he was going to kill Sam.
Today it was because he was wearing coveralls, it was approximately eleven million degrees and he was poking around in an attic with the windows painted shut. If he didn’t melt first, he was going to strangle Sam with his bare hands.
“Find it?” Sam called from the bottom of the retractable ladder leading up to the attic. Dean took a moment to wipe the back of his hand over his forehead and quash the rising tide of righteous fury. He needed beer, a cold shower and to smother Sam with a pillow, preferably that he’d first farted on. Feeling buoyed by the plans he’d made for the afternoon, Dean called out, “No!”
“What’s taking so long?”
Dean slowly stood, as much as he could with the roof at a sloping angle and gritted his teeth. Smothering Sam had been bumped up to top priority over beer which was an achievement. “You wanna get your ass up here and help me?” Dean snapped.
“Nah,” Sam called back and Dean blinked. He went back to the task at hand, opening and closing boxes and trunks, nose itchy from the dust. His dad had always said to count backwards from ten and if you hit one and still wanted to kill a guy, he probably deserved it. Dean was at two when Sam’s head appeared through the trap door.
“C’mon Dean, seriously. It shouldn’t be taking this long.”
“This woman has thousands upon thousands of pieces of crap up here. I’d like to see you find the damn thing faster,” Dean snapped and then turned around with his mouth open when Sam pulled himself up halfway through the trap door, reached behind a stack of boxes Dean had already checked and pulled something dark blue and wriggling free.
Sam raised his eyebrows.
“Can you divorce a sibling?” Dean grumbled, wiping his hands off on an antique looking something or other and moving over to Sam. He hunkered down and watched Sam shove the squirming thing into a canvas bag they’d brought and twist the top closed.
“Well, the lady won’t have flickering lights and dancing appliances anymore,” Sam said with a grin. “And we have what we needed.”
“Cool. Think we can charge her?”
“She’s made us lemon bars,” Sam said and Dean rolled his eyes.
“How about we make tracks? The sooner we get this thing to Missouri the better.”
“Okay, fine,” Sam said, sounding disappointed and Dean felt a tiny bit better.
000
“I thought these things were always in groups,” Dean said, shaking the bag he was carrying out to the car. The bag snarled and Dean tossed it at Sam who juggled it for a second before getting a good hold, shooting Dean a pissy look.
“Careful, geez,” Sam said. “We don’t want this thing coming into contact with anything we own.”
“Why not?” Dean asked, catching the bag when it was tossed back in his direction. Sam was digging the Impala keys out of his pocket and Dean was damned if Sam was going to be driving after the day he’d had.
“Give me the keys gigantor,” Dean said, tossing the bag at Sam’s head this time. It missed when Sam managed to drop the car keys at the exact same moment and had stooped to pick them up. Dean watched the sack hit the hood of the Impala, come open and the little blue Chaos demon come tumbling out. A splash of bright pink followed its path across his car’s finish and Dean stopped dead.
“That’s why,” Sam said, pointing at the once-black Impala as the pink spread over the whole body, the tires filling in lavender.
“Can you… just… kick me in the head till I pass out?” Dean asked. “I think it’ll be less painful than seeing that.”
Author:
kellifer_ficRating: G
Category: SPN Gen
Warnings: None
Wordcount: 654
Summary: The boys have to get their hands on a Chaos demon.
Dean was pretty sure he hit a point every single day where he swore he was going to kill Sam.
Today it was because he was wearing coveralls, it was approximately eleven million degrees and he was poking around in an attic with the windows painted shut. If he didn’t melt first, he was going to strangle Sam with his bare hands.
“Find it?” Sam called from the bottom of the retractable ladder leading up to the attic. Dean took a moment to wipe the back of his hand over his forehead and quash the rising tide of righteous fury. He needed beer, a cold shower and to smother Sam with a pillow, preferably that he’d first farted on. Feeling buoyed by the plans he’d made for the afternoon, Dean called out, “No!”
“What’s taking so long?”
Dean slowly stood, as much as he could with the roof at a sloping angle and gritted his teeth. Smothering Sam had been bumped up to top priority over beer which was an achievement. “You wanna get your ass up here and help me?” Dean snapped.
“Nah,” Sam called back and Dean blinked. He went back to the task at hand, opening and closing boxes and trunks, nose itchy from the dust. His dad had always said to count backwards from ten and if you hit one and still wanted to kill a guy, he probably deserved it. Dean was at two when Sam’s head appeared through the trap door.
“C’mon Dean, seriously. It shouldn’t be taking this long.”
“This woman has thousands upon thousands of pieces of crap up here. I’d like to see you find the damn thing faster,” Dean snapped and then turned around with his mouth open when Sam pulled himself up halfway through the trap door, reached behind a stack of boxes Dean had already checked and pulled something dark blue and wriggling free.
Sam raised his eyebrows.
“Can you divorce a sibling?” Dean grumbled, wiping his hands off on an antique looking something or other and moving over to Sam. He hunkered down and watched Sam shove the squirming thing into a canvas bag they’d brought and twist the top closed.
“Well, the lady won’t have flickering lights and dancing appliances anymore,” Sam said with a grin. “And we have what we needed.”
“Cool. Think we can charge her?”
“She’s made us lemon bars,” Sam said and Dean rolled his eyes.
“How about we make tracks? The sooner we get this thing to Missouri the better.”
“Okay, fine,” Sam said, sounding disappointed and Dean felt a tiny bit better.
“I thought these things were always in groups,” Dean said, shaking the bag he was carrying out to the car. The bag snarled and Dean tossed it at Sam who juggled it for a second before getting a good hold, shooting Dean a pissy look.
“Careful, geez,” Sam said. “We don’t want this thing coming into contact with anything we own.”
“Why not?” Dean asked, catching the bag when it was tossed back in his direction. Sam was digging the Impala keys out of his pocket and Dean was damned if Sam was going to be driving after the day he’d had.
“Give me the keys gigantor,” Dean said, tossing the bag at Sam’s head this time. It missed when Sam managed to drop the car keys at the exact same moment and had stooped to pick them up. Dean watched the sack hit the hood of the Impala, come open and the little blue Chaos demon come tumbling out. A splash of bright pink followed its path across his car’s finish and Dean stopped dead.
“That’s why,” Sam said, pointing at the once-black Impala as the pink spread over the whole body, the tires filling in lavender.
“Can you… just… kick me in the head till I pass out?” Dean asked. “I think it’ll be less painful than seeing that.”