Title: Five Pets The Winchesters Almost Had
By:
kellifer_fic
Fandom: SPN
Rating: G
Category: Gen
Words: 922
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: Thanks to my beta *superfox*
~Mr Fish~
Dean was unpacking Sam’s school bag when he paused, holding his little brother’s thermos in hand.
When Sam had left, his thermos has been black and red. The one he held in his hand was a vibrant green. Dean rolled his eyes, shaking the thermos a little and discovering it still full. He wondered why he bothered sometimes. He’d given up the last of the chocolate milk and Sam hadn’t even drunk it.
Dean undid the cap in a couple of annoyed yanks and tipped the thermos into the sink, freezing and staring when water poured out and then a goldfish landed with a wet thwap.
“Christ!” Dean breathed, hooking the plug by the chain and fumbling it into the bottom of the sink and then twisting the cold tap on hard. The fish flopped a couple of times and then finally righted itself and swam around when the water was deep enough.
“Sammy!” Dean barked and his brother came thumping in from the lounge room, taking note of Dean standing over the sink with the upturned thermos with large eyes.
“Mr Fish!” he cried, darting over to the sink and huffing a sigh of relief when he saw the goldfish doing lazy laps.
“You left with milk this morning,” Dean said and Sam looked up at him, shrugging.
“I traded with Jimmy Miller,” he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
“The kid in the blue house down on the corner?” Dean asked and Sam nodded, hooking his elbows over the sink and resting his chin on the edge, watching the goldfish circle.
“Why would he take a fish to school in a thermos?” Dean asked and Sam looked at him, rolling his eyes and said with the grave wisdom of an eight year old,
“How else is he supposed to take a fish to school?”
~Pickles~
“Her name’s Pickles,” Sam said solemnly and Dean eyed him from the doorway, watching the small tortoiseshell cat chew on Sam’s fingers.
“You know we can’t keep her, right?” He hated being the bad guy, but a cat was just not a practical pet for the road.
Hell, he didn’t know if there was an animal that was.
“I know,” Sam sighed, flipping the cat onto its back and scratching its belly. It curled around his hand and attacked his thumb with kitteny glee. “The pet store down the road lets volunteers take animals they haven’t sold yet home on the weekends. Mr Walters said I was pretty young but I looked responsible.”
“Oh, okay,” Dean nodded. “Has she eaten?”
Sam looked up at Dean, a small smile on his face. “Nah. You wanna?” he asked, scooping the kitten up and holding her out to Dean.
~Twinky~
“That rat has got to go,” Dean snarled, stalking into Sam’s room and casting about, finally dropping to his knees and looking under the bed. He reached under and then yelped, pulling back a bloody finger.
“He’s not a rat, he’s a ferret,” Sam snapped, dropping his hand over the side of the bed and a small caramel and white form darted forward, letting itself be scooped up and held against Sam’s chest. “What do you think Twinky did now?”
“He peed in my sleeping bag.”
“He what?” Sam snorted, Dean glaring at the small creature who had left the safety of Sam’s arms and had scuttled up to his shoulder, long body half curled around the back of his neck, glaring back at Dean.
“He didn’t just pee on it either. He unrolled it, got inside, and peed in it.”
Sam broke down into helpless giggles, right up until Dean said, “He did it in Dad’s too.”
~Peter Rabbit~
“No.”
“But-“
“No.”
“Dean, you’re-“
“How many different ways do I have to say no before you get I’m sayin’ no?”
“But you can housetrain them. It won’t mess up the Impala, I swear.”
“Sam, I am not having a… bunny traveling with us. I don’t care how cute he looked sitting in his own food bowl, which by the way sounds like a pretty dumb thing to do to me.”
“I just thought-“
“Did we really need further proof that you are a giant girl?”
“-it’d be fun.”
“Dude, a bunny?”
“Yeah, alright.”
~Untitled~
“So, what do you think?”
“I don’t know. With a new baby and everything…”
John curled into Mary’s side, propping his chin on her shoulder. “The kid’s been great about all this and it’s the only thing he wants for Christmas.”
“I know but-“
“Hon, every little boy should have a dog.”
Mary rolled her eyes, cuffing John on the shoulder. “I think it’s this little boy that wants one,” she said, laughing when John flushed. “Alright, but a small dog.”
“A small one,” John groaned. “You gonna lump our boy with a girl’s dog?”
“No, but I’d prefer not to get one that could fit our Sammy in its jaws,” Mary said, poking John in the ribs. “I know you, you’ll come back with something with huge ears and paws that will grow bigger than a horse.”
“We’ll all go together and vote on a dog. It’ll be a democracy.”
“Like that’s going to be fair,” Mary rolled her eyes.
“You can be Sammy’s proxy. I don’t think he’d old enough to vote yet,” John chuckled, running hands along Mary’s flank, white material against his tan hands.
“Alright. We’ll go tomorrow. I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up watching TV all night.”
“I won’t.”
By:
Fandom: SPN
Rating: G
Category: Gen
Words: 922
Disclaimer: Don't own, don't sue, no money!
Spoilers: None
Notes: Thanks to my beta *superfox*
Dean was unpacking Sam’s school bag when he paused, holding his little brother’s thermos in hand.
When Sam had left, his thermos has been black and red. The one he held in his hand was a vibrant green. Dean rolled his eyes, shaking the thermos a little and discovering it still full. He wondered why he bothered sometimes. He’d given up the last of the chocolate milk and Sam hadn’t even drunk it.
Dean undid the cap in a couple of annoyed yanks and tipped the thermos into the sink, freezing and staring when water poured out and then a goldfish landed with a wet thwap.
“Christ!” Dean breathed, hooking the plug by the chain and fumbling it into the bottom of the sink and then twisting the cold tap on hard. The fish flopped a couple of times and then finally righted itself and swam around when the water was deep enough.
“Sammy!” Dean barked and his brother came thumping in from the lounge room, taking note of Dean standing over the sink with the upturned thermos with large eyes.
“Mr Fish!” he cried, darting over to the sink and huffing a sigh of relief when he saw the goldfish doing lazy laps.
“You left with milk this morning,” Dean said and Sam looked up at him, shrugging.
“I traded with Jimmy Miller,” he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.
“The kid in the blue house down on the corner?” Dean asked and Sam nodded, hooking his elbows over the sink and resting his chin on the edge, watching the goldfish circle.
“Why would he take a fish to school in a thermos?” Dean asked and Sam looked at him, rolling his eyes and said with the grave wisdom of an eight year old,
“How else is he supposed to take a fish to school?”
“Her name’s Pickles,” Sam said solemnly and Dean eyed him from the doorway, watching the small tortoiseshell cat chew on Sam’s fingers.
“You know we can’t keep her, right?” He hated being the bad guy, but a cat was just not a practical pet for the road.
Hell, he didn’t know if there was an animal that was.
“I know,” Sam sighed, flipping the cat onto its back and scratching its belly. It curled around his hand and attacked his thumb with kitteny glee. “The pet store down the road lets volunteers take animals they haven’t sold yet home on the weekends. Mr Walters said I was pretty young but I looked responsible.”
“Oh, okay,” Dean nodded. “Has she eaten?”
Sam looked up at Dean, a small smile on his face. “Nah. You wanna?” he asked, scooping the kitten up and holding her out to Dean.
“That rat has got to go,” Dean snarled, stalking into Sam’s room and casting about, finally dropping to his knees and looking under the bed. He reached under and then yelped, pulling back a bloody finger.
“He’s not a rat, he’s a ferret,” Sam snapped, dropping his hand over the side of the bed and a small caramel and white form darted forward, letting itself be scooped up and held against Sam’s chest. “What do you think Twinky did now?”
“He peed in my sleeping bag.”
“He what?” Sam snorted, Dean glaring at the small creature who had left the safety of Sam’s arms and had scuttled up to his shoulder, long body half curled around the back of his neck, glaring back at Dean.
“He didn’t just pee on it either. He unrolled it, got inside, and peed in it.”
Sam broke down into helpless giggles, right up until Dean said, “He did it in Dad’s too.”
“No.”
“But-“
“No.”
“Dean, you’re-“
“How many different ways do I have to say no before you get I’m sayin’ no?”
“But you can housetrain them. It won’t mess up the Impala, I swear.”
“Sam, I am not having a… bunny traveling with us. I don’t care how cute he looked sitting in his own food bowl, which by the way sounds like a pretty dumb thing to do to me.”
“I just thought-“
“Did we really need further proof that you are a giant girl?”
“-it’d be fun.”
“Dude, a bunny?”
“Yeah, alright.”
“So, what do you think?”
“I don’t know. With a new baby and everything…”
John curled into Mary’s side, propping his chin on her shoulder. “The kid’s been great about all this and it’s the only thing he wants for Christmas.”
“I know but-“
“Hon, every little boy should have a dog.”
Mary rolled her eyes, cuffing John on the shoulder. “I think it’s this little boy that wants one,” she said, laughing when John flushed. “Alright, but a small dog.”
“A small one,” John groaned. “You gonna lump our boy with a girl’s dog?”
“No, but I’d prefer not to get one that could fit our Sammy in its jaws,” Mary said, poking John in the ribs. “I know you, you’ll come back with something with huge ears and paws that will grow bigger than a horse.”
“We’ll all go together and vote on a dog. It’ll be a democracy.”
“Like that’s going to be fair,” Mary rolled her eyes.
“You can be Sammy’s proxy. I don’t think he’d old enough to vote yet,” John chuckled, running hands along Mary’s flank, white material against his tan hands.
“Alright. We’ll go tomorrow. I’m going to bed. Don’t stay up watching TV all night.”
“I won’t.”
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Great stuff, as always!
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