SPN + Due South flashfic
Feb. 22nd, 2008 06:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chase_acow
I don't know quite how it happened, especially since I've owned the DVD sets for over a year now, but I just found an ep I hadn't seen. The season 3/4 Christmas ep, yeah, I thought it was just the fannish hive mind that kept the secret santa fics going around. It's really neat to see a new (to me) episode. I love RayK.
Samuel Colt first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father. For reasons that don’t particularly need exploring at this juncture, he remained attached as liaison officer to the Canadian Consulate. Some people postulate that he sticks around for his hot-ass partner in the police department - Dean Winchester. Actually, the second Dean Winchester as the first one left rather unexpectedly.
PG
1000 words
Sam/Dean preslash
2.
“I hate you right now.”
“If you’d like to change places, I wouldn’t mind.”
Before Sam, Dean could have counted on one hand his number of near death experiences. After Sam, he’d need his fingers, toes, and the fingers and toes of Jo, Ash, and his fake sister Bela. It must be a vacation for the original Dean Winchester, rubbing noses with the mob away from Sam’s bizarre life threatening idiosyncrasies.
“You’ve got the better side of this deal,” Sam continued, a small grunt the only sign that he was doing something more difficult that standing guard in front of the Consulate.
Dean glared up at Sam, “Hey! It’s my face in your crotch!”
“And it’s my shoulders holding up both up,” Sam said conversationally as if they were talking about the wolf, the Bulls, or the goddamn weather instead of holding on for dear life. “You know, Dean, and I don’t mean to be critical, but you could stand to lose a few pounds.”
On principle, Dean started squirming forcing Sam to clench his thighs tighter under his armpits and around his torso. “I can’t believe you’re callin’ me fat, Sam,” Dean yelled, his voice echoing down the mine shaft they were currently dangling in. “I swear to God, we get outta this and I’m gonna kick you in the head so hard.”
“Well, first you’d have to reach it.”
“Ha, ha,” Dean said dryly, his legs going slack as he reached up tucked his hands into Sam’s belt. The red serge scratched his face and the heels of Sam’s boot were digging into his lower spine. “Don’t quit your day job.”
Truthfully, he didn’t actually mind having his face inches from Sam’s crotch as much as not being able to do much about it. After several months of partnership, not even certain death had much affect on his libido, and he now knew how uncomfortable it was dangling with a hard on.
“This is really neither the place or the time for that conversation.”
Dean squinted up seeing Sam head tilted straight back so that all Dean could see was a long line of throat framed by the rim of his Stetson. “I didn’t say anything,” Dean yelled annoyed.
“Oh, I wasn’t talking to you, Dean,” Sam said, glancing down at him.
“Then who the hell were you talking to?” Dean asked, and then felt hope rising in his chest. “Is there someone up there? Help! Chicago PD! Help!”
“Dean.”
“Help!”
“Dean.”
“We’re stuck down here!”
“Dean.”
“What?”
“No one can hear you screaming,” Sam said gently, adjusting his legs around Dean so that his boots weren’t about to cut Dean’s spinal cord in half. “Just relax.”
“Relax, yeah right,” Dean muttered, every time he tried to relax, he let his head rest on Sam’s thigh, and that just was not acceptable. “This isn’t outer space.”
Sam grunted and shifted his arms into a more comfortable position, anchoring them above what would have been a fatal drop. He tucked his chin down so he could look at Dean while he spoke. “We’re approximately ten miles away from the closest road deep in a national forest. No one knew our destination and Lieutenant Singer won’t miss us for six hours. The only other humans in these woods are the counterfeiters, and I don’t think I need to tell you that it would be a bad idea for them to find us.”
“So what do we do, hang out until the end of days?”
“It’s very unlikely that I’ll be able to keep my grip for that long. But Dief should be bringing someone along shortly,” Sam said, he cleared his throat. “Dean, as long as we’ve nothing better to do…”
“No.”
“No what?” Sam asked, his confusion evident in his voice. “I didn’t say anything.”
“No, I know what you’re going to say,” Dean said, sighing. “Every time we’re in this situation, which is what, about once a day now?”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Don’t interrupt me, Sam,” Dean yelled, irritation flaring in his belly. “Anyway, you get mushy, I get mushy, then ten seconds later we get rescued and have this chick flick thing hanging over our heads for the rest of the case. Well, I‘m not doing it this time!”
Silence.
“Look, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“It’s all right,” Sam said softly, and Dean knew that if his hands had been free, Sam would have been tugging a piece of his hair behind his ear. “I know that I exasperate you sometimes. I‘m sorry I insinuated you were fat.”
“Yeah, and I exhaust you too,” Dean said, feeling bad that he made Sam use that tone of voice.
Sam’s thighs were starting to tremble slightly at the strain of holding Dean’s weight. “Well, that’s certainly true,” he said, and finally Dean could hear the smile back in his voice. “Wait, do you hear that?”
“What is it? A caterpillar crawling across a leaf at a hundred yards?” Dean teased, wrapping his arms tighter around Sam’s hips.
“Now you’re just being facetious.”
“Fa-what?” Dean asked, hating when Sam came out with those big words he didn’t know the meaning of. He shook his head, thinking maybe that his ears had started ringing, “Hey, do you hear that?”
“Indeed,” Sam said, “Sirens. I think we’re about to be rescued.”
“You know, Sammy, I take back all the times I said you didn’t have anything under that hat but hair.”
“Thank you.”
Dean chewed on his bottom lip for a second until he could hear the sirens better, “Hey, you wanna come over for dinner tonight?”
“Huh,” Sam said and glanced down, “Well, I believe my dance card is empty.”
“Who said anything about dancing?”
“It’s just a figure of speech, Dean,” Sam soothed.
“Ah,” Dean said, and was quiet until the first sounds of a car door slamming startled him. “We could dance if you wanted too.”
“Sounds like fun. I’ll be there with bells on.”
“Bells?”
1. SCC + SPN
Samuel Colt first came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father. For reasons that don’t particularly need exploring at this juncture, he remained attached as liaison officer to the Canadian Consulate. Some people postulate that he sticks around for his hot-ass partner in the police department - Dean Winchester. Actually, the second Dean Winchester as the first one left rather unexpectedly.
PG
1000 words
Sam/Dean preslash
2.
“I hate you right now.”
“If you’d like to change places, I wouldn’t mind.”
Before Sam, Dean could have counted on one hand his number of near death experiences. After Sam, he’d need his fingers, toes, and the fingers and toes of Jo, Ash, and his fake sister Bela. It must be a vacation for the original Dean Winchester, rubbing noses with the mob away from Sam’s bizarre life threatening idiosyncrasies.
“You’ve got the better side of this deal,” Sam continued, a small grunt the only sign that he was doing something more difficult that standing guard in front of the Consulate.
Dean glared up at Sam, “Hey! It’s my face in your crotch!”
“And it’s my shoulders holding up both up,” Sam said conversationally as if they were talking about the wolf, the Bulls, or the goddamn weather instead of holding on for dear life. “You know, Dean, and I don’t mean to be critical, but you could stand to lose a few pounds.”
On principle, Dean started squirming forcing Sam to clench his thighs tighter under his armpits and around his torso. “I can’t believe you’re callin’ me fat, Sam,” Dean yelled, his voice echoing down the mine shaft they were currently dangling in. “I swear to God, we get outta this and I’m gonna kick you in the head so hard.”
“Well, first you’d have to reach it.”
“Ha, ha,” Dean said dryly, his legs going slack as he reached up tucked his hands into Sam’s belt. The red serge scratched his face and the heels of Sam’s boot were digging into his lower spine. “Don’t quit your day job.”
Truthfully, he didn’t actually mind having his face inches from Sam’s crotch as much as not being able to do much about it. After several months of partnership, not even certain death had much affect on his libido, and he now knew how uncomfortable it was dangling with a hard on.
“This is really neither the place or the time for that conversation.”
Dean squinted up seeing Sam head tilted straight back so that all Dean could see was a long line of throat framed by the rim of his Stetson. “I didn’t say anything,” Dean yelled annoyed.
“Oh, I wasn’t talking to you, Dean,” Sam said, glancing down at him.
“Then who the hell were you talking to?” Dean asked, and then felt hope rising in his chest. “Is there someone up there? Help! Chicago PD! Help!”
“Dean.”
“Help!”
“Dean.”
“We’re stuck down here!”
“Dean.”
“What?”
“No one can hear you screaming,” Sam said gently, adjusting his legs around Dean so that his boots weren’t about to cut Dean’s spinal cord in half. “Just relax.”
“Relax, yeah right,” Dean muttered, every time he tried to relax, he let his head rest on Sam’s thigh, and that just was not acceptable. “This isn’t outer space.”
Sam grunted and shifted his arms into a more comfortable position, anchoring them above what would have been a fatal drop. He tucked his chin down so he could look at Dean while he spoke. “We’re approximately ten miles away from the closest road deep in a national forest. No one knew our destination and Lieutenant Singer won’t miss us for six hours. The only other humans in these woods are the counterfeiters, and I don’t think I need to tell you that it would be a bad idea for them to find us.”
“So what do we do, hang out until the end of days?”
“It’s very unlikely that I’ll be able to keep my grip for that long. But Dief should be bringing someone along shortly,” Sam said, he cleared his throat. “Dean, as long as we’ve nothing better to do…”
“No.”
“No what?” Sam asked, his confusion evident in his voice. “I didn’t say anything.”
“No, I know what you’re going to say,” Dean said, sighing. “Every time we’re in this situation, which is what, about once a day now?”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Don’t interrupt me, Sam,” Dean yelled, irritation flaring in his belly. “Anyway, you get mushy, I get mushy, then ten seconds later we get rescued and have this chick flick thing hanging over our heads for the rest of the case. Well, I‘m not doing it this time!”
Silence.
“Look, I didn’t mean to yell at you.”
“It’s all right,” Sam said softly, and Dean knew that if his hands had been free, Sam would have been tugging a piece of his hair behind his ear. “I know that I exasperate you sometimes. I‘m sorry I insinuated you were fat.”
“Yeah, and I exhaust you too,” Dean said, feeling bad that he made Sam use that tone of voice.
Sam’s thighs were starting to tremble slightly at the strain of holding Dean’s weight. “Well, that’s certainly true,” he said, and finally Dean could hear the smile back in his voice. “Wait, do you hear that?”
“What is it? A caterpillar crawling across a leaf at a hundred yards?” Dean teased, wrapping his arms tighter around Sam’s hips.
“Now you’re just being facetious.”
“Fa-what?” Dean asked, hating when Sam came out with those big words he didn’t know the meaning of. He shook his head, thinking maybe that his ears had started ringing, “Hey, do you hear that?”
“Indeed,” Sam said, “Sirens. I think we’re about to be rescued.”
“You know, Sammy, I take back all the times I said you didn’t have anything under that hat but hair.”
“Thank you.”
Dean chewed on his bottom lip for a second until he could hear the sirens better, “Hey, you wanna come over for dinner tonight?”
“Huh,” Sam said and glanced down, “Well, I believe my dance card is empty.”
“Who said anything about dancing?”
“It’s just a figure of speech, Dean,” Sam soothed.
“Ah,” Dean said, and was quiet until the first sounds of a car door slamming startled him. “We could dance if you wanted too.”
“Sounds like fun. I’ll be there with bells on.”
“Bells?”
1. SCC + SPN
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no subject
Date: 2008-02-24 12:16 am (UTC)seriously
amazing
and you have completely captured their voices w/in sam and dean and amazingly just..yeah...i'm babbling but yay! *hugs*
no subject
Date: 2008-02-25 05:23 pm (UTC)Actually, I just really liked the idea of Sam standing sentry in front of the consulate with the hat on. : )
Thanks!