SPN/HP fic--Snipe Hunt
Fandom: SPN/HP
Title: Snipe Hunt
Author: alphabet26
Pairings/Characters: Dean, Sam, OMC
Rating: PG
Category: Gen
Word Count: 800ish
Spoilers: No spoilers, takes place during season 1.
Summary: Sam frowned as he considered that. "Well, I guess it could be a side effect, but I can't think of any creatures that erase memory."
Notes/Warnings: Written for prompts 3, 4, 5, and 6 for found_fic_spn. Yay for amnesty month! Plus, there's a reference to MST3K in there that I didn't realize at first, but couldn't bear to get rid of. Also, it's a crossover with the Harry Potter universe. So you know you've gotta be intrigued by now!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
*****
As a general rule, Sam had a shark-like focus while researching. No matter how he bitched in the leading up to the research, once he started, he gave it his all and didn't stop until he had the answers.
And he hadn't been bitching here. Dean had given in and they'd gone on this hunt for a suspected wampus cat instead of the one Dean'd suggested ( bloodstains shaped like dogs or wolves or whatever don't just happen naturally), so Sam was into solving this one.
Dean was counting on that, because his day out among the good people of Knoxville had been spectacularly unsuccessful.
So when Dean got back to the hotel to find Sam buried not in research, but in some paperback novel, he didn't bother to hide his annoyance.
"Dude. The hell?" Dean demanded.
Sam blinked, looked at the book in his hand, then back up at Dean. "I don't know. I was researching and then...I remembered John Grisham had a new book out."
Dean stared at him, irritation replaced with genuine surprise. "Seriously?"
Sam shrugged helplessly.
It was too stupid a reason not to be the truth. Dean sighed. " Freaking a, this job blows. We have nothing solid to go on."
"Nothing? What did you get from the people?"
"Nothing, like I said."
"What?"
"Oh, yeah. It's all a blank. Everything. For all of them."
Sam frowned as he considered that. "Well, I guess it could be a side effect, but I can't think of any creatures that erase memory."
"Well, if you're done being overcome by John Grisham's prose, we can try actually researching this time."
Sam rolled his eyes, but pulled his laptop back in front of him.
***
"Ha, I was right! This book does have an index listing for armlocks!" Dean exclaimed.
"No way. There are seriously enough things out there that use armlocks to merit an index?"
Dean slid the tome over.
Sam huffed out a chuckle. "How did we even get on this tangent, anyway?"
Dean blinked. "I don't know. How much time have we wasted?"
Sam glanced at the clock. "A couple of hours."
"And you wasted the whole morning..."
"You didn't get much done this morning, either," Sam reminded him.
"Not my fault, I was trying."
"I was trying, too, but--" Sam cut himself off. "No, we're not losing focus this time."
The door swung open at that.
They both had their guns aimed as they turned towards the intruder.
"Oh, there's no need for any of that," the middle-aged man holding a stick said pleasantly as he stepped inside.
Dean caught Sam's eye as the guy crossed the salt line with no ill effects. Sam shrugged.
"What do you want?" Dean asked.
"Well, for you two to lower your weapons, but I supposed that's too much to ask at the moment." The man sat down on Dean's bed. "My name is Brankovitch and I'm from the KMPD." He flashed a badge.
Dean caught Sam's eye again and raised an eyebrow. Sam shook his head.
Brankovitch gave them a knowing look. "No, seriously, it's fine. You don't have to worry about any more attacks to the Muggles of this town. We're taking care of it."
"You're a hunter?" Dean asked in disbelief.
"Muggles?" Sam asked at the same time.
Brankovitch looked startled. "Hunter? Oh, no! More like a police officer. And, er, Muggles is a term meaning people. It slipped out there, I beg your pardon."
"Why don't you explain a little bit more?" Dean suggested. They'd both lowered, though not released, their guns.
Brankovitch seemed to consider it. "All right. The creature that you're looking for is called a clabbert."
Sam shook his head. "Never heard of it."
"Well, I don't know that you would have. Only wizards know about them, after all."
There was a long silence.
"Sorry?" Sam asked.
"Wizards." Brankovitch looked at them hopefully, then shrugged. "Well, despite the fact that you're both pretty good at shrugging off my Muggle-Repelling charms, you're both clearly Muggles, so you need to stay out of this. Let the professionals handle it."
Dean finally got it. The poor guy was crazy. He must have been attacked, too. Maybe hallucinations were another side effect? Sam'd figure it out. But in the meantime...
Brankovitch saw him inching over. "You won't remember this, but I am sorry." He waved his stick. "Obliviate!"
***
"I can't believe it was just a freaking mountain lion," Dean grumbled as they drove out of town. "I'm choosing the next hunt and no whining from you."
Sam shrugged. "Fine. But don't you feel like something was off about this? Like it was too easy?"
Dean considered it. "Nope, all I've got is this feeling that cops suck."
Sam rolled his eyes and groaned as Dean turned on the radio.
*****
Any and all feedback appreciated.
Title: Snipe Hunt
Author: alphabet26
Pairings/Characters: Dean, Sam, OMC
Rating: PG
Category: Gen
Word Count: 800ish
Spoilers: No spoilers, takes place during season 1.
Summary: Sam frowned as he considered that. "Well, I guess it could be a side effect, but I can't think of any creatures that erase memory."
Notes/Warnings: Written for prompts 3, 4, 5, and 6 for found_fic_spn. Yay for amnesty month! Plus, there's a reference to MST3K in there that I didn't realize at first, but couldn't bear to get rid of. Also, it's a crossover with the Harry Potter universe. So you know you've gotta be intrigued by now!
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
*****
As a general rule, Sam had a shark-like focus while researching. No matter how he bitched in the leading up to the research, once he started, he gave it his all and didn't stop until he had the answers.
And he hadn't been bitching here. Dean had given in and they'd gone on this hunt for a suspected wampus cat instead of the one Dean'd suggested ( bloodstains shaped like dogs or wolves or whatever don't just happen naturally), so Sam was into solving this one.
Dean was counting on that, because his day out among the good people of Knoxville had been spectacularly unsuccessful.
So when Dean got back to the hotel to find Sam buried not in research, but in some paperback novel, he didn't bother to hide his annoyance.
"Dude. The hell?" Dean demanded.
Sam blinked, looked at the book in his hand, then back up at Dean. "I don't know. I was researching and then...I remembered John Grisham had a new book out."
Dean stared at him, irritation replaced with genuine surprise. "Seriously?"
Sam shrugged helplessly.
It was too stupid a reason not to be the truth. Dean sighed. " Freaking a, this job blows. We have nothing solid to go on."
"Nothing? What did you get from the people?"
"Nothing, like I said."
"What?"
"Oh, yeah. It's all a blank. Everything. For all of them."
Sam frowned as he considered that. "Well, I guess it could be a side effect, but I can't think of any creatures that erase memory."
"Well, if you're done being overcome by John Grisham's prose, we can try actually researching this time."
Sam rolled his eyes, but pulled his laptop back in front of him.
***
"Ha, I was right! This book does have an index listing for armlocks!" Dean exclaimed.
"No way. There are seriously enough things out there that use armlocks to merit an index?"
Dean slid the tome over.
Sam huffed out a chuckle. "How did we even get on this tangent, anyway?"
Dean blinked. "I don't know. How much time have we wasted?"
Sam glanced at the clock. "A couple of hours."
"And you wasted the whole morning..."
"You didn't get much done this morning, either," Sam reminded him.
"Not my fault, I was trying."
"I was trying, too, but--" Sam cut himself off. "No, we're not losing focus this time."
The door swung open at that.
They both had their guns aimed as they turned towards the intruder.
"Oh, there's no need for any of that," the middle-aged man holding a stick said pleasantly as he stepped inside.
Dean caught Sam's eye as the guy crossed the salt line with no ill effects. Sam shrugged.
"What do you want?" Dean asked.
"Well, for you two to lower your weapons, but I supposed that's too much to ask at the moment." The man sat down on Dean's bed. "My name is Brankovitch and I'm from the KMPD." He flashed a badge.
Dean caught Sam's eye again and raised an eyebrow. Sam shook his head.
Brankovitch gave them a knowing look. "No, seriously, it's fine. You don't have to worry about any more attacks to the Muggles of this town. We're taking care of it."
"You're a hunter?" Dean asked in disbelief.
"Muggles?" Sam asked at the same time.
Brankovitch looked startled. "Hunter? Oh, no! More like a police officer. And, er, Muggles is a term meaning people. It slipped out there, I beg your pardon."
"Why don't you explain a little bit more?" Dean suggested. They'd both lowered, though not released, their guns.
Brankovitch seemed to consider it. "All right. The creature that you're looking for is called a clabbert."
Sam shook his head. "Never heard of it."
"Well, I don't know that you would have. Only wizards know about them, after all."
There was a long silence.
"Sorry?" Sam asked.
"Wizards." Brankovitch looked at them hopefully, then shrugged. "Well, despite the fact that you're both pretty good at shrugging off my Muggle-Repelling charms, you're both clearly Muggles, so you need to stay out of this. Let the professionals handle it."
Dean finally got it. The poor guy was crazy. He must have been attacked, too. Maybe hallucinations were another side effect? Sam'd figure it out. But in the meantime...
Brankovitch saw him inching over. "You won't remember this, but I am sorry." He waved his stick. "Obliviate!"
***
"I can't believe it was just a freaking mountain lion," Dean grumbled as they drove out of town. "I'm choosing the next hunt and no whining from you."
Sam shrugged. "Fine. But don't you feel like something was off about this? Like it was too easy?"
Dean considered it. "Nope, all I've got is this feeling that cops suck."
Sam rolled his eyes and groaned as Dean turned on the radio.
*****
Any and all feedback appreciated.