Fic: Watchers
Title: Watchers
Author: brate7
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: Gen, G
Word Count: 480
Summary: Just a night at the motel.
Watchers
By Brate
The motel room was quiet save for the hushed voices from the television. Dean was watching from his sprawled position across one bed, chin resting against a bunched up pillow squeezed between his arms. Sam sat on his own bed, reading a battered copy of a Dean Koontz book, his knee propped up by his and Dean's extra pillows, with a slowly melting bag of ice resting against it.
Breaking the status quo, Dean muttered, "I don't know."
Sam paused, a finger marking his place. When no other comment followed, he glanced over to see Dean staring at the TV, shaking his head. Reaching out to adjust the icepack, Sam ventured, "Don't know what?"
Dean looked over puzzled, the raw scrape across one cheekbone-the ghost's parting shot-shiny from the Neosporin ointment. "What?"
"You just said 'I don't know'."
"Oh." Obviously Dean didn't realize he had spoken aloud. "I don't know about this guy. Can't figure 'im out."
Sam followed Dean's gaze to the TV and saw The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. "What about him?" He wondered if his brother was getting a creepy vibe from the guy. Sam had learned to trust his brother's hunches-weird though they sometimes were.
"He seems to be really funny, a freakin' smart ass comedian, but then he'll interview these guys, all these politicos or scientists and stuff, and suddenly he's really smart."
"And?"
"I don't know about him," Dean repeated with a shrug.
"Why?"
"Doesn't it, I don't know, bother you?"
"Let me see, a guy who's a smart ass and also happens to be intelligent. That's what you want my opinion on?" Sam drawled with a purposely bland expression.
"Yeah."
"Really?"
Dean twisted around and looked over at Sam in exasperation. "Yes, really. Did those cops hit you in the head as well as your knee?" Pennsylvania's finest had taken offense at discovering Sam standing over the grave of what now was a thoroughly salted and burned police captain.
Sam gave Dean an ironic look and re-opened his book. "Nope."
An empty Doritos bag bounced off the headboard, missing Sam, but showering the page he was reading with orange dust.
"I'm serious."
"I get that," Sam said. "And, no, apparently, smart ass smart guys don't bug me as much as they do you."
Dean snorted. "Why not?"
Flicking Dean a look, deliberately turning a page in a way he knew would annoy his brother, Sam shrugged. "Don't know. You'd think it would. But after a while that sort of thing grows on you. You get used to liking that kind of guy. Learn to appreciate it." Especially when that guy talked his way past a roomful of officers in order to get his little brother free.
Sam could feel the penetrating gaze staring at him.
Finally, Dean shook his head in disgust, rolling back to face the television. "Whatever, dude."
Sam smiled.
end
Author: brate7
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: Gen, G
Word Count: 480
Summary: Just a night at the motel.
Watchers
By Brate
The motel room was quiet save for the hushed voices from the television. Dean was watching from his sprawled position across one bed, chin resting against a bunched up pillow squeezed between his arms. Sam sat on his own bed, reading a battered copy of a Dean Koontz book, his knee propped up by his and Dean's extra pillows, with a slowly melting bag of ice resting against it.
Breaking the status quo, Dean muttered, "I don't know."
Sam paused, a finger marking his place. When no other comment followed, he glanced over to see Dean staring at the TV, shaking his head. Reaching out to adjust the icepack, Sam ventured, "Don't know what?"
Dean looked over puzzled, the raw scrape across one cheekbone-the ghost's parting shot-shiny from the Neosporin ointment. "What?"
"You just said 'I don't know'."
"Oh." Obviously Dean didn't realize he had spoken aloud. "I don't know about this guy. Can't figure 'im out."
Sam followed Dean's gaze to the TV and saw The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. "What about him?" He wondered if his brother was getting a creepy vibe from the guy. Sam had learned to trust his brother's hunches-weird though they sometimes were.
"He seems to be really funny, a freakin' smart ass comedian, but then he'll interview these guys, all these politicos or scientists and stuff, and suddenly he's really smart."
"And?"
"I don't know about him," Dean repeated with a shrug.
"Why?"
"Doesn't it, I don't know, bother you?"
"Let me see, a guy who's a smart ass and also happens to be intelligent. That's what you want my opinion on?" Sam drawled with a purposely bland expression.
"Yeah."
"Really?"
Dean twisted around and looked over at Sam in exasperation. "Yes, really. Did those cops hit you in the head as well as your knee?" Pennsylvania's finest had taken offense at discovering Sam standing over the grave of what now was a thoroughly salted and burned police captain.
Sam gave Dean an ironic look and re-opened his book. "Nope."
An empty Doritos bag bounced off the headboard, missing Sam, but showering the page he was reading with orange dust.
"I'm serious."
"I get that," Sam said. "And, no, apparently, smart ass smart guys don't bug me as much as they do you."
Dean snorted. "Why not?"
Flicking Dean a look, deliberately turning a page in a way he knew would annoy his brother, Sam shrugged. "Don't know. You'd think it would. But after a while that sort of thing grows on you. You get used to liking that kind of guy. Learn to appreciate it." Especially when that guy talked his way past a roomful of officers in order to get his little brother free.
Sam could feel the penetrating gaze staring at him.
Finally, Dean shook his head in disgust, rolling back to face the television. "Whatever, dude."
Sam smiled.
end