The Best Policy 3/4
I figured since I said in my Sweet Charity description that you could find examples of my stories here, that I oughta actually, you know, put some of those stories here. So I'm making good on my threat of months back to move the rest of my stories over from ff.net. This isn't new. (And I have not abandoned An Ancient Pitch.)
Title: The Best Policy 3/4
Author: Deanish
Rating: PG13
Length: 1,190 / 5,450 words
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Cassie; Sam/Jess
Summary: Dean told the truth. Sam didn't. Neither will ever make that mistake again.
Chapter 3: The Dating Game
Dean
The fourth date may have been a first for Dean. He wouldn’t swear that he’d never been on a fourth date, but if he had, it was back in high school, when they occasionally stayed in one place for so long that he had to recycle girls.
This was not the same.
By the end of their second date, Dean had deduced that, despite her somewhat hippy-fied, save-the-world outlook, Cassie knew how to enjoy a cold beer and a good steak. And she wouldn’t be caught dead in Birkenstocks.
On the third, he couldn’t quite get her to agree that Zeppelin was the Best. Band. Ever. - though they had a really … rousing debate over it. They actually had a lot of really rousing debates.
But she did know all the words to Stairway to Heaven. And she could list a lot more than just Sweet Home Alabama when quizzed on Lynyrd Skynyrd’s top songs. Not that he quizzed her …
But this … This …
"So … Good idea?" she asked slyly, then grinned at what must have been a completely overwhelmed look on his face.
She had just presented him with two tickets to ZZ Top’s Columbus, Ohio, show, which started in four hours.
"We should leave now," she told him. "It’ll take an hour to get there. Then I expect an awfully good dinner in gratitude. That should leave us just enough time to get to the stadium and grab a T-shirt before the concert starts."
Dean just stared at her, open mouthed. How hard would Sam be laughing at the fact that he’d found a girl willing to go on dates to rockabilly blues concerts with him?
Cassie apparently decided to take his speechlessness as a good sign, because she laughed, threw her arms around his neck and rose to her tiptoes for a kiss. Dean automatically reciprocated, but his mind was racing.
He couldn’t just take off for Columbus tonight. He couldn’t. He was on a job. Dad was expecting him to take the first watch tonight. The full moon had passed, so they weren’t anticipating anything, but they couldn’t be sure.
Then again … No one besides Dad or Sam had ever given him a present before. And to tell the truth, this was better than most of the things they’d gotten him. ‘Course, it was the thought that counted.
Then again, Cassie’d obviously put some thought into this.
And it wasn’t like they were expecting trouble that night.
By the time Cassie pulled back and skipped off toward the Impala’s passenger door, Dean had made up his mind. He borrowed Cassie’s cell phone and quickly dialed the number for John’s. Then he thanked his lucky stars when it went to voicemail.
"Uh, Dad?" he questioned the recorded beep. "It’s Dean. I’m uh … Something came up? And I’m not going to be able to sit watch tonight. I hope that’s all right. Nothing’s wrong," he blurted, realizing that his shifty tone might bring John running. "Just, something came up. I’ll be home late. Uh. See you then."
He hit end and stared at the phone a moment, wondering what he’d done.
Dean spent that night - that amazing, wonderful night - sneaking speculative glances at Cassie out of the corner of his eye. He was feeling a little bewildered. And the way he couldn’t stop looking at her … well, let’s just say that if he’d trusted his instincts less, he might have suspected she’d bewitched him somehow.
This … This was different than anything he’d ever experienced. And he wasn’t sure what that meant.
That night, after he’d kissed her at her doorstep - he actually kissed her at her doorstep; it was after a round of great sex, but still - he experienced yet another first: his first fight with his dad about a girl.
Sam
The fourth date may have been a first for Sam.
He certainly couldn’t remember discussing the logistics of demonic possession with any of his previous dates. If he had, it was that one time when Bobby had tried to set him up with one of his nieces.
This wasn’t the same.
"Doesn’t it just give you shivers?" Jess was saying, eyes wide as she moved in for a closer look. Her nose ended up just inches from that of the wild-eyed woman in Peter Paul Rubens’ Possessed.
The Devils, Monsters and Nightmares exhibit at The Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco had been Jess’s idea. She pointed out that it would satisfy one of his extra credit requirements for art appreciation, but he hadn’t needed much convincing. How hard would Dean be laughing at the fact that he’d found a girl willing to go on dates to the museum with him?
Now, however, he was wondering if this had been the best idea. Jess took a step back and leaned into Sam. He automatically reciprocated, but his mind was racing.
He couldn’t be talking about this here. He couldn’t. Possession wasn’t part of this life, and he wasn’t sure he knew how to talk about it like a normal person would.
"Do you believe in that kind of thing?" Jess asked, turning to face him.
He snuck a surreptitious glance at her out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t turn to meet her gaze.
"What? Ghosts and demons and stuff?" he asked, stalling for time.
"Yeah," she answered. "You know - supernatural, paranormal type stuff."
Sam choked on a scoff. "Nah," he said. "I grew out of ghost stories in grade school."
Jess frowned up at him. "Oh come on," she said indignantly. "That’s no fun."
"No fun?" he echoed, genuinely surprised.
"Yeah," she insisted. "It’s good to let your imagination run away with you sometimes. I’d love to live in a big old haunted house someday. You know? With cold spots and doors that shut on their own every now and then. Haunted houses have history."
"You wouldn’t be scared?" he asked, carefully neutral.
"Well, yeah," she said, grinning up at him. "But that’s the point. You get that nice quivery feeling in your stomach. It’s fun to be a little scared sometimes."
She moved on to the next one - Henry Fuseli’s The Nightmare - while Sam stayed behind, staring at Possessed, thinking about that. About how she had no idea.
He lied to plenty of people - plenty of dates, even - about his real life. He was used to translating traveling ghost hunter into traveling salesman, and poltergeist-broken arm into fell out of a tree.
This, though … This felt different. This was denying something fundamental to who he was. But maybe, for Jess, it was something he was willing to do - to let her hold on to her childish believe in ghosts. To let her hold on to her naïve beliefs about Sam.
And he wasn’t sure what that meant.
But that night, after he kissed her on her front step, he experienced another first: For the first time, he really and truly believed he might be able to pull off normal.
Chapter 4: Truth and/or Consequence
Title: The Best Policy 3/4
Author: Deanish
Rating: PG13
Length: 1,190 / 5,450 words
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Cassie; Sam/Jess
Summary: Dean told the truth. Sam didn't. Neither will ever make that mistake again.
Chapter 3: The Dating Game
Dean
The fourth date may have been a first for Dean. He wouldn’t swear that he’d never been on a fourth date, but if he had, it was back in high school, when they occasionally stayed in one place for so long that he had to recycle girls.
This was not the same.
By the end of their second date, Dean had deduced that, despite her somewhat hippy-fied, save-the-world outlook, Cassie knew how to enjoy a cold beer and a good steak. And she wouldn’t be caught dead in Birkenstocks.
On the third, he couldn’t quite get her to agree that Zeppelin was the Best. Band. Ever. - though they had a really … rousing debate over it. They actually had a lot of really rousing debates.
But she did know all the words to Stairway to Heaven. And she could list a lot more than just Sweet Home Alabama when quizzed on Lynyrd Skynyrd’s top songs. Not that he quizzed her …
But this … This …
"So … Good idea?" she asked slyly, then grinned at what must have been a completely overwhelmed look on his face.
She had just presented him with two tickets to ZZ Top’s Columbus, Ohio, show, which started in four hours.
"We should leave now," she told him. "It’ll take an hour to get there. Then I expect an awfully good dinner in gratitude. That should leave us just enough time to get to the stadium and grab a T-shirt before the concert starts."
Dean just stared at her, open mouthed. How hard would Sam be laughing at the fact that he’d found a girl willing to go on dates to rockabilly blues concerts with him?
Cassie apparently decided to take his speechlessness as a good sign, because she laughed, threw her arms around his neck and rose to her tiptoes for a kiss. Dean automatically reciprocated, but his mind was racing.
He couldn’t just take off for Columbus tonight. He couldn’t. He was on a job. Dad was expecting him to take the first watch tonight. The full moon had passed, so they weren’t anticipating anything, but they couldn’t be sure.
Then again … No one besides Dad or Sam had ever given him a present before. And to tell the truth, this was better than most of the things they’d gotten him. ‘Course, it was the thought that counted.
Then again, Cassie’d obviously put some thought into this.
And it wasn’t like they were expecting trouble that night.
By the time Cassie pulled back and skipped off toward the Impala’s passenger door, Dean had made up his mind. He borrowed Cassie’s cell phone and quickly dialed the number for John’s. Then he thanked his lucky stars when it went to voicemail.
"Uh, Dad?" he questioned the recorded beep. "It’s Dean. I’m uh … Something came up? And I’m not going to be able to sit watch tonight. I hope that’s all right. Nothing’s wrong," he blurted, realizing that his shifty tone might bring John running. "Just, something came up. I’ll be home late. Uh. See you then."
He hit end and stared at the phone a moment, wondering what he’d done.
Dean spent that night - that amazing, wonderful night - sneaking speculative glances at Cassie out of the corner of his eye. He was feeling a little bewildered. And the way he couldn’t stop looking at her … well, let’s just say that if he’d trusted his instincts less, he might have suspected she’d bewitched him somehow.
This … This was different than anything he’d ever experienced. And he wasn’t sure what that meant.
That night, after he’d kissed her at her doorstep - he actually kissed her at her doorstep; it was after a round of great sex, but still - he experienced yet another first: his first fight with his dad about a girl.
Sam
The fourth date may have been a first for Sam.
He certainly couldn’t remember discussing the logistics of demonic possession with any of his previous dates. If he had, it was that one time when Bobby had tried to set him up with one of his nieces.
This wasn’t the same.
"Doesn’t it just give you shivers?" Jess was saying, eyes wide as she moved in for a closer look. Her nose ended up just inches from that of the wild-eyed woman in Peter Paul Rubens’ Possessed.
The Devils, Monsters and Nightmares exhibit at The Fine Arts Museum of San Francisco had been Jess’s idea. She pointed out that it would satisfy one of his extra credit requirements for art appreciation, but he hadn’t needed much convincing. How hard would Dean be laughing at the fact that he’d found a girl willing to go on dates to the museum with him?
Now, however, he was wondering if this had been the best idea. Jess took a step back and leaned into Sam. He automatically reciprocated, but his mind was racing.
He couldn’t be talking about this here. He couldn’t. Possession wasn’t part of this life, and he wasn’t sure he knew how to talk about it like a normal person would.
"Do you believe in that kind of thing?" Jess asked, turning to face him.
He snuck a surreptitious glance at her out of the corner of his eye, but didn’t turn to meet her gaze.
"What? Ghosts and demons and stuff?" he asked, stalling for time.
"Yeah," she answered. "You know - supernatural, paranormal type stuff."
Sam choked on a scoff. "Nah," he said. "I grew out of ghost stories in grade school."
Jess frowned up at him. "Oh come on," she said indignantly. "That’s no fun."
"No fun?" he echoed, genuinely surprised.
"Yeah," she insisted. "It’s good to let your imagination run away with you sometimes. I’d love to live in a big old haunted house someday. You know? With cold spots and doors that shut on their own every now and then. Haunted houses have history."
"You wouldn’t be scared?" he asked, carefully neutral.
"Well, yeah," she said, grinning up at him. "But that’s the point. You get that nice quivery feeling in your stomach. It’s fun to be a little scared sometimes."
She moved on to the next one - Henry Fuseli’s The Nightmare - while Sam stayed behind, staring at Possessed, thinking about that. About how she had no idea.
He lied to plenty of people - plenty of dates, even - about his real life. He was used to translating traveling ghost hunter into traveling salesman, and poltergeist-broken arm into fell out of a tree.
This, though … This felt different. This was denying something fundamental to who he was. But maybe, for Jess, it was something he was willing to do - to let her hold on to her childish believe in ghosts. To let her hold on to her naïve beliefs about Sam.
And he wasn’t sure what that meant.
But that night, after he kissed her on her front step, he experienced another first: For the first time, he really and truly believed he might be able to pull off normal.
Chapter 4: Truth and/or Consequence