Drabble challenge for lizfirestarter
Prompt: Waltz for the Moon by Nobuo Uematsu
Requested By: lizfirestarter
Characters: Dean Winchester, Liz Sherman, Sam Winchester, an OC I made up right now
Timeline/Verse: Brave New World verse, crack. I have no idea what canon point this is even supposed to be, lmfao. Just go with it.
Location: New York City
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Hellboy. Dean is likedillinger , Liz is lizfirestarter , and Sam is getyourownpie . All are used with permission and love. Events are non-binding to all muses. This grew into a... whole story kind of lmfao. I wrote the last couple lines first and it just... went from there. My challenge to myself was to write something NON-ANGSTY that was FUN. :D So... this is what you got.
Still accepting requests here!
"By the punch bowl," Dean said, glancing nonchalantly over Sam's shoulder, his gaze continuing to sweep the room as if entirely unconcerned, but his eyes snapped back to Sam to make sure he was registering. His brother flicked a glance in that direction as well, forehead creasing a bit in apparent skepticism.
"You're sure?"
Offense colored Dean's expression as he fixed his eyes back on Sam. "Of course I'm sure," he said, swiping Sam's drink right out of his hand and downing it, before dropping it on a passing waiter's tray full of otherwise full glasses. He yanked on the bottom of his suit jacket, and adjusted his tie, surreptitiously running a hand down to the waist band of his slacks to check and make sure his gun was still there. "He's the one. I saw his face pretty clearly before he tried tearing off mine."
Sam's frown deepened a bit, and Dean suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He should have known better than to take Sam along on a werewolf case. "Look," he said, his irritation audible, as he fixed Sam with a hard stare. "Let me take care of it. You just watch my damn back."
If Sam meant to reply to that, he never got around to it, because he nodded slightly in the direction of their target. "He's leaving," he murmured, and Dean turned quickly to catch a glimpse of the beefy dude in a tux slipping out into the side halls.
"I'll be right back," Dean said, shooting Sam a flickering smartass grin. Sam yanked him back when he started in that direction.
"And what exactly am I supposed to do?" he asked. Dean glanced around the room, and then smiled again at his brother, patting him on the shoulder, and leaning in to wiggle his eyebrows.
"I don't know, Sammy. Mingle." With that, he slipped through the crowd, heading towards the door.
The look on Sam's face as he watched his brother go clearly read 'fml'.
----------------------------
Seemed like it would be easy enough - Fluffy was heading outside to grab some air or scratch behind his ears or something, and Dean followed him, drawing the gun loaded carefully with silver bullets that he'd fashioned himself. He allowed himself a moment to appreciate the irony of this monster who'd ripped apart some school children wining and dining in a tuxedo with the swanky elite, but it didn't give him any pause. He had a job to do.
Fido had paused in the garden up ahead, and was lighting up a cigar. Dean pulled the gun up level and smirked as his finger itched towards the trigger. This would be easy.
"What do you think you're doing?" came a harsh angry and familiar voice behind him and his eyebrows shot up as his head jerked around to see Liz standing there, in a dress, arms folded, her eyes riveted to the gun in his hand pointed at the man in the garden. Glancing back that way, it was obvious that guy had heard too.
Oh this was just--
"Liz, run!" Dean barked, wasting no time in pushing her back down the hall as he heard the howl erupting from the man standing out there in the moonlight.
"No, I am not going to run," she argued, "That's my date, what the hell do you think you're--"
With a groan, Dean grabbed her arm hard and yanked her down the hall, raising his gun up towards the hairy beast that was now charging back inside towards them.
Liz's eyes grew huge and Dean had to pull extra hard to get her moving in an away-from-the-monster direction, but she glanced at him as they ran together and he squeezed off a few unlucky shots that went wild.
"That's Duke?" she asked incredulously.
"Yeah, I'm sure he seemed so nice," Dean said, not really in the mood to chat about it right now as he pulled her around a corner. "They always do." He stuck his head back around, hoping to get off one more lucky shot but the thing was bouncing from side to side down the hallway, avoiding like a pro.
"You do this often?" Liz countered.
"You have no idea," Dean mumbled under his breath as a bullet crashed through a probably priceless vase.
------------------------
Inside the ballroom, Sam sat nervously nursing a drink, and rubbing his forehead, trying to keep unbidden thoughts of a certain other werewolf away when he heard the first shot over the strains of Vivaldi filling the room. His eyes slowly grew as he noticed a few heads turn that way and mouths drop open in surprise.
Just great, Dean. Real subtle.
He had to think fast, and his eyes fixed themselves on the glass in his hand.
Well, it was better than nothing.
-------------------------
"Are you always this good of a shot?" Liz said sharply as they wheeled back further down the hallway. The thing reared up and Dean glanced behind himself. They were fucking cornered.
What a day.
"Got any better ideas?" Dean snapped.
"Maybe a couple," Liz said smugly, and pushed him aside. "I really hate when my dates try to kill me."
A few seconds later, the hallway was on fire.
-------------------------
"BUILD ME UP," Sam bellowed at the top of his lungs, swaying on the punch table, "BUTTERCUP BABY, IF YOU LET ME DOWN AND MESS ME AROUND..."
He ignored the waiters scrabbling to pull him down, making sure to spill his drink on them, and hate his existence the entire time. There really had to have been a better way around this but everyone was now laughing and pointing and making such a din that whatever distant firefight Dean was involved in, they were happily oblivious.
He was going to kick his brother's ass for this.
-------------------------
"So uh," Dean said with a slight gulp, staring at the pile of ashes as the flames around Liz died down slowly. "You do this to all the dates that disappoint you?"
She turned towards him slowly, fixing him with a weak grin. "There wouldn't be a lot of evidence left if I did. So maybe you'll never know."
"I hope not," he said, taking a tentative step closer. He still hadn't really lowered his gun. "So, that... what you do ... is that..."
"Is that what?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Is that something you were gonna mention or do you usually leave that one off for awhile?"
Liz smirked slightly at that, eyes sweeping back down to the ground as she considered her answer. "I don't know, some guys just bring that out in me, I guess. This was nothing."
"Nothing?" Dean asked, incredulously, both eyebrows jerking up.
She shrugged. "I don't know, next to some dates I've had, I think a werewolf's pretty tame. It's hard meeting good guys in New York."
"If this is what you consider tame, I don't think I ever wanna run into your other exes," Dean said, shaking his head, and sliding the gun away.
Liz's laugh was a little too sudden.
"You're right," she said, hiding her smirk. "You probably wouldn't."
Requested By: lizfirestarter
Characters: Dean Winchester, Liz Sherman, Sam Winchester, an OC I made up right now
Timeline/Verse: Brave New World verse, crack. I have no idea what canon point this is even supposed to be, lmfao. Just go with it.
Location: New York City
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or Hellboy. Dean is likedillinger , Liz is lizfirestarter , and Sam is getyourownpie . All are used with permission and love. Events are non-binding to all muses. This grew into a... whole story kind of lmfao. I wrote the last couple lines first and it just... went from there. My challenge to myself was to write something NON-ANGSTY that was FUN. :D So... this is what you got.
Still accepting requests here!
"By the punch bowl," Dean said, glancing nonchalantly over Sam's shoulder, his gaze continuing to sweep the room as if entirely unconcerned, but his eyes snapped back to Sam to make sure he was registering. His brother flicked a glance in that direction as well, forehead creasing a bit in apparent skepticism.
"You're sure?"
Offense colored Dean's expression as he fixed his eyes back on Sam. "Of course I'm sure," he said, swiping Sam's drink right out of his hand and downing it, before dropping it on a passing waiter's tray full of otherwise full glasses. He yanked on the bottom of his suit jacket, and adjusted his tie, surreptitiously running a hand down to the waist band of his slacks to check and make sure his gun was still there. "He's the one. I saw his face pretty clearly before he tried tearing off mine."
Sam's frown deepened a bit, and Dean suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. He should have known better than to take Sam along on a werewolf case. "Look," he said, his irritation audible, as he fixed Sam with a hard stare. "Let me take care of it. You just watch my damn back."
If Sam meant to reply to that, he never got around to it, because he nodded slightly in the direction of their target. "He's leaving," he murmured, and Dean turned quickly to catch a glimpse of the beefy dude in a tux slipping out into the side halls.
"I'll be right back," Dean said, shooting Sam a flickering smartass grin. Sam yanked him back when he started in that direction.
"And what exactly am I supposed to do?" he asked. Dean glanced around the room, and then smiled again at his brother, patting him on the shoulder, and leaning in to wiggle his eyebrows.
"I don't know, Sammy. Mingle." With that, he slipped through the crowd, heading towards the door.
The look on Sam's face as he watched his brother go clearly read 'fml'.
----------------------------
Seemed like it would be easy enough - Fluffy was heading outside to grab some air or scratch behind his ears or something, and Dean followed him, drawing the gun loaded carefully with silver bullets that he'd fashioned himself. He allowed himself a moment to appreciate the irony of this monster who'd ripped apart some school children wining and dining in a tuxedo with the swanky elite, but it didn't give him any pause. He had a job to do.
Fido had paused in the garden up ahead, and was lighting up a cigar. Dean pulled the gun up level and smirked as his finger itched towards the trigger. This would be easy.
"What do you think you're doing?" came a harsh angry and familiar voice behind him and his eyebrows shot up as his head jerked around to see Liz standing there, in a dress, arms folded, her eyes riveted to the gun in his hand pointed at the man in the garden. Glancing back that way, it was obvious that guy had heard too.
Oh this was just--
"Liz, run!" Dean barked, wasting no time in pushing her back down the hall as he heard the howl erupting from the man standing out there in the moonlight.
"No, I am not going to run," she argued, "That's my date, what the hell do you think you're--"
With a groan, Dean grabbed her arm hard and yanked her down the hall, raising his gun up towards the hairy beast that was now charging back inside towards them.
Liz's eyes grew huge and Dean had to pull extra hard to get her moving in an away-from-the-monster direction, but she glanced at him as they ran together and he squeezed off a few unlucky shots that went wild.
"That's Duke?" she asked incredulously.
"Yeah, I'm sure he seemed so nice," Dean said, not really in the mood to chat about it right now as he pulled her around a corner. "They always do." He stuck his head back around, hoping to get off one more lucky shot but the thing was bouncing from side to side down the hallway, avoiding like a pro.
"You do this often?" Liz countered.
"You have no idea," Dean mumbled under his breath as a bullet crashed through a probably priceless vase.
------------------------
Inside the ballroom, Sam sat nervously nursing a drink, and rubbing his forehead, trying to keep unbidden thoughts of a certain other werewolf away when he heard the first shot over the strains of Vivaldi filling the room. His eyes slowly grew as he noticed a few heads turn that way and mouths drop open in surprise.
Just great, Dean. Real subtle.
He had to think fast, and his eyes fixed themselves on the glass in his hand.
Well, it was better than nothing.
-------------------------
"Are you always this good of a shot?" Liz said sharply as they wheeled back further down the hallway. The thing reared up and Dean glanced behind himself. They were fucking cornered.
What a day.
"Got any better ideas?" Dean snapped.
"Maybe a couple," Liz said smugly, and pushed him aside. "I really hate when my dates try to kill me."
A few seconds later, the hallway was on fire.
-------------------------
"BUILD ME UP," Sam bellowed at the top of his lungs, swaying on the punch table, "BUTTERCUP BABY, IF YOU LET ME DOWN AND MESS ME AROUND..."
He ignored the waiters scrabbling to pull him down, making sure to spill his drink on them, and hate his existence the entire time. There really had to have been a better way around this but everyone was now laughing and pointing and making such a din that whatever distant firefight Dean was involved in, they were happily oblivious.
He was going to kick his brother's ass for this.
-------------------------
"So uh," Dean said with a slight gulp, staring at the pile of ashes as the flames around Liz died down slowly. "You do this to all the dates that disappoint you?"
She turned towards him slowly, fixing him with a weak grin. "There wouldn't be a lot of evidence left if I did. So maybe you'll never know."
"I hope not," he said, taking a tentative step closer. He still hadn't really lowered his gun. "So, that... what you do ... is that..."
"Is that what?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Is that something you were gonna mention or do you usually leave that one off for awhile?"
Liz smirked slightly at that, eyes sweeping back down to the ground as she considered her answer. "I don't know, some guys just bring that out in me, I guess. This was nothing."
"Nothing?" Dean asked, incredulously, both eyebrows jerking up.
She shrugged. "I don't know, next to some dates I've had, I think a werewolf's pretty tame. It's hard meeting good guys in New York."
"If this is what you consider tame, I don't think I ever wanna run into your other exes," Dean said, shaking his head, and sliding the gun away.
Liz's laugh was a little too sudden.
"You're right," she said, hiding her smirk. "You probably wouldn't."