FIC: At Such An Assembly As This (SPN/Pride and Prejudice)
Commentfic: At Such An Assembly As This
originally posted here: The 'Kripke Started It' Commentfic Meme
Spoilers for SPN 5.08 "Changing Channels"; Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
The next thing Dean knows, they're indoors. The room is weird and swimmy feeling and it takes him a moment to realize it's because the only light source is a bazillion and one candles everywhere, flames flickering constantly in the wall sconces and chandeliers. The place is bursting to the seams with people in strange get-ups and there's something that could conceivably be called music coming from one end of the room. "Ah, crap," Sam says from beside him and Dean doesn't have time to ask what the problem is - beyond the obvious - before they are descended upon by a middle-aged woman and her entourage of daughters.
"I do not believe we have been introduced, gentlemen," she says chidingly. "But I am very forgiving to friends of the good Mr Bingley."
There's something very desperate in her behavior, but Dean can't quite put a finger on it, or why he knows that there is missing punctuation in that last sentence. He just knows. He glances at the girls - five in all, and all but the eldest two give him the heebeejeebees. One of the younger girls eyes him hungrily and it's about the least sexiest thing he's ever experienced. She can't be more than fourteen.
"I am Mrs Bennet," the woman continues. "Perhaps you met my Mr Bennet earlier, when he called on your friend Mr Bingley?"
Sam coughs politely. "Ah, no," he says, stumbling into the role. 'Good,' Dean thinks. 'At least I'm not alone with the uncomfortableness.' Sam continues: "We, ah, we were out hunting when Mr Bennet called at Netherfield. We are, uh, pleased to make your acquaintance." He nudges Dean, who practically chokes because that same girl - a kid, really! - is still giving him the eye. "Um, yeah. Nice to meet you."
Mrs Bennet tuts at him but doesn't really say anything; the look on her face is sufficient. When she turns back to Sam, though, she's all bizarro sweetness and light. "My daughters," she says and introduces them in turn.
There's a round of awkward bowing and the girls curtsying and then Sam introduces them: "I'm Samuel Winchester, and this is my brother Dean," he says, and it strikes Dean as odd that Sam almost never actually uses his full name.
"Do you hail from that same city, Mr Winchester?" one of the daughters asks. It's one of the older ones - Jane or Elizabeth, Dean's not sure which one - and her look is true curiosity. It's refreshing. Also, she's kind of hot. There's a glint in her eye, like she knows how to behave in public, but is secretly itching to get out of here.
"Uh," Sam says stupidly, clearly floundering. Dean steps in: "We're not really from any particular place, you know?" He gives the non-scary daughter a wink. "We move around a lot."
The girl blinks, like she's not sure that what she's just seen, and heard, really happened. Sam grimaces at the answer, as does Mrs Bennet for about thirty seconds, until one of the younger girls - not the weird eyeing one, and not the frumpy one - pipes up: "Are you in the militia then, Mr Winchester? We have been so well graced by soldiers this season."
"Yes," says the creepy one. "It's such a pity they don't stay in one place for long. La, we are always having to make new friends as the old ones leave us."
"Yes!" Sam says a little too enthusiastically. "The militia! In fact, I have just remembered something I must mention to Colonel, um, Colonel Foster. If you will excuse us, ladies." He bows, and Dean follows his lead, though he's sure he's mangled it a little, and then they made their getaway. It takes a while to make their way through the crowds, but at last they find themselves in a quiet corner of a hallway. "Okay," Dean says, "what the hell is this, Masterpiece Theater?"
"Something like that. It's Pride and Prejudice."
"What?"
"You know - Jane Austen? Mr Darcy? 'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife'? Colin Firth? Seriously, none of this is ringing a bell?"
Dean shakes his head. "Not a clue."
"Okay. Okay. I mean, I read the book for a survey of lit class back in freshman year, and Jess always liked to do a marathon of the miniseries when she was sick, so I can probably fake it all right..." Sam closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Okay."
"Dude, just lay it out for me."
"Okay." Sam takes another breath. "The first rule of Pride and Prejudice is this: don't let Mrs Bennet think you have any money. In fact, if anyone seems to be fishing for information about us, make us out to be penniless orphans. You do *not* want Mrs Bennet for a mother-in-law..."
originally posted here: The 'Kripke Started It' Commentfic Meme
Spoilers for SPN 5.08 "Changing Channels"; Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen
The next thing Dean knows, they're indoors. The room is weird and swimmy feeling and it takes him a moment to realize it's because the only light source is a bazillion and one candles everywhere, flames flickering constantly in the wall sconces and chandeliers. The place is bursting to the seams with people in strange get-ups and there's something that could conceivably be called music coming from one end of the room. "Ah, crap," Sam says from beside him and Dean doesn't have time to ask what the problem is - beyond the obvious - before they are descended upon by a middle-aged woman and her entourage of daughters.
"I do not believe we have been introduced, gentlemen," she says chidingly. "But I am very forgiving to friends of the good Mr Bingley."
There's something very desperate in her behavior, but Dean can't quite put a finger on it, or why he knows that there is missing punctuation in that last sentence. He just knows. He glances at the girls - five in all, and all but the eldest two give him the heebeejeebees. One of the younger girls eyes him hungrily and it's about the least sexiest thing he's ever experienced. She can't be more than fourteen.
"I am Mrs Bennet," the woman continues. "Perhaps you met my Mr Bennet earlier, when he called on your friend Mr Bingley?"
Sam coughs politely. "Ah, no," he says, stumbling into the role. 'Good,' Dean thinks. 'At least I'm not alone with the uncomfortableness.' Sam continues: "We, ah, we were out hunting when Mr Bennet called at Netherfield. We are, uh, pleased to make your acquaintance." He nudges Dean, who practically chokes because that same girl - a kid, really! - is still giving him the eye. "Um, yeah. Nice to meet you."
Mrs Bennet tuts at him but doesn't really say anything; the look on her face is sufficient. When she turns back to Sam, though, she's all bizarro sweetness and light. "My daughters," she says and introduces them in turn.
There's a round of awkward bowing and the girls curtsying and then Sam introduces them: "I'm Samuel Winchester, and this is my brother Dean," he says, and it strikes Dean as odd that Sam almost never actually uses his full name.
"Do you hail from that same city, Mr Winchester?" one of the daughters asks. It's one of the older ones - Jane or Elizabeth, Dean's not sure which one - and her look is true curiosity. It's refreshing. Also, she's kind of hot. There's a glint in her eye, like she knows how to behave in public, but is secretly itching to get out of here.
"Uh," Sam says stupidly, clearly floundering. Dean steps in: "We're not really from any particular place, you know?" He gives the non-scary daughter a wink. "We move around a lot."
The girl blinks, like she's not sure that what she's just seen, and heard, really happened. Sam grimaces at the answer, as does Mrs Bennet for about thirty seconds, until one of the younger girls - not the weird eyeing one, and not the frumpy one - pipes up: "Are you in the militia then, Mr Winchester? We have been so well graced by soldiers this season."
"Yes," says the creepy one. "It's such a pity they don't stay in one place for long. La, we are always having to make new friends as the old ones leave us."
"Yes!" Sam says a little too enthusiastically. "The militia! In fact, I have just remembered something I must mention to Colonel, um, Colonel Foster. If you will excuse us, ladies." He bows, and Dean follows his lead, though he's sure he's mangled it a little, and then they made their getaway. It takes a while to make their way through the crowds, but at last they find themselves in a quiet corner of a hallway. "Okay," Dean says, "what the hell is this, Masterpiece Theater?"
"Something like that. It's Pride and Prejudice."
"What?"
"You know - Jane Austen? Mr Darcy? 'It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife'? Colin Firth? Seriously, none of this is ringing a bell?"
Dean shakes his head. "Not a clue."
"Okay. Okay. I mean, I read the book for a survey of lit class back in freshman year, and Jess always liked to do a marathon of the miniseries when she was sick, so I can probably fake it all right..." Sam closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Okay."
"Dude, just lay it out for me."
"Okay." Sam takes another breath. "The first rule of Pride and Prejudice is this: don't let Mrs Bennet think you have any money. In fact, if anyone seems to be fishing for information about us, make us out to be penniless orphans. You do *not* want Mrs Bennet for a mother-in-law..."