Kitten Days - The Adventures Continue
Title: Kitten Days, Part 2
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean, Bobby
Summary: Sam gets turned into a kitten for six months.
Notes: Most of these were for prompts on comment_fic, but I'm not going to bother marking them all. Also, this contains the two I'd posted earlier. Just FYI.
Part 1
Day 3
Dean came back to the motel room to find his clothes spread out all over the floor, the lamp knocked over and salt scattered everywhere. Grumbling about the mess, he started looking for the bundle of grey fur that was his little brother.
“Sammy? Dammit, Sam, where are you, you furry little bastard?”
He finally found him asleep in the tub, curled up in a nest made of Dean’s favorite t-shirt. Sighing, the hunter decided to let the little hellion be while he cleaned up.
As he stuffed clothes back into the duffle bags, he glanced at the bathroom door. “What am I going to do with you, fuzzbutt?” he muttered.
Day 5
“Dude, seriously. Tell me you understand what I’m saying.”
The kitten cocked its head at Dean, but made no other indication of comprehension.
Pulling the laptop over to him, Dean opened a Word document and turned it to face Sam. “Here. Can you type with those paws?”
Sam considered the keyboard, then looked back at Dean’s face and tilted his head to the other side. Dean sighed.
“Alright, let’s try something different. Say you’re hungry. How-”
Sam mewed. Loudly. Wincing, Dean held out a thumbs up. “I think I got it. Let’s get dinner, huh?”
The kitten purred.
Day 6
Sam quickly staked out just what he considered his.
The laptop, when turned on, became the choice nap spot and Dean would be unable to get any research done with the kitten sprawled across the keyboard.
One of the duffle bags was a prime spot for something Dean couldn’t figure out, but whatever it was, Sam didn’t tolerate Dean within five feet of the bag.
Pencils or pens all eventually found themselves stashed under one of the beds and attempts to retrieve one met with tiny claws and fangs.
If it was small enough for Sam to drag it around and was left somewhere the kitten could reach, it became his and joined the pens and pencils under the bed.
Dean quickly grew exasperated with these territorial habits his brother had developed, but found he couldn’t stay mad for very long when the kitten rolled over and implored him to rub his tummy or brought one of the pencils back as a peace offering.
Day 11
Dean had one eye on the gun he was cleaning and one eye on his brother, as the kitten tumbled head over tail, playing with one of the toys Dean had gotten from the pet store.
Abruptly, Sam lost interest in the toy and padded towards Dean’s duffle. Setting down the swab, Dean grabbed the spray bottle and aimed. Sam jumped and glared at Dean, ears flat against his skull. Dean stared back, unapologetic.
“Dude, I’m going to keep doing it until you learn to leave my clothes alone.”
Ten minutes later, Sam had been sprayed six times and was sulking on the other bed, pointedly ignoring Dean. The hunter shook his head and resumed cleaning the gun.
Day 24
Sam growled at Dean’s fingers and the hunter carefully kept them out of pouncing range. Scowling, he tried to use his other hand to reach around, but got swiped at instead.
Glaring, he decided enough was enough. Standing, he bent over and, ignoring the small scratches Sam managed to land on his hand, picked the kitten up by his scruff.
“I need my shoe, midget,” he grumbled, holding his transformed brother aloft while he slipped the shoe on.
Day 28
Turned out, Sam had enough self-awareness that he automatically went for shotgun in the Impala. Dean had noticed it on the way to Bobby’s, but had put it down to coincidence. However, when they made a trip into town for some grocery shopping, Sam hopped right in ahead of Bobby and curled up in the front passenger seat.
Bobby glared at him and tried to shoo him into the back, but the kitten was stubborn and refused to budge. The old hunter finally sighed and got into the back.
He didn’t even try on the way back and Sam continued to enjoy life from the passenger side.
Day 52
Dean woke to shouts from downstairs. Pulling on a pair of jeans and throwing on a shirt, he hurried down to find out what was going on.
Finding Bobby in the middle of the kitchen, Dean grinned. “Having a little trouble with the flour, Bobby?”
The old hunter glowered at him and pointed at the floor in accusation. Tiny paw prints were clearly visible against the fine white dust that otherwise covered everything. Dean rolled his eyes.
“I’ll go have a talk with him,” he promised, making sure to be out of sight of the kitchen before doubling over in silent laughter.
Day 96
Taking Sam to the veterinarian’s turned out to be a lengthy process. Getting him into the car had been easy enough, though the kitten had promptly sprawled across the shotgun seat. Bobby had glared at the impassive creature before huffing and getting into the back while Dean just rolled his eyes.
The trip into town went smoothly, with Sam mostly keeping to the seat he’d claimed. Pulling up in front of the clinic, though, Sam seemed to finally catch on to what was happening. It took Dean and Bobby nearly half an hour to get the cat out of the car and even then, it was with plenty of scratches along their arms and hands. Finally, though, Dean had the pouting cat tucked under one arm. Bobby stayed outside to chat with some of the townsfolk.
The wait was thankfully short and Sam didn’t fuss much once the vet took him from Dean, but as soon as she was done, he was immediately at the door, obviously wanting out. Dean scooped him up, paid the vet and carried his brother out to the Impala, where Sam curled up in the passenger seat and glowered at the world.
Dean shook his head as they headed back to the house. “It’s a good thing you’ll only be like this for six months.”
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean, Bobby
Summary: Sam gets turned into a kitten for six months.
Notes: Most of these were for prompts on comment_fic, but I'm not going to bother marking them all. Also, this contains the two I'd posted earlier. Just FYI.
Part 1
Day 3
Dean came back to the motel room to find his clothes spread out all over the floor, the lamp knocked over and salt scattered everywhere. Grumbling about the mess, he started looking for the bundle of grey fur that was his little brother.
“Sammy? Dammit, Sam, where are you, you furry little bastard?”
He finally found him asleep in the tub, curled up in a nest made of Dean’s favorite t-shirt. Sighing, the hunter decided to let the little hellion be while he cleaned up.
As he stuffed clothes back into the duffle bags, he glanced at the bathroom door. “What am I going to do with you, fuzzbutt?” he muttered.
Day 5
“Dude, seriously. Tell me you understand what I’m saying.”
The kitten cocked its head at Dean, but made no other indication of comprehension.
Pulling the laptop over to him, Dean opened a Word document and turned it to face Sam. “Here. Can you type with those paws?”
Sam considered the keyboard, then looked back at Dean’s face and tilted his head to the other side. Dean sighed.
“Alright, let’s try something different. Say you’re hungry. How-”
Sam mewed. Loudly. Wincing, Dean held out a thumbs up. “I think I got it. Let’s get dinner, huh?”
The kitten purred.
Day 6
Sam quickly staked out just what he considered his.
The laptop, when turned on, became the choice nap spot and Dean would be unable to get any research done with the kitten sprawled across the keyboard.
One of the duffle bags was a prime spot for something Dean couldn’t figure out, but whatever it was, Sam didn’t tolerate Dean within five feet of the bag.
Pencils or pens all eventually found themselves stashed under one of the beds and attempts to retrieve one met with tiny claws and fangs.
If it was small enough for Sam to drag it around and was left somewhere the kitten could reach, it became his and joined the pens and pencils under the bed.
Dean quickly grew exasperated with these territorial habits his brother had developed, but found he couldn’t stay mad for very long when the kitten rolled over and implored him to rub his tummy or brought one of the pencils back as a peace offering.
Day 11
Dean had one eye on the gun he was cleaning and one eye on his brother, as the kitten tumbled head over tail, playing with one of the toys Dean had gotten from the pet store.
Abruptly, Sam lost interest in the toy and padded towards Dean’s duffle. Setting down the swab, Dean grabbed the spray bottle and aimed. Sam jumped and glared at Dean, ears flat against his skull. Dean stared back, unapologetic.
“Dude, I’m going to keep doing it until you learn to leave my clothes alone.”
Ten minutes later, Sam had been sprayed six times and was sulking on the other bed, pointedly ignoring Dean. The hunter shook his head and resumed cleaning the gun.
Day 24
Sam growled at Dean’s fingers and the hunter carefully kept them out of pouncing range. Scowling, he tried to use his other hand to reach around, but got swiped at instead.
Glaring, he decided enough was enough. Standing, he bent over and, ignoring the small scratches Sam managed to land on his hand, picked the kitten up by his scruff.
“I need my shoe, midget,” he grumbled, holding his transformed brother aloft while he slipped the shoe on.
Day 28
Turned out, Sam had enough self-awareness that he automatically went for shotgun in the Impala. Dean had noticed it on the way to Bobby’s, but had put it down to coincidence. However, when they made a trip into town for some grocery shopping, Sam hopped right in ahead of Bobby and curled up in the front passenger seat.
Bobby glared at him and tried to shoo him into the back, but the kitten was stubborn and refused to budge. The old hunter finally sighed and got into the back.
He didn’t even try on the way back and Sam continued to enjoy life from the passenger side.
Day 52
Dean woke to shouts from downstairs. Pulling on a pair of jeans and throwing on a shirt, he hurried down to find out what was going on.
Finding Bobby in the middle of the kitchen, Dean grinned. “Having a little trouble with the flour, Bobby?”
The old hunter glowered at him and pointed at the floor in accusation. Tiny paw prints were clearly visible against the fine white dust that otherwise covered everything. Dean rolled his eyes.
“I’ll go have a talk with him,” he promised, making sure to be out of sight of the kitchen before doubling over in silent laughter.
Day 96
Taking Sam to the veterinarian’s turned out to be a lengthy process. Getting him into the car had been easy enough, though the kitten had promptly sprawled across the shotgun seat. Bobby had glared at the impassive creature before huffing and getting into the back while Dean just rolled his eyes.
The trip into town went smoothly, with Sam mostly keeping to the seat he’d claimed. Pulling up in front of the clinic, though, Sam seemed to finally catch on to what was happening. It took Dean and Bobby nearly half an hour to get the cat out of the car and even then, it was with plenty of scratches along their arms and hands. Finally, though, Dean had the pouting cat tucked under one arm. Bobby stayed outside to chat with some of the townsfolk.
The wait was thankfully short and Sam didn’t fuss much once the vet took him from Dean, but as soon as she was done, he was immediately at the door, obviously wanting out. Dean scooped him up, paid the vet and carried his brother out to the Impala, where Sam curled up in the passenger seat and glowered at the world.
Dean shook his head as they headed back to the house. “It’s a good thing you’ll only be like this for six months.”