More Comment Fic (SPN only) 2/3
Title: Story of Their Lives
Author: pandionpandeus
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Sam kinda
Summary: They should have known that the supernatural world wouldn’t get the memo about what exactly a vacation entailed.
Notes: Written for the prompt: Supernatural, Sam/Dean, "Dude. We're going on vacation for one week in 10 years and of course some evil bastard is waiting for us!"
It was all over. Azazel was dead some seven or eight years, Lucifer had been sent packing and took the apocalypse with him, the angels had all more or less gone away for good (except Castiel, who made a point of checking in every so often) and the world was slowly returning to normal, or as normal as it could ever be. After all the excitement their lives had given them so far, Dean had declared that they would take a week-long vacation somewhere where it was warm and dry and just forget about hunting down monsters and ghosts and whatnot.
They should have known that the supernatural world wouldn’t get the memo about what exactly a vacation entailed. They hadn’t even gotten to their destination when real life caught up to them.
Fifteen miles out from Balboa (a suburb of San Diego, California), Bobby called Sam about a seriously pissed off poltergeist that was wrecking havoc in public venues not four blocks from where they’d planned to stay. Dean wasn’t exactly happy when Sam told him.
"Dude. We're going on vacation for one week in 10 years and of course some evil bastard is waiting for us! Story of our freaking lives!"
Sam sighed. “Pretty much. How about we gank the ghost, then start our week of vacation after that?”
Considering it, Dean nodded. “Yeah, okay. But I so call first dibs on the hot tub!”
---
Title: Frustration with Faeries
Author: pandionpandeus
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean
Summary: "They're like tribbles."
Notes: Written for the prompt: Supernatural, Dean & Sam, "They're like tribbles..."
Sam glared at the faeries he’d caught in the jar. The brightly colored creatures buzzed at the glass in frustration and he tried to get a head count. “They’re like tribbles,” he muttered after a moment.
“What?” Dean looked up from where he was browsing the internet for information on how to get rid of the pests.
Standing straight, Sam sighed as he joined his brother at the table. “The faeries. They’re like tribbles.”
Dean frowned. “What’s a tribble?”
“Little, fluffy orange creature from Star Trek. They multiply like rabbits, except faster.”
Raising an eyebrow, the elder hunter peered at the buzzing jar. “You mean there’s more of them in there than we started with?”
“Exactly,” Sam said, sighing again. “Any luck finding out how to get rid of them?”
Dean shrugged. “Nope. Bobby’s never come across any before and he doesn’t know anyone who has. Half of these sites are impossible and the other half are so far off their rocker, I can’t figure out if there’s anything useful on ‘em.”
They sat in silence for a few moments.
“We’re going to need more jars, aren’t we?”
“Yup.”
---
Title: Strip Poker a la Angel of the Lord
Author: pandionpandeus
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Summary: Dean and Cas play strip poker. What more do you want me to say?
Notes: Written for the prompt: Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, Strip poker
“Raise,” Dean said, sliding in six jelly beans. Castiel considered the move, then slid seven into the pot.
“Raise,” the angel echoed, not bothering to check his cards. Dean scowled at him over the tops of his own cards, then tossed a single candy into the pile.
“Match,” he said wearily. Cas didn’t raise again, so he tossed down his cards, face up, onto the bed they were playing on.
Castiel nodded at Dean’s hand. Two tens, two kings and an ace. Not the worst hand he’d had all day, but not the best, either. Flipping over his own cards, the angel spread them out. Four twos and an eight.
“Dammit, Cas!” the hunter muttered, his voice muffled as he pulled his undershirt off, leaving him in his boxers and one sock. “I only taught you how to play poker two days ago! Why am I almost naked when you’re only missing your shoes and your tie?!”
Admiring the view subtly as Dean’s toned chest was revealed, Castiel shrugged. “I had good incentive,” he explained, scooping the jelly beans over to his side of the bed and returning the cards to the deck to be shuffled again.
Dean gaped for a moment, then grinned, tossing his shirt aside. “You’d think you’d have incentive to lose a bit more often, too, wouldn’t you?”
The angel raised an eyebrow, considering Dean’s words. “I suppose I do. Would you like to shuffle this time?”
“Yeah, sure,” Dean said, accepting the deck. “You going to lose this round?”
“Only if you let me win the next time,” the angel replied.
---
Title: From a Mile Away
Author: pandionpandeus
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Missouri, Gabriel
Summary: She had seen him coming.
Notes: Written for the prompt: Supernatural, Missouri & Gabriel, Gotta say, she saw him comin'.
Well, Missouri thought, stirring the soup. Gotta say, she saw him comin’. Hadn’t really expected the reality to match up to Sam and Dean’s tales, but she had seen him coming.
“So,” Gabriel said, leaning on the counter and peering into the pot. “What’s for dessert?”
Seeing his hand reach for a taste before it actually did, she brandished the spoon. “No tasting. And dessert will be what dessert will be. Now, go set the table. And put out five plates. We’ll have company tonight.”
Gabriel made a face at the cupboards, as Missouri had gotten Castiel to come show her some sigils to negate angelic and demonic power within the house and the angel disliked not being able to snap things around as he liked.
“Complain and I’ve got some grout in the upstairs bathroom that could use cleaning.”
Horrified, Gabriel pointedly didn’t say anything as he got the plates and bowls out of the cupboard and flounced into the dining room. Missouri smiled into the soup.
He came back into the kitchen a few minutes later and she pointed to the pantry. “Twizzlers are on the bottom shelf,” she told him.
“Oh, you harlot,” he said, aghast. “I can’t believe that you’ve kept those from me!” But he pulled the bin out and hopped up onto the counter, two already dangling from his mouth.
Turning off the burner, she picked up the pot of soup. “Call me a harlot again and I won’t make strawberry shortcake for dessert.”
The archangel was the very picture of politeness for the rest of his stay.
---
Author: pandionpandeus
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Sam kinda
Summary: They should have known that the supernatural world wouldn’t get the memo about what exactly a vacation entailed.
Notes: Written for the prompt: Supernatural, Sam/Dean, "Dude. We're going on vacation for one week in 10 years and of course some evil bastard is waiting for us!"
It was all over. Azazel was dead some seven or eight years, Lucifer had been sent packing and took the apocalypse with him, the angels had all more or less gone away for good (except Castiel, who made a point of checking in every so often) and the world was slowly returning to normal, or as normal as it could ever be. After all the excitement their lives had given them so far, Dean had declared that they would take a week-long vacation somewhere where it was warm and dry and just forget about hunting down monsters and ghosts and whatnot.
They should have known that the supernatural world wouldn’t get the memo about what exactly a vacation entailed. They hadn’t even gotten to their destination when real life caught up to them.
Fifteen miles out from Balboa (a suburb of San Diego, California), Bobby called Sam about a seriously pissed off poltergeist that was wrecking havoc in public venues not four blocks from where they’d planned to stay. Dean wasn’t exactly happy when Sam told him.
"Dude. We're going on vacation for one week in 10 years and of course some evil bastard is waiting for us! Story of our freaking lives!"
Sam sighed. “Pretty much. How about we gank the ghost, then start our week of vacation after that?”
Considering it, Dean nodded. “Yeah, okay. But I so call first dibs on the hot tub!”
---
Title: Frustration with Faeries
Author: pandionpandeus
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean
Summary: "They're like tribbles."
Notes: Written for the prompt: Supernatural, Dean & Sam, "They're like tribbles..."
Sam glared at the faeries he’d caught in the jar. The brightly colored creatures buzzed at the glass in frustration and he tried to get a head count. “They’re like tribbles,” he muttered after a moment.
“What?” Dean looked up from where he was browsing the internet for information on how to get rid of the pests.
Standing straight, Sam sighed as he joined his brother at the table. “The faeries. They’re like tribbles.”
Dean frowned. “What’s a tribble?”
“Little, fluffy orange creature from Star Trek. They multiply like rabbits, except faster.”
Raising an eyebrow, the elder hunter peered at the buzzing jar. “You mean there’s more of them in there than we started with?”
“Exactly,” Sam said, sighing again. “Any luck finding out how to get rid of them?”
Dean shrugged. “Nope. Bobby’s never come across any before and he doesn’t know anyone who has. Half of these sites are impossible and the other half are so far off their rocker, I can’t figure out if there’s anything useful on ‘em.”
They sat in silence for a few moments.
“We’re going to need more jars, aren’t we?”
“Yup.”
---
Title: Strip Poker a la Angel of the Lord
Author: pandionpandeus
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Summary: Dean and Cas play strip poker. What more do you want me to say?
Notes: Written for the prompt: Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, Strip poker
“Raise,” Dean said, sliding in six jelly beans. Castiel considered the move, then slid seven into the pot.
“Raise,” the angel echoed, not bothering to check his cards. Dean scowled at him over the tops of his own cards, then tossed a single candy into the pile.
“Match,” he said wearily. Cas didn’t raise again, so he tossed down his cards, face up, onto the bed they were playing on.
Castiel nodded at Dean’s hand. Two tens, two kings and an ace. Not the worst hand he’d had all day, but not the best, either. Flipping over his own cards, the angel spread them out. Four twos and an eight.
“Dammit, Cas!” the hunter muttered, his voice muffled as he pulled his undershirt off, leaving him in his boxers and one sock. “I only taught you how to play poker two days ago! Why am I almost naked when you’re only missing your shoes and your tie?!”
Admiring the view subtly as Dean’s toned chest was revealed, Castiel shrugged. “I had good incentive,” he explained, scooping the jelly beans over to his side of the bed and returning the cards to the deck to be shuffled again.
Dean gaped for a moment, then grinned, tossing his shirt aside. “You’d think you’d have incentive to lose a bit more often, too, wouldn’t you?”
The angel raised an eyebrow, considering Dean’s words. “I suppose I do. Would you like to shuffle this time?”
“Yeah, sure,” Dean said, accepting the deck. “You going to lose this round?”
“Only if you let me win the next time,” the angel replied.
---
Title: From a Mile Away
Author: pandionpandeus
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Missouri, Gabriel
Summary: She had seen him coming.
Notes: Written for the prompt: Supernatural, Missouri & Gabriel, Gotta say, she saw him comin'.
Well, Missouri thought, stirring the soup. Gotta say, she saw him comin’. Hadn’t really expected the reality to match up to Sam and Dean’s tales, but she had seen him coming.
“So,” Gabriel said, leaning on the counter and peering into the pot. “What’s for dessert?”
Seeing his hand reach for a taste before it actually did, she brandished the spoon. “No tasting. And dessert will be what dessert will be. Now, go set the table. And put out five plates. We’ll have company tonight.”
Gabriel made a face at the cupboards, as Missouri had gotten Castiel to come show her some sigils to negate angelic and demonic power within the house and the angel disliked not being able to snap things around as he liked.
“Complain and I’ve got some grout in the upstairs bathroom that could use cleaning.”
Horrified, Gabriel pointedly didn’t say anything as he got the plates and bowls out of the cupboard and flounced into the dining room. Missouri smiled into the soup.
He came back into the kitchen a few minutes later and she pointed to the pantry. “Twizzlers are on the bottom shelf,” she told him.
“Oh, you harlot,” he said, aghast. “I can’t believe that you’ve kept those from me!” But he pulled the bin out and hopped up onto the counter, two already dangling from his mouth.
Turning off the burner, she picked up the pot of soup. “Call me a harlot again and I won’t make strawberry shortcake for dessert.”
The archangel was the very picture of politeness for the rest of his stay.
---