Mocha 26 & CCM 21, now with more fluff!
Author: Casey
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy (NIEE) universe, Post NIEE
Challenge: Mocha 26 (tada!) & CCM 21 (modest)
Toppings & Extras: Caramel, Chopped Nuts, Milkshake (Carrie is Marina’s character)
Word Count: 1,024
Rating: G
Summary: Dean and Carrie attempt art with a few distractions.
Notes: Pure fluff warning! Dean is from my universe, but Carrie’s from Marina’s Dragon World (her recent plots). In our opinion, despite their different backgrounds, Carrie/Dean are a OTP. Thus, I ‘imported’ Carrie for an older Dean. They should both be 16 at this point.
Dean sat cross-legged in the backyard, near the garden. Calmly, he whittled small strips of wood from the piece held tightly in one hand. Engrossed in his work, he only looked up when he heard the happy sigh. He glanced up to find that Carrie had set aside her sketch pad and was staring out at the sunset. “Thought you were going to draw that,” he pointed out in amusement.
She grinned, sitting back, hands supporting her. “I might still. I was drawing you anyway.”
Dean felt the blush creep up his cheeks. “The point was that you were going to draw the garden with the sunset.”
“You’re far more interesting,” Carrie said. “And you have the greatest focus face. Honestly, you should see yourself!”
“You’re laughing at me…” Dean said, a little amused despite himself.
“Only a little. Did you know you stick your tongue out when you concentrate?”
“I am no longer amused.”
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, an easy enough feat since they were sitting practically shoulder to shoulder. “Liar.”
“Let me see it.”
“I don’t think I shall.”
Now Dean grinned, reaching over and tickling her in the side. As she burst into giggles, squirming away, he reached past her and neatly snagged the sketch pad. He held it out in front of him, staring at it critically. He hadn’t seen himself much - they didn’t own a mirror, so he only saw himself on occasion when he visited the castle - but the likeness seemed accurate enough. “You could have drawn me without the tongue sticking out.”
“I’m an artist. I don’t take liberties like that,” Carrie said righteously, poking him in the side.
“Bullshit,” Dean said, holding the sketch pad out of reach as she grabbed at it. “I’m not done yet.”
“Give it back! You don’t see me stealing...”
The realization hit them at the same time and both lunged for Dean’s small in-progress figurine. The ensuing scrabble resulted in Carrie on top, Dean laughing too hard to fight back. Carrie grinned down at him smugly, holding up the figurine. “What is this anyway?”
“I’m not telling,” Dean told her, crossing his arms behind his head.
Again, she poked him, this time in the stomach. “Tell meeee,” she said with a winning smile.
“It’s you.”
“Dean, it has four legs.”
“You don’t? OW!” he yelped, wiggling as she punched him hard in the shoulder, still laughing.
“Don’t mess with me, Dean Dakamar.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Carrie Michaels. And, that reminds me, you’re still sitting on me.”
“Your point?”
“You could get off?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Because you...” he trailed off. Although the pair had been dating for a few months at this point, the words ‘I love you’ were not yet part of the vocabulary.
“If you tell me what the carving is, I’ll get off.”
“It’s going to be a surprise.”
“Not anymore!”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Dean said and then promptly rolled her off him and sat up, grinning down at her surprise.
“How’d you do that?” she sputtered.
“Care, I’ve been training in hand to hand combat since I was six.”
She paused and he could see it sinking in. “You let me win!”
He reached over and patted her on the head, darting back as she sat up and swatted at it. “Um, well, yes.” He now reached over and snagged her sketch pad, offering it back with a flourish. “Trade? You’re missing the sunset and I wanted to finish that carving today.”
Carrie sat up and eyed him for a moment as she brushed the grass from her shirt. “Trade,” she said finally, passing it back to him and snatching the sketch pad like she expected a trick.
Dean grinned, scooped up his knife and settled back in like the entire conversation and wrestling match hadn’t happened. After a minute, Carrie sat down beside him, flipping to a new page to work on the sunset.
By the time the sun had disappeared over the horizon, meaning it was too dark for the two to continue, Dean was putting the finishing touches on his carving.
“Dean, Carrie, it’s dinner time and then we need to walk Carrie home,” Russ called out the door, breaking the spell for both teens, neither of whom had realized it had gotten too dark to see their respective art projects well.
Feeling slightly sheepish for allowing time to sneak away from him, Dean stood, offering Carrie a hand as he slipped his carving knife in his belt. She took it, letting him pull her up, as she tucked her scrapbook under her arm and grinned. “Show the other one when we’re inside?”
“Deal,” he said and then watched her bounce into the house with a fond smile.
“Dean, c’mon!”
“Oh, right!” he said and hurried after her. They paused just inside the door, where enough light trickled from the kitchen for them to see by. In what had become a ritual for the two, Dean started counting. “One...Two...Three!” At that, both held up their respective art projects.
“Ooh, Dean!”
“That’s gorgeous!” They spoke at the same time and then laughed, swaping.
“I can’t believe how accurately you captured that deer we startled the other day. That is what this is, right?”
Dean shrugged. “It was no big deal. Just a matter of remembering the expression. It’s yours if you want it.”
“I couldn’t possibly!”
“Care, I have a million carvings. Please, take it.”
She hesitated and then nodded. “Fine, if you insist!”
“I do. And your colors are fantastic! It’s like I’m still staring at the sunset.”
She grinned. “Sunsets are only hard because you have to blend the colors together. Why don’t we trade again? I’ll keep the deer if you keep the sunset.”
“I’ll hang it over my bed,” he declared, carefully tearing the page out and handing her back the sketch pad, taking her hand as soon as she had it safely tucked under her arm. “C’mon, let’s not keep Dad and Russ waiting,” he said, sneaking a quick kiss as they headed for the kitchen.
Story: Nothing is Ever Easy (NIEE) universe, Post NIEE
Challenge: Mocha 26 (tada!) & CCM 21 (modest)
Toppings & Extras: Caramel, Chopped Nuts, Milkshake (Carrie is Marina’s character)
Word Count: 1,024
Rating: G
Summary: Dean and Carrie attempt art with a few distractions.
Notes: Pure fluff warning! Dean is from my universe, but Carrie’s from Marina’s Dragon World (her recent plots). In our opinion, despite their different backgrounds, Carrie/Dean are a OTP. Thus, I ‘imported’ Carrie for an older Dean. They should both be 16 at this point.
Dean sat cross-legged in the backyard, near the garden. Calmly, he whittled small strips of wood from the piece held tightly in one hand. Engrossed in his work, he only looked up when he heard the happy sigh. He glanced up to find that Carrie had set aside her sketch pad and was staring out at the sunset. “Thought you were going to draw that,” he pointed out in amusement.
She grinned, sitting back, hands supporting her. “I might still. I was drawing you anyway.”
Dean felt the blush creep up his cheeks. “The point was that you were going to draw the garden with the sunset.”
“You’re far more interesting,” Carrie said. “And you have the greatest focus face. Honestly, you should see yourself!”
“You’re laughing at me…” Dean said, a little amused despite himself.
“Only a little. Did you know you stick your tongue out when you concentrate?”
“I am no longer amused.”
She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, an easy enough feat since they were sitting practically shoulder to shoulder. “Liar.”
“Let me see it.”
“I don’t think I shall.”
Now Dean grinned, reaching over and tickling her in the side. As she burst into giggles, squirming away, he reached past her and neatly snagged the sketch pad. He held it out in front of him, staring at it critically. He hadn’t seen himself much - they didn’t own a mirror, so he only saw himself on occasion when he visited the castle - but the likeness seemed accurate enough. “You could have drawn me without the tongue sticking out.”
“I’m an artist. I don’t take liberties like that,” Carrie said righteously, poking him in the side.
“Bullshit,” Dean said, holding the sketch pad out of reach as she grabbed at it. “I’m not done yet.”
“Give it back! You don’t see me stealing...”
The realization hit them at the same time and both lunged for Dean’s small in-progress figurine. The ensuing scrabble resulted in Carrie on top, Dean laughing too hard to fight back. Carrie grinned down at him smugly, holding up the figurine. “What is this anyway?”
“I’m not telling,” Dean told her, crossing his arms behind his head.
Again, she poked him, this time in the stomach. “Tell meeee,” she said with a winning smile.
“It’s you.”
“Dean, it has four legs.”
“You don’t? OW!” he yelped, wiggling as she punched him hard in the shoulder, still laughing.
“Don’t mess with me, Dean Dakamar.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Carrie Michaels. And, that reminds me, you’re still sitting on me.”
“Your point?”
“You could get off?”
“Why would I want to do that?”
“Because you...” he trailed off. Although the pair had been dating for a few months at this point, the words ‘I love you’ were not yet part of the vocabulary.
“If you tell me what the carving is, I’ll get off.”
“It’s going to be a surprise.”
“Not anymore!”
“You drive a hard bargain,” Dean said and then promptly rolled her off him and sat up, grinning down at her surprise.
“How’d you do that?” she sputtered.
“Care, I’ve been training in hand to hand combat since I was six.”
She paused and he could see it sinking in. “You let me win!”
He reached over and patted her on the head, darting back as she sat up and swatted at it. “Um, well, yes.” He now reached over and snagged her sketch pad, offering it back with a flourish. “Trade? You’re missing the sunset and I wanted to finish that carving today.”
Carrie sat up and eyed him for a moment as she brushed the grass from her shirt. “Trade,” she said finally, passing it back to him and snatching the sketch pad like she expected a trick.
Dean grinned, scooped up his knife and settled back in like the entire conversation and wrestling match hadn’t happened. After a minute, Carrie sat down beside him, flipping to a new page to work on the sunset.
By the time the sun had disappeared over the horizon, meaning it was too dark for the two to continue, Dean was putting the finishing touches on his carving.
“Dean, Carrie, it’s dinner time and then we need to walk Carrie home,” Russ called out the door, breaking the spell for both teens, neither of whom had realized it had gotten too dark to see their respective art projects well.
Feeling slightly sheepish for allowing time to sneak away from him, Dean stood, offering Carrie a hand as he slipped his carving knife in his belt. She took it, letting him pull her up, as she tucked her scrapbook under her arm and grinned. “Show the other one when we’re inside?”
“Deal,” he said and then watched her bounce into the house with a fond smile.
“Dean, c’mon!”
“Oh, right!” he said and hurried after her. They paused just inside the door, where enough light trickled from the kitchen for them to see by. In what had become a ritual for the two, Dean started counting. “One...Two...Three!” At that, both held up their respective art projects.
“Ooh, Dean!”
“That’s gorgeous!” They spoke at the same time and then laughed, swaping.
“I can’t believe how accurately you captured that deer we startled the other day. That is what this is, right?”
Dean shrugged. “It was no big deal. Just a matter of remembering the expression. It’s yours if you want it.”
“I couldn’t possibly!”
“Care, I have a million carvings. Please, take it.”
She hesitated and then nodded. “Fine, if you insist!”
“I do. And your colors are fantastic! It’s like I’m still staring at the sunset.”
She grinned. “Sunsets are only hard because you have to blend the colors together. Why don’t we trade again? I’ll keep the deer if you keep the sunset.”
“I’ll hang it over my bed,” he declared, carefully tearing the page out and handing her back the sketch pad, taking her hand as soon as she had it safely tucked under her arm. “C’mon, let’s not keep Dad and Russ waiting,” he said, sneaking a quick kiss as they headed for the kitchen.