fic: All that is gold
Title: All that is gold
Summary: ... does not glitter, as Tolkien once pointed out, but Jess has never read "The Lord of the Rings", even though it's Sam's favourite. -- missing scene for Pilot
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Indeed.
AN: In most versions of the Arthurian legends, Lancelot became a monk after the death of Arthur at the hands of Mordred. And, obviously, he was the one Arthur's wife Guinevere fell in love with.
Jess decided quite early on in their relationship that she hated Sam’s family. Well, perhaps hate was too strong a word, but she certainly wasn’t what you’d call kindly disposed to them. From what Sam had told her - or rather, not told her - his Dad wasn’t exactly role model material. Who fights with their son when he gets a full ride to an Ivy League college?
And the scars scattered across Sam’s chest and arms (but not his back) spoke for themselves, Jess felt. There weren’t many, but even one was enough.
So she wasn’t really surprised that his older brother turned out to be an ass. Hitting on her while Sam was still in the room! And then dragging him off to go look for their absent Dad not two days before the interview that could make or break his whole future. Gorgeous he might be, this Dean Winchester, but as far as Jess could see, he was a selfish idiot.
She followed them out to the car, a huge black gas-guzzling monstrosity… all right, it was beautiful, and she loved it on sight, but she was also determined not to like anything about the man, not a single god-damned thing, so she just glared.
And eavesdropped, of course.
“How far is it, anyway?” Sam was saying.
Dean shrugged. “Should be there by midmorning. Don’t worry, I’ll toss you out if you get carsick again.”
“Dude. I was six. And I’d just spent the week in bed with the flu.”
“You swore on Lancelot you were perfectly fine! And then Dad chewed me out for believing you.”
“Dean, come on. You could tell Dad you were personally responsible for the collapse of Soviet Russia and the fall of the Iron Curtain and he’d believe you.”
Dean’s grin was wide and wicked. “What makes you so sure I wasn’t?”
But before Sam could answer, Jess’ curiosity got the better of her. “Who was Lancelot?”
“Sammy’s teddy bear,” Dean explained.
“Rumour has it Dean’s was called King Arthur, but I never saw it,” Sam grinned.
“At least I don’t end up becoming a monk,” Dean shot back.
“Nor do you get the girl,” Sam pointed out.
Dean assumed a pious expression. Jess was positive it was so much bullcrap. “It’s not like my whole life revolves around girls, Sammy.”
Twice now he’d called him that. Simon had only dared it once. In four years of him and Sam knowing each other. Nobody else had ever tried.
“Since when have you been anything close to virtuous?”
“Maybe it’s time to turn over a new leaf.” Dean was still grinning, from ear to ear, looking completely delighted, as if this conversation, in the middle of a deserted Palo Alto street at half three in the morning, was the most fun he’d had in years.
“Why, did hell freeze over when I wasn’t looking?” Sam enquired.
Dean cackled. “Next demon we meet, we’ll ask,” he promised. “Two minutes, then get in the car.” He ducked into the driver’s seat and slammed the door shut, giving them the illusion of privacy to say goodbye in.
Jess was about stunned by that gesture.
Sam caught her look. “He only hit on you to annoy me, you know,” he said.
She raised her eyebrows at him. “If you say so.”
Sam’s mouth thinned, a look she recognised. He often got it when his family came into the conversation. Only this time, she realised, it wasn’t thinking of his Dad that put it there, but her insulting Dean.
Jess sighed. “Sorry.”
Sam just kissed her again. “I love you.”
“Love you too. Be safe!”
“Don’t worry. Dean’ll look out for me.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. And who’ll look out for him?”
“Don’t be. And I will. Duh.”
He blew her a kiss before he get in the car, but she wrapped her arms around herself with a shiver as she stepped back and watched it disappear round the corner. It was way too cold to be out here barefoot.