Fic: Sam & Dom (SPN and Fast and the Furious xover)
Sam has never been caught jacking a car before. John taught him well, then, Dean refined things. The bottom line is, Sam is damn good at getting into any lock on any car. The Civic is no different than some, easier than most. Money is rarely invested in security on cars like this. It’s all under the hood.
What Sam wants isn’t the car, though. It’s the ebony-beaded rosary hanging from the rear view mirror. However, what was supposed to a quick snatch of this artifact Sam needs gets complicated real fast. The Japanese muscle is apparently owned (and guarded) by American muscle, on two legs and arms the size of Sam’s thighs.
“You scratch my paintjob and I can promise you won’t die fast.”
Sam freezes, glancing at the owner of the sandpaper voice with his lock-picking tools hanging out of the driver’s side door and his denim-clad knees digging into the pebbles of the parking lot.
“Stand up and turn around. I’m still not guaranteeing you’ll live, but doing what I tell ya makes me more inclined to listen to what you got to say for yourself.”
Sam eases up and winces when the cartilage in one knee pops as he straightens it out. His hands are still dangling at his sides, but he’s really careful as he turns. The sooner he can get rid of this dude, the faster he’s out of here before any else shows up. Guys like this don’t usually travel alone. And any stories involving rosaries and ritualistic sacrifices are just going to get him a cocked eyebrow and probably a punch in the face.
“If I’d known the car was yours, I wouldn’t have tried to steal it.”
American Muscle throws a look of disbelief in Sam’s direction and crosses his arms over his substantial chest. Sam grins coyly and shakes his head enough that his bangs fall down into his eyes and shrugs his shoulders. It’s gotten him out of more scrapes than fist fighting.
“Okay, maybe I still would have jacked it, but I’d have waited for you to come along for the ride.”
Sam is not unaware of his impressive repertoire of expressions and knows how to play up the big, cute puppy angle. If a sexy smirk on bald, dark and handsome doesn’t work, he’s pretty sure he can outrun him. Sam’s not in the habit of picking up girls or guys, unlike his older brother, and he’s just gotten to the point where he does realize there’s an attraction to both, but if he did, he’d have to admit this guy would totally be his type. Matter of fact, he’s pretty sure this dude would even be Dean’s type. He had an aura of power and confidence that made him just dangerous enough.
What he’s not prepared for is the loud, deep from the belly laugh. “Uh, yeah, kid. Not only am I not going to let you go for a quick roll in the hay, I’m not in the habit of picking up jailbait.”
Well, there was that. Sam was 17, looking at least a couple of years younger. It was the bane of his existence and the cause of being shot down with anyone at all he’d ever wanted to impress. The easy smile turned into a frown at the insult to his dignity and he huffed out a loud breath of exasperation.
“Look, dude, you’re not going to believe this, but I actually wasn’t going to steal your car. My name is Sam and I’m doing this for a college fraternity prank. I was just going to take that rosary.” Sam half turns, pointing to the dangling beads through the car window.
The car’s owner didn’t look impressed, or inclined to believe Sam. Shit.
“Yeah, right. Whatever. You’re coming with me.”
Sam had one more spiel he could try and he was winding up for the “my brother’s in the hospital and I just needed a car to go see him, when American Muscle held up his hand like Sam had already started to speak.
“Save it, kid. At this point I wouldn’t believe you if you told me your mother was dying and you wanted to go visit her in the hospital.”
Sam snapped his mouth shut and glared at him through slitted eyes. “Don’t you say anything about my mother,” he ground out through gritted teeth and the other guy actually looked taken aback for a few seconds. Then he came toward Sam, obviously intent on making Sam go with him.
One good thing about being tall was the long reach of Sam’s arms. Probably before the big guy thought he was in danger, Sam’s fist connected, but the bald head just snapped back for an instant before Sam found his arms being held in the vice-grip of strong, meaty fingers. “Nice crosscut, kid.”
+++
A half-hour later, Sam was sitting at the kitchen table of an old bungalow in the same neighborhood where the car was parked.
“Sam Winchester, huh? You wanna tell me what you were really doing trying to jack my ride?” The owner of the car, and presumably the rosary Sam was still determined to take back with him, leaned back against the Formica counter and flipped through Sam’s wallet. He’d told Sam his name was Dom, but that was it. At least he could stop with the American Muscle moniker.
Sam sat stubbornly quiet, arms crossed over his chest, glaring straight ahead at a crucifix hanging on the dining room wall opposite. Dom looked ready to beat an answer out of him when the back door opened and dark haired girl about Sam’s age practically fell through with several bags of groceries.
“Mia, set those down and go to your room.”
It was not surprise to Sam when her expression turned stormy as she dropped the bags on the counter and turned to face Dom. “You are not the boss of me. You might be my brother, but you don’t order me around like that.” She whirled back and almost tripped over Sam’s long legs sticking out and pulled back, surprised, like she’d just realized he was there. “Who’re you?”
Sam opened his mouth, but Dom cut him off. “Nobody you need to know. Don’t you have homework to do?” And if Sam didn’t think he was already in enough hot water, he probably would have laughed when a clean skillet sitting on the stove went flying across the room just before Mia made her exit.
Dom simply chuckled, picked up the pan and placed it back on the burner, then swiveled around to the fridge and pulled out two beers, tossing one to Sam. “You got a sister?”
Sam shook his head no and popped the top on the can. “One brother’s enough sometimes,” Sam said and took a sip. Dom nodded and downed half his beer in one go before sitting down across the table from Sam.
“You know... I usually don’t bring car thieves home, but I’m also a pretty good judge of people. You don’t strike me as the juvenile delinquent type. What’s your story?”
Yeah, like he’d believe me, Sam thought. What he did tell Dom, though, was as pretty close to the truth as he could get away with without disclosing his families secrets. He explained about wanting the rosary. That he’d traced it through a series of sales and records as the last of its kind.
Shaking his head and finishing his beer, Sam said, “I know you think I’m still lying, but that’s really the truth. That’s not just an ordinary set of rosary beads. It’s an artifact. One that I need.” But, that’s all he’d say.
By the time Sam was finishing up his story, two more guys had joined Dom in the kitchen. They were all obviously long time friends. Something Sam didn’t know much about. It was pretty obvious that Dom made a habit of taking in lost puppies in the form of misfits, be it old friends or new.
++
The next morning Sam woke up with a crick in his neck and a pain in his back from sleeping on a sofa that was about a foot too short. One beer had turned into five and he and the guys had wound up playing video games until 2 a.m. He’d planned to leave as soon as Dom went to bed, but the dude totally outdrank Sam last night. Stumbling into the kitchen, he smelled the coffee before he saw Mia.
“Morning sunshine,” she said, all smile an dimples and not a sign of the pissed off little sister of the evening before. She looked Sam up and down, appraisingly, causing him to blush, then set a cup down on the table. “You drink coffee?”
“God, yes,” Sam muttered and slumped down into the chair, cradling the steaming cup lovingly in his hands. Mia sat next to him with her own cup.
“Dom had to go to the store early to open, but told me to give you this before you left.” She slid an envelope across the table and patted his arm, still smiling. Sam might have developed a little bit of a crush right then and there.
Smiling back he pulled the envelope to him and opened the barely stuck flap, listening to the weird slide of something rustling around inside. Tipping it on one end, the black rosary slithered out and Mia’s eyes got wide when she saw what it was her brother had given Sam. He watched her, a little worried it was something of a family heirloom and now he’d get grief from her.
“Uh... I might have admired it yesterday,” he said by way of explanation. “Is it okay?” Sam chewed on his bottom lip, ready to make a run for it if she made a big deal. The rosary was invaluable, but not in the monetary sense.
Slowly Mia shock turned to amusement and shook her head and slid her chair back, standing. “Oh, no. Doesn’t really mean anything to me. I’m just surprised he’s giving it up...especially to you.” She was definitely finding the situation humorous.
“Why’s that?” Sam asked, slipping the beaded chain into his pocket before standing to get his jacket. He really did need to head back quickly.
“Because his girlfriend, Letty, gave it to him.” As Mia swept out of the room, Sam could have sworn he heard a muffled laugh.
What Sam wants isn’t the car, though. It’s the ebony-beaded rosary hanging from the rear view mirror. However, what was supposed to a quick snatch of this artifact Sam needs gets complicated real fast. The Japanese muscle is apparently owned (and guarded) by American muscle, on two legs and arms the size of Sam’s thighs.
“You scratch my paintjob and I can promise you won’t die fast.”
Sam freezes, glancing at the owner of the sandpaper voice with his lock-picking tools hanging out of the driver’s side door and his denim-clad knees digging into the pebbles of the parking lot.
“Stand up and turn around. I’m still not guaranteeing you’ll live, but doing what I tell ya makes me more inclined to listen to what you got to say for yourself.”
Sam eases up and winces when the cartilage in one knee pops as he straightens it out. His hands are still dangling at his sides, but he’s really careful as he turns. The sooner he can get rid of this dude, the faster he’s out of here before any else shows up. Guys like this don’t usually travel alone. And any stories involving rosaries and ritualistic sacrifices are just going to get him a cocked eyebrow and probably a punch in the face.
“If I’d known the car was yours, I wouldn’t have tried to steal it.”
American Muscle throws a look of disbelief in Sam’s direction and crosses his arms over his substantial chest. Sam grins coyly and shakes his head enough that his bangs fall down into his eyes and shrugs his shoulders. It’s gotten him out of more scrapes than fist fighting.
“Okay, maybe I still would have jacked it, but I’d have waited for you to come along for the ride.”
Sam is not unaware of his impressive repertoire of expressions and knows how to play up the big, cute puppy angle. If a sexy smirk on bald, dark and handsome doesn’t work, he’s pretty sure he can outrun him. Sam’s not in the habit of picking up girls or guys, unlike his older brother, and he’s just gotten to the point where he does realize there’s an attraction to both, but if he did, he’d have to admit this guy would totally be his type. Matter of fact, he’s pretty sure this dude would even be Dean’s type. He had an aura of power and confidence that made him just dangerous enough.
What he’s not prepared for is the loud, deep from the belly laugh. “Uh, yeah, kid. Not only am I not going to let you go for a quick roll in the hay, I’m not in the habit of picking up jailbait.”
Well, there was that. Sam was 17, looking at least a couple of years younger. It was the bane of his existence and the cause of being shot down with anyone at all he’d ever wanted to impress. The easy smile turned into a frown at the insult to his dignity and he huffed out a loud breath of exasperation.
“Look, dude, you’re not going to believe this, but I actually wasn’t going to steal your car. My name is Sam and I’m doing this for a college fraternity prank. I was just going to take that rosary.” Sam half turns, pointing to the dangling beads through the car window.
The car’s owner didn’t look impressed, or inclined to believe Sam. Shit.
“Yeah, right. Whatever. You’re coming with me.”
Sam had one more spiel he could try and he was winding up for the “my brother’s in the hospital and I just needed a car to go see him, when American Muscle held up his hand like Sam had already started to speak.
“Save it, kid. At this point I wouldn’t believe you if you told me your mother was dying and you wanted to go visit her in the hospital.”
Sam snapped his mouth shut and glared at him through slitted eyes. “Don’t you say anything about my mother,” he ground out through gritted teeth and the other guy actually looked taken aback for a few seconds. Then he came toward Sam, obviously intent on making Sam go with him.
One good thing about being tall was the long reach of Sam’s arms. Probably before the big guy thought he was in danger, Sam’s fist connected, but the bald head just snapped back for an instant before Sam found his arms being held in the vice-grip of strong, meaty fingers. “Nice crosscut, kid.”
+++
A half-hour later, Sam was sitting at the kitchen table of an old bungalow in the same neighborhood where the car was parked.
“Sam Winchester, huh? You wanna tell me what you were really doing trying to jack my ride?” The owner of the car, and presumably the rosary Sam was still determined to take back with him, leaned back against the Formica counter and flipped through Sam’s wallet. He’d told Sam his name was Dom, but that was it. At least he could stop with the American Muscle moniker.
Sam sat stubbornly quiet, arms crossed over his chest, glaring straight ahead at a crucifix hanging on the dining room wall opposite. Dom looked ready to beat an answer out of him when the back door opened and dark haired girl about Sam’s age practically fell through with several bags of groceries.
“Mia, set those down and go to your room.”
It was not surprise to Sam when her expression turned stormy as she dropped the bags on the counter and turned to face Dom. “You are not the boss of me. You might be my brother, but you don’t order me around like that.” She whirled back and almost tripped over Sam’s long legs sticking out and pulled back, surprised, like she’d just realized he was there. “Who’re you?”
Sam opened his mouth, but Dom cut him off. “Nobody you need to know. Don’t you have homework to do?” And if Sam didn’t think he was already in enough hot water, he probably would have laughed when a clean skillet sitting on the stove went flying across the room just before Mia made her exit.
Dom simply chuckled, picked up the pan and placed it back on the burner, then swiveled around to the fridge and pulled out two beers, tossing one to Sam. “You got a sister?”
Sam shook his head no and popped the top on the can. “One brother’s enough sometimes,” Sam said and took a sip. Dom nodded and downed half his beer in one go before sitting down across the table from Sam.
“You know... I usually don’t bring car thieves home, but I’m also a pretty good judge of people. You don’t strike me as the juvenile delinquent type. What’s your story?”
Yeah, like he’d believe me, Sam thought. What he did tell Dom, though, was as pretty close to the truth as he could get away with without disclosing his families secrets. He explained about wanting the rosary. That he’d traced it through a series of sales and records as the last of its kind.
Shaking his head and finishing his beer, Sam said, “I know you think I’m still lying, but that’s really the truth. That’s not just an ordinary set of rosary beads. It’s an artifact. One that I need.” But, that’s all he’d say.
By the time Sam was finishing up his story, two more guys had joined Dom in the kitchen. They were all obviously long time friends. Something Sam didn’t know much about. It was pretty obvious that Dom made a habit of taking in lost puppies in the form of misfits, be it old friends or new.
++
The next morning Sam woke up with a crick in his neck and a pain in his back from sleeping on a sofa that was about a foot too short. One beer had turned into five and he and the guys had wound up playing video games until 2 a.m. He’d planned to leave as soon as Dom went to bed, but the dude totally outdrank Sam last night. Stumbling into the kitchen, he smelled the coffee before he saw Mia.
“Morning sunshine,” she said, all smile an dimples and not a sign of the pissed off little sister of the evening before. She looked Sam up and down, appraisingly, causing him to blush, then set a cup down on the table. “You drink coffee?”
“God, yes,” Sam muttered and slumped down into the chair, cradling the steaming cup lovingly in his hands. Mia sat next to him with her own cup.
“Dom had to go to the store early to open, but told me to give you this before you left.” She slid an envelope across the table and patted his arm, still smiling. Sam might have developed a little bit of a crush right then and there.
Smiling back he pulled the envelope to him and opened the barely stuck flap, listening to the weird slide of something rustling around inside. Tipping it on one end, the black rosary slithered out and Mia’s eyes got wide when she saw what it was her brother had given Sam. He watched her, a little worried it was something of a family heirloom and now he’d get grief from her.
“Uh... I might have admired it yesterday,” he said by way of explanation. “Is it okay?” Sam chewed on his bottom lip, ready to make a run for it if she made a big deal. The rosary was invaluable, but not in the monetary sense.
Slowly Mia shock turned to amusement and shook her head and slid her chair back, standing. “Oh, no. Doesn’t really mean anything to me. I’m just surprised he’s giving it up...especially to you.” She was definitely finding the situation humorous.
“Why’s that?” Sam asked, slipping the beaded chain into his pocket before standing to get his jacket. He really did need to head back quickly.
“Because his girlfriend, Letty, gave it to him.” As Mia swept out of the room, Sam could have sworn he heard a muffled laugh.