JEEZE, You Guys are SUCH a Bad Influence on Me ...
Okay, I have to ask: Which part of writing a Supernatural/Grey's Anatomy crossover did y'all not get was all about writing Jeffrey Dean hanging out with Jeffrey Dean? *snerk* And, you know, a sequel with Sam and Dean going to meet FRED WARD (dammit!) would necessarily take place after John was DEAD. And John lives ... I have an icon to prove it!
Okay, fine. I'm not sayin I'll write it. Okay. Fine. I'm saying I'm already writing it, but I not sayin I'll finish it. But just because you guys are SUCH a freaking bad influence on me, here's something to torture you the way all Supernatural fans obviously love to be tortured or we wouldn't be so freakin fond of Kripke smashing a mac truck into our boys then leaving us hanging for the entire hiatus before KILLING JOHN, dammit!
Prodigal Sons (just a teaser) ...
Dean pulled the Impala to the curb, let it idle for a minute, then gunned it a little just to hear the sound of it rebel against the quiet still of this exclusive neighborhood. Sam shot him a dirty look. Dean ignored it, studying the house across the street with a critical eye.
House wasn’t really an accurate term. Mansion was closer. Castle, maybe. Whoever this Duquette guy was, the bastard must be really loaded.
"Are you sure this is the right place, Sammy?" Dean asked skeptically.
"I’m sure," Sam said. But he didn’t look any more sure than Dean felt.
"Huh," Dean said after a long beat. "Maybe Dad was holding out on us all these years. Maybe we’re related to the Munsters."
Sam snorted.
"If we are," Dean added, "I’ve got dibs on the hot chick."
"You are sick," Sam assured him.
"Better than calling dibs on Herman," Dean returned.
"Really sick," Sam revised.
...
What? *innocent face*