Merry Christmas + 1 ficlet
Merry Christmas, to anyone on my flist celebrating! :D :D :D I HOPE YOU ALL GET SO MANY PRESENTS
And Merry Christmas to morganoconner -- I promised you a SPN/SGA mashup AU bb, so here it is. :D
It's short and sort of pointless but I hope you like it anyway. <3
It's noon on P3X-M4S, and Dean and Gabriel are sitting on a low stone wall -- which is nearly all that remains of an ancient and powerful civilization -- keeping watch. And eating. And arguing.
"There is no way that's really a tradition on your planet," Dean says skeptically.
"It totally is," Gabriel insists. He raises the hand that isn't occupied with a Milky Way and holds up two fingers. "Scout's Honor."
"And you were definitely never a Boy Scout. How do you even know about that?"
Gabriel takes another bite of his candy bar. "I watch a lot of movies."
Dean snorts. Gabriel's even more full of shit than usual today. He's in a good mood, which means he's telling unlikely stories about his own long-lost planet which Dean is increasingly sure is entirely imaginary. "You know, I'm really starting to doubt that you're actually an alien at all."
Gabriel looked down at himself -- rough homespun linen shirt and pants, leather thong around his neck holding government-issue dog tags and a twisted metal pendant that occasionally glowed with its own unearthly light -- and frowned. "What, this isn't weird enough for you? What do you want, tentacles?"
"Can you guys keep it down over there?" Sam whined. He and Cas had been bent over a rock for the last hour, trying to decipher what Sam insisted was a control interface, Cas insisted was an alien language and Dean insisted was just some random scratches, Jesus Christ on a crutch. "Some of us are trying to work."
"We're working! We are protecting you hardworking scientific-types from any vicious monsters, Wraith or killer bunny rabbits out to interrupt the wondrous process of discovery."
"Shut up, Dean."
"That's shut up, sir," Dean said, flipping out his sunglasses and sliding them on to his face. He'd been waiting about fifteen minutes for Sam to give him the opening for a snappy comeback-and-sunglasses combo.
"One day, Dean," Sam muttered. "One day I will outrank you and you will be doing so many pushups."
"Shaking in my boots, Sammy." Dean patted his brand-new oak leaf lovingly. The command structure on Atlantis might be fucked six ways from Sunday, but it was ideally set up for Dean to stay at least one rank ahead of Sammy until retirement.
"Aha!" Cas crowed, leaping to his feet in triumph. Then his face fell. "Oh wait, never mind."
Dean sighed. "Ten more minutes, children, then recess is over."
"Want to play poker while we wait?" Gabriel fanned a deck of cards he'd produced from one of his many invisible pockets. "Blackjack? Gin rummy? Go Fish?"
"Seriously, how could you possibly -- you know what? Never mind." Dean sighed and picked up his hand of cards. "Got any two's?"
"Go fish."
And Merry Christmas to morganoconner -- I promised you a SPN/SGA mashup AU bb, so here it is. :D
It's short and sort of pointless but I hope you like it anyway. <3
It's noon on P3X-M4S, and Dean and Gabriel are sitting on a low stone wall -- which is nearly all that remains of an ancient and powerful civilization -- keeping watch. And eating. And arguing.
"There is no way that's really a tradition on your planet," Dean says skeptically.
"It totally is," Gabriel insists. He raises the hand that isn't occupied with a Milky Way and holds up two fingers. "Scout's Honor."
"And you were definitely never a Boy Scout. How do you even know about that?"
Gabriel takes another bite of his candy bar. "I watch a lot of movies."
Dean snorts. Gabriel's even more full of shit than usual today. He's in a good mood, which means he's telling unlikely stories about his own long-lost planet which Dean is increasingly sure is entirely imaginary. "You know, I'm really starting to doubt that you're actually an alien at all."
Gabriel looked down at himself -- rough homespun linen shirt and pants, leather thong around his neck holding government-issue dog tags and a twisted metal pendant that occasionally glowed with its own unearthly light -- and frowned. "What, this isn't weird enough for you? What do you want, tentacles?"
"Can you guys keep it down over there?" Sam whined. He and Cas had been bent over a rock for the last hour, trying to decipher what Sam insisted was a control interface, Cas insisted was an alien language and Dean insisted was just some random scratches, Jesus Christ on a crutch. "Some of us are trying to work."
"We're working! We are protecting you hardworking scientific-types from any vicious monsters, Wraith or killer bunny rabbits out to interrupt the wondrous process of discovery."
"Shut up, Dean."
"That's shut up, sir," Dean said, flipping out his sunglasses and sliding them on to his face. He'd been waiting about fifteen minutes for Sam to give him the opening for a snappy comeback-and-sunglasses combo.
"One day, Dean," Sam muttered. "One day I will outrank you and you will be doing so many pushups."
"Shaking in my boots, Sammy." Dean patted his brand-new oak leaf lovingly. The command structure on Atlantis might be fucked six ways from Sunday, but it was ideally set up for Dean to stay at least one rank ahead of Sammy until retirement.
"Aha!" Cas crowed, leaping to his feet in triumph. Then his face fell. "Oh wait, never mind."
Dean sighed. "Ten more minutes, children, then recess is over."
"Want to play poker while we wait?" Gabriel fanned a deck of cards he'd produced from one of his many invisible pockets. "Blackjack? Gin rummy? Go Fish?"
"Seriously, how could you possibly -- you know what? Never mind." Dean sighed and picked up his hand of cards. "Got any two's?"
"Go fish."