SPN fic: Some Kind of Wonderful 1/1
Title: Some Kind of Wonderful
Rating: G / Gen
Length: @ 700 words
Spoilers: None
Summary: Because everyone needs to do a Metallicar fic.
A/N Just a little experiment in voices and muses, while I'm chipping away at a full-length fic. ;-) Un-beta'd, so please feel free with any con-crit you may have.
.
I've seen forty years of livin' and lovin'. Forty years of hurtin' and hard times, too. Oh, I remember things seemed a little simpler back when: just the road to run on and two hands on the wheel and music, gotta have the music. First The Doors and then Zeppelin and later even a little Nine Inch Nails: oh, I expect I've heard it all, but nowadays it's strictly the good stuff. Mm, I can tell what kinda day's a-comin' just by the music they play.
Today it's Creedence Clearwater Revival, so I know we're just makin' time. Got a long strip of blacktop baked warm in the sun, and all day to get no place in particular. Oh yeah, that suits me fine. We got a good groove goin', my boys and me, and I'll take 'em anywhere they want to go. Wrap 'em up neat in over three thousand pounds of Detroit steel and, baby, I carry 'em safe as houses.
Much as I can, anyhow. Sometimes, though, they step out where I can't reach and it ain't always pretty. I've soaked up their sweat, their blood and their tears, even if it ain't often the kind of tears a body can see. But I'll take it; I'll hold 'em steady and roll along smooth until things all come 'round right.
They're my boys, see, since they were this big and their daddy held the wheel, that John who knew how to treat a woman right. Strong hands, he had, sure and quick and felt everything I needed like a man holds a violin, that fine sense playin' through his fingers. He gave his boy to me, though, that Dean with his collar turned up like he's some kind of bad. Gave him to me to carry. Dean's got the touch too, got that sweetness in him that he keeps tryin' to hide behind a steel grin and a mouth full of twaddle. Yeah, but I know him. Just like our Sam, him what I've been carryin' since it wasn't his sweat stainin' my upholstery, bless his little fool heart. Now Sammy's gotta fold himself up like a lawn chair to get in the door, but I'll hold him easy when I feel the shadows crowdin' too close. Sam don't know me like Dean does, but that's all right, that's just all right, because I know him enough for both of us.
It's the hunt, you see, the job we gotta do. No end to it, like there's no end to the highways stretchin' red and blue lines across the map. You don't stop when you reach the ocean, you just turn off north or south, you pick your road and take it where it leads and follow until it's all through. I do what I can for 'em, lend what I've got, 'cause it's my fight, too. Always has been and never mind if anybody asked me, it's just the way things are.
Oh, I got the scars to show, that I surely do, and some stains and dents don't fix. But it don't bother me none, don't bother at all, and I've got three-hundred-and-ninety-six badass horses just waitin' to smoke 'em down. Mm-mm, that's right, and when I'm the weapon you best stand back, baby, 'cause ain't nothin' gonna stop me. Don't mess with my boys, see, don't you be tryin' that, because then you gotta take us all out.
Gotta take us all, and that's been tried but we don't go down easy. No sir, ain't nothin' easy about us. Nothin' easy but the groove we got goin' and oh, ain't that just fine.
Now look at that there, a big red sun a-sinkin' down, the sky on fire and the road a copper belt that wraps the whole world 'round. Holdin' us all together, burnin' the sky pure before the night can crawl on in. Burnin' it pure because the night, it never stays, and my boys and me know how to outlast the dark.
All right, baby, let's get it on - I'm feelin' good and we got miles to go.
.
I was born in a crossfire hurricane
And I howled at my ma in the driving rain.
But it's all right now -
- In fact, it's a gas!
But it's all right - I'm Jumpin' Jack Flash,
It's a gas! gas! gas!
.
~ Rollin' Stones
.
~ * ~
.
(Originally posted to spn_gen)
Rating: G / Gen
Length: @ 700 words
Spoilers: None
Summary: Because everyone needs to do a Metallicar fic.
A/N Just a little experiment in voices and muses, while I'm chipping away at a full-length fic. ;-) Un-beta'd, so please feel free with any con-crit you may have.
.
I've seen forty years of livin' and lovin'. Forty years of hurtin' and hard times, too. Oh, I remember things seemed a little simpler back when: just the road to run on and two hands on the wheel and music, gotta have the music. First The Doors and then Zeppelin and later even a little Nine Inch Nails: oh, I expect I've heard it all, but nowadays it's strictly the good stuff. Mm, I can tell what kinda day's a-comin' just by the music they play.
Today it's Creedence Clearwater Revival, so I know we're just makin' time. Got a long strip of blacktop baked warm in the sun, and all day to get no place in particular. Oh yeah, that suits me fine. We got a good groove goin', my boys and me, and I'll take 'em anywhere they want to go. Wrap 'em up neat in over three thousand pounds of Detroit steel and, baby, I carry 'em safe as houses.
Much as I can, anyhow. Sometimes, though, they step out where I can't reach and it ain't always pretty. I've soaked up their sweat, their blood and their tears, even if it ain't often the kind of tears a body can see. But I'll take it; I'll hold 'em steady and roll along smooth until things all come 'round right.
They're my boys, see, since they were this big and their daddy held the wheel, that John who knew how to treat a woman right. Strong hands, he had, sure and quick and felt everything I needed like a man holds a violin, that fine sense playin' through his fingers. He gave his boy to me, though, that Dean with his collar turned up like he's some kind of bad. Gave him to me to carry. Dean's got the touch too, got that sweetness in him that he keeps tryin' to hide behind a steel grin and a mouth full of twaddle. Yeah, but I know him. Just like our Sam, him what I've been carryin' since it wasn't his sweat stainin' my upholstery, bless his little fool heart. Now Sammy's gotta fold himself up like a lawn chair to get in the door, but I'll hold him easy when I feel the shadows crowdin' too close. Sam don't know me like Dean does, but that's all right, that's just all right, because I know him enough for both of us.
It's the hunt, you see, the job we gotta do. No end to it, like there's no end to the highways stretchin' red and blue lines across the map. You don't stop when you reach the ocean, you just turn off north or south, you pick your road and take it where it leads and follow until it's all through. I do what I can for 'em, lend what I've got, 'cause it's my fight, too. Always has been and never mind if anybody asked me, it's just the way things are.
Oh, I got the scars to show, that I surely do, and some stains and dents don't fix. But it don't bother me none, don't bother at all, and I've got three-hundred-and-ninety-six badass horses just waitin' to smoke 'em down. Mm-mm, that's right, and when I'm the weapon you best stand back, baby, 'cause ain't nothin' gonna stop me. Don't mess with my boys, see, don't you be tryin' that, because then you gotta take us all out.
Gotta take us all, and that's been tried but we don't go down easy. No sir, ain't nothin' easy about us. Nothin' easy but the groove we got goin' and oh, ain't that just fine.
Now look at that there, a big red sun a-sinkin' down, the sky on fire and the road a copper belt that wraps the whole world 'round. Holdin' us all together, burnin' the sky pure before the night can crawl on in. Burnin' it pure because the night, it never stays, and my boys and me know how to outlast the dark.
All right, baby, let's get it on - I'm feelin' good and we got miles to go.
.
I was born in a crossfire hurricane
And I howled at my ma in the driving rain.
But it's all right now -
- In fact, it's a gas!
But it's all right - I'm Jumpin' Jack Flash,
It's a gas! gas! gas!
.
~ Rollin' Stones
.
~ * ~
.
(Originally posted to spn_gen)