New SPN fic - baaaaaaaaaabyfic - futurefic
I should just take all my goddamned outlines of things and toss them out the window.
Erm - anyway! Babyfic! Except she's not a baby! And again, totally NOT the section that was going to come next, but, whatever! Clearly my brain just does what it wants these days!
This is for mona1347 who wanted this for her birthday which was in, uhm, January (shh!) and a bunch of other people who've asked for this (or something close to this at least) for a while now. Totally out of order from the babyverse. You need to skip ahead like, fifteen years for this one *g*
Thanks to my allieface for the beta!
The rest of the babyfic universe can be found under the babyfic tag!
Title - the one where she goes on a date
Pairing - Sam/Dean (implied, not graphic)
Rating - adult
Word Count - 1480
the one where she goes on a date
Dean's at the kitchen table scribbling coordinates in his journal when he hears the front door bang open, and then the angry click of heels on the living room floor.
"Daddy!" Melissa yells, and Dean winces. Shit.
"In here." He flips the book closed and leans back, balancing on the rear legs of the kitchen chair. When Melissa crashes through the doorway with her hands on her hips and her blonde hair flying, Dean tilts his head and tries to smile. This isn't going to be good.
"Hey, blondie. What's-"
"Do you know what he did, Daddy? Do you?"
Dean's stomach knots up, and he pushes back from the table, with damp, shaky hands. He'll kill him. He'll go out and find that pimply-faced geek and beat his fucking brains in. He'll-
Melissa rolls her eyes. "Not Tom, Daddy."
Dean stops. Looks at his daughter. "Oh."
He waits for something else. For Melissa to tell him what's gotten her so pissed off that her cheeks are all red, her eyes narrowed and flashing. But when she just stands there, tapping her foot and huffing in the best Sam impersonation he's seen in a damn long time, he holds his hands up and shrugs.
"I'm sorry, pumpkin, but as much as I'd like to, I can't read your mind. Who are you so-"
"Dad," she snaps, and when Dean realizes she's not talking to him when she says Dad, but rather, about her other dad, things start to fall into place.
"Okay." Dean steps around the table slowly. He never was much good at dealing with pissed off women, and his daughter is nearly as tall as he is and has been trained by him and Sam for all of her sixteen years of life. Dean's not entirely sure she couldn't kick his ass if she tried; not that he'd admit that to anybody. "Why don't you tell me what Dad did?"
Melissa huffs again, but she's relaxing and looks a little less likely to rip Dean's face off. Which is good. Progress, at least.
"He followed me." She tucks a curl of hair behind her ear and squints at Dean. "You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"
"Me? No way."
Melissa stares him down and Dean almost starts to sweat. Shit, she's good. "Fine," she finally says. "Anyway, I just - it was just a date, Daddy. My first date and Tom has to come in here and deal with you and Dad staring at him for twenty minutes, giving him the damn evil eye, and don't even try to tell me that there wasn't holy water in that soda Dad brought him because you're a terrible liar and I'll never believe you anyway, and then-"
"All right, okay, Lissy, listen to me-"
"And don't call me that. I'm not a kid anymore, Daddy."
Melissa's arms are folded tight over her chest, and it almost hurts Dean to look at her. She's tall and blonde and gorgeous but not just that, she's smart and funny, strong and tough. She's the most perfect thing Dean's ever seen, and sometimes he can't believe when he looks at her that he did this. Him and Sam. They raised this amazing, perfect, brilliant girl together and now she's old enough to date. To go out without them and do all sorts of things and god, Dean can't think about it too long or his head hurts and he feels like he might throw up.
"I know," he finally manages to say. "Sorry."
"I'm smart, Daddy." Dean looks up as she walks over to him, her hand warm on his arm. "And you and Dad taught me so much. I can totally take care of myself but you guys have to let me. He has to let me." She blinks at him and Dean breathes out. Nods.
"I'll talk to him," he tells her, and Melissa smiles, the bright, wide one that's had Dean giving her almost anything she's asked for since the day they found her. "Tom didn't see your dad, did he?"
She wrinkles her nose. "Nah. Dad's good. Just - you know - I'm better." Her eyes flash in a grin, and then she's kissing Dean's cheek, her lips slick with hot pink gloss. "Tell Dad the next time I catch him following me I'll have Tom circle around until we corner him and then I'll challenge him in hand-to-hand to see who wins, loser goes home. Deal?"
"Yeah. Deal. " Dean ruffles her hair and pokes her nose. Melissa rolls her eyes, but she's at least smiling a little when she turns and walks away.
Dean waits until her footsteps fade up the stairs and her bedroom door closes behind her to breathe again. He rubs a hand over his face, against the back of his neck. When the door to his and Sam's bedroom creaks open, Dean sighs.
"It's safe, you pussy," he calls out, and a second later Sam's shuffling out the door and down the short hall to the kitchen.
Dean looks up. Sam's hair is falling across his forehead; the brown streaked with grey at the temples and he smiles softly, two pink spots coloring his cheeks. There are a few more lines around Sam's eyes now, another few around the edges of his mouth, but other than that he looks the same. Same body, same smile, same everything.
Sam ducks his head and boxes Dean in against the counter and Dean is instantly, blindingly hard. Jesus. He leans back, curls his hands around Sam's hips, and tugs him closer.
"When did you sneak back in?"
Sam's lips touch his neck and Dean shivers. He can feel Sam smile against his skin. "Somewhere around when she was reminding you to use her full name because she's not a kid anymore."
"Yeah. How many times in my life do I have to hear something like that, huh?"
Sam rolls his eyes. "Dude, do I have to remind you that this whole following her thing was all your idea?"
Goddamn Sam, always being so rational.
"It was a good idea," Dean argues, because it was. It's not his fault Sam's a lousy tail who ruined Melissa's date. And anyway, so what? Since when does his daughter date, anyway? "Maybe if you didn't suck so much at following people-"
Sam lurches back and stares at him with his mouth hanging open. "I do not!"
"Clearly you do, Sam, or else I wouldn't have just had this whole argument with our daughter in the middle of the goddamned kitchen at midnight." Dean shakes his head. "She knows about the holy water too so next time we should just plant the EMF meter someplace where she won't see it. That'll work just as good."
Sam stares him down and shakes his head slowly. "Whatever, Dean. God, you're worse than I am."
"So what." Because Dean doesn't care. Not even a little bit. And if Melissa doesn't like it she can just find herself two other demon-hunting fathers to torture. Because these two are going to check out whoever these goddamn dates she has are with, and no amount of arguing she does can stop them. Tough freaking nuts.
"Yeah, well, next time you can follow her," Sam says. He's stepping closer as he says it, though, and running his teeth and tongue over Dean's throat so maybe Dean doesn't want to argue with him all that much anyway. Sometimes Dean can't believe that Sam's still here after all this time. That he still makes Dean think things, feel things that he'd never thought were possible until Sam insisted on making Dean believe it. "Since you're the one going crazy over the idea of Melissa dating," he adds, and Dean smacks the side of his head.
"Dude, shut up! She might be able to hear you, you dumbass."
"I don't care. I'm tired of always being bad cop to your good cop, Dean. She's going to start to hate me."
Which Dean doesn't want. At all. And anyway, if he follows her next time she'll never know because no matter what Sam says, he's a horrible tail. Dean's seen him do it enough to know.
"Okay, Sam, fine. Next time I'll do it."
Sam lifts his head to look Dean in the eyes, even as his hand is sliding down Dean's hip, his palm pressing against Dean's dick through his jeans and oh, shit, yeah. "Good," Sam says. "Can we go fuck now?"
"If we do, can we stop talking about our daughter dating?"
Sam shudders. "I can't think of anything I want to talk about less."
"All right, then." Dean curls his fingers under the elastic of Sam's sweatpants and tugs him out of the kitchen and down the hall. "We can finish arguing tomorrow."
-end-
Erm - anyway! Babyfic! Except she's not a baby! And again, totally NOT the section that was going to come next, but, whatever! Clearly my brain just does what it wants these days!
This is for mona1347 who wanted this for her birthday which was in, uhm, January (shh!) and a bunch of other people who've asked for this (or something close to this at least) for a while now. Totally out of order from the babyverse. You need to skip ahead like, fifteen years for this one *g*
Thanks to my allieface for the beta!
The rest of the babyfic universe can be found under the babyfic tag!
Title - the one where she goes on a date
Pairing - Sam/Dean (implied, not graphic)
Rating - adult
Word Count - 1480
the one where she goes on a date
Dean's at the kitchen table scribbling coordinates in his journal when he hears the front door bang open, and then the angry click of heels on the living room floor.
"Daddy!" Melissa yells, and Dean winces. Shit.
"In here." He flips the book closed and leans back, balancing on the rear legs of the kitchen chair. When Melissa crashes through the doorway with her hands on her hips and her blonde hair flying, Dean tilts his head and tries to smile. This isn't going to be good.
"Hey, blondie. What's-"
"Do you know what he did, Daddy? Do you?"
Dean's stomach knots up, and he pushes back from the table, with damp, shaky hands. He'll kill him. He'll go out and find that pimply-faced geek and beat his fucking brains in. He'll-
Melissa rolls her eyes. "Not Tom, Daddy."
Dean stops. Looks at his daughter. "Oh."
He waits for something else. For Melissa to tell him what's gotten her so pissed off that her cheeks are all red, her eyes narrowed and flashing. But when she just stands there, tapping her foot and huffing in the best Sam impersonation he's seen in a damn long time, he holds his hands up and shrugs.
"I'm sorry, pumpkin, but as much as I'd like to, I can't read your mind. Who are you so-"
"Dad," she snaps, and when Dean realizes she's not talking to him when she says Dad, but rather, about her other dad, things start to fall into place.
"Okay." Dean steps around the table slowly. He never was much good at dealing with pissed off women, and his daughter is nearly as tall as he is and has been trained by him and Sam for all of her sixteen years of life. Dean's not entirely sure she couldn't kick his ass if she tried; not that he'd admit that to anybody. "Why don't you tell me what Dad did?"
Melissa huffs again, but she's relaxing and looks a little less likely to rip Dean's face off. Which is good. Progress, at least.
"He followed me." She tucks a curl of hair behind her ear and squints at Dean. "You didn't have anything to do with that, did you?"
"Me? No way."
Melissa stares him down and Dean almost starts to sweat. Shit, she's good. "Fine," she finally says. "Anyway, I just - it was just a date, Daddy. My first date and Tom has to come in here and deal with you and Dad staring at him for twenty minutes, giving him the damn evil eye, and don't even try to tell me that there wasn't holy water in that soda Dad brought him because you're a terrible liar and I'll never believe you anyway, and then-"
"All right, okay, Lissy, listen to me-"
"And don't call me that. I'm not a kid anymore, Daddy."
Melissa's arms are folded tight over her chest, and it almost hurts Dean to look at her. She's tall and blonde and gorgeous but not just that, she's smart and funny, strong and tough. She's the most perfect thing Dean's ever seen, and sometimes he can't believe when he looks at her that he did this. Him and Sam. They raised this amazing, perfect, brilliant girl together and now she's old enough to date. To go out without them and do all sorts of things and god, Dean can't think about it too long or his head hurts and he feels like he might throw up.
"I know," he finally manages to say. "Sorry."
"I'm smart, Daddy." Dean looks up as she walks over to him, her hand warm on his arm. "And you and Dad taught me so much. I can totally take care of myself but you guys have to let me. He has to let me." She blinks at him and Dean breathes out. Nods.
"I'll talk to him," he tells her, and Melissa smiles, the bright, wide one that's had Dean giving her almost anything she's asked for since the day they found her. "Tom didn't see your dad, did he?"
She wrinkles her nose. "Nah. Dad's good. Just - you know - I'm better." Her eyes flash in a grin, and then she's kissing Dean's cheek, her lips slick with hot pink gloss. "Tell Dad the next time I catch him following me I'll have Tom circle around until we corner him and then I'll challenge him in hand-to-hand to see who wins, loser goes home. Deal?"
"Yeah. Deal. " Dean ruffles her hair and pokes her nose. Melissa rolls her eyes, but she's at least smiling a little when she turns and walks away.
Dean waits until her footsteps fade up the stairs and her bedroom door closes behind her to breathe again. He rubs a hand over his face, against the back of his neck. When the door to his and Sam's bedroom creaks open, Dean sighs.
"It's safe, you pussy," he calls out, and a second later Sam's shuffling out the door and down the short hall to the kitchen.
Dean looks up. Sam's hair is falling across his forehead; the brown streaked with grey at the temples and he smiles softly, two pink spots coloring his cheeks. There are a few more lines around Sam's eyes now, another few around the edges of his mouth, but other than that he looks the same. Same body, same smile, same everything.
Sam ducks his head and boxes Dean in against the counter and Dean is instantly, blindingly hard. Jesus. He leans back, curls his hands around Sam's hips, and tugs him closer.
"When did you sneak back in?"
Sam's lips touch his neck and Dean shivers. He can feel Sam smile against his skin. "Somewhere around when she was reminding you to use her full name because she's not a kid anymore."
"Yeah. How many times in my life do I have to hear something like that, huh?"
Sam rolls his eyes. "Dude, do I have to remind you that this whole following her thing was all your idea?"
Goddamn Sam, always being so rational.
"It was a good idea," Dean argues, because it was. It's not his fault Sam's a lousy tail who ruined Melissa's date. And anyway, so what? Since when does his daughter date, anyway? "Maybe if you didn't suck so much at following people-"
Sam lurches back and stares at him with his mouth hanging open. "I do not!"
"Clearly you do, Sam, or else I wouldn't have just had this whole argument with our daughter in the middle of the goddamned kitchen at midnight." Dean shakes his head. "She knows about the holy water too so next time we should just plant the EMF meter someplace where she won't see it. That'll work just as good."
Sam stares him down and shakes his head slowly. "Whatever, Dean. God, you're worse than I am."
"So what." Because Dean doesn't care. Not even a little bit. And if Melissa doesn't like it she can just find herself two other demon-hunting fathers to torture. Because these two are going to check out whoever these goddamn dates she has are with, and no amount of arguing she does can stop them. Tough freaking nuts.
"Yeah, well, next time you can follow her," Sam says. He's stepping closer as he says it, though, and running his teeth and tongue over Dean's throat so maybe Dean doesn't want to argue with him all that much anyway. Sometimes Dean can't believe that Sam's still here after all this time. That he still makes Dean think things, feel things that he'd never thought were possible until Sam insisted on making Dean believe it. "Since you're the one going crazy over the idea of Melissa dating," he adds, and Dean smacks the side of his head.
"Dude, shut up! She might be able to hear you, you dumbass."
"I don't care. I'm tired of always being bad cop to your good cop, Dean. She's going to start to hate me."
Which Dean doesn't want. At all. And anyway, if he follows her next time she'll never know because no matter what Sam says, he's a horrible tail. Dean's seen him do it enough to know.
"Okay, Sam, fine. Next time I'll do it."
Sam lifts his head to look Dean in the eyes, even as his hand is sliding down Dean's hip, his palm pressing against Dean's dick through his jeans and oh, shit, yeah. "Good," Sam says. "Can we go fuck now?"
"If we do, can we stop talking about our daughter dating?"
Sam shudders. "I can't think of anything I want to talk about less."
"All right, then." Dean curls his fingers under the elastic of Sam's sweatpants and tugs him out of the kitchen and down the hall. "We can finish arguing tomorrow."
-end-