wtf have i done now
I just couldn't get rid of the mental image of Dean watching his Grey's Anatomy analogue... And then I remembered another show with a bit of meta about the characters.
So here ya go:
Title: Mystery Supernatural Theater 3000
Author: fullofowls
Fandoms: Supernatural, NCIS, and a tiny little surprise at the end
Genre: crossover, humor
Word count: 630
Warning: Dean curses, that's just how he is.
The boys belong, of course, to Kripke & Co. Dean's opinions are exaggerated versions of mine. And comments are appreciated, as always.
In yet another dreary motel room, blue and green and silver this time (a nice change from all the orange), on another dreary highway in some drearier-than-usual corner of a state with draconian (and dreary) liquor laws, Sam Winchester realized that he needed to find a new synonym for ‘dreary’.
Well.
That wasn’t actually the thing he’d realized. He’d known it for quite some time now, and the thought was tacked on to what he had realized, like a dreary little ordinary tail on a really weird fluffy fanged new animal.
Yeah… that metaphor could use a little work too, he decided, but if any realization could be compared to such a creature, Sam was pretty sure that this one was it.
He glanced over at the other bed, where his brother Dean and his… whatever-the-hell-he-was Cas were sitting watching television on Sam’s laptop, with a socially acceptable amount of space between them (for as much as two guys sitting on a bed together was socially acceptable).
Pull your heads out of your asses and stick something else up there instead, he thought in their direction, and then winced at the unfortunate imagery. In an effort to clear that out of his head, he went back to his previous train of thought: the really weird, fluffy, fanged realization.
In another life, with a lot more spare time and a lot less to worry about, Dean would have been just as bad as Becky.
His behavior at the moment was not, in Sam’s opinion, helping his case at all.
“No, no, no!” he was yelling at the laptop screen. “You fuckers!” (By which, Sam knew by now, he meant the show’s writers.)
Cas did that frowny-face thing that even Sam grudgingly had to admit was really cute. “We are only ten minutes into the episode. I do not see what is wrong.”
“It’s another one with Rhiannon and Kaylee. They’ve been dead for years already, stop tormenting him, you bastards!”
“Your mother has been dead many years, but you have not forgotten her, have you?” Cas pointed out. “Besides, I am interested to learn more about them.”
“Um, guys?” Sam raised his eyebrows. “You do know LJ Tibbs is a fictional character, right?”
Dean glared. “Yeah, that’s what Chuck thought too,” he said.
Sam ran his hand through his hair. Yep. Definitely Becky.
“So what should have been done instead?” asked Cas. Sam was beginning to suspect that he liked Dean’s revisions more than the actual shows themselves.
“Well, for starters, they should never have killed off Kim, but they only did that because the actress didn’t want to be on Deep Six anymore, so there’s nothing we can really do about that.” Dean started ticking off on his fingers, a sure sign that he was about to launch into a monologue.
Sam sighed and adjusted his pillow, settling in for the long haul. On the laptop screen, Agent MacGregor found out the hard way that Agent Tommy had put superglue on his keyboard, but Cas’s attention (as always) was fixed entirely on Dean.
“Then they killed off Madame Director- I mean, what the hell was that? Tommy’s been blown up twice, and Tibbs, and they’re still here, so why the fuck should assassins stop her? Maybe Frank Michaels left the diner too early, huh? They can still bring her back!”
“It is said that on television, no death is final unless there is a body,” said Cas.
“Exactly!” fumed Dean. “And what is all this Tommy/Lisa bullshit? What, did she just forget about Lieutenant Orange-Hat? Tibbs and Janie was one thing, but-”
Sam slid down the headboard. It was going to be a long night. He never thought he’d say it, but this was enough to make him miss last week’s binge of Wormhole X-treme.
So here ya go:
Title: Mystery Supernatural Theater 3000
Author: fullofowls
Fandoms: Supernatural, NCIS, and a tiny little surprise at the end
Genre: crossover, humor
Word count: 630
Warning: Dean curses, that's just how he is.
The boys belong, of course, to Kripke & Co. Dean's opinions are exaggerated versions of mine. And comments are appreciated, as always.
In yet another dreary motel room, blue and green and silver this time (a nice change from all the orange), on another dreary highway in some drearier-than-usual corner of a state with draconian (and dreary) liquor laws, Sam Winchester realized that he needed to find a new synonym for ‘dreary’.
Well.
That wasn’t actually the thing he’d realized. He’d known it for quite some time now, and the thought was tacked on to what he had realized, like a dreary little ordinary tail on a really weird fluffy fanged new animal.
Yeah… that metaphor could use a little work too, he decided, but if any realization could be compared to such a creature, Sam was pretty sure that this one was it.
He glanced over at the other bed, where his brother Dean and his… whatever-the-hell-he-was Cas were sitting watching television on Sam’s laptop, with a socially acceptable amount of space between them (for as much as two guys sitting on a bed together was socially acceptable).
Pull your heads out of your asses and stick something else up there instead, he thought in their direction, and then winced at the unfortunate imagery. In an effort to clear that out of his head, he went back to his previous train of thought: the really weird, fluffy, fanged realization.
In another life, with a lot more spare time and a lot less to worry about, Dean would have been just as bad as Becky.
His behavior at the moment was not, in Sam’s opinion, helping his case at all.
“No, no, no!” he was yelling at the laptop screen. “You fuckers!” (By which, Sam knew by now, he meant the show’s writers.)
Cas did that frowny-face thing that even Sam grudgingly had to admit was really cute. “We are only ten minutes into the episode. I do not see what is wrong.”
“It’s another one with Rhiannon and Kaylee. They’ve been dead for years already, stop tormenting him, you bastards!”
“Your mother has been dead many years, but you have not forgotten her, have you?” Cas pointed out. “Besides, I am interested to learn more about them.”
“Um, guys?” Sam raised his eyebrows. “You do know LJ Tibbs is a fictional character, right?”
Dean glared. “Yeah, that’s what Chuck thought too,” he said.
Sam ran his hand through his hair. Yep. Definitely Becky.
“So what should have been done instead?” asked Cas. Sam was beginning to suspect that he liked Dean’s revisions more than the actual shows themselves.
“Well, for starters, they should never have killed off Kim, but they only did that because the actress didn’t want to be on Deep Six anymore, so there’s nothing we can really do about that.” Dean started ticking off on his fingers, a sure sign that he was about to launch into a monologue.
Sam sighed and adjusted his pillow, settling in for the long haul. On the laptop screen, Agent MacGregor found out the hard way that Agent Tommy had put superglue on his keyboard, but Cas’s attention (as always) was fixed entirely on Dean.
“Then they killed off Madame Director- I mean, what the hell was that? Tommy’s been blown up twice, and Tibbs, and they’re still here, so why the fuck should assassins stop her? Maybe Frank Michaels left the diner too early, huh? They can still bring her back!”
“It is said that on television, no death is final unless there is a body,” said Cas.
“Exactly!” fumed Dean. “And what is all this Tommy/Lisa bullshit? What, did she just forget about Lieutenant Orange-Hat? Tibbs and Janie was one thing, but-”
Sam slid down the headboard. It was going to be a long night. He never thought he’d say it, but this was enough to make him miss last week’s binge of Wormhole X-treme.