Fic: The Hazards of Frisbees - SPN
Title: The Hazards of Frisbees
Rating: PG
Pairing: light Sam/Jess
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: The last time I checked, my name wasn't Kripke. Therefore, I own none of this, more's the pity.
Warnings: none
Summary: Dean finds something unexpected when he goes to get Sam from Stanford.
Author's Note: The idea for this ficlet originally came after I ran into a tree face first while mowing the yard. No, really. *g*
Dean grinned as the door to Sam's apartment swung silently open and tucked his lock picks back in his pocket as he pushed to his feet. He stepped over the threshold and the grin turned approving as he noticed both the thin line of salt at the door and the protective runes lightly carved into the door frame.
"That's my boy, Sammy. Good to see you haven't forgotten everything."
Dean made his way quietly into the living room, pausing for a moment as he tried to decide if he should make a quick detour into the kitchen for a beer. Then his grin widened as he heard familiar footsteps coming slowly down the hallway towards him. He ducked around to the side of the doorway, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet as he waited for Sam to appear.
The moment Sam was through the doorway Dean pounced, wrapping one arm around Sam's chest and trying to pull him backwards. Sam fought back fiercely, but there was something just slightly off about his movements. Something that had Dean's grin morphing into a concerned frown even as he managed to flip Sam onto the floor on his back.
Then, when Dean shifted to sit on Sam's stomach, he realized just what was causing Sam's difficulties. There was a patch completely covering Sam's left eye.
Dean froze, hands still braced on Sam's shoulders. The he was frantically pushing himself to his feet and pulling Sam up with him, hands ghosting over Sam's body in an attempt to locate any other injuries.
"Dean? What the hell are you doing here?"
Dean ignored Sam's questions, all of his attention focused on checking Sam over. When he couldn't find anything he grabbed Sam's shoulders and pulled him down until they were nearly nose to nose. "What the fuck happened? You said hunting was too dangerous, that you wanted a normal life." He gestured towards the eye patch. "That doesn't look safe and normal to me, Sammy."
"Dean!" Sam shook his head when Dean finally fell silent. "Dean, I have a scratched cornea. I was playing Frisbee on the quad. I wasn't watching where I was going and ran into a tree branch. The doctor only wanted me in a patch to keep me from doing anything else to my eye while it heals. The patch will be coming off in a couple of days. Calm down. I'll be fine."
For a moment all Dean could do was blink. "You ran into a tree with your face? I'm all worried about you having lost an eye, but everything's all right even though you weren't watching where you were going and ran into a tree? Is that what you're telling me, Sam?"
Sam ran a hand through his hair and seemed to be looking anywhere but at Dean. "Yeah, pretty much. Though it sounds worse than it really is when you put it that way."
"Sammy, I hate to break it to you, but it sounds pathetic because it is. Winchesters do not run into trees."
Sam cocked an eyebrow. "So the time in South Carolina when we were hunting that clan of gremlins it was some other Dean who took a flying leap right into a tree trunk?"
Dean grimaced. "I was running for my life, Sam. Plus, that tree jumped out of nowhere and attacked me."
"You still ran into a tree, Dean. And in a life-threatening situation, too. At least I knew that the Frisbee wasn't going to attack me and bite my face off."
Dean's grimace morphed into something that he refused to admit was a pout. "You never know. Could have been a demonic Frisbee, and then where would you have been? On your back on the ground with a Frisbee eating your face off."
Before Sam had a chance to come up with a witty comeback the lights suddenly flicked on. And when Dean turned to look, he couldn't help but let out a quiet whistle of appreciation.
A beautiful blonde was leaning against the door frame, a baseball bat over one shoulder and dressed in a small pair of shorts and a cute little cutoff Smurf shirt. One bare foot was tapping impatiently on the floor and a single perfect eyebrow was arched as she glared at Sam.
"Sam, sweetheart, I think you have some explaining to do."
Rating: PG
Pairing: light Sam/Jess
Spoilers: none
Disclaimer: The last time I checked, my name wasn't Kripke. Therefore, I own none of this, more's the pity.
Warnings: none
Summary: Dean finds something unexpected when he goes to get Sam from Stanford.
Author's Note: The idea for this ficlet originally came after I ran into a tree face first while mowing the yard. No, really. *g*
Dean grinned as the door to Sam's apartment swung silently open and tucked his lock picks back in his pocket as he pushed to his feet. He stepped over the threshold and the grin turned approving as he noticed both the thin line of salt at the door and the protective runes lightly carved into the door frame.
"That's my boy, Sammy. Good to see you haven't forgotten everything."
Dean made his way quietly into the living room, pausing for a moment as he tried to decide if he should make a quick detour into the kitchen for a beer. Then his grin widened as he heard familiar footsteps coming slowly down the hallway towards him. He ducked around to the side of the doorway, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet as he waited for Sam to appear.
The moment Sam was through the doorway Dean pounced, wrapping one arm around Sam's chest and trying to pull him backwards. Sam fought back fiercely, but there was something just slightly off about his movements. Something that had Dean's grin morphing into a concerned frown even as he managed to flip Sam onto the floor on his back.
Then, when Dean shifted to sit on Sam's stomach, he realized just what was causing Sam's difficulties. There was a patch completely covering Sam's left eye.
Dean froze, hands still braced on Sam's shoulders. The he was frantically pushing himself to his feet and pulling Sam up with him, hands ghosting over Sam's body in an attempt to locate any other injuries.
"Dean? What the hell are you doing here?"
Dean ignored Sam's questions, all of his attention focused on checking Sam over. When he couldn't find anything he grabbed Sam's shoulders and pulled him down until they were nearly nose to nose. "What the fuck happened? You said hunting was too dangerous, that you wanted a normal life." He gestured towards the eye patch. "That doesn't look safe and normal to me, Sammy."
"Dean!" Sam shook his head when Dean finally fell silent. "Dean, I have a scratched cornea. I was playing Frisbee on the quad. I wasn't watching where I was going and ran into a tree branch. The doctor only wanted me in a patch to keep me from doing anything else to my eye while it heals. The patch will be coming off in a couple of days. Calm down. I'll be fine."
For a moment all Dean could do was blink. "You ran into a tree with your face? I'm all worried about you having lost an eye, but everything's all right even though you weren't watching where you were going and ran into a tree? Is that what you're telling me, Sam?"
Sam ran a hand through his hair and seemed to be looking anywhere but at Dean. "Yeah, pretty much. Though it sounds worse than it really is when you put it that way."
"Sammy, I hate to break it to you, but it sounds pathetic because it is. Winchesters do not run into trees."
Sam cocked an eyebrow. "So the time in South Carolina when we were hunting that clan of gremlins it was some other Dean who took a flying leap right into a tree trunk?"
Dean grimaced. "I was running for my life, Sam. Plus, that tree jumped out of nowhere and attacked me."
"You still ran into a tree, Dean. And in a life-threatening situation, too. At least I knew that the Frisbee wasn't going to attack me and bite my face off."
Dean's grimace morphed into something that he refused to admit was a pout. "You never know. Could have been a demonic Frisbee, and then where would you have been? On your back on the ground with a Frisbee eating your face off."
Before Sam had a chance to come up with a witty comeback the lights suddenly flicked on. And when Dean turned to look, he couldn't help but let out a quiet whistle of appreciation.
A beautiful blonde was leaning against the door frame, a baseball bat over one shoulder and dressed in a small pair of shorts and a cute little cutoff Smurf shirt. One bare foot was tapping impatiently on the floor and a single perfect eyebrow was arched as she glared at Sam.
"Sam, sweetheart, I think you have some explaining to do."