Putting the slash fiction back in Slash Fiction
So! lazy_daze said she wished it could be hiatus, so we could all write lots of schmoopy making up fic, and I of course wish that too.
Sadly, the universe is still strangely resistant to bending to my will, but here is the next best thing. The 706 Reunionating Comment-Fic Meme!
A place full of post-706 reunionation and schmoop (gen or wincest, as you ( Read more... )
Sadly, the universe is still strangely resistant to bending to my will, but here is the next best thing. The 706 Reunionating Comment-Fic Meme!
A place full of post-706 reunionation and schmoop (gen or wincest, as you ( Read more... )
"What? Bobby -" Dean gets to his feet, the damned TV finally forgotten. Patting his pockets frantically, Dean extracts the keys to the old junker he's been driving since he'd hidden the Impala safely away from the law. "I need to go get him."
"He didn't exactly tell me where he was," Bobby sighs. This would all be a hell of a lot easier if Sam had been a little more forthcoming with his whereabouts. "But I got a feeling he'll he heading back this direction soon enough."
"Like Sam's gonna let a little thing like a broken arm or busted collarbone keep him from doing something stupid," Dean says, fuming. He's got his keys in his hand, standing indecisively in the middle of the cabin. "Goddammit, Sam," he finally sighs.
Bobby hides his smile as he turns toward the kitchen. "I'll rustle us up some grub," he says.
Dean doesn't answer him, being too distracted with worrying about his damn fool brother. Well, if Bobby knows his Winchesters, Sam oughta be showing up sometime tomorrow.
It's a long night, with Dean finally falling into a restless sleep after polishing off half a bottle of Jack.
Bobby hopes Sam hurries up. He can practically feel whatever evil forces left in the universe that are still powerful enough to end the world gathering around him, not to mention a worried Dean is pretty damned annoying to spend a lot time with.
Not that Bobby's had a lot of experience with that, or anything.
Sure enough, Sam shows up around noon on the following day. Tires skid on the gravel in front of Rufus's cabin, and Bobby hears a car door slam.
He knows it's time for a strategic retreat, so he edges toward the back bedroom. Dean obviously heard the car pull in, too, and is up and moving toward the door.
He pulls it open at the same time Sam bursts through it, and for a minute Bobby thinks they're going to end up with broken bones after all.
Dean stares at Sam's obviously unbroken arms and Sam stares at Dean's obviously cast-free leg.
"Sammy? Are you okay? I thought -" Dean turns to look at Bobby, who's standing in the bedroom doorway, smirking at them.
"Dean? Bobby said you -" And Sam turns to look at him, too.
Bobby shrugs. "Hey, if you two morons wanna risk bringing on the end of the world by fighting like a couple of little kids, don't expect me to stand around and watch it happen."
"You lied to us? You made it all up?" Dean turns to Sam and places his hand on his chest, fingertips probing gently. "I take it your collarbone isn't broken, either?"
"Uh, no," Sam says. "Not hardly. Your leg's not broken?"
"Nope," Dean answers grimly.
Bobby decides it's time to give them a little privacy so they can iron out whatever drama that's got their panties all in a twist this time.
Also, he has no desire to hear any talk of girlfriends.
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Thank you!
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