Crossover Fic: Not Her Type
Title: Not Her Type
Rating: Teen - language and sexual innuendo
Category: NCIS/Supernatural crossover
Summary: It’s Dean and Abby, they scoff at plot. It’s also non-explicit. Okay, Dean and Abby meet in a bar. No, it’s not a joke.
Characters: Dean/Abby
Spoilers: nope
Series: This is a one night stand.
Length: 440 words
Note: This is a (hopefully) improved version of the story I wrote for the ncis_flashfic challenge “Crossovers.” That version was written in under half an hour, just before the deadline.
For those that don’t know, Abby is a Goth forensic expert, with an erratic relationship with Agent McGee. Dean is a skirt chasing demon-hunter who works with his emo brother Sam.
The Supernatural muse has me stashed in the back of the Impala because I emphatically told her that, no, I would not write Supernatural until I got some NCIS stories out. The NCIS muse seems to have forgotten her heroic tendencies, so I had to negotiate. So, naturally, early this morning, inspiration hits me with a two by four when I realize that Dean and Abby would totally hit it off - in a one night stand sort of way. Actually, she hit it off with Sam too, but made it clear to me that there was no way she was going to star in a story with two gorgeous guys without having sex with at least one of them, and, since I’m a Dean girl . . . Well, that, and Sam made it clear that he did not sleep with people without an extensive plot and a minimum of 5,000 words leading up to it. Both Abby and I agreed that was way too involved for her at this point in my writing.
All mythological information is no longer complete nonsense, but constructed with a combination of memory from amateur mythological studies, the Encyclopedia Mythica, and a large dose of imagination. I suspect the Encyclopedia is about as good a resource as Wikipedia. I could no longer find the webpage on Dean’s amulet that contained my pet theory, however, I believe that I correctly remembered enough information to direct me to the relevant Wikipedia and Encyclopedia Mythica sources. So, while I take no credit for the theory, I expect accolades for my effort *g*. (I know, all that for a 400 word story; I am such a geek.)
Warnings: Not betaed. Yeah, I put Dean and Abby together and that’s as nasty as it got. I’m pathetic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anyone you see here. I mean no harm and make no money from this.
______________
Abby glowered at the bar-top. Trust McGee to ruin what could have been a great evening.
“Buy you a drink?” Abby glanced to her left to see a wrist encased in a broad, black leather band. That looked promising, but the rest of him, not so much. Steel-toed boots and a James Dean leather jacket. Wannabe macho guy, totally not her type. But free drinks were always good.
“It’s your money.”
“Boyfriend ruin your night?” he asked, as he signaled the bartender.
“No,” she snaps. “I’m here for the ghost.”
“I figured. Didn’t look like your kind of place.”
Abby gave him an incredulous stare. This was how he picked up girls, by insulting their taste in bars? “What would you know about it?”
“No Goths here before rumors that the place was haunted started.”
“Sorry. Did the ghosts run off your usual bimbo type?”
He laughs, and damn he looks good enough to jump right there. Too bad he’s an asshole. “Now you sound like my brother.”
“Sure you wouldn’t rather chat him up? He might actually go home with you.”
“Naw. Can’t tear Sammy away from his one true love.” He jerks his head over at a shaggy-haired guy frowning at his laptop.
“So, he abandoned you to the ghost lovers, did he? That’s horrible.”
“You think I can’t get along with ’em?”
Abby raises an eyebrow incredulously in his direction. “I bet you don’t think it’s a ghost.”
“Actually, I suspect they’re pissed off brownies.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Missing things, stuff moving around, mechanical problems, all of it happens just before dawn. That’s brownies, not ghosts. They’re usually helpful little spirits, but the bar owner hasn’t been properly thankful - they like warm milk and shiny stuff, by the way - so now they’re making a nuisance of themselves.”
Abby stares for a minute. She may have to reevaluate her opinion. This guy may totally be her type. He turns fully towards her. “Neat amulet.” What’ll he do with that?
Another of those great smiles. “Kusarikku. Mesopotamian bull-man. It’s a symbol of protection; he helps people in the fight against the forces of evil and chaos.”
“I thought for sure you were going to say it was for virility,” Abby says, moving into his space.
“Think I need help there?” he asks, resting his hands, warm and heavy, on her hips.
“One way to find out.” Abby tilts her face up towards his.
* * *
“Look, Abby, I’m sorry I didn’t show, but could you give me the lab results before Gibbs kills me.”
“Just take note McGee: Latin is my new kink.”
fini
Rating: Teen - language and sexual innuendo
Category: NCIS/Supernatural crossover
Summary: It’s Dean and Abby, they scoff at plot. It’s also non-explicit. Okay, Dean and Abby meet in a bar. No, it’s not a joke.
Characters: Dean/Abby
Spoilers: nope
Series: This is a one night stand.
Length: 440 words
Note: This is a (hopefully) improved version of the story I wrote for the ncis_flashfic challenge “Crossovers.” That version was written in under half an hour, just before the deadline.
For those that don’t know, Abby is a Goth forensic expert, with an erratic relationship with Agent McGee. Dean is a skirt chasing demon-hunter who works with his emo brother Sam.
The Supernatural muse has me stashed in the back of the Impala because I emphatically told her that, no, I would not write Supernatural until I got some NCIS stories out. The NCIS muse seems to have forgotten her heroic tendencies, so I had to negotiate. So, naturally, early this morning, inspiration hits me with a two by four when I realize that Dean and Abby would totally hit it off - in a one night stand sort of way. Actually, she hit it off with Sam too, but made it clear to me that there was no way she was going to star in a story with two gorgeous guys without having sex with at least one of them, and, since I’m a Dean girl . . . Well, that, and Sam made it clear that he did not sleep with people without an extensive plot and a minimum of 5,000 words leading up to it. Both Abby and I agreed that was way too involved for her at this point in my writing.
All mythological information is no longer complete nonsense, but constructed with a combination of memory from amateur mythological studies, the Encyclopedia Mythica, and a large dose of imagination. I suspect the Encyclopedia is about as good a resource as Wikipedia. I could no longer find the webpage on Dean’s amulet that contained my pet theory, however, I believe that I correctly remembered enough information to direct me to the relevant Wikipedia and Encyclopedia Mythica sources. So, while I take no credit for the theory, I expect accolades for my effort *g*. (I know, all that for a 400 word story; I am such a geek.)
Warnings: Not betaed. Yeah, I put Dean and Abby together and that’s as nasty as it got. I’m pathetic.
Disclaimer: I don’t own anyone you see here. I mean no harm and make no money from this.
______________
Abby glowered at the bar-top. Trust McGee to ruin what could have been a great evening.
“Buy you a drink?” Abby glanced to her left to see a wrist encased in a broad, black leather band. That looked promising, but the rest of him, not so much. Steel-toed boots and a James Dean leather jacket. Wannabe macho guy, totally not her type. But free drinks were always good.
“It’s your money.”
“Boyfriend ruin your night?” he asked, as he signaled the bartender.
“No,” she snaps. “I’m here for the ghost.”
“I figured. Didn’t look like your kind of place.”
Abby gave him an incredulous stare. This was how he picked up girls, by insulting their taste in bars? “What would you know about it?”
“No Goths here before rumors that the place was haunted started.”
“Sorry. Did the ghosts run off your usual bimbo type?”
He laughs, and damn he looks good enough to jump right there. Too bad he’s an asshole. “Now you sound like my brother.”
“Sure you wouldn’t rather chat him up? He might actually go home with you.”
“Naw. Can’t tear Sammy away from his one true love.” He jerks his head over at a shaggy-haired guy frowning at his laptop.
“So, he abandoned you to the ghost lovers, did he? That’s horrible.”
“You think I can’t get along with ’em?”
Abby raises an eyebrow incredulously in his direction. “I bet you don’t think it’s a ghost.”
“Actually, I suspect they’re pissed off brownies.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Missing things, stuff moving around, mechanical problems, all of it happens just before dawn. That’s brownies, not ghosts. They’re usually helpful little spirits, but the bar owner hasn’t been properly thankful - they like warm milk and shiny stuff, by the way - so now they’re making a nuisance of themselves.”
Abby stares for a minute. She may have to reevaluate her opinion. This guy may totally be her type. He turns fully towards her. “Neat amulet.” What’ll he do with that?
Another of those great smiles. “Kusarikku. Mesopotamian bull-man. It’s a symbol of protection; he helps people in the fight against the forces of evil and chaos.”
“I thought for sure you were going to say it was for virility,” Abby says, moving into his space.
“Think I need help there?” he asks, resting his hands, warm and heavy, on her hips.
“One way to find out.” Abby tilts her face up towards his.
* * *
“Look, Abby, I’m sorry I didn’t show, but could you give me the lab results before Gibbs kills me.”
“Just take note McGee: Latin is my new kink.”
fini