Fic: Unlikely Roommates
Title: Unlikely Roommates
Summary: Sam arrives at 221B Baker Street, and finds that he actually likes it.
A/N: Part 2 of the Sassy!Sherlock fusion! Introducing Dean as Lestrade, and Bobby as Mrs. Hudson. Part 1 is here.
Sam limps over to Baker Street, hating the bus system with a passion. He’s grateful that Seattle has such an extensive bus system, since it was easy for him to make it from his apartment on Eastlake over to downtown, but living near the University of Washington means the bus is almost always packed with college kids, and it gets even worse during rush hour. A crowded bus doesn’t do his leg any favors.
It doesn’t take him long to make it from the bus tunnel to 221B. It looks like a nice place from the outside, and Sam’s not entirely sure he can even afford to pay half the rent; his veterans benefits can only stretch so far, and nobody wants to hire a surgeon with an intermittent tremor in their dominant hand.
Dean had been skeptical about Sam going off to meet with a guy he had just met to see about sharing an apartment, but their conversation had been cut short when Dean was called to a crime scene. Of course, Dean had been more than a little protective since Sam came back with a bullet hole in his shoulder and a limp nobody could figure out the reason for. Dean had offered the guest room of his house, but he had a wife and kid. Sam didn’t want to force Ben, Lisa, or Dean to deal with his nightmares and twitchiness, so he had found himself a cheap place by UW and hoped he’d find a job before he’d be unable to make rent.
Castiel is already waiting when Sam arrives at the door, wearing the same outfit he was the day before; trench coat, suit jacket, dress shirt, blue tie. Sam hopes it’s a different set of shirt and pants. He waves as he approaches, saying “I don’t think I ever actually told you my name when we met before. I’m -“
“Sam Winchester,” Castiel says. “I work with the police on occasion, usually with your brother. He mentions you often. It was not hard to connect his brother the veteran to the ex-army doctor needing a place to live.”
“I’m honestly not entirely sure I can afford this place, though,” Sam says, looking at the building and its surroundings.
“Don’t worry,” Castiel says. “I know the landlord; he owes me a favor. I helped him out when his father was accused of murder years ago. South Dakota implements the death penalty.”
“You helped save him from being executed?”
“On the contrary. I ensured it.” He turned sharply and knocked on the door, yelling “ROBERT!”
“I told you its Bobby, ya idjit,” an old man says as he opens the door. “Quit making so much racket. Who’s this?”
“Sam Winchester,” Castiel says, pushing past Bobby and into the building.
“Hi,” Sam says, holding out a hand. “I’m here to look at an apartment with Castiel.”
“Really?” Bobby says as he takes Sam’s hand. “Didn’t figure that boy would ever find a roommate. He’s a good kid, just a little on the strange side.”
“I’ve noticed.” Sam says dryly as they make their way up the stairs. He looks around as he limps through the door, noting the set of stairs to another floor of the apartment and all the boxes cluttering up the area. He figures it must be stuff the old tenants left when they moved out. There’s a decent-sized kitchen off to the side, and he can see a bedroom through an open door close to the stairs. He figures the other bedroom must be at the top of the stairs. Castiel is standing in the middle of the living room, trench coat tossed over the back of the couch.
“So?” Castiel asks, gesturing around the apartment. “Bobby has assured me that the rent is affordable for someone whose only income is army benefits.”
Sam nods, saying “Then this place works for me.”
“Perfect,” says Castiel. “I thought as much, so I’ve already moved in.”
“Just have to clean out some of this stuff,” Sam says at the same time, staring at the skull sitting over the fireplace.
Castiel blushes a little bit. “Well I can clean up some,” he says, stacking some things into a pile and pinning loose papers to the mantle with a pocketknife, tossing a file folder haphazardly into an already cluttered box.
Sam sighs and clears off a table. “I saw your website,” he says, and Castiel smirks a bit. “’The Science of Observation’. Makes you sound pretty full of yourself, saying you can tell a pilot by their hands and what kind of businessman someone is by their tie.”
Castiel sniffs disdainfully. “It is the truth. Others would be able to do it if they just saw what I see. It is not my fault that most humans don’t observe what’s in front of their faces. Its why I work with the police often; they don’t see all the details and have to call me in. Your brother has no small amount of potential, but he squanders it with his team.”
Sam is about to reply when his brother shows up in their doorway. “Enough about my team already, Cas. Got another one of those suicides,” he says tiredly, before noticing Sam sitting in the chair. “Sam? What are you - wait, you were meeting Cas to look at an apartment? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were on your way to a crime scene and hung up, probably whichever one you’re here for my help with,” Castiel says absentmindedly before Sam can answer. “There’s something different about this one, or you wouldn’t have called me.”
Dean nods. “There’s a note. This one was found out in Magnolia.”
“Ah. Who will be on forensics?”
“Uriel.”
“Uriel won’t work with me and I need an assistant.”
“We’ll make something work, Cas, you freaking drama queen. Are you coming or not?”
“I shall follow you in a taxi.”
Dean shrugs, turning to leave, and says “See you later, Sammy,” over his shoulder as he heads down the stairs.
“It’s Sam!” Sam shouts after him, scowling as his brother’s laughter drifts up the stairs. He turns to Castiel, about to ask why the other man felt the need to answer his questions for him, but Castiel’s eyes are sparkling and he looks like he’s about to start dancing a happy jig.
“A note!” Castiel practically shouts, twirling around with glee. “There’s a note, oh it’s like Christmas!” He bolts into the bedroom for something, still going on about the note, then disappears down the stairs. Sam just sits in the chair and stairs at the place Castiel was sitting, wishing he could still move like that.
Bobby comes up and hands him a beer, saying “Don’t think I’ll be waiting on you hand and foot, boy. Not your damn housekeeper. Figure you could use one now that Castiel has run off in his little whirlwind of crazy.”
Sam nods, taking the beer gratefully. “Thanks. I’d love to be able to run off in a whirlwind of crazy, but this fucking leg - “ He stops, realizing his voice has been getting louder as he’s been talking. “Sorry, sorry.”
Bobby just gives him a knowing look. “Don’t worry about it, kid. I’ve got my share of aches and pains.”
Sam sighs and is about to reply when Castiel comes dashing back up that stairs, grabbing the trench coat he forgot off the back of the couch. He starts for the stairs again, but turns back when he reaches the door and stares at Sam for a moment. “You’re a doctor. An ex-army doctor, to be precise. You’ve seen plenty of blood and death.”
“Yeah. Enough for a lifetime,” Sam says.
“Would you like to see more?”
“God, yes,” Sam says. Castiel grins victoriously and rushes down the stairs. Sam grabs his cane and follows after him.
Summary: Sam arrives at 221B Baker Street, and finds that he actually likes it.
A/N: Part 2 of the Sassy!Sherlock fusion! Introducing Dean as Lestrade, and Bobby as Mrs. Hudson. Part 1 is here.
Sam limps over to Baker Street, hating the bus system with a passion. He’s grateful that Seattle has such an extensive bus system, since it was easy for him to make it from his apartment on Eastlake over to downtown, but living near the University of Washington means the bus is almost always packed with college kids, and it gets even worse during rush hour. A crowded bus doesn’t do his leg any favors.
It doesn’t take him long to make it from the bus tunnel to 221B. It looks like a nice place from the outside, and Sam’s not entirely sure he can even afford to pay half the rent; his veterans benefits can only stretch so far, and nobody wants to hire a surgeon with an intermittent tremor in their dominant hand.
Dean had been skeptical about Sam going off to meet with a guy he had just met to see about sharing an apartment, but their conversation had been cut short when Dean was called to a crime scene. Of course, Dean had been more than a little protective since Sam came back with a bullet hole in his shoulder and a limp nobody could figure out the reason for. Dean had offered the guest room of his house, but he had a wife and kid. Sam didn’t want to force Ben, Lisa, or Dean to deal with his nightmares and twitchiness, so he had found himself a cheap place by UW and hoped he’d find a job before he’d be unable to make rent.
Castiel is already waiting when Sam arrives at the door, wearing the same outfit he was the day before; trench coat, suit jacket, dress shirt, blue tie. Sam hopes it’s a different set of shirt and pants. He waves as he approaches, saying “I don’t think I ever actually told you my name when we met before. I’m -“
“Sam Winchester,” Castiel says. “I work with the police on occasion, usually with your brother. He mentions you often. It was not hard to connect his brother the veteran to the ex-army doctor needing a place to live.”
“I’m honestly not entirely sure I can afford this place, though,” Sam says, looking at the building and its surroundings.
“Don’t worry,” Castiel says. “I know the landlord; he owes me a favor. I helped him out when his father was accused of murder years ago. South Dakota implements the death penalty.”
“You helped save him from being executed?”
“On the contrary. I ensured it.” He turned sharply and knocked on the door, yelling “ROBERT!”
“I told you its Bobby, ya idjit,” an old man says as he opens the door. “Quit making so much racket. Who’s this?”
“Sam Winchester,” Castiel says, pushing past Bobby and into the building.
“Hi,” Sam says, holding out a hand. “I’m here to look at an apartment with Castiel.”
“Really?” Bobby says as he takes Sam’s hand. “Didn’t figure that boy would ever find a roommate. He’s a good kid, just a little on the strange side.”
“I’ve noticed.” Sam says dryly as they make their way up the stairs. He looks around as he limps through the door, noting the set of stairs to another floor of the apartment and all the boxes cluttering up the area. He figures it must be stuff the old tenants left when they moved out. There’s a decent-sized kitchen off to the side, and he can see a bedroom through an open door close to the stairs. He figures the other bedroom must be at the top of the stairs. Castiel is standing in the middle of the living room, trench coat tossed over the back of the couch.
“So?” Castiel asks, gesturing around the apartment. “Bobby has assured me that the rent is affordable for someone whose only income is army benefits.”
Sam nods, saying “Then this place works for me.”
“Perfect,” says Castiel. “I thought as much, so I’ve already moved in.”
“Just have to clean out some of this stuff,” Sam says at the same time, staring at the skull sitting over the fireplace.
Castiel blushes a little bit. “Well I can clean up some,” he says, stacking some things into a pile and pinning loose papers to the mantle with a pocketknife, tossing a file folder haphazardly into an already cluttered box.
Sam sighs and clears off a table. “I saw your website,” he says, and Castiel smirks a bit. “’The Science of Observation’. Makes you sound pretty full of yourself, saying you can tell a pilot by their hands and what kind of businessman someone is by their tie.”
Castiel sniffs disdainfully. “It is the truth. Others would be able to do it if they just saw what I see. It is not my fault that most humans don’t observe what’s in front of their faces. Its why I work with the police often; they don’t see all the details and have to call me in. Your brother has no small amount of potential, but he squanders it with his team.”
Sam is about to reply when his brother shows up in their doorway. “Enough about my team already, Cas. Got another one of those suicides,” he says tiredly, before noticing Sam sitting in the chair. “Sam? What are you - wait, you were meeting Cas to look at an apartment? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“You were on your way to a crime scene and hung up, probably whichever one you’re here for my help with,” Castiel says absentmindedly before Sam can answer. “There’s something different about this one, or you wouldn’t have called me.”
Dean nods. “There’s a note. This one was found out in Magnolia.”
“Ah. Who will be on forensics?”
“Uriel.”
“Uriel won’t work with me and I need an assistant.”
“We’ll make something work, Cas, you freaking drama queen. Are you coming or not?”
“I shall follow you in a taxi.”
Dean shrugs, turning to leave, and says “See you later, Sammy,” over his shoulder as he heads down the stairs.
“It’s Sam!” Sam shouts after him, scowling as his brother’s laughter drifts up the stairs. He turns to Castiel, about to ask why the other man felt the need to answer his questions for him, but Castiel’s eyes are sparkling and he looks like he’s about to start dancing a happy jig.
“A note!” Castiel practically shouts, twirling around with glee. “There’s a note, oh it’s like Christmas!” He bolts into the bedroom for something, still going on about the note, then disappears down the stairs. Sam just sits in the chair and stairs at the place Castiel was sitting, wishing he could still move like that.
Bobby comes up and hands him a beer, saying “Don’t think I’ll be waiting on you hand and foot, boy. Not your damn housekeeper. Figure you could use one now that Castiel has run off in his little whirlwind of crazy.”
Sam nods, taking the beer gratefully. “Thanks. I’d love to be able to run off in a whirlwind of crazy, but this fucking leg - “ He stops, realizing his voice has been getting louder as he’s been talking. “Sorry, sorry.”
Bobby just gives him a knowing look. “Don’t worry about it, kid. I’ve got my share of aches and pains.”
Sam sighs and is about to reply when Castiel comes dashing back up that stairs, grabbing the trench coat he forgot off the back of the couch. He starts for the stairs again, but turns back when he reaches the door and stares at Sam for a moment. “You’re a doctor. An ex-army doctor, to be precise. You’ve seen plenty of blood and death.”
“Yeah. Enough for a lifetime,” Sam says.
“Would you like to see more?”
“God, yes,” Sam says. Castiel grins victoriously and rushes down the stairs. Sam grabs his cane and follows after him.