(no subject)
Title: Conversations In A Cab
Summary: Sam uses the cab ride to the crime scene as an opportunity to find out a little bit more about his new roommate.
A/N: I'm up to part 3, you'd think I'd be better at making up titles by now. Anyways, This is more of the Sherlock fusion I've been writing. It's still in ASiP; there's probably 3 more ficlets that are going to be based on the episode, and then I'm gonna start branching out.
And So It Begins
Unlikely Roommates
“I’m curious,” Sam says as they sit in the back of a cab on their way to the crime scene. “Why are we going to my brother’s crime scene? And how do you know he’ll even let me in, since he didn’t actually invite me?”
“You’re with me, of course he’ll let you in,” Castiel says. “We’re going to a crime scene that just happens to be one your brother has control of. The fact that he is there has nothing to do with us going to it.”
“That doesn’t actually answer my question,” Sam says, fidgeting slightly as he tries to find a comfortable way to fold his legs against the seat in front of him.
The corner of Castiel’s mouth quirks up. “The police call me in to help when they get in over their heads on a case. It happens fairly frequently.”
Sam frowns at the other man. “What do they call your position then? I’d call you a P.I., but I didn’t think the police went to them with cases that often if at all. I would think they wouldn’t want to work with what they would consider to be amateurs. And how did you know about Afghanistan? It’s not the only place that American soldiers are stationed around the world.”
Castiel turns so he’s facing Sam, staring at him intently. “You have a military posture, and although your hair has been growing out since you’ve been injured it’s easy to see the military haircut that used to be there. You talked about the UW lab in the past tense, so military doctor. You’ve got a tan, but not around your wrists; you got sun, but you were wearing a uniform with long sleeves. You have a fairly bad limp, but it looks mostly psychosomatic; when you stand you completely forget about it, and you didn’t ask for a chair when we met in the lab. Psychosomatic implies that it began under traumatic circumstances, so wounded in action. Tan, recent war injury, Afghanistan or Iraq.” Castiel faces the front of the cab again.
“Wow,” Sam says, “That’s amazing.”
Castiel is silent for a few moments, then he turns to look at Sam with an expression of total surprise. “You think so?”
“Of course!” Sam says, grinning. “That was awesome! I had no idea anyone could figure out that much by looking at me!”
“That’s not what people usually say,” Castiel says, looking a bit shocked. Sam sees the tips of his ears turning pink.
“What do people usually say, then?”
“Fuck off, or something else with an equal amount of profanity.” Castiel says quietly.
“Well I think it’s great,” Sam says, and he thinks he can see Castiel smile as the cab pulls up to the crime scene.
Summary: Sam uses the cab ride to the crime scene as an opportunity to find out a little bit more about his new roommate.
A/N: I'm up to part 3, you'd think I'd be better at making up titles by now. Anyways, This is more of the Sherlock fusion I've been writing. It's still in ASiP; there's probably 3 more ficlets that are going to be based on the episode, and then I'm gonna start branching out.
And So It Begins
Unlikely Roommates
“I’m curious,” Sam says as they sit in the back of a cab on their way to the crime scene. “Why are we going to my brother’s crime scene? And how do you know he’ll even let me in, since he didn’t actually invite me?”
“You’re with me, of course he’ll let you in,” Castiel says. “We’re going to a crime scene that just happens to be one your brother has control of. The fact that he is there has nothing to do with us going to it.”
“That doesn’t actually answer my question,” Sam says, fidgeting slightly as he tries to find a comfortable way to fold his legs against the seat in front of him.
The corner of Castiel’s mouth quirks up. “The police call me in to help when they get in over their heads on a case. It happens fairly frequently.”
Sam frowns at the other man. “What do they call your position then? I’d call you a P.I., but I didn’t think the police went to them with cases that often if at all. I would think they wouldn’t want to work with what they would consider to be amateurs. And how did you know about Afghanistan? It’s not the only place that American soldiers are stationed around the world.”
Castiel turns so he’s facing Sam, staring at him intently. “You have a military posture, and although your hair has been growing out since you’ve been injured it’s easy to see the military haircut that used to be there. You talked about the UW lab in the past tense, so military doctor. You’ve got a tan, but not around your wrists; you got sun, but you were wearing a uniform with long sleeves. You have a fairly bad limp, but it looks mostly psychosomatic; when you stand you completely forget about it, and you didn’t ask for a chair when we met in the lab. Psychosomatic implies that it began under traumatic circumstances, so wounded in action. Tan, recent war injury, Afghanistan or Iraq.” Castiel faces the front of the cab again.
“Wow,” Sam says, “That’s amazing.”
Castiel is silent for a few moments, then he turns to look at Sam with an expression of total surprise. “You think so?”
“Of course!” Sam says, grinning. “That was awesome! I had no idea anyone could figure out that much by looking at me!”
“That’s not what people usually say,” Castiel says, looking a bit shocked. Sam sees the tips of his ears turning pink.
“What do people usually say, then?”
“Fuck off, or something else with an equal amount of profanity.” Castiel says quietly.
“Well I think it’s great,” Sam says, and he thinks he can see Castiel smile as the cab pulls up to the crime scene.