[FIC] SPN: Santa Baby (PG)
TITLE: Santa Baby
CHARACTER(S): Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester and Ruby!
FANDOM: Supernatural
RATING: PG
WARNING(S): Christmas, Santa, Elves, Jews and a pouting demon.
SUMMARY: Ruby pouted, batting her big blue eyes at him. "Come on Santa baby, give an elf a break." She wiggled her toes and the bell attached to her elf shoes jingled.
WORD COUNT: 920
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for
karasuyurei's twenty-something birthday present because I love her! (Forgetting how old she is not withstanding, thankyouverymuch.) So here is her birthday fic. Also, I'm addicted to feedback, so leave comments. Even if it's bad. CRITIQUES MAKE THE WORLD GO ROUND MY FRIENDS!!
-
"Ruby! Get off me!"
Ruby's eyes lit up, practically glowing with whatever dirty thoughts had just graced her mind. "Naughty naughty Sammy Winchester. Dirty boy, thinking of sex when there are children around," she said, poking his chest with her index finger and wrinkling her nose at him as she smiled.
"I said get off me," he hissed, cheeks bright red, as he tried to push her out of his lap. "Not get me off."
Ruby pouted, batting her big blue eyes at him. "Come on Santa baby, give an elf a break." She wiggled her toes and the bell attached to her elf shoes jingled.
"I'm gonna kill Dean."
Ruby looked up, pout gone, looking like Sam had just granted her Christmas wish. "Can I do it?"
-
Sam thought this might have been revenge for that one time he made Dean dress up like Elvis. Come on, Dean had the look, he could pull it off. It wasn't Sam's fault that Dean had gone commando that day.
But Santa?
He was faintly thankful that Ruby had agreed to be his undercover elf, because the Santa suit was a hell of a lot less obvious as, what had Ruby said? A giant elf that was obviously a Jewish spy sent to knock off the Claus. She said the kids would be scared.
Sam thought it might have been the first time Ruby and Dean agreed on something, other then Ruby's constant begging to give him a hair cut. (Dean had defended him, in theory, claiming Sam needed the hair to go with the emo angst crappachino touchy feely Dr Phil thing.)
But the beard was itchy and Ruby kept hopping into his lap every time the line of kids dwindled.
This job sucked.
-
Oh man, this was going down in the books as one of the funniest hunts ever. At least, according to Dean. And he was the oldest, which meant he was always right. It was a brother thing.
Going commando in half a dead cow's worth of leather was so worth it to see the look on Sam's face when Ruby bounced back into the motel room with her skimpy little elf outfit on. And Dean had to admit, not out loud, that she looked smoking. Demons sure knew how to pick 'em.
He wasn't too happy when Sam said Ruby would be joining them for the hunt, but she was keeping his punk brother out of the line of fire. He could dig it.
He waited until the line of kids was almost out the door to speak up from his spot next to the tree where he was hiding a blood laced knife under the guise of Twinkle Light Electrician Extraordinaire.
"Give her a kiss, Santa," he hollered, grinning at his brother before turning to a kid near his feet. "Shouldn't Santa give his elf a kiss?"
The little girl nodded and thus started a wave of 'kiss her!'s that went from the front of the line to the back, like the wave.
Sam glared.
-
Kiss her?
Kiss her?
Dean was dead.
It was official, worst brother on the planet. Screw trying to save him, Sam was just going to let him suffer in an eternity of Hellfire and damnation because Dean was an ass.
"Aww, sorry kiddos," Ruby chirped, giving Sam's hat a little tap, batting the fuzzy ball at the end like an over-enthusiastic kitten. "Santa's got the Mrs to think about. He doesn't want to be naughty, does he?"
The resounding chorus of no's was enough to make Sam actually slump against the seat in relief as Dean erupted in laughter next to the tree, holding onto the branches to keep himself upright.
Dean sucked.
-
"Dude! Watch out for the suit, it's a rental!"
Sam stopped in his tracks and stared at his brother. "A rental?" They were fighting a seriously pissed off ghost of Christmas past and Dean was telling him to watch out for the suit?
"That's gotta be like sacrilegious or somethin', killin' the Santa suit," Dean explained weakly. "Besides," he added with a smart-ass grin. "It looks good on you, Sasquatch.
"Dude. Bite me entirely."
-
Ruby's eyes were wide with shock.
"YOU SHOT ME!"
Dean shrugged. "You were in the way sweetheart, it was either shoot the ghost, and you, or let it go."
The glare Dean got from Ruby was so fierce Sam was amazed she didn't pull her black-eyed surprise on him. She looked down at her red elf dress, torn through from the rock salt and pouted. "You ruined my dress."
-
"What's that?" Sam asked later, rubbing his hair dry with a towel as he dropped loose limbed on the motel bed, looking at his brother curiously.
Dean grinned and held up a series of Polaroids, fanned out in his hand like a royal flush and the smile made him look like he'd just won his soul back on a fluke poker hand. "For posterity," he said.
For blackmail was more like it.
-
Dean rolled over at the smell of coffee and his face hit something sharp and glossy and poking him in the eye and why the Hell was this glossy eye-poking thing on his pillow? Sam was sitting on the opposite bed, elbows on his knees waiting for Dean to wake up.
"Mornin' sunshine," Sam said brightly. "Look familiar?"
Dean studied his freakishly chipper brother for a moment, then looked at his assailant and blanched. Elvis. Dean as.
Blackmail's a bitch, ain't it?
CHARACTER(S): Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester and Ruby!
FANDOM: Supernatural
RATING: PG
WARNING(S): Christmas, Santa, Elves, Jews and a pouting demon.
SUMMARY: Ruby pouted, batting her big blue eyes at him. "Come on Santa baby, give an elf a break." She wiggled her toes and the bell attached to her elf shoes jingled.
WORD COUNT: 920
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Written for
karasuyurei's twenty-something birthday present because I love her! (Forgetting how old she is not withstanding, thankyouverymuch.) So here is her birthday fic. Also, I'm addicted to feedback, so leave comments. Even if it's bad. CRITIQUES MAKE THE WORLD GO ROUND MY FRIENDS!!
-
"Ruby! Get off me!"
Ruby's eyes lit up, practically glowing with whatever dirty thoughts had just graced her mind. "Naughty naughty Sammy Winchester. Dirty boy, thinking of sex when there are children around," she said, poking his chest with her index finger and wrinkling her nose at him as she smiled.
"I said get off me," he hissed, cheeks bright red, as he tried to push her out of his lap. "Not get me off."
Ruby pouted, batting her big blue eyes at him. "Come on Santa baby, give an elf a break." She wiggled her toes and the bell attached to her elf shoes jingled.
"I'm gonna kill Dean."
Ruby looked up, pout gone, looking like Sam had just granted her Christmas wish. "Can I do it?"
-
Sam thought this might have been revenge for that one time he made Dean dress up like Elvis. Come on, Dean had the look, he could pull it off. It wasn't Sam's fault that Dean had gone commando that day.
But Santa?
He was faintly thankful that Ruby had agreed to be his undercover elf, because the Santa suit was a hell of a lot less obvious as, what had Ruby said? A giant elf that was obviously a Jewish spy sent to knock off the Claus. She said the kids would be scared.
Sam thought it might have been the first time Ruby and Dean agreed on something, other then Ruby's constant begging to give him a hair cut. (Dean had defended him, in theory, claiming Sam needed the hair to go with the emo angst crappachino touchy feely Dr Phil thing.)
But the beard was itchy and Ruby kept hopping into his lap every time the line of kids dwindled.
This job sucked.
-
Oh man, this was going down in the books as one of the funniest hunts ever. At least, according to Dean. And he was the oldest, which meant he was always right. It was a brother thing.
Going commando in half a dead cow's worth of leather was so worth it to see the look on Sam's face when Ruby bounced back into the motel room with her skimpy little elf outfit on. And Dean had to admit, not out loud, that she looked smoking. Demons sure knew how to pick 'em.
He wasn't too happy when Sam said Ruby would be joining them for the hunt, but she was keeping his punk brother out of the line of fire. He could dig it.
He waited until the line of kids was almost out the door to speak up from his spot next to the tree where he was hiding a blood laced knife under the guise of Twinkle Light Electrician Extraordinaire.
"Give her a kiss, Santa," he hollered, grinning at his brother before turning to a kid near his feet. "Shouldn't Santa give his elf a kiss?"
The little girl nodded and thus started a wave of 'kiss her!'s that went from the front of the line to the back, like the wave.
Sam glared.
-
Kiss her?
Kiss her?
Dean was dead.
It was official, worst brother on the planet. Screw trying to save him, Sam was just going to let him suffer in an eternity of Hellfire and damnation because Dean was an ass.
"Aww, sorry kiddos," Ruby chirped, giving Sam's hat a little tap, batting the fuzzy ball at the end like an over-enthusiastic kitten. "Santa's got the Mrs to think about. He doesn't want to be naughty, does he?"
The resounding chorus of no's was enough to make Sam actually slump against the seat in relief as Dean erupted in laughter next to the tree, holding onto the branches to keep himself upright.
Dean sucked.
-
"Dude! Watch out for the suit, it's a rental!"
Sam stopped in his tracks and stared at his brother. "A rental?" They were fighting a seriously pissed off ghost of Christmas past and Dean was telling him to watch out for the suit?
"That's gotta be like sacrilegious or somethin', killin' the Santa suit," Dean explained weakly. "Besides," he added with a smart-ass grin. "It looks good on you, Sasquatch.
"Dude. Bite me entirely."
-
Ruby's eyes were wide with shock.
"YOU SHOT ME!"
Dean shrugged. "You were in the way sweetheart, it was either shoot the ghost, and you, or let it go."
The glare Dean got from Ruby was so fierce Sam was amazed she didn't pull her black-eyed surprise on him. She looked down at her red elf dress, torn through from the rock salt and pouted. "You ruined my dress."
-
"What's that?" Sam asked later, rubbing his hair dry with a towel as he dropped loose limbed on the motel bed, looking at his brother curiously.
Dean grinned and held up a series of Polaroids, fanned out in his hand like a royal flush and the smile made him look like he'd just won his soul back on a fluke poker hand. "For posterity," he said.
For blackmail was more like it.
-
Dean rolled over at the smell of coffee and his face hit something sharp and glossy and poking him in the eye and why the Hell was this glossy eye-poking thing on his pillow? Sam was sitting on the opposite bed, elbows on his knees waiting for Dean to wake up.
"Mornin' sunshine," Sam said brightly. "Look familiar?"
Dean studied his freakishly chipper brother for a moment, then looked at his assailant and blanched. Elvis. Dean as.
Blackmail's a bitch, ain't it?