Repost: Nikki-Sue Does Her Best
Title: Nikki-Sue Does Her Best
Warnings: Little bitty Mary-Sue
Rating: PG Gen
Summary; So seriously, Becky can't be the only representation of fandom we get to see, right?
“Bullshit.” It’s the first thing out of my mouth. “You are not Carver Edlund and there is no way in hell the Boys are real.”
I don’t have to say who the boys are, even my husband knows who I’m talking about when I refer to “the Boys“.
But Mr. Edlund keeps talking and I keep listening and eventually, well…
****
“This better not be some Candid Camera, ‘Gothcha!’ thing.” I grumble as I knock on the grubby Super 8 motel room door. I try not to think about the possibility that this could be real, that this ALL could be real. The door is opened by a man about my husband‘s age. He’s taller then me , with brown hair, greenish eyes, a five o’clock shadow and a smirk. He would have been cute if I hadn’t been trying my damndest not to have a total spaz attack. I’m not sure if which one of the Boys this is.
“I’m looking for Sam and Dean Winchester.” I offer.
The smirk disappears, “Who’s asking?” and suddenly he’s all business. I glance behind him and I can see another young man sitting on the bed, facing the door, his hand casually behind his back. I realize he might have it resting on a gun and my heart speeds up. I try not to shiver, momentarily realizing that if these are Sam and Dean Winchester then, despite everything, these are very dangerous human beings.
Acting classes don’t fail me now! “So Mr. Edlund says ‘Hi’” I offer in my best casual voice and point at my face, showing off my best grin, “And also Christo. Good enough?”
He just stares for a beat. He shakes his head, “Yeah,” he waves me in. “Come on in. So you another of Chuck’s rabid fan girls?”
I breathe deliberately, counting my heart beats. This is real. “Rabid no, fan girl yes.” I study them both. “So you’re really Sam and Dean? The Winchesters.”
“Yeah.” The one on the couch stands up, and I realize that he is even taller then his brother. His eyes are blue. I know what he will say next. “I’m Sam, this is Dean.” He gestures over to the green eyed man, to Dean. Dean, Dean and Sam. Dean and Sam Winchester. Oh Goddess.
“Whoa! Whoa.” I hear one of them shout as my legs give out and I wonder why I’m half sitting on the floor, half in someone’s arms.
“Whoa.” I agree. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I just- this is real.” I’m still half leaning on Sam. Leaning on Sam. Steady girl but I stare over at Dean “This is real?” I don’t recognize my own voice for the pleading.
He looks sad, apologetic. So that’s what it’s like, watching someone loose their innocence.
“Yeah,” he answers, “This is real.”
I look up at Sam, and force myself to step away from him. I breathe a few times. I can, I will, handle this. “I’m sorry about Jess.” I offer him. It is something I wanted to say since the first book, something no one else ever seemed to say.
A shadow crosses Sam’s eyes, “Thanks." he says simply.
“You’ll have to forgive me, a girl doesn’t get to meet her heroes everyday.” I look between the two of them. SamnDean. Here, in front of me. I can handle this. More things in Heaven and Earth remember?
There is an awkward silence. They seem uncomfortable for some reason I cannot articulate and then Dean rolls on, as Dean does. “So Chuck didn’t send you hear to faint all over us.”
Right, the mission. “Right,” I nod, “So Mr. Edlund thinks a demon might be controlling a woman in white. Making her more vicious. I work at the municipal museum, in the archive vault. He thought I could help.”
“Right.”
“Right.”
Warnings: Little bitty Mary-Sue
Rating: PG Gen
Summary; So seriously, Becky can't be the only representation of fandom we get to see, right?
“Bullshit.” It’s the first thing out of my mouth. “You are not Carver Edlund and there is no way in hell the Boys are real.”
I don’t have to say who the boys are, even my husband knows who I’m talking about when I refer to “the Boys“.
But Mr. Edlund keeps talking and I keep listening and eventually, well…
****
“This better not be some Candid Camera, ‘Gothcha!’ thing.” I grumble as I knock on the grubby Super 8 motel room door. I try not to think about the possibility that this could be real, that this ALL could be real. The door is opened by a man about my husband‘s age. He’s taller then me , with brown hair, greenish eyes, a five o’clock shadow and a smirk. He would have been cute if I hadn’t been trying my damndest not to have a total spaz attack. I’m not sure if which one of the Boys this is.
“I’m looking for Sam and Dean Winchester.” I offer.
The smirk disappears, “Who’s asking?” and suddenly he’s all business. I glance behind him and I can see another young man sitting on the bed, facing the door, his hand casually behind his back. I realize he might have it resting on a gun and my heart speeds up. I try not to shiver, momentarily realizing that if these are Sam and Dean Winchester then, despite everything, these are very dangerous human beings.
Acting classes don’t fail me now! “So Mr. Edlund says ‘Hi’” I offer in my best casual voice and point at my face, showing off my best grin, “And also Christo. Good enough?”
He just stares for a beat. He shakes his head, “Yeah,” he waves me in. “Come on in. So you another of Chuck’s rabid fan girls?”
I breathe deliberately, counting my heart beats. This is real. “Rabid no, fan girl yes.” I study them both. “So you’re really Sam and Dean? The Winchesters.”
“Yeah.” The one on the couch stands up, and I realize that he is even taller then his brother. His eyes are blue. I know what he will say next. “I’m Sam, this is Dean.” He gestures over to the green eyed man, to Dean. Dean, Dean and Sam. Dean and Sam Winchester. Oh Goddess.
“Whoa! Whoa.” I hear one of them shout as my legs give out and I wonder why I’m half sitting on the floor, half in someone’s arms.
“Whoa.” I agree. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I just- this is real.” I’m still half leaning on Sam. Leaning on Sam. Steady girl but I stare over at Dean “This is real?” I don’t recognize my own voice for the pleading.
He looks sad, apologetic. So that’s what it’s like, watching someone loose their innocence.
“Yeah,” he answers, “This is real.”
I look up at Sam, and force myself to step away from him. I breathe a few times. I can, I will, handle this. “I’m sorry about Jess.” I offer him. It is something I wanted to say since the first book, something no one else ever seemed to say.
A shadow crosses Sam’s eyes, “Thanks." he says simply.
“You’ll have to forgive me, a girl doesn’t get to meet her heroes everyday.” I look between the two of them. SamnDean. Here, in front of me. I can handle this. More things in Heaven and Earth remember?
There is an awkward silence. They seem uncomfortable for some reason I cannot articulate and then Dean rolls on, as Dean does. “So Chuck didn’t send you hear to faint all over us.”
Right, the mission. “Right,” I nod, “So Mr. Edlund thinks a demon might be controlling a woman in white. Making her more vicious. I work at the municipal museum, in the archive vault. He thought I could help.”
“Right.”
“Right.”