Winter Prompt for kkkkady
This prompt is for kkkkady, who asked for: Collared timestamp where they're comfortable with each other if not equals. I don't think that this has any spoilers unless you REALLY look and tear this fic apart, but just a straight read-through, I think it'll be okay. However, it's completely up to people if they want to read it or not. kkkkady? Hopefully this hits what you were wanting. :) Your other prompts will be filled soon. ^_^
~~*^*~~
Sam put his book down, tucking his finger between the pages to mark his spot, and glanced up at Dean, waiting patiently. The master was writing off the last details of a recent sale, marking the various ledgers and books he used to keep track of the many bloodlines. Dean kept him waiting until the last bit of ink dried, quietly impressed with the patience of the kid. Finally, he closed the book, setting it aside and meeting the hazel gaze.
“Have you given any thought to breeding Gavin to Gypsy?” the slave asked, and the thought set Dean leaning back in the chair, steepling his fingers against his mouth. Gavin was one of his favorites, the stallion unusually mellow and affectionate, but with great conformation.
Gypsy though, was a recent addition, and the mare was a firecracker; surly with anyone but Aideen, her handler, and showed little interest in any of the foals. The pairing was one that he hadn’t considered, and he still didn’t see where the two might produce any improvements. “Not really, why?”
Sam shrugged. “A thought.” Dean waited, a brow raised, and eventually Sam ducked his head and sighed. “Just a hunch, okay? I think there may be a strong potential there.”
Yup, Dean still wasn’t seeing it. “Why would you think there’s potential?” His tone was curious, not reprimanding, and Sam toyed with the leather around his wrist.
“Gavin’s maternal grandmother, she was out of Donner, right?” Dean grinned at the name he’d chosen long ago for the colt, the same name that had his father realizing it was probably best to wait a little longer before asking a toddler what they wanted to name a four-legged animal. Especially around Christmas. He nodded, and Sam shrugged again and went back to his book. “Just, a really strong feeling.”
The thought lingered the next day, Dean watching the two horses separately, and he still couldn’t see where Sam’s thoughts were coming from. Still, nothing ventured nothing gained, and a whimsical breeding wouldn’t be the first, that’s for sure. Hells, it’s what his family was based on, and Sam’s people did have a knack for their horses. His traitorous mind wondered what a foal out of Kaz would look like, and he firmly squashed the thought, before the temptation could sink in.
He was a righteous man who kept his promises.
He waited a few days, and finally let Sam know his decision. “Alright, how serious are you about this Gavin and Gypsy thing?” he asked one night, spinning his crust idly in the orange tomato soup. Sam glanced up, gauging, and bit his lip.
“Really serious.”
“And if Gypsy rejects her foal?” It wasn’t common, but they had a few mares that just didn’t take well to motherhood, that spurned their offspring, and Dean had learned through bitter heartache that it never hurt to have a plan to deal with that already in place. Sam sighed, scratching his nose for a moment.
“Depending on when you breed her, there may be another mother around that would adopt her. Or you can bottle feed her, as you know.” He grinned at Dean, who just shook his head in amusement.
“Alright, it’s yours.” Sam blinked, and Dean bit into his soggy crust, waiting.
“Are you…. You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. It’s your idea, your plan, so now it’s your project. You keep track of Gypsy, find out the next time she goes into heat, and you’ll supervise the breeding. And it’s your responsibility, got it?”
Sam nodded, watching Dean for a moment longer before going back to his dinner, brow furrowed in thought.
~~*^*~~
“Hey, can I move some horses around?” Sam asked, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom. Dean raised a brow, and spat out his toothpaste.
“Who are you moving, and why?”
Sam laughed. “Not Kaz. I want to put Gypsy down in the stallion barn.” He stumbled back at Dean’s expression.
“Hell no. Forget it. You can move Gavin up to the mare barn if you want, but you are not putting a mare in with the stallions, are we clear?” Sam nodded shakily, hunching in, and Dean sighed. “Someone would wind up getting hurt. There’s some youngsters in there that aren’t mannered yet, and it would rile up too many. I’m not taking that chance.”
Sam nodded again, and Dean had a moment to think he’d just screwed up the progress Sam had made recently when the slave straightened up again. “You said I could move Gavin up, right?”
“Yup. Talk to Stephan about it.”
~~*^*~~
Arms crossed as he watched the stallion tease Gypsy, Dean mused on the last few weeks. Sam had been totally on this, from moving Gavin to the stall next to Gypsy, letting the mare and stallion get used to each other, to talking with the vet when she made her routine visits, to checking on both horses and their handlers daily. He’d let Dean know when he wanted to breed them, and had made the decisions himself. And he was watching the two intently from outside the pen, where Dean had insisted he stay. “I’m not risking you, Sam. It might go smooth as butter, or it might result in a brutal fight. With Gypsy and how she’s surly anyway, I’m not about to risk you in the middle of a breeding fight. Forget it.”
Though, it seemed his worry wasn’t needed. The mare took the stallion quietly and text-book perfectly, and the way Sam was looking, the stallion wasn’t the only one pleased.
~~*^*~~
The hand on his shoulder shaking him awake wasn’t very nice, Dean thought muzzily. “Wha?”
“Gypsy’s foaling,” Bobby said, shaking him again roughly. “Come on, up and at ‘em boy. That mare ain’t gonna wait for you.”
That’s right. Sam’s project, and the massively round mare that had been sending Sam into fits lately. The mare hadn’t shown any sign of being ready to drop by her due date, which apparently didn’t sit well with Sam. Dean sat up, scrubbing his eyes roughly, and sighed. “Do I have to?”
“Yup, come on. I’ll get your boots and coat, you get your boy up.” Bobby left, and Dean groaned. It was still dark out, but he could see the snowflakes kissing the glass, and it figured. He pushed himself away from his warm bed, and shook Sam awake.
“You’re about to have a foal.” Sam blinked at him for a moment, and then scrambled out of his bed, jerking on the heavy pants and thick shirt he liked. Apparently, the kid was anxious or something, Dean thought.
The mare was still pushing when they got to the barn, sweat darkening her coat in the warm stall, and Sam was bouncing impatiently on his toes. Dean had honestly thought he’d have to keep Sam out of the mare’s space physically, but he seemed content to watch.
It wasn’t much longer before the little foal lay in the straw, blinking owlishly at Gypsy. “Wait a few minutes, see how she does with Aideen, okay? If she’s not aggressive, you can go see,” Dean murmured to Sam, who nodded but didn’t look away from the wet foal.
When the little colt started to shakily stand, Aideen stepped closer to steady him and gently towel him down, and Gypsy didn’t seem to pay any attention the human, nickering at the colt. And Dean winced, seeing the colt for the first time. “Oh, god…”
“Can I?” Sam was bouncing like a kid on Christmas, and Dean nodded. He slipped in the stall quietly, petting Gypsy for a moment before kneeling by the shaky colt, grinning.
“Good god, that is one ugly foal, Sam,” Dean groaned, trying to convince himself the thing would change if he stared at it long enough.
Sam glowered at him. “Leave him alone. He’s gorgeous!” Sam stroked the thin neck, smile emerging again. “He’s so very gorgeous.”
Well… he was something. The light grey coat wasn’t unusual at all in their barns, and the structure looked good for it being so early. But… “Sam, do you see the legs?”
Sam laughed quietly, eyes sparkling. “They’re the best part!” Starting at the foal’s shoulders and hips, down to the tiny, dainty hooves, were horizontally striped with black bars, while the tiny white hooves were vertically striped. Dean shook his head, motioning for Sam to leave the two.
He did, reluctantly, pressing up against the bars again to look. Dean edges in close enough to bump his shoulder against Sam’s, waiting until the kid looks at him. “So, what’s the name?” Sam’s a bit blank, so Dean nods to the foal that’s rooting under his mom happily. “Whatcha gonna name it?”
Sam sputters for a moment before staring at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Why would I be kidding?”
“You’re going to let a slave name one of your horses?”
Dean snorted. “Duh. You planned him out from the word go, and you saw the whole thing through. You get to name him.” He wasn’t about to tell the kid that the horse was actually going to be registered under Sam’s name, not just yet.
Sam glanced back in, eyes thoughtful. “Shandor,” he murmured with a firm nod. “He’s Shandor.”
~~*^*~~
Sam put his book down, tucking his finger between the pages to mark his spot, and glanced up at Dean, waiting patiently. The master was writing off the last details of a recent sale, marking the various ledgers and books he used to keep track of the many bloodlines. Dean kept him waiting until the last bit of ink dried, quietly impressed with the patience of the kid. Finally, he closed the book, setting it aside and meeting the hazel gaze.
“Have you given any thought to breeding Gavin to Gypsy?” the slave asked, and the thought set Dean leaning back in the chair, steepling his fingers against his mouth. Gavin was one of his favorites, the stallion unusually mellow and affectionate, but with great conformation.
Gypsy though, was a recent addition, and the mare was a firecracker; surly with anyone but Aideen, her handler, and showed little interest in any of the foals. The pairing was one that he hadn’t considered, and he still didn’t see where the two might produce any improvements. “Not really, why?”
Sam shrugged. “A thought.” Dean waited, a brow raised, and eventually Sam ducked his head and sighed. “Just a hunch, okay? I think there may be a strong potential there.”
Yup, Dean still wasn’t seeing it. “Why would you think there’s potential?” His tone was curious, not reprimanding, and Sam toyed with the leather around his wrist.
“Gavin’s maternal grandmother, she was out of Donner, right?” Dean grinned at the name he’d chosen long ago for the colt, the same name that had his father realizing it was probably best to wait a little longer before asking a toddler what they wanted to name a four-legged animal. Especially around Christmas. He nodded, and Sam shrugged again and went back to his book. “Just, a really strong feeling.”
The thought lingered the next day, Dean watching the two horses separately, and he still couldn’t see where Sam’s thoughts were coming from. Still, nothing ventured nothing gained, and a whimsical breeding wouldn’t be the first, that’s for sure. Hells, it’s what his family was based on, and Sam’s people did have a knack for their horses. His traitorous mind wondered what a foal out of Kaz would look like, and he firmly squashed the thought, before the temptation could sink in.
He was a righteous man who kept his promises.
He waited a few days, and finally let Sam know his decision. “Alright, how serious are you about this Gavin and Gypsy thing?” he asked one night, spinning his crust idly in the orange tomato soup. Sam glanced up, gauging, and bit his lip.
“Really serious.”
“And if Gypsy rejects her foal?” It wasn’t common, but they had a few mares that just didn’t take well to motherhood, that spurned their offspring, and Dean had learned through bitter heartache that it never hurt to have a plan to deal with that already in place. Sam sighed, scratching his nose for a moment.
“Depending on when you breed her, there may be another mother around that would adopt her. Or you can bottle feed her, as you know.” He grinned at Dean, who just shook his head in amusement.
“Alright, it’s yours.” Sam blinked, and Dean bit into his soggy crust, waiting.
“Are you…. You’re joking, right?”
“Nope. It’s your idea, your plan, so now it’s your project. You keep track of Gypsy, find out the next time she goes into heat, and you’ll supervise the breeding. And it’s your responsibility, got it?”
Sam nodded, watching Dean for a moment longer before going back to his dinner, brow furrowed in thought.
~~*^*~~
“Hey, can I move some horses around?” Sam asked, leaning in the doorway of the bathroom. Dean raised a brow, and spat out his toothpaste.
“Who are you moving, and why?”
Sam laughed. “Not Kaz. I want to put Gypsy down in the stallion barn.” He stumbled back at Dean’s expression.
“Hell no. Forget it. You can move Gavin up to the mare barn if you want, but you are not putting a mare in with the stallions, are we clear?” Sam nodded shakily, hunching in, and Dean sighed. “Someone would wind up getting hurt. There’s some youngsters in there that aren’t mannered yet, and it would rile up too many. I’m not taking that chance.”
Sam nodded again, and Dean had a moment to think he’d just screwed up the progress Sam had made recently when the slave straightened up again. “You said I could move Gavin up, right?”
“Yup. Talk to Stephan about it.”
~~*^*~~
Arms crossed as he watched the stallion tease Gypsy, Dean mused on the last few weeks. Sam had been totally on this, from moving Gavin to the stall next to Gypsy, letting the mare and stallion get used to each other, to talking with the vet when she made her routine visits, to checking on both horses and their handlers daily. He’d let Dean know when he wanted to breed them, and had made the decisions himself. And he was watching the two intently from outside the pen, where Dean had insisted he stay. “I’m not risking you, Sam. It might go smooth as butter, or it might result in a brutal fight. With Gypsy and how she’s surly anyway, I’m not about to risk you in the middle of a breeding fight. Forget it.”
Though, it seemed his worry wasn’t needed. The mare took the stallion quietly and text-book perfectly, and the way Sam was looking, the stallion wasn’t the only one pleased.
~~*^*~~
The hand on his shoulder shaking him awake wasn’t very nice, Dean thought muzzily. “Wha?”
“Gypsy’s foaling,” Bobby said, shaking him again roughly. “Come on, up and at ‘em boy. That mare ain’t gonna wait for you.”
That’s right. Sam’s project, and the massively round mare that had been sending Sam into fits lately. The mare hadn’t shown any sign of being ready to drop by her due date, which apparently didn’t sit well with Sam. Dean sat up, scrubbing his eyes roughly, and sighed. “Do I have to?”
“Yup, come on. I’ll get your boots and coat, you get your boy up.” Bobby left, and Dean groaned. It was still dark out, but he could see the snowflakes kissing the glass, and it figured. He pushed himself away from his warm bed, and shook Sam awake.
“You’re about to have a foal.” Sam blinked at him for a moment, and then scrambled out of his bed, jerking on the heavy pants and thick shirt he liked. Apparently, the kid was anxious or something, Dean thought.
The mare was still pushing when they got to the barn, sweat darkening her coat in the warm stall, and Sam was bouncing impatiently on his toes. Dean had honestly thought he’d have to keep Sam out of the mare’s space physically, but he seemed content to watch.
It wasn’t much longer before the little foal lay in the straw, blinking owlishly at Gypsy. “Wait a few minutes, see how she does with Aideen, okay? If she’s not aggressive, you can go see,” Dean murmured to Sam, who nodded but didn’t look away from the wet foal.
When the little colt started to shakily stand, Aideen stepped closer to steady him and gently towel him down, and Gypsy didn’t seem to pay any attention the human, nickering at the colt. And Dean winced, seeing the colt for the first time. “Oh, god…”
“Can I?” Sam was bouncing like a kid on Christmas, and Dean nodded. He slipped in the stall quietly, petting Gypsy for a moment before kneeling by the shaky colt, grinning.
“Good god, that is one ugly foal, Sam,” Dean groaned, trying to convince himself the thing would change if he stared at it long enough.
Sam glowered at him. “Leave him alone. He’s gorgeous!” Sam stroked the thin neck, smile emerging again. “He’s so very gorgeous.”
Well… he was something. The light grey coat wasn’t unusual at all in their barns, and the structure looked good for it being so early. But… “Sam, do you see the legs?”
Sam laughed quietly, eyes sparkling. “They’re the best part!” Starting at the foal’s shoulders and hips, down to the tiny, dainty hooves, were horizontally striped with black bars, while the tiny white hooves were vertically striped. Dean shook his head, motioning for Sam to leave the two.
He did, reluctantly, pressing up against the bars again to look. Dean edges in close enough to bump his shoulder against Sam’s, waiting until the kid looks at him. “So, what’s the name?” Sam’s a bit blank, so Dean nods to the foal that’s rooting under his mom happily. “Whatcha gonna name it?”
Sam sputters for a moment before staring at him. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Why would I be kidding?”
“You’re going to let a slave name one of your horses?”
Dean snorted. “Duh. You planned him out from the word go, and you saw the whole thing through. You get to name him.” He wasn’t about to tell the kid that the horse was actually going to be registered under Sam’s name, not just yet.
Sam glanced back in, eyes thoughtful. “Shandor,” he murmured with a firm nod. “He’s Shandor.”