Have some raccoon fic!
TITLE: Only Bandits and Soldiers
CHARACTERS: Bobby, Dean, and Sam
GENRE: Gen
RATING: PG
WARNINGS: One very mild swear, wanton destruction, and schmoopy shenanigans
SPOILERS: Not really. This occurs at some unspecified time between the end of Season 1 and Mid-Season 7.
LENGTH: 984 words without the quote
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspired by amber1960's adorable raccoon picture, which can be found one entry down. I didn't go into how it happened, but the boys couldn't exactly talk about it, and aftermath is more fun!
"I foresee that man will resign himself each day to new abominations, and soon that only bandits and soldiers will be left." -Jorge Luis Borges
Bobby propped his feet up on the arm of his couch and massaged the bridge of his nose. It had been a long day. He'd finally decided to give in and take a quick nap when he couldn't focus on the page in front of him anymore, and he kept inexplicably finding he had his eyes closed. He'd earned himself a power nap!
He had just entered that fuzzy state on the edge of sleep when he heard a crash outside the house. There was nothing like a bit of adrenaline to give you a second wind. He grabbed the shotgun propped against his desk and cautiously headed outside.
He scanned the area and saw that his trash can had been knocked over, the contents strewn in a small swath. Two sets of distinctive paw prints were visible in a muddy patch created by the leaky garden hose.
"Raccoons," Bobby scoffed disdainfully. "Haven't seen any of the critters out here in a long while." Maybe it was time to get another guard dog.
A scuffling sound drew his attention to a fallen tree limb over by his fence line. Sure enough, there were two juvenile raccoons peering at him from the other side of the branch.
"Go on and get out of here, you little troublemakers!" Bobby hollered and waved his arms, considering firing a shot into the air to frighten the pests. As he moved closer, the smaller of the two raccoons squeezed in front of the other, glaring at him.
Bobby chuckled; that reminded him of two other troublesome brothers he knew. He was about due for a visit from those knuckleheads, come to think of it...
The larger cub let out a huff that sounded suspiciously like a sigh, and Bobby could have sworn it rolled its eyes. It had quite a lot of fur on top of its head in a very familiar style. The "fur style" of the other rang a bell, too.
"Aw, hell," Bobby felt his headache from earlier coming back with a vengeance. "What have you two idjits gone and done now?
***
Herding raccoons into one's home, even ones that used to be human beings that ought to trust you, was a tricky business. Finally, Bobby had the two raccoon boys sitting in the middle of his kitchen.
"I reckon this is the kind of thing that should wear off on its own, but just in case, I'll do some research on transformation spells and curses. I don't care what you two do in the meantime, so long as it ain't too loud or messy."
He left them to their own devices. Later, he would blame this lapse in judgement upon sleep deprivation.
Bobby knew he had a book specifically about this sort of thing, but he wasn't entirely sure where it was. He had a system, of course, but if something hasn't been needed for nigh unto a decade, it's bound to get lost in the shuffle.
He was scanning about his sixth stack of books when he heard a crash much like the one from earlier in the kitchen.
He stormed into the room to find Dean on top of the refrigerator clutching a box of Bing Bongs that Bobby had all but forgotten he'd stashed away for his next visit from the boys. Everything else that had once been on top of the fridge was now all over the floor. At least Dean looked guilty about it.
Bobby took a deep breath to fuel a rant like Dean probably hadn't been subjected too since, well, the last time he was at Bobby's! He was spared, however, by an even louder crash from the study.
Bobby rushed back to the other room, absently noting the comparatively quiet thud of Dean jumping back to the ground and following him.
Sam was sitting on top of a haphazard pile of books that had fallen from a bookshelf that was now leaning forward on the pile. Sam slouched down and waved a small, hand-like paw sheepishly.
"How did-? What-? That thing had to weigh-!" Bobby was so incensed, he couldn't even finish a blasted sentence! He took a few deep breaths and released a primal roar of perturbation. When he looked around again, both the raccoon brothers were nowhere in sight.
Rather than searching the house for them, Bobby decided discretion was the better part of valor and returned to his research. After all, the boys would be more able to clean up their messes when back in their human bodies.
***
A good hour later, Bobby had made no progress. He flopped forward, letting his forehead hit the desk with a thump and dislodging his cap. Was it so much to ask for a little break? Really?
A moment later, he felt a gentle tugging at his pants leg. He sat up and looked over to see the raccoons blinking up at him, all deceptively cute, fuzzy, and innocent looking. Sam held out the book for which Bobby had been searching in the first place, and Dean offered him a half-empty fifth of whiskey.
"Thanks." Bobby grudgingly accepted the offerings. "I'm not gonna apologize for yelling when you deserved it, though."
The raccoons nodded in unison. If Bobby were the kind of person who cooed at adorableness, he'd be doing so.
"Just...stay where I can see you, all right?"
The raccoons scurried over to the couch. They tussled over the fleece throw before Sam finally claimed it. Everyone present knew Dean had let him. He curled up under the red plaid, only his little black nose visible. Dean sprawled next to his brother, not quite close enough to be touching, with his feet in his brother's face.
Maybe after he was sure they were asleep, Bobby would go find his camera to preserve the moment for posterity. Or blackmail. Could go either way, really.
CHARACTERS: Bobby, Dean, and Sam
GENRE: Gen
RATING: PG
WARNINGS: One very mild swear, wanton destruction, and schmoopy shenanigans
SPOILERS: Not really. This occurs at some unspecified time between the end of Season 1 and Mid-Season 7.
LENGTH: 984 words without the quote
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Inspired by amber1960's adorable raccoon picture, which can be found one entry down. I didn't go into how it happened, but the boys couldn't exactly talk about it, and aftermath is more fun!
"I foresee that man will resign himself each day to new abominations, and soon that only bandits and soldiers will be left." -Jorge Luis Borges
Bobby propped his feet up on the arm of his couch and massaged the bridge of his nose. It had been a long day. He'd finally decided to give in and take a quick nap when he couldn't focus on the page in front of him anymore, and he kept inexplicably finding he had his eyes closed. He'd earned himself a power nap!
He had just entered that fuzzy state on the edge of sleep when he heard a crash outside the house. There was nothing like a bit of adrenaline to give you a second wind. He grabbed the shotgun propped against his desk and cautiously headed outside.
He scanned the area and saw that his trash can had been knocked over, the contents strewn in a small swath. Two sets of distinctive paw prints were visible in a muddy patch created by the leaky garden hose.
"Raccoons," Bobby scoffed disdainfully. "Haven't seen any of the critters out here in a long while." Maybe it was time to get another guard dog.
A scuffling sound drew his attention to a fallen tree limb over by his fence line. Sure enough, there were two juvenile raccoons peering at him from the other side of the branch.
"Go on and get out of here, you little troublemakers!" Bobby hollered and waved his arms, considering firing a shot into the air to frighten the pests. As he moved closer, the smaller of the two raccoons squeezed in front of the other, glaring at him.
Bobby chuckled; that reminded him of two other troublesome brothers he knew. He was about due for a visit from those knuckleheads, come to think of it...
The larger cub let out a huff that sounded suspiciously like a sigh, and Bobby could have sworn it rolled its eyes. It had quite a lot of fur on top of its head in a very familiar style. The "fur style" of the other rang a bell, too.
"Aw, hell," Bobby felt his headache from earlier coming back with a vengeance. "What have you two idjits gone and done now?
***
Herding raccoons into one's home, even ones that used to be human beings that ought to trust you, was a tricky business. Finally, Bobby had the two raccoon boys sitting in the middle of his kitchen.
"I reckon this is the kind of thing that should wear off on its own, but just in case, I'll do some research on transformation spells and curses. I don't care what you two do in the meantime, so long as it ain't too loud or messy."
He left them to their own devices. Later, he would blame this lapse in judgement upon sleep deprivation.
Bobby knew he had a book specifically about this sort of thing, but he wasn't entirely sure where it was. He had a system, of course, but if something hasn't been needed for nigh unto a decade, it's bound to get lost in the shuffle.
He was scanning about his sixth stack of books when he heard a crash much like the one from earlier in the kitchen.
He stormed into the room to find Dean on top of the refrigerator clutching a box of Bing Bongs that Bobby had all but forgotten he'd stashed away for his next visit from the boys. Everything else that had once been on top of the fridge was now all over the floor. At least Dean looked guilty about it.
Bobby took a deep breath to fuel a rant like Dean probably hadn't been subjected too since, well, the last time he was at Bobby's! He was spared, however, by an even louder crash from the study.
Bobby rushed back to the other room, absently noting the comparatively quiet thud of Dean jumping back to the ground and following him.
Sam was sitting on top of a haphazard pile of books that had fallen from a bookshelf that was now leaning forward on the pile. Sam slouched down and waved a small, hand-like paw sheepishly.
"How did-? What-? That thing had to weigh-!" Bobby was so incensed, he couldn't even finish a blasted sentence! He took a few deep breaths and released a primal roar of perturbation. When he looked around again, both the raccoon brothers were nowhere in sight.
Rather than searching the house for them, Bobby decided discretion was the better part of valor and returned to his research. After all, the boys would be more able to clean up their messes when back in their human bodies.
***
A good hour later, Bobby had made no progress. He flopped forward, letting his forehead hit the desk with a thump and dislodging his cap. Was it so much to ask for a little break? Really?
A moment later, he felt a gentle tugging at his pants leg. He sat up and looked over to see the raccoons blinking up at him, all deceptively cute, fuzzy, and innocent looking. Sam held out the book for which Bobby had been searching in the first place, and Dean offered him a half-empty fifth of whiskey.
"Thanks." Bobby grudgingly accepted the offerings. "I'm not gonna apologize for yelling when you deserved it, though."
The raccoons nodded in unison. If Bobby were the kind of person who cooed at adorableness, he'd be doing so.
"Just...stay where I can see you, all right?"
The raccoons scurried over to the couch. They tussled over the fleece throw before Sam finally claimed it. Everyone present knew Dean had let him. He curled up under the red plaid, only his little black nose visible. Dean sprawled next to his brother, not quite close enough to be touching, with his feet in his brother's face.
Maybe after he was sure they were asleep, Bobby would go find his camera to preserve the moment for posterity. Or blackmail. Could go either way, really.