DEW - There's always one ...
Rating: K+
Genre: Humour
Characters: Sam, Dean, Castiel
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: Don't own them
The boys get ready for a Hallowe'en party but the best laid schemes of angels and men often go awry ...
Dean stood proudly outside the bunker, resplendent in a disturbingly figure-hugging Batman costume.
Beside him stood the Impala. Sporting massive gleaming black wings, red go-faster stripes, and tyres that looked like they belonged on the space shuttle, she basked under Dean’s admiring gaze.
“Batman’s gotta have his Batmobile,” Dean crowed, lovingly patting her glossy black fender; “an’ she makes the best Batmobile EVER!”
Behind Dean, and eternally grateful that Batman’s long, black cape covered the obscene bulge of Dean’s spandex-clad ass, Sam adjusted his bowler hat. Alfred had never looked so good.
He glanced at his watch. “Dean, we’re gonna be late.”
“But I can’t go without Robin,” Dean whined; “I’ll look freakin’ stupid!”
Sam perused Dean’s foam-padded pecs, complete with integrated Kevlar nipples and tried to ignore the crushing irony of that statement.
“CAS’, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” Dean yelled into the bunker’s entrance; “C’mon dude, shake a leg!”
They paused on hearing the rapid pitter-patter of footsteps on the bunker’s metal staircase. “Coming,” the angel yelled breathlessly; “I collected my Robin costume this morning, and I’ve been having problems with it.”
As he emerged into the daylight, the brothers’ hearts simultaneously sank.
“My beak didn’t fit.”
xxxxx
end
Genre: Humour
Characters: Sam, Dean, Castiel
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: Don't own them
The boys get ready for a Hallowe'en party but the best laid schemes of angels and men often go awry ...
Dean stood proudly outside the bunker, resplendent in a disturbingly figure-hugging Batman costume.
Beside him stood the Impala. Sporting massive gleaming black wings, red go-faster stripes, and tyres that looked like they belonged on the space shuttle, she basked under Dean’s admiring gaze.
“Batman’s gotta have his Batmobile,” Dean crowed, lovingly patting her glossy black fender; “an’ she makes the best Batmobile EVER!”
Behind Dean, and eternally grateful that Batman’s long, black cape covered the obscene bulge of Dean’s spandex-clad ass, Sam adjusted his bowler hat. Alfred had never looked so good.
He glanced at his watch. “Dean, we’re gonna be late.”
“But I can’t go without Robin,” Dean whined; “I’ll look freakin’ stupid!”
Sam perused Dean’s foam-padded pecs, complete with integrated Kevlar nipples and tried to ignore the crushing irony of that statement.
“CAS’, WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?” Dean yelled into the bunker’s entrance; “C’mon dude, shake a leg!”
They paused on hearing the rapid pitter-patter of footsteps on the bunker’s metal staircase. “Coming,” the angel yelled breathlessly; “I collected my Robin costume this morning, and I’ve been having problems with it.”
As he emerged into the daylight, the brothers’ hearts simultaneously sank.
“My beak didn’t fit.”
xxxxx
end