DEW: Two Trees
TWO TREES
Rating: K+
Genre: Gumour
Characters: Sam, Dean, Crowley. Crowley's POV
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: Don't own them
xxxxx
Crowley watched from afar as the Winchesters walked through the woods, shovels over the shoulders as they went.
“Between a pair of yew trees at the north end of the wood,” he’d told the Winchesters; that’s where he’d buried the secret stash of weapons he’d collected from various skirmishes in Hell, weapons that would be invaluable to the Winchesters in their current hunt.
He had no intention of joining them; after all, he was the King of Hell, he didn’t do manual labour. Besides, he wasn’t going near those Winchesters with a load of demon-killing blades at their disposal.
He was content to simply watch as the excavations began.
Crowley was still watching hours later as the Winchesters continued digging.
He watched Sam stretch, groaning and kneading his aching shoulders as he did so.
He watched Dean lift the hem of his sweat-soaked tee, letting out a pained groan as he wiped a trickle of perspiration from his sweat-beaded neck.
Crowley wondered when he should tell those two bozos that they were digging between a pair of birch trees.
“Later,” he thought. “If they’re too dense to know the difference, they can dig a little while longer.”
xxxxx
end
Rating: K+
Genre: Gumour
Characters: Sam, Dean, Crowley. Crowley's POV
Spoilers/Warnings: None
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: Don't own them
xxxxx
Crowley watched from afar as the Winchesters walked through the woods, shovels over the shoulders as they went.
“Between a pair of yew trees at the north end of the wood,” he’d told the Winchesters; that’s where he’d buried the secret stash of weapons he’d collected from various skirmishes in Hell, weapons that would be invaluable to the Winchesters in their current hunt.
He had no intention of joining them; after all, he was the King of Hell, he didn’t do manual labour. Besides, he wasn’t going near those Winchesters with a load of demon-killing blades at their disposal.
He was content to simply watch as the excavations began.
Crowley was still watching hours later as the Winchesters continued digging.
He watched Sam stretch, groaning and kneading his aching shoulders as he did so.
He watched Dean lift the hem of his sweat-soaked tee, letting out a pained groan as he wiped a trickle of perspiration from his sweat-beaded neck.
Crowley wondered when he should tell those two bozos that they were digging between a pair of birch trees.
“Later,” he thought. “If they’re too dense to know the difference, they can dig a little while longer.”
xxxxx
end