SPN: What's in a number?
Title: What's in a number?
Author: astri13
Genre/Rating : Gen, PG-13, Crack
Word count: ~ 900
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the boys. No infringement intended.
Summary: Sam's latest text message has unforeseen consequences for Dean. :)
What's in a number?
„Gotcha.“ Sam smiled and grabbed his cell phone, dialing Dean's number. To his chagrin, the call went straight to voice mail. Damn Dean, Sam had specifically asked him not to turn off his phone.
It was bad enough Sam was confined to their motel room - courtesy of a broken ankle - but he needed to have the line of communication open at least. He huffed and threw the cell back on the bed where it bounced slightly.
Of course, Sam also knew that Dean needed the stupid address to make some headway in the case, and Sam had promised to be research boy and dig it up for him. With a put-upon sigh, Sam leaned over and flipped the cell open upside down, his fingers angrily punching the keys to text Dean the necessary information.
About an hour later, Sam was starting to get worried. By three hours, worry had given way to blind panic. It shouldn't have taken Dean that long to deal with a simple kitchen witch. Sam's research had been very thorough, and he was positive the woman wouldn't pose much of a danger.
A knock startled Sam, and he hobbled over to the door as fast as he could - figuring maybe Dean had lost his key. However, when he opened the door, he didn't find himself faced with Dean but a large posse of children, all kindergardeners, as far as Sam could tell.
A little blonde girl at the front was looking up at Sam suspiciously, clutching a tiny, jet-black kitten to her chest.
Sam tried to squat down to her level so as not to appear too intimidating, but he nearly lost his balance in doing so. “Yes?”
“He says he belongs to you,” the girl chirped.
Before Sam had a chance to ask whom the girl was referring to, the kitten in her hands gave a hiss. “I didn't say I belonged to him,” it protested.
Sam gaped at the furry little creature, not exactly sure if he was experiencing auditory hallucinations. Had the kitten just talked? In actual human words?
The girl petted the little animal soothingly. “Sorry Deanie,” she said in apology.
“Deanie?” Sam's echoed blankly, still feeling like he was caught in some crazy
The kitten gave something akin to a little huff. “Mindy, we talked about that. Don't call me by that name.”
Sam held onto the door frame for support. “Dean?”
Now the tiny creature honest-to-god sighed. “Yeah Sam, it's me.”
“But how? Why? How?”
“Questions later. Fixing me NOW.” Dean - the kitten - insisted forcefully.
“He is cursed, like in the fairy tales,“ another little girl piped up. “You hafta kiss him,” she added.
“Eww. Kissing is stupid,” a little boy nixed the idea. “You have to say a spell.”
Probably not so far off, Sam mused, his mind already going into analyzing the situation. At least, he hoped that performing a spell, or undoing one, was a more likely solution than kissing his suddenly felined brother.
“What happened exactly?”
It was the girl, Mindy, who answered. “I found him at Mrs. Harris' front lawn.” She looked down at Dean with adoring eyes. “He is the cutest, little kitty in all the world.”
Sam snickered. His brother, always and forever a ladies man.
Apparently, Mindy felt that Sam didn't show the proper respect to kitten-Dean's cuteness. “He is,” she said defensively, holding Dean closer.
“Sorry,” Sam said, biting his lip.
Dean cleared his throat, and Sam wondered again how it was even possible to make such human noises with his feline anatomy, but considering the whole situation this was probably the least crazy thing about it.
“Mindy, be a good girl and hand me over,” Dean instructed.
Mindy looked crestfallen at the order. “But...but…what if he isn't nice to you?” She fixed Sam with a stern glare, obviously doubting his capabilities to take care of kitten Dean. And, judging by the looks on the other children's faces, Sam felt the sentiment was shared by many.
“I promise I'll be really good to him,” Sam offered, holding out his hand for Dean till a hesitant Mindy finally put Dean into Sam's palm. And Sam was not allowed back into the room before each of the kids had stroked Dean's soft fur in good-bye.
Once the kids were all gone, Sam carried Dean inside and deposited him back on the bed.
“Man,” he sighed. “This is something else, even for us.”
“I know,” Dean grumbled.
“Are you okay?”
It shouldn't be possible for a cat's face to hold such a look of disbelief and exasperation but Dean managed. “Do I look okay?”
Sam only meant to give his brother a friendly, comforting pat but he couldn't help but notice how soft and warm Dean's new furry body felt. “You really are terribly cute, you know.”
“Pet me and die,” Dean announced darkly.
Sam cleared his throat. “How um…how did this happen?”
“Beats me,” Dean answered. “I went to that address you texted me, and it turns out the old woman is a real witch after all.”
Sam frowned. “But I checked and…wait a minute, old woman? Amber Velasquez is only twenty-five.”
“Who the hell is Amber Velasquez?” Dean asked.
“The amateur witch we were trying to find? I texted you her address,” Sam answered. “1967 Milford Drive.”
Dean was quiet for a few seconds before Sam saw him extend his claws. “You goddamn idiot, you sent me to 1697 Milford Drive. Where a real witch happens to live.”
Sam thought about how when he'd texted Dean, the phone had been upside down. Uh-uh. But another witch actually living just a few blocks down the same street, what a funny coincidence.
Unfortunately, Sam actually made the mistake of saying that out loud. However, he didn't get a chance to say anything else before an enraged kitten lunged itself at him.
- The End -
Author: astri13
Genre/Rating : Gen, PG-13, Crack
Word count: ~ 900
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own the boys. No infringement intended.
Summary: Sam's latest text message has unforeseen consequences for Dean. :)
What's in a number?
„Gotcha.“ Sam smiled and grabbed his cell phone, dialing Dean's number. To his chagrin, the call went straight to voice mail. Damn Dean, Sam had specifically asked him not to turn off his phone.
It was bad enough Sam was confined to their motel room - courtesy of a broken ankle - but he needed to have the line of communication open at least. He huffed and threw the cell back on the bed where it bounced slightly.
Of course, Sam also knew that Dean needed the stupid address to make some headway in the case, and Sam had promised to be research boy and dig it up for him. With a put-upon sigh, Sam leaned over and flipped the cell open upside down, his fingers angrily punching the keys to text Dean the necessary information.
About an hour later, Sam was starting to get worried. By three hours, worry had given way to blind panic. It shouldn't have taken Dean that long to deal with a simple kitchen witch. Sam's research had been very thorough, and he was positive the woman wouldn't pose much of a danger.
A knock startled Sam, and he hobbled over to the door as fast as he could - figuring maybe Dean had lost his key. However, when he opened the door, he didn't find himself faced with Dean but a large posse of children, all kindergardeners, as far as Sam could tell.
A little blonde girl at the front was looking up at Sam suspiciously, clutching a tiny, jet-black kitten to her chest.
Sam tried to squat down to her level so as not to appear too intimidating, but he nearly lost his balance in doing so. “Yes?”
“He says he belongs to you,” the girl chirped.
Before Sam had a chance to ask whom the girl was referring to, the kitten in her hands gave a hiss. “I didn't say I belonged to him,” it protested.
Sam gaped at the furry little creature, not exactly sure if he was experiencing auditory hallucinations. Had the kitten just talked? In actual human words?
The girl petted the little animal soothingly. “Sorry Deanie,” she said in apology.
“Deanie?” Sam's echoed blankly, still feeling like he was caught in some crazy
The kitten gave something akin to a little huff. “Mindy, we talked about that. Don't call me by that name.”
Sam held onto the door frame for support. “Dean?”
Now the tiny creature honest-to-god sighed. “Yeah Sam, it's me.”
“But how? Why? How?”
“Questions later. Fixing me NOW.” Dean - the kitten - insisted forcefully.
“He is cursed, like in the fairy tales,“ another little girl piped up. “You hafta kiss him,” she added.
“Eww. Kissing is stupid,” a little boy nixed the idea. “You have to say a spell.”
Probably not so far off, Sam mused, his mind already going into analyzing the situation. At least, he hoped that performing a spell, or undoing one, was a more likely solution than kissing his suddenly felined brother.
“What happened exactly?”
It was the girl, Mindy, who answered. “I found him at Mrs. Harris' front lawn.” She looked down at Dean with adoring eyes. “He is the cutest, little kitty in all the world.”
Sam snickered. His brother, always and forever a ladies man.
Apparently, Mindy felt that Sam didn't show the proper respect to kitten-Dean's cuteness. “He is,” she said defensively, holding Dean closer.
“Sorry,” Sam said, biting his lip.
Dean cleared his throat, and Sam wondered again how it was even possible to make such human noises with his feline anatomy, but considering the whole situation this was probably the least crazy thing about it.
“Mindy, be a good girl and hand me over,” Dean instructed.
Mindy looked crestfallen at the order. “But...but…what if he isn't nice to you?” She fixed Sam with a stern glare, obviously doubting his capabilities to take care of kitten Dean. And, judging by the looks on the other children's faces, Sam felt the sentiment was shared by many.
“I promise I'll be really good to him,” Sam offered, holding out his hand for Dean till a hesitant Mindy finally put Dean into Sam's palm. And Sam was not allowed back into the room before each of the kids had stroked Dean's soft fur in good-bye.
Once the kids were all gone, Sam carried Dean inside and deposited him back on the bed.
“Man,” he sighed. “This is something else, even for us.”
“I know,” Dean grumbled.
“Are you okay?”
It shouldn't be possible for a cat's face to hold such a look of disbelief and exasperation but Dean managed. “Do I look okay?”
Sam only meant to give his brother a friendly, comforting pat but he couldn't help but notice how soft and warm Dean's new furry body felt. “You really are terribly cute, you know.”
“Pet me and die,” Dean announced darkly.
Sam cleared his throat. “How um…how did this happen?”
“Beats me,” Dean answered. “I went to that address you texted me, and it turns out the old woman is a real witch after all.”
Sam frowned. “But I checked and…wait a minute, old woman? Amber Velasquez is only twenty-five.”
“Who the hell is Amber Velasquez?” Dean asked.
“The amateur witch we were trying to find? I texted you her address,” Sam answered. “1967 Milford Drive.”
Dean was quiet for a few seconds before Sam saw him extend his claws. “You goddamn idiot, you sent me to 1697 Milford Drive. Where a real witch happens to live.”
Sam thought about how when he'd texted Dean, the phone had been upside down. Uh-uh. But another witch actually living just a few blocks down the same street, what a funny coincidence.
Unfortunately, Sam actually made the mistake of saying that out loud. However, he didn't get a chance to say anything else before an enraged kitten lunged itself at him.
- The End -