When the Saints Come Marching In (Then Dean will learn respect for lesbians)
Title: When the Saints Come Marching In (Then Dean will learn respect for lesbians)
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gen
Spoilers: Season 6
Length: 1,499 words
Summary: Dean learns a life lesson, Sam nearly dies of laughter and Castiel gets offended.
Author's Note: I am so le tired.
When the Saints Come Marching In
(Then Dean will learn respect for lesbians)
Dean nurses the swelling with a bag of frozen peas pressed to the side of his head. Next to him, in his brand spanking new blind spot, Sam laughs. Well actually, he hollers, clutching his stomach and trying desperately not to roll off the bed.
“Dude, seriously?” He grunts. His black eye is nothing to laugh about. Dean tries to glare at his brother with one eye and finds it less than effective.
There’s a sound in the corner, like canvas snapping open. Dean sighs dramatically, knowing exactly what that means.
“Hello Dean. Sam.” Castiel nods to his younger brother and then frowns at Dean’s frozen peas treatment. Or maybe just at Dean in general.
“Not a good time, Cas.” Dean tells him through gritted teeth. Cas’ frown deepens and he strides purposefully across the room.
“I’ve simply come to tell you that the Horn of Truth has been retrieved so you have no reason to search for it or worry that it may appear. It has been locked back up in heaven’s arsenal.” Cas is examining the deepening purple. Dean can see himself in the flecked and stained mirror that’s nailed to the wall. It’s a really nice color of purple, his black eye. The kind that ends up in the Vogue fall catalogue, or some shit like that.
“Great. Congrats. Now, if there’s nothing else-” Dean beings. Castiel cuts him off.
“If the supernatural phenomena in this town has been dealt with, where did you get this injury?” Cas’ face suddenely hardens. “Was it demons? Or Raphael?”
At this, Sam’s partially under control laughing gets away from him again. The whole bed trembles under him and his giant sasquatch body rolls back in forth.
“No. It wasn’t Raphael or any wandering hell spawn. I’m fine Cas, you can go back to your stupid war.”
“Dean, if you are hiding something from me due to fear for my well being it is misplaced.” Castiel informs him. “I can aid you with whatever caused this.”
“He…” Sam starts, and then has to pause when another fit of silent, trembling laughter has him.
“Don’t you fucking dare Sammy.” Dean snaps. But, true to his brother’s nature, Sam immediately does the opposite of what he’s ordered to.
“He got his ass kicked by a lesbian.” Sam finally manages to choke out, and then collapses again, wheezing pitifully while he tries to catch his breath.
“Jesus Sam!” Dean curses and then hurls the remote at his head. The bitch doesn’t even stop laughing when the damn thing clunks him on his ridiculous haircut.
Castiel seemingly relaxes at this. There’s even a slight quirk at the side of his mouth. Dean groans and considers shooting the bastard. Seriously. It’s not funny. She punched like a fucking quarterback on steroids.
“Oh? And what prompted this woman to punch you in the eye?” Cas asks. Dean glares at him, but finds the one eyed glare even less effective on Cas that it was on Sam.
~*~
He’d been walking out of Pismo’s (seriously, what kind of name is that for a town?) local bar when he’d seen them in an alley way. There’s the cute blonde that he remembers hitting on earlier at the bakery. Short, round soft limbs, peachy skin and perky tits. And her ass. That was one hell of an ass. She’s talking animatedly at another woman- tall, brown skin, with a leanly muscled look to her. Hair bleached white, cut short and flat ironed.
Dean had swaggered over to them, a cocky smile in place. Two lovely ladies, just waiting for him. His lucky night. Then, the tall one had pulled the (deliciously) curvy one against her and slid their mouths together. The cocky smile had momentarily slid off his face and then returned in full swing. Wow. He might not be bringing either of them home, but damn this was a hot free show.
So he gave a long whistle. You know. To show his appreciation.
“You want porn, go find it on the internet, cock sucker.” It’s the tall lean one, giving him a dark look over her girlfriends shoulder. The blonde turns in the other woman’s grip to look over her shoulder.
“You know I really hate being objectified!” The blonde’s voice is just as cute as the rest of her. High pitched and breathy. Like she’d just sucked in helium.
“I’m in a real relationship.” She continues, grasping her girlfriends hand proudly. “And we’re not entertainment for you.” Behind her, the taller woman rolls her eyes, as if she’s used to these LGBT pride moments.
He really should cut his losses here. Apologize. Offer free drinks. Make small talk, or maybe just run. But lesbians aren’t really people to him yet- they remain magical fairies of hot sexy times that exist on the internet for him to stare at fondly. Or, in other words, Dean doesn’t keep his mouth shut.
“Oh, come on, babe. I rarely get this lucky. I promise to be quiet if you keep going. Or, you know, I could even join in. I’m pretty handy with my tongue.” He raises an eyebrow at them suggestively and gives them his best winning smile.
He wins nothing.
Dean’s not even sure how the tall one crossed the five feet between them so quick, just that she’s suddenly in his space, a hand on his collar.
“Y’know the douchebag in the biker bar who comes up and asks you ‘you staring at my woman’?” Her voice is low and cold.
“Sure do, sweetheart. And his girlfriend usually ends up going home with me.” He tells her. It doesn’t seem to faze the woman.
“Well darling” She continues, grinning to show him large white teeth “that’s me. Now fuck off.” She releases his collar and starts to step away. That thing about cutting his losses- now would be and even better time to do it. Really, he’s kind of like the kid who keeps sticking his hand on the stove and then wonders why he got burned.
So, as a parting gift, he gives her a pat on the ass.
She sucker punches him so hard; he swears little blue eyed angels are flying around his head in circles.
~*~
“You have training in combat. Why were you unable to avoid the blow?” Castiel is frowning again, though this time it seems more curious. Like, maybe he’s examining Dean for a curse or something that would explain his sudden inability to defend himself.
“She was a girl, okay?! I didn’t expect to get clocked in the face by a girl!” His defense is terrible. Sam starts laughing again, pretty much just wheezing at the point. If the sasquatch suffocates, it’ll serve him right.
“That is still surprising that she was able to catch you unaware.” Castiel points out. “I have seen you win fights while inebriated, surprised or both. There is a missing component here.”
“Dude, just drop it.” He says. The angel ignores him.
“I will return with information.” Before Dean can tell him not to bother, Castiel is gone.
“Jesus fucking Christ on a stick! Seriously, thanks a lot Sam. Are you gonna tell Bobby to? Maybe get t-shirts made to commemorate the day.”
Sam has mostly gotten himself under control at this point. He turns to Dean with a very solemn expression on his face.
“I intend to petition the government for this to become a national national holiday.” Sam says with all seriousness. And then he promptly fishes his cell phone out of his pocket.
“Wait. What are you doing?” Dean demands. Sam gives him an innocent grin.
“Telling Bobby. It was a great suggestion, Dean.”
Dean lunges across the room, cold peas momentarily flung to the side as he wrestles with Sam for the phone. Just as he pries the cell out of Sam’s hands and gets a finger up his nose for the trouble, Cas reappears.
He’s also glaring, blue eyes set to full angry crackle.
“Dean she is a saint.” The angel informs him. There’s something akin to scandal in his voice, coupled with deep reproach. Dean half expects him to pull out a ruler and start smacking knuckles.
“Wait, what?” He asks.
“She is a saint. Destined to perform miracles in her life time and be a defender of mankind. Through the woman who hit you today, others will glimpse God.” Castiel pauses and then crowds his personal space in an extremely uncomfortable way.
“And you grabbed her ass.” There is a long pause after that, where Dean stares uncomfortably at his feet, the ceiling, the water stains and basically anything but looking at Cas, since he really doesn’t feel like eskimo kissing him. Sam looks uncertain as to whether he should be worried or be having a humor induced heart attack.
“I hope” Castiel says seriously “That you have learned deep respect for lesbians.”
Sam ends up choosing heart attack.
Rating: PG
Pairing: Gen
Spoilers: Season 6
Length: 1,499 words
Summary: Dean learns a life lesson, Sam nearly dies of laughter and Castiel gets offended.
Author's Note: I am so le tired.
When the Saints Come Marching In
(Then Dean will learn respect for lesbians)
Dean nurses the swelling with a bag of frozen peas pressed to the side of his head. Next to him, in his brand spanking new blind spot, Sam laughs. Well actually, he hollers, clutching his stomach and trying desperately not to roll off the bed.
“Dude, seriously?” He grunts. His black eye is nothing to laugh about. Dean tries to glare at his brother with one eye and finds it less than effective.
There’s a sound in the corner, like canvas snapping open. Dean sighs dramatically, knowing exactly what that means.
“Hello Dean. Sam.” Castiel nods to his younger brother and then frowns at Dean’s frozen peas treatment. Or maybe just at Dean in general.
“Not a good time, Cas.” Dean tells him through gritted teeth. Cas’ frown deepens and he strides purposefully across the room.
“I’ve simply come to tell you that the Horn of Truth has been retrieved so you have no reason to search for it or worry that it may appear. It has been locked back up in heaven’s arsenal.” Cas is examining the deepening purple. Dean can see himself in the flecked and stained mirror that’s nailed to the wall. It’s a really nice color of purple, his black eye. The kind that ends up in the Vogue fall catalogue, or some shit like that.
“Great. Congrats. Now, if there’s nothing else-” Dean beings. Castiel cuts him off.
“If the supernatural phenomena in this town has been dealt with, where did you get this injury?” Cas’ face suddenely hardens. “Was it demons? Or Raphael?”
At this, Sam’s partially under control laughing gets away from him again. The whole bed trembles under him and his giant sasquatch body rolls back in forth.
“No. It wasn’t Raphael or any wandering hell spawn. I’m fine Cas, you can go back to your stupid war.”
“Dean, if you are hiding something from me due to fear for my well being it is misplaced.” Castiel informs him. “I can aid you with whatever caused this.”
“He…” Sam starts, and then has to pause when another fit of silent, trembling laughter has him.
“Don’t you fucking dare Sammy.” Dean snaps. But, true to his brother’s nature, Sam immediately does the opposite of what he’s ordered to.
“He got his ass kicked by a lesbian.” Sam finally manages to choke out, and then collapses again, wheezing pitifully while he tries to catch his breath.
“Jesus Sam!” Dean curses and then hurls the remote at his head. The bitch doesn’t even stop laughing when the damn thing clunks him on his ridiculous haircut.
Castiel seemingly relaxes at this. There’s even a slight quirk at the side of his mouth. Dean groans and considers shooting the bastard. Seriously. It’s not funny. She punched like a fucking quarterback on steroids.
“Oh? And what prompted this woman to punch you in the eye?” Cas asks. Dean glares at him, but finds the one eyed glare even less effective on Cas that it was on Sam.
~*~
He’d been walking out of Pismo’s (seriously, what kind of name is that for a town?) local bar when he’d seen them in an alley way. There’s the cute blonde that he remembers hitting on earlier at the bakery. Short, round soft limbs, peachy skin and perky tits. And her ass. That was one hell of an ass. She’s talking animatedly at another woman- tall, brown skin, with a leanly muscled look to her. Hair bleached white, cut short and flat ironed.
Dean had swaggered over to them, a cocky smile in place. Two lovely ladies, just waiting for him. His lucky night. Then, the tall one had pulled the (deliciously) curvy one against her and slid their mouths together. The cocky smile had momentarily slid off his face and then returned in full swing. Wow. He might not be bringing either of them home, but damn this was a hot free show.
So he gave a long whistle. You know. To show his appreciation.
“You want porn, go find it on the internet, cock sucker.” It’s the tall lean one, giving him a dark look over her girlfriends shoulder. The blonde turns in the other woman’s grip to look over her shoulder.
“You know I really hate being objectified!” The blonde’s voice is just as cute as the rest of her. High pitched and breathy. Like she’d just sucked in helium.
“I’m in a real relationship.” She continues, grasping her girlfriends hand proudly. “And we’re not entertainment for you.” Behind her, the taller woman rolls her eyes, as if she’s used to these LGBT pride moments.
He really should cut his losses here. Apologize. Offer free drinks. Make small talk, or maybe just run. But lesbians aren’t really people to him yet- they remain magical fairies of hot sexy times that exist on the internet for him to stare at fondly. Or, in other words, Dean doesn’t keep his mouth shut.
“Oh, come on, babe. I rarely get this lucky. I promise to be quiet if you keep going. Or, you know, I could even join in. I’m pretty handy with my tongue.” He raises an eyebrow at them suggestively and gives them his best winning smile.
He wins nothing.
Dean’s not even sure how the tall one crossed the five feet between them so quick, just that she’s suddenly in his space, a hand on his collar.
“Y’know the douchebag in the biker bar who comes up and asks you ‘you staring at my woman’?” Her voice is low and cold.
“Sure do, sweetheart. And his girlfriend usually ends up going home with me.” He tells her. It doesn’t seem to faze the woman.
“Well darling” She continues, grinning to show him large white teeth “that’s me. Now fuck off.” She releases his collar and starts to step away. That thing about cutting his losses- now would be and even better time to do it. Really, he’s kind of like the kid who keeps sticking his hand on the stove and then wonders why he got burned.
So, as a parting gift, he gives her a pat on the ass.
She sucker punches him so hard; he swears little blue eyed angels are flying around his head in circles.
~*~
“You have training in combat. Why were you unable to avoid the blow?” Castiel is frowning again, though this time it seems more curious. Like, maybe he’s examining Dean for a curse or something that would explain his sudden inability to defend himself.
“She was a girl, okay?! I didn’t expect to get clocked in the face by a girl!” His defense is terrible. Sam starts laughing again, pretty much just wheezing at the point. If the sasquatch suffocates, it’ll serve him right.
“That is still surprising that she was able to catch you unaware.” Castiel points out. “I have seen you win fights while inebriated, surprised or both. There is a missing component here.”
“Dude, just drop it.” He says. The angel ignores him.
“I will return with information.” Before Dean can tell him not to bother, Castiel is gone.
“Jesus fucking Christ on a stick! Seriously, thanks a lot Sam. Are you gonna tell Bobby to? Maybe get t-shirts made to commemorate the day.”
Sam has mostly gotten himself under control at this point. He turns to Dean with a very solemn expression on his face.
“I intend to petition the government for this to become a national national holiday.” Sam says with all seriousness. And then he promptly fishes his cell phone out of his pocket.
“Wait. What are you doing?” Dean demands. Sam gives him an innocent grin.
“Telling Bobby. It was a great suggestion, Dean.”
Dean lunges across the room, cold peas momentarily flung to the side as he wrestles with Sam for the phone. Just as he pries the cell out of Sam’s hands and gets a finger up his nose for the trouble, Cas reappears.
He’s also glaring, blue eyes set to full angry crackle.
“Dean she is a saint.” The angel informs him. There’s something akin to scandal in his voice, coupled with deep reproach. Dean half expects him to pull out a ruler and start smacking knuckles.
“Wait, what?” He asks.
“She is a saint. Destined to perform miracles in her life time and be a defender of mankind. Through the woman who hit you today, others will glimpse God.” Castiel pauses and then crowds his personal space in an extremely uncomfortable way.
“And you grabbed her ass.” There is a long pause after that, where Dean stares uncomfortably at his feet, the ceiling, the water stains and basically anything but looking at Cas, since he really doesn’t feel like eskimo kissing him. Sam looks uncertain as to whether he should be worried or be having a humor induced heart attack.
“I hope” Castiel says seriously “That you have learned deep respect for lesbians.”
Sam ends up choosing heart attack.