this fic is probably a little Wrong, but eh. I like it.
Title: the advantages of being older
Ficverse: SPN
Series: SPN comment!fic
Rating: PG
Length: 700 ish
Characters: Bela, Gert
Prompted and posted: from 2.17, Heart
Sam: Why do you get always get to hang out with the girls?
Dean: Because I'm older.
Warning/Spoilers: to 3.06, Red Sky At Morning
Disclaimer: Not mine, yada yada.
Notes: Red Sky (and Gert) came up recently in a conversation with bitterlimetwist, and then the prompt reminded me of my own personal little bit of fanon (and interpretation) of that whole situation, and, well. Was kind of a little bit perfect. (Although I'm equally okay with the straight-up interpretation. I just like this idea.)
The shrill jangle of her cell phone broke her concentration, and the spirits fled. Bugger. She’d been getting somewhere.
But one glance at the caller ID and she answered immediately. “Gert? I’m kind of busy here.” But she knew that. Gert was a pro; she didn’t call for no reason. “What is it?”
“Those boys you told me about. The Winchesters? They were just here, asking about Sheila.”
Bela froze. “You’re sure?”
Gert sounded amused. “Tall, gorgeous, stand-out shoulders ... classic rock aliases? Pretty sure, honey.”
“Bugger.” Bela put as much annoyance in that as she could. After all, she was bloody annoyed. Hopefully it was enough to disguise the little thrill running up her spine. It was a long time since she had a challenge so amusing as the Winchesters. Or so handsome.
The wry note in the older lady’s husky voice said Bela hadn’t fooled Gert one bit. It also made the suggestion implicit in her reply sound mischievously dirty. “You know, I think they parked along the waterfront.”
Bela bounced to her feet.
“If you hurry, you might get to it before they do,” Gert prompted, but Bela suspected she was doing it just to be annoying, rather than because she thought Bela actually needed to be encouraged. She had already done the timing arithmetic in her head.
“Yes, yes,” Bela couldn’t keep from snapping back as she raced out the door, and thought she heard a chuckle. She wasn’t sure quite when she’d let the old girl get to know her so well, which was discomfiting, because Bela Talbot did not do anything so gauche as form attachments. Not that it would matter if....
“So how did you play it?” she asked, ruthlessly slamming the lid on that. There would be no “if”. She would not let it.
“Vain gullible cougar,” Gert replied with a wicked laugh that pulled a delighted echo from Bela, brightening her mood considerably. Maybe the sly friendship that had crept up between them was not so inexplicable. “The tall one - Sam? - darling, he is just all kinds of delicious. You should have seen his face.”
“Oh, perfect.” Bela gave another peal of laughter, picturing the scene. Gert may only play the con for the sport of it - it’s not as though she needed the money - but Bela had quickly learned that Gert’s talent as a roper far outweighed the value of her social network of the rich and exploitable. She had no doubt that Gert had performed the scene beautifully.
Reaching the street, she immediately spotted the conspicuous beast Dean Winchester called a car, two blocks away, complete with an entire lack of tall, dimwitted hunters. Oh, perfect.
“We can use this,” she said. The idea wasn’t so much inspiration as foregone conclusion.
Gert sounded less convinced. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Just because that Dean boy ruffles your feathers doesn’t mean you should -”
“Please,” Bela sneered convincingly. Friend or not, there was no reason for Gert to know all the ways Dean Winchester was an uncomfortable presence in her life. No one needed to know what they had in common, and as for the rest.... “He’s just a slightly more interesting diversion than most. Tell me you don’t want to make Sam squirm a little bit more.”
“His blush was adorable and his ass was perky, but I’m not putting this job in jeopardy.” Gert sounded determined. “This is for Sheila.”
Bela checked the street casually as she approached the driver’s side. “Believe me, they’ll be poking around whether we use them or not. We’re far better off making them play our game than letting them stumble on it. Which they will, it’s only a matter of time. And they do have some useful proficiencies.”
On a whim, she tried the handle and discovered she didn’t have to bother breaking in. She shook her head. They deserved to have their car taken; in fact, she was teaching them a valuable lesson. Sliding behind the wheel, it took about two seconds to make the beast roar to life, and in spite of herself she smiled. Something as petty as auto theft suddenly sounded ever so much sexier.
“Alright,” Gert agreed easily. “What have you got in mind?”
Bela’s smile widened. This was going to be fun.
Ficverse: SPN
Series: SPN comment!fic
Rating: PG
Length: 700 ish
Characters: Bela, Gert
Prompted and posted: from 2.17, Heart
Sam: Why do you get always get to hang out with the girls?
Dean: Because I'm older.
Warning/Spoilers: to 3.06, Red Sky At Morning
Disclaimer: Not mine, yada yada.
Notes: Red Sky (and Gert) came up recently in a conversation with bitterlimetwist, and then the prompt reminded me of my own personal little bit of fanon (and interpretation) of that whole situation, and, well. Was kind of a little bit perfect. (Although I'm equally okay with the straight-up interpretation. I just like this idea.)
The shrill jangle of her cell phone broke her concentration, and the spirits fled. Bugger. She’d been getting somewhere.
But one glance at the caller ID and she answered immediately. “Gert? I’m kind of busy here.” But she knew that. Gert was a pro; she didn’t call for no reason. “What is it?”
“Those boys you told me about. The Winchesters? They were just here, asking about Sheila.”
Bela froze. “You’re sure?”
Gert sounded amused. “Tall, gorgeous, stand-out shoulders ... classic rock aliases? Pretty sure, honey.”
“Bugger.” Bela put as much annoyance in that as she could. After all, she was bloody annoyed. Hopefully it was enough to disguise the little thrill running up her spine. It was a long time since she had a challenge so amusing as the Winchesters. Or so handsome.
The wry note in the older lady’s husky voice said Bela hadn’t fooled Gert one bit. It also made the suggestion implicit in her reply sound mischievously dirty. “You know, I think they parked along the waterfront.”
Bela bounced to her feet.
“If you hurry, you might get to it before they do,” Gert prompted, but Bela suspected she was doing it just to be annoying, rather than because she thought Bela actually needed to be encouraged. She had already done the timing arithmetic in her head.
“Yes, yes,” Bela couldn’t keep from snapping back as she raced out the door, and thought she heard a chuckle. She wasn’t sure quite when she’d let the old girl get to know her so well, which was discomfiting, because Bela Talbot did not do anything so gauche as form attachments. Not that it would matter if....
“So how did you play it?” she asked, ruthlessly slamming the lid on that. There would be no “if”. She would not let it.
“Vain gullible cougar,” Gert replied with a wicked laugh that pulled a delighted echo from Bela, brightening her mood considerably. Maybe the sly friendship that had crept up between them was not so inexplicable. “The tall one - Sam? - darling, he is just all kinds of delicious. You should have seen his face.”
“Oh, perfect.” Bela gave another peal of laughter, picturing the scene. Gert may only play the con for the sport of it - it’s not as though she needed the money - but Bela had quickly learned that Gert’s talent as a roper far outweighed the value of her social network of the rich and exploitable. She had no doubt that Gert had performed the scene beautifully.
Reaching the street, she immediately spotted the conspicuous beast Dean Winchester called a car, two blocks away, complete with an entire lack of tall, dimwitted hunters. Oh, perfect.
“We can use this,” she said. The idea wasn’t so much inspiration as foregone conclusion.
Gert sounded less convinced. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Just because that Dean boy ruffles your feathers doesn’t mean you should -”
“Please,” Bela sneered convincingly. Friend or not, there was no reason for Gert to know all the ways Dean Winchester was an uncomfortable presence in her life. No one needed to know what they had in common, and as for the rest.... “He’s just a slightly more interesting diversion than most. Tell me you don’t want to make Sam squirm a little bit more.”
“His blush was adorable and his ass was perky, but I’m not putting this job in jeopardy.” Gert sounded determined. “This is for Sheila.”
Bela checked the street casually as she approached the driver’s side. “Believe me, they’ll be poking around whether we use them or not. We’re far better off making them play our game than letting them stumble on it. Which they will, it’s only a matter of time. And they do have some useful proficiencies.”
On a whim, she tried the handle and discovered she didn’t have to bother breaking in. She shook her head. They deserved to have their car taken; in fact, she was teaching them a valuable lesson. Sliding behind the wheel, it took about two seconds to make the beast roar to life, and in spite of herself she smiled. Something as petty as auto theft suddenly sounded ever so much sexier.
“Alright,” Gert agreed easily. “What have you got in mind?”
Bela’s smile widened. This was going to be fun.