He probably could've said something the moment he entered the Sensorium, but where's the fun in that? What? Thought the McNinja's were the only Irish ninjas on board? Think again.
Not that Leon had to try hard to be stealthy with the loud music playing.
Anyway, he waited patiently until Dean reached back for a different wrench, then handed it over.
So here Dean is, minding his own business and totally not paying attention like he should be when Leon speaks up. Not that Dean's losing his touch or anything; technically, he's more on alert than normal, considering the whole demon swamp thing from the mission. This explains why Dean flips around and throws the wrench as hard as he can at whatever had just talked.
It's a good thing Leon has good reflexes. Flying wrenches are usually not fun at close range. Or... any range, really.
"Jesus, give a guy a heart attack, why don't you," Dean grumbles, turning back to his car. "You get a kick out of watching people without them knowing you're there?"
"No." He may, however, get a small bit of amusement out of scaring the shit out someone. But that's not what was asked.
"I take it this place was a familiar haunt of yours." By his observation, people only used the Sensoriums for one of two things: Either to find some and creative way to break themselves in half, or to escape for a few hours in a place that was home. He figured this was the latter for Dean.
If Dean were ten years younger, he'd pout, but he's not, and so he doesn't. Instead, he mumbles under his breath about 'jackass ninjas' and continues tinkering at the engine.
"Yeah. It's a place I got back home," Dean answers, not intending to say much more than that. He doesn't want to give away too much. That'd be stupid, and Dean's not exactly ready to trust that this guy's a good guy right off the bat, despite being out in the open on the ship.
But it is a little bit of home, and by the way Dean had been so relaxed before Leon had announced his presence, it was obvious.
There was a light look at Dean. Mostly because 'Spanish Inquisition' was something Leon privately called the denizens he encountered in not!Spain.
"No one expects the Spanish Inquisition. Or so the saying says. Luckily I'm a far cry from them. I've also learned everything I need to know right now." That they were trained by their father explains the irregularities and gaps in Sam's skill set, and most likely Dean's as well.
Not that Leon could see it, since he was already walking towards the exit.
"You only have yourself to blame for that." After all, its not like Dean bothered asking him for any sort of clarification. "Training starts soon. Sam has the details."
Not that Leon had to try hard to be stealthy with the loud music playing.
Anyway, he waited patiently until Dean reached back for a different wrench, then handed it over.
"Is this what you're looking for?"
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What? It's a reflex.
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"Not bad."
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"Jesus, give a guy a heart attack, why don't you," Dean grumbles, turning back to his car. "You get a kick out of watching people without them knowing you're there?"
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"I take it this place was a familiar haunt of yours." By his observation, people only used the Sensoriums for one of two things: Either to find some and creative way to break themselves in half, or to escape for a few hours in a place that was home. He figured this was the latter for Dean.
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"Yeah. It's a place I got back home," Dean answers, not intending to say much more than that. He doesn't want to give away too much. That'd be stupid, and Dean's not exactly ready to trust that this guy's a good guy right off the bat, despite being out in the open on the ship.
But it is a little bit of home, and by the way Dean had been so relaxed before Leon had announced his presence, it was obvious.
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"So what exactly was it that you and your brother used to do back at your home?"
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"We hunt evil. Vampires, werewolves, angry spirits, the whole she-bang. Yes, I know it's crazy, and no, I'm not on any meds."
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"Who trained you?"
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He gives a small sigh. "Our dad. Look, I definitely wasn't expecting the Spanish Inquisition when I woke up this... whatever the hell time it was."
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"No one expects the Spanish Inquisition. Or so the saying says. Luckily I'm a far cry from them. I've also learned everything I need to know right now." That they were trained by their father explains the irregularities and gaps in Sam's skill set, and most likely Dean's as well.
"Anything else will be answered in its own time."
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"Yeah, whatever you say, Yoda," Dean mumbles under his breath, busying himself with his car again.
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"You only have yourself to blame for that." After all, its not like Dean bothered asking him for any sort of clarification. "Training starts soon. Sam has the details."
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