[spn tv][fic] Sing a Song
This is the fic for emerald_embers's request for help_haiti.
Title: Sing a Song
For: emerald_embers
Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel
Spoilers: Through 5.06
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, language
The Request: Dean and/or Sam teaches Castiel how to use the extra features on his cell phone. Bonus points if Castiel ends up addicted to a cellphone game.
"This is a nice phone," Sam appraises, bouncing the Blackberry on his fingers as if testing the weight. "QWERTY keyboard, internet access, good memory space ... how'd you get a phone this nice, Cas?"
"I believe it belonged to my vessel," Castiel says, looking at the phone and Sam's hand more than Sam himself; the younger Winchester's impressed look fades to a slight frown.
"Oh," he says. "So, what's up? Can't figure out how it works?"
Dean opens the motel room door halfway through the sentence, prompting both Castiel and Sam to twist and look at him. It makes a comical image; Sam dwarfs Castiel in sheer size and height, but their faces are identical looks of surprise, both half-turned and knees knocked together by their position. "Hey," Dean starts, throwing a 7-11 bag on the bed closest to the door. He raises an eyebrow and smirks. "Did I interrupt something? Should I hit the bar for a couple hours?"
"Ha ha," Sam grumbles, rolling his eyes.
Castiel frowns in a diapproving manner. "Sam is teaching me how to more fully utilize my cell phone," he says.
"It's a Blackberry," Sam says reverently.
"So? You've got a Blackberry," Dean points out, sitting heavily on the other bed and stretching across it for the remote control.
"Second-hand," Sam retorts.
"And I don't know why the hell you bought it at all. All that fancy-schmancy shit you never use." Dean can't quite reach the clicker; he doesn't notice when Castiel helpfully twitches a finger and it scoots two inches and into his hand.
"Because we didn't buy a plan with a 3G network," Sam says testily with narrowed eyes.
"Dude, the card has a thousand dollar credit limit and it's buying our gas, too," Dean points out. "I'm not maxing that shit out so you can look at porn 24-7 on your phone." He turns on the television; a sitcom is on, and Dean promptly ignores it, leaning over to pick at the laces on his boots.
Sam hisses, "Dean! Angel!" His hands, one still holding Castiel's phone, come halfway up as if to shield Castiel's ears, but he doesn't complete the movement.
Castiel's opinion on the matter is: "That seems more the sort of behavior you would engage in, Dean."
Dean chucks a shoe in Castiel's general direction, missing by four feet. He wouldn't have dared the same move even five weeks ago, but he's confident by now that Castiel won't be dragging him back down to Hell for throwing a shoe. "Anyway, Cas, whaddaya need the extra shit on your phone for? You only use the phone to contact us, right?"
Sam puts the angel's phone down on the bed, leaning across it to make a grab for the abandoned 7-11 bag. "Hotdogs? Seriously?"
Castiel swallows, and jerks his coat straighter around his shoulders. "I was attempting to change the ringtone to something less grating on my vessel's ears, and my phone directed me to connect to the internet. Many of the phone's features do this. I found it annoying."
"Don't bitch, I got you mustard," Dean says to Sam. Then he smirks at Castiel, his face a smug mask. "So changing the ringtone on your Blackberry is too much for an Angel of the Lord, huh?" he teases. "Here, lemme see it. Sasquatch's gotta eat."
"Dude, I got it," Sam protests, reaching for the phone, but Castiel takes it in hand, rises, and crosses the room with great dignity to hand the phone to Dean. "Come on, Cas, you let Dean do it and you'll probably end up with musical farts for a ringtone."
"Oh, come on, I have more class than that," Dean protests. But Castiel and Sam both give him doubtful looks.
"You murdered any dignity you had left when you whoopee-cushioned Cas," Sam tells him with an arched eyebrow.
"Please do not give me a 'musical fart' ringtone," Castiel says in a deathly serious tone, a hint of pleading at the back of his throat even though he's wearing a tiny frown. The sitcom laugh track cuts in; Castiel spares a glance at the television and it shuts itself off. Sam blinks, but doesn't comment, examining the contents of his 7-11 hotdog box.
Dean scoffs a laugh. "Heh. Don't worry, Cas, I got your back," he says, turning his attention to the phone. "What do you go in for? Hymnals? Orchestra? Church bells?"
"I would merely prefer the ringtone would not imitate an 8-bit binary code," Castiel answers.
"Okay. I got just the thing." Dean grins with teeth. Within seconds Castiel's Blackberry starts blasting Back in Black.
Sam groans, swallowing a bite of his hotdog. "Dean!"
"What? Cas likes it!" Dean protests, still smiling like a satisfied cat.
"Not everybody is into music from the Dark Ages," Sam opines.
Castiel's face betrays nothing either way. "This is nothing like music from the Dark Ages," he says.
Sam's ears turn pink. "I didn't mean the literal Dark Ages."
"The 80's were not the Dark Ages; it was the last gasp of good music before the Backstreet Bitches," Dean points out in a reasonable tone.
"How did you do that?" Castiel asks, leaning over his phone as the song cuts off.
Dean, duly distracted, scoots a few inches closer to Castiel on the bed and leans over, putting them nearly ear-to-ear. "Easy. You just go into Settings, select Audio ... Downloads ... then find the song you want ..." he trails off as he scrolls through the options.
"Hey," Sam says, and Dean and Castiel both look up at Sam, smirking on the other bed with his arms crossed, his half-eaten hotdog by his knee. "Am I interrupting something? Should I hit the bar for a couple of hours?"
Dean chucks his other shoe. This time, he doesn't miss.
fin
Omake:
To Dean's surprise, after being shown how to access the available ringtones Castiel gets fancy. When Dean calls Castiel's phone, Back in Black still plays; but when he uses Sam's phone, it's some fancy orchestra music they play at weddings in soap operas.
"Pachelbel's Canon in D," Sam tells him irritably. "Seriously, there is music besides punk rock."
"Why are you calling my phone when I am in the room?" Castiel asks.
"No reason," Dean and Sam reply at the same time, pocketing their phones.
Castiel frowns at them, but he takes a step forward. "I actually have another question about this phone," he says, turning the Blackberry towards them. "How do you play 'Bejeweled'?"
real fin
Author's Notes: So basically, I never write Sam, Dean, and Castiel into one room together. Now you know why. Actually, if you left me alone with just Sam and Dean they'd carry on like this for hours. Castiel just breaks things up, thank goodness, with his deadpan and inadvertent humor.
Hope you like!
Title: Sing a Song
For: emerald_embers
Characters: Dean, Sam, Castiel
Spoilers: Through 5.06
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, language
The Request: Dean and/or Sam teaches Castiel how to use the extra features on his cell phone. Bonus points if Castiel ends up addicted to a cellphone game.
"This is a nice phone," Sam appraises, bouncing the Blackberry on his fingers as if testing the weight. "QWERTY keyboard, internet access, good memory space ... how'd you get a phone this nice, Cas?"
"I believe it belonged to my vessel," Castiel says, looking at the phone and Sam's hand more than Sam himself; the younger Winchester's impressed look fades to a slight frown.
"Oh," he says. "So, what's up? Can't figure out how it works?"
Dean opens the motel room door halfway through the sentence, prompting both Castiel and Sam to twist and look at him. It makes a comical image; Sam dwarfs Castiel in sheer size and height, but their faces are identical looks of surprise, both half-turned and knees knocked together by their position. "Hey," Dean starts, throwing a 7-11 bag on the bed closest to the door. He raises an eyebrow and smirks. "Did I interrupt something? Should I hit the bar for a couple hours?"
"Ha ha," Sam grumbles, rolling his eyes.
Castiel frowns in a diapproving manner. "Sam is teaching me how to more fully utilize my cell phone," he says.
"It's a Blackberry," Sam says reverently.
"So? You've got a Blackberry," Dean points out, sitting heavily on the other bed and stretching across it for the remote control.
"Second-hand," Sam retorts.
"And I don't know why the hell you bought it at all. All that fancy-schmancy shit you never use." Dean can't quite reach the clicker; he doesn't notice when Castiel helpfully twitches a finger and it scoots two inches and into his hand.
"Because we didn't buy a plan with a 3G network," Sam says testily with narrowed eyes.
"Dude, the card has a thousand dollar credit limit and it's buying our gas, too," Dean points out. "I'm not maxing that shit out so you can look at porn 24-7 on your phone." He turns on the television; a sitcom is on, and Dean promptly ignores it, leaning over to pick at the laces on his boots.
Sam hisses, "Dean! Angel!" His hands, one still holding Castiel's phone, come halfway up as if to shield Castiel's ears, but he doesn't complete the movement.
Castiel's opinion on the matter is: "That seems more the sort of behavior you would engage in, Dean."
Dean chucks a shoe in Castiel's general direction, missing by four feet. He wouldn't have dared the same move even five weeks ago, but he's confident by now that Castiel won't be dragging him back down to Hell for throwing a shoe. "Anyway, Cas, whaddaya need the extra shit on your phone for? You only use the phone to contact us, right?"
Sam puts the angel's phone down on the bed, leaning across it to make a grab for the abandoned 7-11 bag. "Hotdogs? Seriously?"
Castiel swallows, and jerks his coat straighter around his shoulders. "I was attempting to change the ringtone to something less grating on my vessel's ears, and my phone directed me to connect to the internet. Many of the phone's features do this. I found it annoying."
"Don't bitch, I got you mustard," Dean says to Sam. Then he smirks at Castiel, his face a smug mask. "So changing the ringtone on your Blackberry is too much for an Angel of the Lord, huh?" he teases. "Here, lemme see it. Sasquatch's gotta eat."
"Dude, I got it," Sam protests, reaching for the phone, but Castiel takes it in hand, rises, and crosses the room with great dignity to hand the phone to Dean. "Come on, Cas, you let Dean do it and you'll probably end up with musical farts for a ringtone."
"Oh, come on, I have more class than that," Dean protests. But Castiel and Sam both give him doubtful looks.
"You murdered any dignity you had left when you whoopee-cushioned Cas," Sam tells him with an arched eyebrow.
"Please do not give me a 'musical fart' ringtone," Castiel says in a deathly serious tone, a hint of pleading at the back of his throat even though he's wearing a tiny frown. The sitcom laugh track cuts in; Castiel spares a glance at the television and it shuts itself off. Sam blinks, but doesn't comment, examining the contents of his 7-11 hotdog box.
Dean scoffs a laugh. "Heh. Don't worry, Cas, I got your back," he says, turning his attention to the phone. "What do you go in for? Hymnals? Orchestra? Church bells?"
"I would merely prefer the ringtone would not imitate an 8-bit binary code," Castiel answers.
"Okay. I got just the thing." Dean grins with teeth. Within seconds Castiel's Blackberry starts blasting Back in Black.
Sam groans, swallowing a bite of his hotdog. "Dean!"
"What? Cas likes it!" Dean protests, still smiling like a satisfied cat.
"Not everybody is into music from the Dark Ages," Sam opines.
Castiel's face betrays nothing either way. "This is nothing like music from the Dark Ages," he says.
Sam's ears turn pink. "I didn't mean the literal Dark Ages."
"The 80's were not the Dark Ages; it was the last gasp of good music before the Backstreet Bitches," Dean points out in a reasonable tone.
"How did you do that?" Castiel asks, leaning over his phone as the song cuts off.
Dean, duly distracted, scoots a few inches closer to Castiel on the bed and leans over, putting them nearly ear-to-ear. "Easy. You just go into Settings, select Audio ... Downloads ... then find the song you want ..." he trails off as he scrolls through the options.
"Hey," Sam says, and Dean and Castiel both look up at Sam, smirking on the other bed with his arms crossed, his half-eaten hotdog by his knee. "Am I interrupting something? Should I hit the bar for a couple of hours?"
Dean chucks his other shoe. This time, he doesn't miss.
fin
Omake:
To Dean's surprise, after being shown how to access the available ringtones Castiel gets fancy. When Dean calls Castiel's phone, Back in Black still plays; but when he uses Sam's phone, it's some fancy orchestra music they play at weddings in soap operas.
"Pachelbel's Canon in D," Sam tells him irritably. "Seriously, there is music besides punk rock."
"Why are you calling my phone when I am in the room?" Castiel asks.
"No reason," Dean and Sam reply at the same time, pocketing their phones.
Castiel frowns at them, but he takes a step forward. "I actually have another question about this phone," he says, turning the Blackberry towards them. "How do you play 'Bejeweled'?"
real fin
Author's Notes: So basically, I never write Sam, Dean, and Castiel into one room together. Now you know why. Actually, if you left me alone with just Sam and Dean they'd carry on like this for hours. Castiel just breaks things up, thank goodness, with his deadpan and inadvertent humor.
Hope you like!