Well, it's nearly done.
Actually, it's been done for a while, but I'm such a slacker with posting. This is a short part, the next (which I'll put up tomorrow) is mildly longer. And then there's the epilogue I feel like shooting myself for writing.
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Hendricksen arrived at the Museum of Natural History to find Sam & Dean Winchester face-planted to the hood of the unmarked toyota, their rights just finished being read to them.
"Hey guys, how's it going?" A smug smirk stamped his features.
"Not bad," Sam replied. "What about you?"
Hendricksen looked at Dean. "Couldn't be better."
Dean leaned over to Sam and whispered, "Is he gay?"
Sam snorted.
"Put them in the car, let's get them down to the station A-sap. Wouldn't want to keep you boys waiting for your life inprisonment, now would we?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because that worked so well last time."
"Life inprisonment, death - that depends on whichever state gets ahold of you boys. I don't really mind as long as you're off the streets." Hendricksen shrugged.
"Hey, can you not make me ride with him?" Sam jerked his head in Dean's direction. "He had burritos for lunch and I don't think you'll let us roll down the windows."
Hendricksen's only reply was a smile as they were shuffled into the cruiser, Dean tripping on what appeared to be his own shoes.
It wasn't until they had turned the corner that Hendricksen contemplated Sam's remark. And then froze, because it was Sam's remark. Not Dean's. Dean was always the cocky one, Sam the quieter. Dean took the lead, Sam was the follower. Yet aside from one remark, that wasn't even directed at him, he'd remained silent through the whole exchange.
Hendricksen looked at the place where Dean displayed an uncharacteristic amount of klutz, and remembered Priestly in the foyer. How he turned when Hendricksen arrived, keeping both his contingent and the two previously present guards in his line of sight. How he straightened and met his stare unflinchingly, albeit mockingly.
"Shit."
*~*~*Four Hours Earlier*~*~*
"Man, I feel like punching myself," Dean grumbled.
Priestly rolled his eyes. "Just shutup man and sit still, unless you want me to poke your eye out."
Dean glared. "Tell me again why we couldn't go with my plan?"
Sam sighed. They'd been over this before. "Because it was stupid."
"It wasn't stupid."
"Seriously dude, no one would have fallen for it."
"They might have," Dean pouted.
Sam looked up at him and couldn't stop the smile from escaping. He did, however, tone it down from a full-blown, shit-eating, 'that canary is mine, bitch' grin to an 'I'm trying so very hard not to laugh'. "Suck it up and quit sulking. The sooner that Priestly's done your eyes, the sooner we can go."
Dean made the mistake of looking in the mirror. His hair was black with slightly a longer green stripe, sticking up in a line from his forehead to his neck; like a burst of grass shooting out from emo ground. Having no actual piercings, Jen had run down to the mall and purchased some fake earrings, which were now on his ears, nose and chin. Piper, the resident artist, had found some henna and worked her magic in the form of the numerous tattoos adorning his arms and neck.
Tish had reluctantly done her part and went to Priestly's place and picked up some of his clothes. Dean was now wearing a baggy pair of jeans, with numerous chains attached, and a shirt which proclaimed, "Only retards wear their collars up." (Sam had found it hilarious.)
His eye twitched.
Sam saw it and the corner of his mouth turned up. "If you want, I can get you the kilt?"
"If you want, I can beat your head in."
"If I say yes, will you wear the kilt?"
Dean's reply was cut off by Priestly's declaration that he was finished. "Finally." Dean jumped up from the chair as though his new appearance was attatched to it.
"Alright," Dean cracked his knuckles and reached for the razor, "Your turn."
Priestly eyed the razor warily. "Do I have to?"
"I suffer, you suffer."
Ten minutes later with his hair shorn, makeup removed, and dressed in one of Deans' Ts and jeans, Priestly looked in the mirror and his eye twitched.
Sam, noticed this one too, and was puzzled. "Queer."
Dean took this as a comment on his new look and glared. "Bitch."
"Jerk."
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