Knockin' On Heaven's Door

[dashboardlite]

Who: Dean Winchester and EVERYBODY
Where: Outside the mansion, between the orchards and the Checkerboard Hills
When: July 4; dusk finally sets in and the stars are coming out
Rating: PG to PG-13, for language
Summary: Dean decides that a little patriotism can't hurt in a place devoid of Americana.
The Story:

Comments

[timisnotme]

Tim was going to spend Fourth of July sitting alone in his room with a case of Pabst Blue Ribbon, but when the first few fireworks go off, he has a better idea. He pockets his comm, disappears into the closet for a few minutes, and comes back with a giant duffelbag which he slings over his shoulder and heads out towards the signs of patriotism.

Let's get this party started.

[dashboardlite]

Dean hails his new comrade-in-arms as he approaches. It's been a while since he last saw the guy, but he remembers talking to him since then over the communicator.

"Tim, right?"

He grins, taking another swig of beer and crossing his legs. Dean tilts his head back to look up at the fireworks he just set off.

"You bring some more goods? I hear the best fireworks come from Alabama."

[timisnotme]

"I brought lots." Being supernaturally strong has some benefits afterall. Not only did he bring a buttload of fireworks, but he has a small charcoal BBQ and some brauts. Also more beer because, hey, there's never enough of that.

"We've got nothing better to do than sit around and make shit blow up." He grins and lights one of the medium sized blue ones, he sets it on the ground a bit away from them and then stands back. It shoots off into the sky and makes a lovely star pattern before fizzling out.

"I guess the closet took my request for patriotic fireworks pretty literally."

[dashboardlite]

"Hell yeah," Dean sits upright, eyes raking over everything that Tim carried with him. He brought a grill? Damn, it's a real Fourth of July now, isn't it?

"I just asked for the noisiest and brightest ones. See how many people we can get out here. I dunno how many Americans there are, but everybody likes fireworks, right?" Leaning back on his elbows, Dean watches the stars explode for a few seconds before glancing back to Tim.

"So how ya been, man?"

[itsahotone]

To be honest, Santana's first thought when she hears sudden fireworks is:

"Oh god, please don't be Sue Slyvester."

Who else would announce their arrival in such a way?

But then she gets out there, sees Dean, and her nerves turn to annoyance.

"Seriously?"

[dashboardlite]

Dean quirks a grin and extends a handful of sparklers after turning his back on another lit rocket. It shoots up into the sky and he cringes at the whistle, waiting until it explodes to speak to Santana.

"Want one? It's American."

[itsahotone]

"...What else would it be?" She looks at the sparklers with suspicion, as if it's a trap.

[dashboardlite]

"...are you seriously questioning a sparkler? If you're gonna give me that look every time I offer you something, I'm gonna stop offering you things."

idek, man, he's a grumpybutt. HI DEAN :'D

[idkmybfftrash]

Fucking Americans, always so goddamn loud and obnoxious. Ugh. Upon seeing this, and enduring the booms making his window rattle annoyingly for longer than he cares to, Xanxus goes to make a special request from the Magical Closet of Holding, then stomps on down to the hills, scowling the whole way.

While you're there enjoying your pie and beer and annoying as hell explosions, Xanxus stalks up and, from about 20-30 yards away, javelins a steel pole towards you with a piece of cloth fluttering in the wind, attached to the end.

The rod sinks violently into the ground right between your feet. The piece of cloth? The Italian flag.

"Viva Italia. And shut the fuck up."

PARTY POOPER. :(

[dashboardlite]

Dean is unphased. He's dealt with objectionable people before - Hell, he's one of them. Being belligerent is his speciality. He regards the flag with slight disinterest, having already imbibed copious amounts of beer, and smiles crookedly.

"You got it all wrong," he exclaims, arms akimbo.

"I lik- No, dude, I love Italians. Pizza," Dean informs the man yards away, "Is one of the greatest inventions that mankind has created. And I mean, you guys got some good stuff, too, especially with competition like the freakin' bacon cheeseburger. Have you tried one of those?"

He's a Debbie Downer :(

[idkmybfftrash]

He's sauntering over because, dammit, it's kind of hard to hear from 20ish yards away and he's not really in the mood to shout over fireworks. But he does so leisurely, scowling all the while like merely being in your presences is offensive to him. And yes, he has tried bacon cheeseburgers, and yes, they are awesome, but no, you don't need to know that. "Next time I'm in the mood for cardiac arrest I'll send someone out for it."

When he gets close enough he yanks the patriotic flag-spear out of the ground and examines it, looking like he's far more interested in it than he is in Dean. This nationalism javelin was actually a pretty awesome idea and he's a little proud of himself. He'll have to take one of these with to the next World Cup.

"'Pizza' is an insult. If you're going to kiss Italy's ass for something do it for the wine."

damn you I'm using that term in my post now

[dashboardlite]

Dean makes a face. Wine? Oh, man, no. He doesn't do wine. Wine is not a man's drink. Men drink liquor and beer. That is simply how the world works. If it was good enough for the ancient Egyptians, it's good enough for him.

"Dude, I'm not kissin' anybody's ass today. It's the Fourth of July. It's kind of a big deal."

Aren't Italians supposed to be more friendly? If Dean ever got up the courage to get on a plane, it looks like he's marking that off his list of places to visit. They probably don't even have pie. Speaking of which...

...Dean picks up his tin of delicious apple pie and takes another bite, smiling up at the Angry Italian*.

"Well aren't you a Debbie Downer?"

* - Oxymoron?

[pricesandvaules]

When he hears the explosions, his first thought is Deuce, Deuce is here.
He dismisses the notion quickly--anyone can set off a bomb or a rocket--but goes to investigate anyway.
The source is easy to find, but he refuses to raise his voice, waiting until he is just behind Dean to speak.

I should have known.

[dashboardlite]

"Jesus, dude!"

He sort of spills beer on his jacket, cursing again and wiping it off before turning to look at Droog.

"D'you think you could creep any quieter?"

[pricesandvaules]

Possibly.

[dashboardlite]

Dean makes a face, lets the rest of the beer dry on his jacket, and offers Droog a can.

"Drink it. Consider it reparations for my frayed nerves."

His nerves are so frayed, just look at that smile.

[turn4bout]

Terezi nearly falls out of her window when she tastes cherry-apple blast in the sky. She does topple out when sour grape punch explodes across her "vision," followed quickly lemon-lime, glacial blueberries, and--

Oh god.

She jet packs to the ground, tucks, and roooooollls for a perfect 10 point landing, winning the Beijing Olympics. THE CROWD GOES WILD!!!

But Terezi doesn't give a damn because she's stumbling drunkenly towards the source, tongue lolling about, slobber all over the place. At some point, she's just going to bump into Dean.

"Oh, ahahaha. Hi. How are you? Heheheheh."

[dashboardlite]

"Whoa, hey-"

Dean is just bending down to light another set of fireworks when Terezi bumps into him. He stands, brushing his jeans off and pocketing his Zippo before grinning down at her.

There is very little else that can brighten someone's mood the way that explosives can.

"Heeeey, Terezi, yeah?"

Dean is just a tiny bit off-balance. It comes with the territory when you're drinking and lighting things on fire.

"I'm good, I am...real good. Celebratin' Independence Day. Came out to taste the rainbow, huh?"

[turn4bout]

"It's like my packet of chalk is the sky. And is on fire. I can taste everything."

This is obviously an amazing concept. Amazingly beautiful. It brings a single teal tear to her eye. One that she wipes on Dean's shirt.

"So... what the fuck is all this stuff?"

[dashboardlite]

Dean chuckles and shoves his hands into his pockets, waiting for another Screaming Mimi to whistle its way to explosion before replying.

"Fireworks. They're like bombs, only they last longer and have colors and don't do as much damage."

They must not have had them in the Land-of-Trolls-and-Insect-People.

"We got this holiday on my planet where we celebrate the day we fought against our king 'cause he was a dick, and we won independence."