Ficlet: The List (Dean, Gen)
Ficlet: The List
Dean, Gen, no warnings, no spoilers
454 words
Dean goes on a shopping trip...
This is a writing exercise for spnbuddies . The challenge was to write 300-500 words in a male perspective about the prompt of 'shopping'. It was fun to do... Watch Dean shopping
The List
„C’mon, that’s never real silver!”, Dean’s drawl rumbled around the parking lot as he inspected the vast amounts of fake silver and gold necklaces which backed up the assortment of knock-off Rolexes a shady guy with a big trench coat was trying to sell off the street. It may be cheap, way more so than the silver candle holders or cutlery Dean usually used to melt into bullets, but at least with his usual resources he was sure that the bullets would actually kill a shape shifter. The clutter in front of him wouldn’t make any werewolf flinch.
He rolled his eyes and ignored the defensive words of the sales man to make his way to the next supermarket checking his shopping list once again.
Silver. Well, he would have to swing by some antique shop or jeweler later. Too bad that would cut into his latest bunch of fake credit cards more than he would like. Soon enough Spencer Dryden would be broke and the Winchesters would need to apply at the next bank. Sometimes it seemed too easy. But after a week of hustling pool and playing cards it was heaven.
Salt. Yes, they were down to their last ounce and it didn’t become a hunter to run out of salt. Ever.
Lighter fluid. Sam had bitched that Dean used too much of it in their usual salt and burn but the extra runs to the store were worth it in his opinion. At least if they burned them his way there were sure as hell - pun intended - no remains left.
Matches/ Lighters. Dean eyed the angry red blisters on his right hand wearily. This should have shown even Mr. Let’s-Save-Our-Environment, aka Sam Winchester, that only having one lighter was a bad idea. If they did it Dean’s way, maybe they had a vast usage of lighters and matches but at least their hands stayed away from any corpses drenched with incinerating fluids.
Socks. His brother definitely knew how to make holes into those. He didn’t know what kind of toe Kung Fu Sam performed in the secluded space of his huge - like children sized coffin huge - shoes but he definitely went through more socks than the Swiss army.
He didn’t write down their usual order of beer, Jack and chocolate bars. He would never return from a shopping trip again without some sweets for Sam. The guy could be a real bitch when he was on sugar withdrawal.
Dean timidly folded the slap of paper. It wouldn’t do to have a nosy housewife sneak a peak at it… especially since he forgot to add one more item to the list. He withdrew a pen and scribbled in edgy letters: shotgun shells.
***
Dean, Gen, no warnings, no spoilers
454 words
Dean goes on a shopping trip...
This is a writing exercise for spnbuddies . The challenge was to write 300-500 words in a male perspective about the prompt of 'shopping'. It was fun to do... Watch Dean shopping
The List
„C’mon, that’s never real silver!”, Dean’s drawl rumbled around the parking lot as he inspected the vast amounts of fake silver and gold necklaces which backed up the assortment of knock-off Rolexes a shady guy with a big trench coat was trying to sell off the street. It may be cheap, way more so than the silver candle holders or cutlery Dean usually used to melt into bullets, but at least with his usual resources he was sure that the bullets would actually kill a shape shifter. The clutter in front of him wouldn’t make any werewolf flinch.
He rolled his eyes and ignored the defensive words of the sales man to make his way to the next supermarket checking his shopping list once again.
Silver. Well, he would have to swing by some antique shop or jeweler later. Too bad that would cut into his latest bunch of fake credit cards more than he would like. Soon enough Spencer Dryden would be broke and the Winchesters would need to apply at the next bank. Sometimes it seemed too easy. But after a week of hustling pool and playing cards it was heaven.
Salt. Yes, they were down to their last ounce and it didn’t become a hunter to run out of salt. Ever.
Lighter fluid. Sam had bitched that Dean used too much of it in their usual salt and burn but the extra runs to the store were worth it in his opinion. At least if they burned them his way there were sure as hell - pun intended - no remains left.
Matches/ Lighters. Dean eyed the angry red blisters on his right hand wearily. This should have shown even Mr. Let’s-Save-Our-Environment, aka Sam Winchester, that only having one lighter was a bad idea. If they did it Dean’s way, maybe they had a vast usage of lighters and matches but at least their hands stayed away from any corpses drenched with incinerating fluids.
Socks. His brother definitely knew how to make holes into those. He didn’t know what kind of toe Kung Fu Sam performed in the secluded space of his huge - like children sized coffin huge - shoes but he definitely went through more socks than the Swiss army.
He didn’t write down their usual order of beer, Jack and chocolate bars. He would never return from a shopping trip again without some sweets for Sam. The guy could be a real bitch when he was on sugar withdrawal.
Dean timidly folded the slap of paper. It wouldn’t do to have a nosy housewife sneak a peak at it… especially since he forgot to add one more item to the list. He withdrew a pen and scribbled in edgy letters: shotgun shells.
***