SPN/DW Oneshot: Give Thy Humors Way
Title: Give Thy Humors Way
Rating: PG
Summary: Dean and Sam are on the hunt, but find they aren't the only ones looking into this particular problem.
Disclaimer: I don't own SPN. I don't own DW. The title is by George Herbert.
A/N: This is a present for my wonderful friend, authoressnebula. It's gotta be posted now, so here's a little something extra in case anyone likes the combination of Doctor Who and SPN.
Give Thy Humors Way
“Dude, for the last time, it’s not a frikking alien!”
Sam sighed. Dean had been cynical about this hunt from the get go. It wasn’t like Sam wasn’t skeptical about alien involvement, but he, at least, was willing to look at the facts.
“I’m not saying it’s aliens, Dean. Remember the Trickster? It’s got to
be something like that. Let’s just not rule it out.”
Dean slammed his hands against the wheel, partly in time to the music and
partly in frustration.
“You know it’s impossible.”
“Our whole lives are impossible.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know.”
Dean glared at his brother before turning his attention back to the
road. Sam sighed and looked out the window, staring at the people in the town.
Red haired girl, tall man with cowboy hat, man in brown coat, punk kid. Every
town was the same.
***
Bobby had agreed with Dean, which made Sam annoyed. It’s not like he always had to be right, but there was definitely more to this case than met the eye and he honestly thought they couldn’t ignore the extra terrestrial evidence.
Dean had cheered up considerably with Bobby on his side. He’d started
singing, which made Sam roll his eyes, but at least Dean was happy. An unhappy
Dean was not an easy thing to live with.
Then they’d rounded the corner and gotten covered in slime. The
slavering beast in front of them sprayed saliva in front of his person up to fifty feet. Rock salt, regular bullets and everything else in their repertoire
was not working.
“Dude, retreat,” Dean shouted. They ran. A flash of blue caught Sam’s
peripheral vision, but he was too busy running to focus.
***
“I so have the shower first,” Dean said, pushing past Sam. Sam listened as the water switched on and went back outside. He wanted to examine this slime further. He took off his jacket and put it carefully in the plastic laundry bag found in their room and then went outside to a hose he’d spotted the day before. The water was cold. Gripping his towel, he rubbed himself as dry as possible before going back into the room and changing. He threw his old clothes in the dumpster and shouted at Dean.
“Dean, I’ll be back. Bring you back some food.”
“Pie!” was the only response. Sam grinned and left. He’d spotted an all
night pharmacy and it was perfect for a little amateur chemistry. Having gotten
everything he needed (and pie), he headed back to the room and got to work as
Dean ate his pie, polished his guns and otherwise made a mess of the room.
Sometimes he loved traveling with his brother.
“You need an actual shower, Sammy.”
“I’ll get one as soon as I’m done here. You’ll just have to put up with
the stench a little while longer.”
Sam was startled by the results of his testing. He only knew a little
bit about what he was doing, but he was pretty sure that these elements weren’t
supposed to go together. He hit the Internet and couldn’t believe what he was
seeing. There was no way this could be possible on Earth. And there wasn’t any
way he could possibly explain that to Dean.
***
Dean was having a good time. Since they’d gotten slimed the night before and Sam had gotten an actual shower, they’d made a lot more progress. Okay, Sam had made a lot more progress, both in personal hygiene and facts about the case. He said they could track the beast from the slime and figured out what would kill it when they’d found it. Dean wasn’t quite sure how dish washer detergent was going to do it, but hey, it killed germs, right?
The creature wasn’t hard to find. Sam was awfully evasive when Dean
inquired as to what it exactly was. But that didn’t really matter. It had
effectively killed four people and that was what mattered.
Sam played bait. Dean loved it when he got to gank the monster. They’d suspended a bucket of the dishwasher detergent above the alley and each had squeeze bottles of their own.
It worked perfectly. The monster practically began to melt and Dean
stepped back from the slime.
“There you are!” said a strange voice. English if he wasn’t mistaken. A
man in a brown coat strolled down the alley. “Well done, fellas. Not as well as
me, but I’m actually quite impressed. A future ahead of you. Still, can’t have
you killing the poor thing. Wait here.”
And he disappeared into a blue box, which till now, Dean hadn’t even
considered. He came out with a vial of something a minute later and started to
feed it to the monster.
“Hey, it killed people!” Dean shouted. “Who the hell are you?” Sam just
stared wide-eyed at the man, as if he recognized him and the box.
“Me, I’m the Doctor and, as for this thing, well, it’s only a
Gravamichivalazacki and not to blame for its mating season habits. Wouldn’t be a
problem in his world. Somebody must’ve dropped him off here as a joke. Not
funny, really. Still, you’ve got it sorted, now we can all nip back home.
Cheers.”
Dean blinked as a hot, blonde girl exited the Blue Box and stared in
exasperation at the man.
“Doctor, you’re doing it again.” She turned to Dean, who unconsciously
ran his hand through his hair. “Sorry, he’s a bit…weird.”
“Oi,” came the man’s voice as he started to pick up the beast, slipping
something around the monster’s claws.
“Just forget you’ve ever seen us. Probably best. Though if you’re ever
in London,” she said, looking closer at Dean, “head for the Powell Estates.”
“Must you grab a new one everywhere we go?” the Doctor asked as they
started to drag the monster into the blue box.
“Not everywhere,” she hastened to say. “Only if it’ll…” and her voice
trailed off as the door slammed shut.
“What?” Dean said stupidly. Sam walked over to join him and they stared
at the slimy spot on the alley ground and then at the blue box.
“I think we’ve been out hunted.”
“By an English dude in a wooden box? What the hell is going on?” Dean
walked over to open the door and demand some answers, but the box suddenly
started to dematerialize as the light on top of it flashed and they could hear a
strange sound like engines revving. He sprang back and they watched, open mouthed, as the box disappeared.
Sam started to laugh. Dean swung around and put his hand out for
emphasis.
“Shut up. Aliens are not real.”
“If you say so, Dean.” Sam picked up their bucket and went back to the car. “I've got first shower.”
Rating: PG
Summary: Dean and Sam are on the hunt, but find they aren't the only ones looking into this particular problem.
Disclaimer: I don't own SPN. I don't own DW. The title is by George Herbert.
A/N: This is a present for my wonderful friend, authoressnebula. It's gotta be posted now, so here's a little something extra in case anyone likes the combination of Doctor Who and SPN.
Give Thy Humors Way
“Dude, for the last time, it’s not a frikking alien!”
Sam sighed. Dean had been cynical about this hunt from the get go. It wasn’t like Sam wasn’t skeptical about alien involvement, but he, at least, was willing to look at the facts.
“I’m not saying it’s aliens, Dean. Remember the Trickster? It’s got to
be something like that. Let’s just not rule it out.”
Dean slammed his hands against the wheel, partly in time to the music and
partly in frustration.
“You know it’s impossible.”
“Our whole lives are impossible.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
“I know.”
Dean glared at his brother before turning his attention back to the
road. Sam sighed and looked out the window, staring at the people in the town.
Red haired girl, tall man with cowboy hat, man in brown coat, punk kid. Every
town was the same.
***
Bobby had agreed with Dean, which made Sam annoyed. It’s not like he always had to be right, but there was definitely more to this case than met the eye and he honestly thought they couldn’t ignore the extra terrestrial evidence.
Dean had cheered up considerably with Bobby on his side. He’d started
singing, which made Sam roll his eyes, but at least Dean was happy. An unhappy
Dean was not an easy thing to live with.
Then they’d rounded the corner and gotten covered in slime. The
slavering beast in front of them sprayed saliva in front of his person up to fifty feet. Rock salt, regular bullets and everything else in their repertoire
was not working.
“Dude, retreat,” Dean shouted. They ran. A flash of blue caught Sam’s
peripheral vision, but he was too busy running to focus.
***
“I so have the shower first,” Dean said, pushing past Sam. Sam listened as the water switched on and went back outside. He wanted to examine this slime further. He took off his jacket and put it carefully in the plastic laundry bag found in their room and then went outside to a hose he’d spotted the day before. The water was cold. Gripping his towel, he rubbed himself as dry as possible before going back into the room and changing. He threw his old clothes in the dumpster and shouted at Dean.
“Dean, I’ll be back. Bring you back some food.”
“Pie!” was the only response. Sam grinned and left. He’d spotted an all
night pharmacy and it was perfect for a little amateur chemistry. Having gotten
everything he needed (and pie), he headed back to the room and got to work as
Dean ate his pie, polished his guns and otherwise made a mess of the room.
Sometimes he loved traveling with his brother.
“You need an actual shower, Sammy.”
“I’ll get one as soon as I’m done here. You’ll just have to put up with
the stench a little while longer.”
Sam was startled by the results of his testing. He only knew a little
bit about what he was doing, but he was pretty sure that these elements weren’t
supposed to go together. He hit the Internet and couldn’t believe what he was
seeing. There was no way this could be possible on Earth. And there wasn’t any
way he could possibly explain that to Dean.
***
Dean was having a good time. Since they’d gotten slimed the night before and Sam had gotten an actual shower, they’d made a lot more progress. Okay, Sam had made a lot more progress, both in personal hygiene and facts about the case. He said they could track the beast from the slime and figured out what would kill it when they’d found it. Dean wasn’t quite sure how dish washer detergent was going to do it, but hey, it killed germs, right?
The creature wasn’t hard to find. Sam was awfully evasive when Dean
inquired as to what it exactly was. But that didn’t really matter. It had
effectively killed four people and that was what mattered.
Sam played bait. Dean loved it when he got to gank the monster. They’d suspended a bucket of the dishwasher detergent above the alley and each had squeeze bottles of their own.
It worked perfectly. The monster practically began to melt and Dean
stepped back from the slime.
“There you are!” said a strange voice. English if he wasn’t mistaken. A
man in a brown coat strolled down the alley. “Well done, fellas. Not as well as
me, but I’m actually quite impressed. A future ahead of you. Still, can’t have
you killing the poor thing. Wait here.”
And he disappeared into a blue box, which till now, Dean hadn’t even
considered. He came out with a vial of something a minute later and started to
feed it to the monster.
“Hey, it killed people!” Dean shouted. “Who the hell are you?” Sam just
stared wide-eyed at the man, as if he recognized him and the box.
“Me, I’m the Doctor and, as for this thing, well, it’s only a
Gravamichivalazacki and not to blame for its mating season habits. Wouldn’t be a
problem in his world. Somebody must’ve dropped him off here as a joke. Not
funny, really. Still, you’ve got it sorted, now we can all nip back home.
Cheers.”
Dean blinked as a hot, blonde girl exited the Blue Box and stared in
exasperation at the man.
“Doctor, you’re doing it again.” She turned to Dean, who unconsciously
ran his hand through his hair. “Sorry, he’s a bit…weird.”
“Oi,” came the man’s voice as he started to pick up the beast, slipping
something around the monster’s claws.
“Just forget you’ve ever seen us. Probably best. Though if you’re ever
in London,” she said, looking closer at Dean, “head for the Powell Estates.”
“Must you grab a new one everywhere we go?” the Doctor asked as they
started to drag the monster into the blue box.
“Not everywhere,” she hastened to say. “Only if it’ll…” and her voice
trailed off as the door slammed shut.
“What?” Dean said stupidly. Sam walked over to join him and they stared
at the slimy spot on the alley ground and then at the blue box.
“I think we’ve been out hunted.”
“By an English dude in a wooden box? What the hell is going on?” Dean
walked over to open the door and demand some answers, but the box suddenly
started to dematerialize as the light on top of it flashed and they could hear a
strange sound like engines revving. He sprang back and they watched, open mouthed, as the box disappeared.
Sam started to laugh. Dean swung around and put his hand out for
emphasis.
“Shut up. Aliens are not real.”
“If you say so, Dean.” Sam picked up their bucket and went back to the car. “I've got first shower.”