Fic: A Potentially Dangerous Impression, SPN/HSM, Sam/Ryan, NC-17 (25/?)
Title: A Potentially Dangerous Impression (part 25 of ?)
Author: SallySimpson
Fandoms: Supernatural collides with High School Musical
Pairing: Sam Winchester/Ryan Evans
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1306, this chapter
Disclaimers: The usual. I am in no legal or professional way associated with any of the assorted films, shows, studios, actors, etc. I do not pretend this story actually happened, particularly as it's about fictional characters.
Summary: East High is the scene of a bizarre string of cyclical unexplained murders. It's got to be a job for Sam and Dean, but only one of them can go undercover as a high school student.
Innumerable thanks to zillah975 for pushing me to keep the boys' voices true.
1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 || 16 || 17 || 18 || 19 || 20 || 21 || 22 || 23 || 24
In this chapter: Why should Dean do the work when there's someone else to do it for him?
Dean slotted fresh batteries into his homemade EMF meter, then ran a quick scan of their motel room to make sure it was all juiced up and ready to go. Speaking of juice... he thought, and eyed Sam, who was still dragging ass and trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“So, I’m thinking you need to call Ryan,” he said, and just as he’d expected, Sam immediately got all sulky.
“Why?” Sam muttered the question in a tone of voice that should have been snarky, but he clearly just didn’t have the heart to put in it.
“Because,” Dean replied. “What if the drama geeks are doing some kind of rehearsal or set-building or something at the school today?” He looked at Sam pointedly. “You know damn well Ryan can’t go there. Just because the spirit usually kills on school days, that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t jump at the chance to take him out on a weekend.”
Sam shot him an incredulous glare. “God, Dean! Could you be any more insensitive?”
Dean pursed his lips and squinted up at the ceiling for a long moment. “Yes,” he eventually decided. “So, that’s my point. Call him.”
Still ticked off, Sam slouched back against the headboard of his bed. And then his glare turned inward for a few seconds, his concern for Ryan obviously warring with his desire to avoid attempting any conversation with him. “Hey,” he said quietly, and Dean turned to look at him expectantly.
“How about-“ Sam began, sitting up straighter and suddenly talking like it was just the best damn idea all year, “how about you call Sharpay, instead? I mean, she’d for sure know if something’s going on. Because she’d be going too, you know?” Sam eyed him hopefully. “So you can ask her.”
Dean sighed, one big put-upon exhalation that damn near drained his lungs. Then he shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip. “I don’t know, man,” he replied. “I mean, I was thinking that I’d go get us some breakfast-“
“I can go!” Sam cut in immediately.
Score. Dean eyed Sam, reluctance plain on his face. “Are you sure? I mean, you’re, like, hardly up yet.”
“I’m up.” As if to prove his words, Sam rolled off his bed and immediately hunched down on the floor to grab his boots.
“I don’t know. I mean, if you’re sure you don’t want to just call Ryan....”
“I’m sure.” Sam stomped his right foot all the way down into his boot, then knelt to yank the laces tight. “I’m up, I’m sure, I’m going.”
“Great!” Dean shot him a bright smile. “Go to Twinky Pie's. You know, that hole in the wall we passed on route 10 on the way into town? I was there the other night. They’ve got awesome pie.” He dug his car keys out of his jacket pocket, and tossed them at Sam. “Blueberry’d be fine. Extra whipped cream. And don’t forget the coffee.”
Sam’s hand closed around the keys, and he looked at Dean in suspicion. “You’re a dick.”
“Yep. But I’m the dick who’s calling Sharpay. And you, my friend, are the dumbass who just got suckered into getting me some pie.” Smirking, Dean pulled open the door, and gestured out at the bright morning sunlight. “Run along.”
* * *
Dean waited until Sam grumbled his way all the way out the door and into the parking lot, and then waited until the Impala peeled out onto the road, for good measure. Then he dug out his cell phone and sat back on his bed, his expression turning utterly serious.
He flipped through his contacts and selected ‘ryns hot sis,’ then considered the number for a long moment before dialing.
The phone rang three times, and Dean was just starting to formulate some strategy for what he’d do if he couldn’t get ahold of either of the Evans siblings, when Sharpay answered. “This had better be Dean.”
Dean snorted a quick laugh. “Yeah, it is. Why?”
“Because I sure don’t want to talk to your idiot brother,” came the response. “You, on the other hand....”
“Me.” Dean nodded, mentally snickering at all the crap Sam had had to go through in the past week with just that one flippin’ family. “I didn’t interrupt your beauty sleep, did I?”
“Baby, beauty sleep is for ugly girls. I look this good all the time,” she answered, and this time Dean laughed out loud.
“Got it,” he said. He settled back against the headboard, and tried to summon up some pure calm, nothing to get anyone’s interest up. Move along, nothing to see here. “So, hey,” he began, “are you doing anything today?”
“I could be.” Dean could hear the sly smile in Sharpay’s voice, and he had to remind himself of his game plan. “But plans can change.”
“Ohh, right.” Dean thudded his head lightly against the wall. Celibacy was not a good look on him, he knew. Stupid case. “So, um. I guess you’re not doing that theater thing at the school today?”
There was a pause. “What?”
“The theater thing. Um, organizing... stuff, I guess. For the fall play, or something?” Dean winced, and silently cursed himself for not thinking ahead and coming up with something better.
“There’s no theater thing today,” Sharpay replied. “I would know. Ryan and I are co-presidents of the East High drama club.”
“Oh, sorry. My mistake,” Dean answered. “So, great. Talk to you soon, then!” He pulled the cell phone from his ear and was about to click off, but already he could hear the insect-sized squeak of Sharpay’s retort coming through. He sighed, and put the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, what? I couldn’t hear you.”
“I said, what the hell is going on?”
Dean blinked. “Huh? Nothing. Nothing’s going on,” he assured her. “I just got my dates mixed up, is all.”
“No.” Sharpay’s voice was all no-nonsense now, and Dean tried to ignore a sudden vision of her bossing someone around... while dressed in black leather and stilettos. “I mean what the hell is with you and Sam? Sam seems convinced that someone’s trying to hurt Ryan.”
Oh. Fuck. “...What?” Dean replied, and forced a chuckle. “God, no. Why would anyone want to hurt Ryan? I’m sure he was just exaggerating again.” He chuckled again. “That’s my brother Sammy. Drama drama drama all the time, you know? He just likes thinking everything’s so much more exciting than it really is, because then he can pretend he’s a superhero or some shit.” Dean waited stiffly, hoping Sharpay would take the bait.
No such luck. “That sounds really stupid,” she pointed out.
“Oh yeah, stupid as all-get-out. But you kinda gotta feel for the kid, you know?” Dean blundered on. “Living in his fantasy world, pretending evil lurks around every corner-“
“Dean,” Sharpay cut in. “I don’t believe you. Sam obviously really thinks Ryan’s in danger, and by the way? He’s freaking Ryan the hell out. So I want to know what the fuck is going on.” She paused, obviously expecting Dean to cough up some plausible explanation already.
Yeah, that’s not happening either. “Nothing. Nothing’s going on. Sam’s fine, he’s just kind of a nut. I mean, he’s my brother and I love him to pieces, but he’s got this hero complex, I’m telling you.” Dean rubbed his eyes, realizing that he was suddenly edging uncomfortably close to the actual truth. Which was a seriously bad idea all around. “And Ryan’s fine, and you’re fine, and you’re not going anywhere near your school this weekend, and that’s all well and good. So, great!” Dean paused to inhale a deep breath. “Good talking to you!”
“Wait! Dean, I want to know-“
But this time he went ahead and hung up.
To Chapter 26
Author: SallySimpson
Fandoms: Supernatural collides with High School Musical
Pairing: Sam Winchester/Ryan Evans
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1306, this chapter
Disclaimers: The usual. I am in no legal or professional way associated with any of the assorted films, shows, studios, actors, etc. I do not pretend this story actually happened, particularly as it's about fictional characters.
Summary: East High is the scene of a bizarre string of cyclical unexplained murders. It's got to be a job for Sam and Dean, but only one of them can go undercover as a high school student.
Innumerable thanks to zillah975 for pushing me to keep the boys' voices true.
1 || 2 || 3 || 4 || 5 || 6 || 7 || 8 || 9 || 10 || 11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 || 16 || 17 || 18 || 19 || 20 || 21 || 22 || 23 || 24
In this chapter: Why should Dean do the work when there's someone else to do it for him?
Dean slotted fresh batteries into his homemade EMF meter, then ran a quick scan of their motel room to make sure it was all juiced up and ready to go. Speaking of juice... he thought, and eyed Sam, who was still dragging ass and trying to rub the sleep from his eyes.
“So, I’m thinking you need to call Ryan,” he said, and just as he’d expected, Sam immediately got all sulky.
“Why?” Sam muttered the question in a tone of voice that should have been snarky, but he clearly just didn’t have the heart to put in it.
“Because,” Dean replied. “What if the drama geeks are doing some kind of rehearsal or set-building or something at the school today?” He looked at Sam pointedly. “You know damn well Ryan can’t go there. Just because the spirit usually kills on school days, that doesn’t mean it wouldn’t jump at the chance to take him out on a weekend.”
Sam shot him an incredulous glare. “God, Dean! Could you be any more insensitive?”
Dean pursed his lips and squinted up at the ceiling for a long moment. “Yes,” he eventually decided. “So, that’s my point. Call him.”
Still ticked off, Sam slouched back against the headboard of his bed. And then his glare turned inward for a few seconds, his concern for Ryan obviously warring with his desire to avoid attempting any conversation with him. “Hey,” he said quietly, and Dean turned to look at him expectantly.
“How about-“ Sam began, sitting up straighter and suddenly talking like it was just the best damn idea all year, “how about you call Sharpay, instead? I mean, she’d for sure know if something’s going on. Because she’d be going too, you know?” Sam eyed him hopefully. “So you can ask her.”
Dean sighed, one big put-upon exhalation that damn near drained his lungs. Then he shook his head, chewing on his bottom lip. “I don’t know, man,” he replied. “I mean, I was thinking that I’d go get us some breakfast-“
“I can go!” Sam cut in immediately.
Score. Dean eyed Sam, reluctance plain on his face. “Are you sure? I mean, you’re, like, hardly up yet.”
“I’m up.” As if to prove his words, Sam rolled off his bed and immediately hunched down on the floor to grab his boots.
“I don’t know. I mean, if you’re sure you don’t want to just call Ryan....”
“I’m sure.” Sam stomped his right foot all the way down into his boot, then knelt to yank the laces tight. “I’m up, I’m sure, I’m going.”
“Great!” Dean shot him a bright smile. “Go to Twinky Pie's. You know, that hole in the wall we passed on route 10 on the way into town? I was there the other night. They’ve got awesome pie.” He dug his car keys out of his jacket pocket, and tossed them at Sam. “Blueberry’d be fine. Extra whipped cream. And don’t forget the coffee.”
Sam’s hand closed around the keys, and he looked at Dean in suspicion. “You’re a dick.”
“Yep. But I’m the dick who’s calling Sharpay. And you, my friend, are the dumbass who just got suckered into getting me some pie.” Smirking, Dean pulled open the door, and gestured out at the bright morning sunlight. “Run along.”
* * *
Dean waited until Sam grumbled his way all the way out the door and into the parking lot, and then waited until the Impala peeled out onto the road, for good measure. Then he dug out his cell phone and sat back on his bed, his expression turning utterly serious.
He flipped through his contacts and selected ‘ryns hot sis,’ then considered the number for a long moment before dialing.
The phone rang three times, and Dean was just starting to formulate some strategy for what he’d do if he couldn’t get ahold of either of the Evans siblings, when Sharpay answered. “This had better be Dean.”
Dean snorted a quick laugh. “Yeah, it is. Why?”
“Because I sure don’t want to talk to your idiot brother,” came the response. “You, on the other hand....”
“Me.” Dean nodded, mentally snickering at all the crap Sam had had to go through in the past week with just that one flippin’ family. “I didn’t interrupt your beauty sleep, did I?”
“Baby, beauty sleep is for ugly girls. I look this good all the time,” she answered, and this time Dean laughed out loud.
“Got it,” he said. He settled back against the headboard, and tried to summon up some pure calm, nothing to get anyone’s interest up. Move along, nothing to see here. “So, hey,” he began, “are you doing anything today?”
“I could be.” Dean could hear the sly smile in Sharpay’s voice, and he had to remind himself of his game plan. “But plans can change.”
“Ohh, right.” Dean thudded his head lightly against the wall. Celibacy was not a good look on him, he knew. Stupid case. “So, um. I guess you’re not doing that theater thing at the school today?”
There was a pause. “What?”
“The theater thing. Um, organizing... stuff, I guess. For the fall play, or something?” Dean winced, and silently cursed himself for not thinking ahead and coming up with something better.
“There’s no theater thing today,” Sharpay replied. “I would know. Ryan and I are co-presidents of the East High drama club.”
“Oh, sorry. My mistake,” Dean answered. “So, great. Talk to you soon, then!” He pulled the cell phone from his ear and was about to click off, but already he could hear the insect-sized squeak of Sharpay’s retort coming through. He sighed, and put the phone back to his ear. “Sorry, what? I couldn’t hear you.”
“I said, what the hell is going on?”
Dean blinked. “Huh? Nothing. Nothing’s going on,” he assured her. “I just got my dates mixed up, is all.”
“No.” Sharpay’s voice was all no-nonsense now, and Dean tried to ignore a sudden vision of her bossing someone around... while dressed in black leather and stilettos. “I mean what the hell is with you and Sam? Sam seems convinced that someone’s trying to hurt Ryan.”
Oh. Fuck. “...What?” Dean replied, and forced a chuckle. “God, no. Why would anyone want to hurt Ryan? I’m sure he was just exaggerating again.” He chuckled again. “That’s my brother Sammy. Drama drama drama all the time, you know? He just likes thinking everything’s so much more exciting than it really is, because then he can pretend he’s a superhero or some shit.” Dean waited stiffly, hoping Sharpay would take the bait.
No such luck. “That sounds really stupid,” she pointed out.
“Oh yeah, stupid as all-get-out. But you kinda gotta feel for the kid, you know?” Dean blundered on. “Living in his fantasy world, pretending evil lurks around every corner-“
“Dean,” Sharpay cut in. “I don’t believe you. Sam obviously really thinks Ryan’s in danger, and by the way? He’s freaking Ryan the hell out. So I want to know what the fuck is going on.” She paused, obviously expecting Dean to cough up some plausible explanation already.
Yeah, that’s not happening either. “Nothing. Nothing’s going on. Sam’s fine, he’s just kind of a nut. I mean, he’s my brother and I love him to pieces, but he’s got this hero complex, I’m telling you.” Dean rubbed his eyes, realizing that he was suddenly edging uncomfortably close to the actual truth. Which was a seriously bad idea all around. “And Ryan’s fine, and you’re fine, and you’re not going anywhere near your school this weekend, and that’s all well and good. So, great!” Dean paused to inhale a deep breath. “Good talking to you!”
“Wait! Dean, I want to know-“
But this time he went ahead and hung up.
To Chapter 26