Fic: Treasures
Been a while since I posted fic, so... let's have random.
Title: Treasures
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize? So not mine.
Warnings: canon het romance, AU, fudging up of such a pesky thing as chronology and stuff, deliberate ignorance of reality... unbeta'ed
Characters/Pairings: John/Mary, Dean, Sammy
Rating: G?
Wordcount: ~410
Summary: Prompt; It could've been like this.
A/N: I never thought I'd end up writing A) John/Mary and B) baby!fic. On the other hand, I also never thought I'd have a dream with a giant Russell Crowe and mpreg!Dean (by Sam, though), so... *sigh*
It looks up at them with eyes as sad as only a dog's can be, projecting "please be my home?" from its wet, black nose to the tip of its swishing tail.
John's really not sure why they're here at the animal shelter, looking at animals of all shades and sizes. But there's a light in Mary's eyes, soft and gentle like she's finally forgotten her parents. She crouches to the mutt's level, playing with its floppy ears and talking to it like it's the most amazing thing ever. And the dog drinks it up like it's starved, dark eyes simple and happy.
It's love at first sight, even John can see it. What's more, it's mutual. Besides, he owes Mary for the car-thing.
When they leave, the mutt leaves with them.
Mary hasn't seemed happier after that horrible night John's still not really sure about; she told him as much as she told the police, but the shadows in her smile lingered long. Now, watching her with the dog, going over names (Argos, Huan, Cafall; Krypto, Lassie, Toto), following the dog... It feels as right as proposing did, as simple as being a mechanic.
A couple of days later, Mary stares off into the space while scratching the dog behind its ears and asks how John'd feel about calling the dog Dean. It's more of a rhetorical question, anyway.
It's easy to fall into the routine of going for a walk in the morning, of being prepared for a furry welcome, of waking up to the sound of an eager tail thumping on the floor. It's not all roses, sure, but... somehow it all fits together. Dean fits into their lives like he's always been there and, well. It's easier than John thought.
A couple of months later, Mary kisses him, afterwards, takes his hand and places it on her belly. She asks if he was planning anything big for next spring and he's too stupid and slow with sex to get what she's saying.
In the morning, his hand wanders over the soft curve of her breast, waist, cups the swell of her belly. Really, Mary? and it's her turn to take a moment to catch up. Then she looks at him with deep eyes, too old eyes and whispers Yes.
All he can do is kiss her, kiss her again and try not to crush her.
After that, even Dean's routines change a little.
Lawrence Humane Society is a real place. Couldn't resist. Wanna have a pet.
Title: Treasures
Disclaimer: Everything you recognize? So not mine.
Warnings: canon het romance, AU, fudging up of such a pesky thing as chronology and stuff, deliberate ignorance of reality... unbeta'ed
Characters/Pairings: John/Mary, Dean, Sammy
Rating: G?
Wordcount: ~410
Summary: Prompt; It could've been like this.
A/N: I never thought I'd end up writing A) John/Mary and B) baby!fic. On the other hand, I also never thought I'd have a dream with a giant Russell Crowe and mpreg!Dean (by Sam, though), so... *sigh*
It looks up at them with eyes as sad as only a dog's can be, projecting "please be my home?" from its wet, black nose to the tip of its swishing tail.
John's really not sure why they're here at the animal shelter, looking at animals of all shades and sizes. But there's a light in Mary's eyes, soft and gentle like she's finally forgotten her parents. She crouches to the mutt's level, playing with its floppy ears and talking to it like it's the most amazing thing ever. And the dog drinks it up like it's starved, dark eyes simple and happy.
It's love at first sight, even John can see it. What's more, it's mutual. Besides, he owes Mary for the car-thing.
When they leave, the mutt leaves with them.
Mary hasn't seemed happier after that horrible night John's still not really sure about; she told him as much as she told the police, but the shadows in her smile lingered long. Now, watching her with the dog, going over names (Argos, Huan, Cafall; Krypto, Lassie, Toto), following the dog... It feels as right as proposing did, as simple as being a mechanic.
A couple of days later, Mary stares off into the space while scratching the dog behind its ears and asks how John'd feel about calling the dog Dean. It's more of a rhetorical question, anyway.
It's easy to fall into the routine of going for a walk in the morning, of being prepared for a furry welcome, of waking up to the sound of an eager tail thumping on the floor. It's not all roses, sure, but... somehow it all fits together. Dean fits into their lives like he's always been there and, well. It's easier than John thought.
A couple of months later, Mary kisses him, afterwards, takes his hand and places it on her belly. She asks if he was planning anything big for next spring and he's too stupid and slow with sex to get what she's saying.
In the morning, his hand wanders over the soft curve of her breast, waist, cups the swell of her belly. Really, Mary? and it's her turn to take a moment to catch up. Then she looks at him with deep eyes, too old eyes and whispers Yes.
All he can do is kiss her, kiss her again and try not to crush her.
After that, even Dean's routines change a little.
Lawrence Humane Society is a real place. Couldn't resist. Wanna have a pet.