[Fic] Supernatural - Morning People - Gen
Title: Morning People
Author: Stolen Childe
Genre: Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean, Cas, Bobby
Rating: G
Warning: Not-a-songfic-songfic, spoilers for 5x21
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all characters associated with it do not belong to be. I’m just playing with them. Eric Kripke is the brilliant mind behind them.
Word Count: 360
Summary: Just a snippet from everyday life.
Notes: Alright, I was brushing my teeth and bits and pieces of dialogue were carousing through my mind... So I made them into a story. Enjoy!
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Morning People
...give the devil his due:/"I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul, 'cos I think I'm better than you."/The boy said: "My name's Johnny and it might be a sin,/"But I'll take your bet, you’re gonna regret, 'cos I'm the best that's ever been."
Sam groaned as he woke up to the sound of the Charlie Daniels’ Band blaring over the clock radio. He slammed it off and rolled out of bed.
“Eat me.” Sam glared at his brother.
“Aww... come on Sammy it’s like your own personal montage music, the kid wins in the end. ‘Sposed to get you all geared up for the big show down with Lucy,” Dean grinned.
“Shut it.” Sam just snapped again.
Cas made a rather un-angelic groan from where he was laid out on the lumpy motel couch, “Would you two be quiet. This vessel needs a surprising amount of rest and your spousal bickering in making that near impossible! It’s worse than listening to Handel’s: Messiah being performed by Celine Dion!”
That pop culture reference threw the brothers. They got the Messiah thing but...
“Really, Celine?” Dean asked the angel.
Sam blinked at his brother, “Dude, ‘Celine’?”
Dean looked decidedly uncomfortable and covered it by singing a few more lines from the Devil Went down to Georgia which caused Sam to literally growl and toss a pillow at his brother.
Cas huffed and rolled over, the couch making an awful squeak in the process.
Ever since Cas got his angel-juice sapped he was a bear to be around but the brothers shrugged it off. He’d get over it and would soon be his tripped out, perma-fried, orgy-having self that Dean met on his sojourn into the future... They hoped.
“Face it Cas, that ain’t no prom dress anymore. Jimmy’s body’s all yours, get used to it,” Dean replied.
“So what do you propose I do, return to James Novak's family, live with his vapid wife and overbearing daughter and pretend like everything is well?” Cas snarled, gave up on sleep entirely and got up off the couch.
“Nah... Just drink, smoke and sex. Fixes everything,” Dean grinned.
“Real nice Dean,” Sam rolled his eyes.
There was a bang on the motel door and Bobby’s voice bellowed through, “Up and at’em boys. Got a devil to cage!”
With a Cheshire grin Dean walked over and hit play on the clock radio.
“When I’m evil you’re the first one I’m sending to the pit,” Sam said flatly.
...Johnny you rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard./'Cos hells broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals the cards./And if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold./But if you lose, the devil gets your soul.
End
Author: Stolen Childe
Genre: Gen
Characters: Sam, Dean, Cas, Bobby
Rating: G
Warning: Not-a-songfic-songfic, spoilers for 5x21
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all characters associated with it do not belong to be. I’m just playing with them. Eric Kripke is the brilliant mind behind them.
Word Count: 360
Summary: Just a snippet from everyday life.
Notes: Alright, I was brushing my teeth and bits and pieces of dialogue were carousing through my mind... So I made them into a story. Enjoy!
XXXXXX
Morning People
...give the devil his due:/"I bet a fiddle of gold against your soul, 'cos I think I'm better than you."/The boy said: "My name's Johnny and it might be a sin,/"But I'll take your bet, you’re gonna regret, 'cos I'm the best that's ever been."
Sam groaned as he woke up to the sound of the Charlie Daniels’ Band blaring over the clock radio. He slammed it off and rolled out of bed.
“Eat me.” Sam glared at his brother.
“Aww... come on Sammy it’s like your own personal montage music, the kid wins in the end. ‘Sposed to get you all geared up for the big show down with Lucy,” Dean grinned.
“Shut it.” Sam just snapped again.
Cas made a rather un-angelic groan from where he was laid out on the lumpy motel couch, “Would you two be quiet. This vessel needs a surprising amount of rest and your spousal bickering in making that near impossible! It’s worse than listening to Handel’s: Messiah being performed by Celine Dion!”
That pop culture reference threw the brothers. They got the Messiah thing but...
“Really, Celine?” Dean asked the angel.
Sam blinked at his brother, “Dude, ‘Celine’?”
Dean looked decidedly uncomfortable and covered it by singing a few more lines from the Devil Went down to Georgia which caused Sam to literally growl and toss a pillow at his brother.
Cas huffed and rolled over, the couch making an awful squeak in the process.
Ever since Cas got his angel-juice sapped he was a bear to be around but the brothers shrugged it off. He’d get over it and would soon be his tripped out, perma-fried, orgy-having self that Dean met on his sojourn into the future... They hoped.
“Face it Cas, that ain’t no prom dress anymore. Jimmy’s body’s all yours, get used to it,” Dean replied.
“So what do you propose I do, return to James Novak's family, live with his vapid wife and overbearing daughter and pretend like everything is well?” Cas snarled, gave up on sleep entirely and got up off the couch.
“Nah... Just drink, smoke and sex. Fixes everything,” Dean grinned.
“Real nice Dean,” Sam rolled his eyes.
There was a bang on the motel door and Bobby’s voice bellowed through, “Up and at’em boys. Got a devil to cage!”
With a Cheshire grin Dean walked over and hit play on the clock radio.
“When I’m evil you’re the first one I’m sending to the pit,” Sam said flatly.
...Johnny you rosin up your bow and play your fiddle hard./'Cos hells broke loose in Georgia and the devil deals the cards./And if you win you get this shiny fiddle made of gold./But if you lose, the devil gets your soul.
End