Winchester Fun: The Bet Chapter 9
by Woman of Letters
Disclaimer: Supernatural and its characters belong to Kripke and company. I am making no money off of this. All original characters that I created for this story belong to me.
Previous Chapters: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]
Chapter 9: Snark Gets His
Harry O'Shaunassy, owner, manager, let-you-sob-on-his-shoulder bartender, resident tall tale teller and de facto father figure at O'Shaunassy's Watering Hole, led the troop of siblings, one pissed-off but resigned dad, and a sniveling Snark to the pool table. He smiled and his brown eyes twinkled; it wasn't often he actually got to hold court at the bar.
Molly O'Shaunassy, walking alongside her husband, got to the pool table first. She gave a gasp of horror. The mob that followed her leaned over her shoulder, from her reaction expecting to see the table broken, perhaps with a large tear in the top covering.
Instead, they saw a small crack in the edging by the side rail, where Sam and Sarah had fallen against it. One of the cue sticks was laying on the table, and some of the balls were lying on the floor, scattered.
"Molly, love," Harry put his arms around her. "It isn't too bad, is't? Just a cracked rim. Why, we could still use it for a game later this evening. From the sounds of tha' crash, I expected worse."
Molly ran her hands over the edging that had cracked, almost tenderly. There was an edge in her voice as she whispered, "Mi poor babe... Mi wee bairn..."
"Did she just call the pool table her baby?" Dean asked. "I mean, it's just a pool table."
"Yeah," Sam snickered, "like the Impala is just a car."
"Shut your trap," said Dean. "The Impala is..." He was at a loss for words. "Come on, this is just a pool table."
Beth elbowed Dean. "Shh, you two," she said, "You don't ever make fun of that pool table in front of Molly. She put her blood, sweat and tears into it."
Harry was rubbing his wife's shoulders soothingly. "C'mon, Mol, we've fixed worse'n this. It won't take that much to get some replacement edging and glue it in. And look, the crack is only on the outer edge of the side rail, not on the inner side. We can still play!"
Molly's shoulders stiffened and she glared at her husband. "Ye mean I've fixed worse than this..." She turned around and glared at the others. "What I want t'know is, who's responsible? Who harmed my baby? I'll tear him limb from limb."
"Now, Molly," said Harry. "Come on..."
Dean whispered to Sam, "Come on, I don't get all psycho like that over Baby..."
Sam whispered back, "Remember when I spilled some soda on Baby's back seat? I distinctly remember you threatening to murder me?"
"That was different," Dean whispered. "Those seats are real leather, they don't make 'em like that anymore... Besides, you knew I wouldn't actually kill you," said Dean, shaking his head at Sam. "Maybe break a few bones," he added under his breath as he turned back to watch Molly continue her inspection of the pool table.
In putting his arms around his wife, Harry all but forgot about Snark, who was slipping away again, until John collared him.
"Come back here," he snapped. "Harry... I think we need to move things along."
"Right... Well, ye lot," said Harry, "Pull up some chairs from the side there and gather round th' table."
He pulled Snark aside. "I understand ye have some money that we're not sure belongs to you," he said. "Please hand it over."
Snark protested. "It's mine, fairly won."
"That may be so, but we've yet to determine that," said Harry. He folded his arms and looked thunderously at Snark. "When we've cleared ye of the charge - if yur cleared - you'll be free t' take yur winnings and go home."
By now, everyone else had taken seats, sitting in a semi-circle around the pool table. Someone pulled up a seat for Harry and moved it right in front of the table. He nodded his head. "Thanks." He turned to Snark. "Well, Mr., you can get yourself a seat as well, once ye hand over the money."
Snark sighed. Everyone in the circle was looking at him, and he didn't see how he could get away. He handed over the money, grabbed a seat from the corner, and deliberately moved his chair at least two feet away from Sarah, who was sitting at the far edge of the crowd.
"My wife asked who was responsible f'r th' damage t' the table. I'm not goin' t' tear the culprit limb from limb, but I'd like to know what happened here."
Sam, Sarah, Dean and Beth all started to speak at once. Their words ran right into each other and none of the company could hear what any of them were saying.
"One at a time," said Harry. "You first... Sam, isn't it?"
"Well," Sam said, "It was my fault. I've always been a bit of a klutz and I didn't see where I was going. I banged right into Sarah, and smashed into the pool table."
"Oh, nonsense!" said Sarah, sounding rather irked. "A klutz wouldn't have been able to run after Snark here and catch him! Besides... it was my sister who was chasing you and that's the only reason you banged into me."
Molly was watching the two of them and listening closely. Her forehead, which had been furrowed with anger before, had begun to soften.
Next to Molly, near Harry, John was sitting impassively. His face was a complete mask. Not even Dean could see the inner struggle the man was having not to smile. He could remember Sam, as a kid, still growing into his height, running into things, routinely overturning things like lamps on the motel room coffee tables or water pitchers left out on the table. No wonder they had left him at the libraries to research; it was far safer for all of them.
Sam was oblivious to his dad's conflict, too caught up in what Sarah was saying. "Snark?" asked Sam quizzically. He looked over at the weasel-faced thief he'd been chasing. "Your name is Snark?"
"It most certainly is not!" huffed the man, whose skin seemed to have become a rather unattractive, blotchy red. "My name's Rufus McInty, and that... lady," he said with a sneer, nodding at Sarah, "is a bitch!"
"Why you..." Sam stood up but Beth was ahead of him. She leapt up and walked across the circle to Snark. She grabbed him by his shirt front and pulled him up so that her face was right in his. "My sister invents nicknames for everybody, and in this case, she was way too kind! She would have done better with putz!"
"How about douchebag?" said Sam.
"Schmuck?" quipped Dean.
Molly was looking wildly between the three of them and Snark. Her eyes had begun to sparkle again and her mouth was turning up in a grin. "Gobshite would be more like it," she said.
"Molly!" Harry sounded horrified. He stood up, hands on his hips. "Everybody, sit down and shut up, and Beth, quit manhandlin' the man." He glared at them. "I'll have ye be civil t' one another, even if ye don't like each other!"
Beth dropped Snark back in his chair, who smoothed down his shirt front and humphed, a note of triumph in his voice. He smiled gleefully.
"That includes ye too, Mr. McGinty. The word ye used does not belong here."
Harry continued. "So if I'm t'understand this, Sam crashed into Sarah and the table cause he was runnin' from Fran?"
"Fran was chasing him," said Sarah.
"And why were you chasin' him, Fran?"
Fran hiccuped. "He came on to me... 'n who cud resist him, the... big honey bear?"
Dean smirked. "Big Honey bear, huh?"
"Shut up," said Sam. He was turning red again. "Or maybe should I call you the panty man?"
Dean paled, his mouth gaping open. He seemed unable to close it. How did he know?
"So really it was Fran's fault. But Fran was drunk so it's the... beer's fault?" Harry sounded bemused.
"That's it, Harry, we should make you pay for the repairs," said Molly. She started to laugh, and the lilt in her words got deeper. "Th' faults in the brew! Down with O'Shaunassy's best."
"Well, actually," Dean cleared his throat. "It was all my fault, really."
"Your fault? What did you have to do with it?" asked Chloe.
"I'm the one who put Sam up to all of this," he waved his hand at the bar. "I knew he needed to relax... I'm the one who brought him here. And if the big honey bear hadn't turned his killer smile on Fran..."
Sam's face was now almost a deep maroon. "Pink, satin panties, Dean... You know you want 'em."
Sarah rolled her eyes. "My God, do you two ever stop?"
"No," Sam and Dean said in unison. Then the corners of their mouths twitched and the two of them started to laugh.
At this point, Molly could not keep quiet. Her shoulders began shaking, her grey-brown hair bobbing up and down. There were tears in her eyes. She sat and laughed, big, loud guffaws that echoed through the bar and caused the patrons throughout to look in their direction curiously.
This caused Sam and Dean to break up even more. It was as if the boys were making up for all the piled-up tension, for the nightly fights between Sam and John, for the nerves frayed by endless hunts and bleak hotel rooms. The laughter rolled back and forth between the two of them, and between Molly. Soon everyone found themselves joining in. The only one who was not affected at all was John, who sat somewhat stiffly, as if he couldn't quite let himself go, and Snark, who looked as if he were eating rotten fish.
When the group had gotten the laughter under control, and she could finally speak again, Beth shook her head. "Dean, you don't have to take responsibility for my sister's actions." She looked at Harry. "Whatever the damage is, we'll pay."
Sam said, "No, I'll pay. After all, I'm the one who crashed into Sarah and caused the damage."
A flicker of surprise flashed in John's eyes, briefly. Maybe the boy was starting to learn some responsibility, he thought. He cleared his throat. "No," he said, "I'll pay. Sam's my son, and it was an accident, but we Winchesters clean up after ourselves."
"Tha's kind of ye, John," said Harry. "But really, there's no need. Th' damage is slight, and it's been established tha' what happened here was really a series of freak accidents." He smiled. "Besides which, yon lot brought a smile to mi Molly's face. That's worth everythin' t' me."
"That's great, man," whined Snark, "but I've been waiting here through all your craziness, and I'd like to leave with my money. Can we get on with this?"
"You mean my money," said Sarah.
"Okay," said Harry, "Let's talk about th' pool game. What happened there?"
"Hey," said Snark, in a whiny voice, "Her pool cue scraped the table. That's a foul and an automatic win for me."
"Now wait a minute," said Sarah, "even if the pool cue scraped the table, at most that's a foul, not an automatic win. Then the turn would go to Sn... him and the game would go on."
"Well, th' balls bouncing off the table be another foul, besides," said Harry, "and maybe the game is over because the position of the balls ha' been lost. But the question o' whether the game goes t' him because twas her move tha' caused it..."
"That's not fair," said Sam. "The game wouldn't have been upset if I hadn't crashed into her. Isn't that outside interference?" He turned to his father. "Dad, is he right? He can't just take the money, can he?"
His father looked thoughtful. "I don't know, son."
"But if there was outside interference," Dean pointed out, "they might just call for a rematch."
"That's fair," said Chloe. She turned to Snark. "You should play a second game to decide."
"Or," said her twin, "since the game was ruined, you could split the money fifty-fifty."
"I refuse!" shouted Snark. "I don't do rematches with women." There was a sneer in his voice on the word "women". "And I won't split the money," he said. "I would have won it in the next turn." He sent a nasty look Sarah's way.
"Now wait a minute, you creep!" Sarah said, "I was about to win the game. By rights, I should get all of the money."
"Besides which," said Harry, "if ye honestly won that money, why did ye try to run away?"
"Twice!" said Dean.
Sam looked furious. "If you won't play a rematch with Sarah, play it with me. Since I was the one that interrupted your game, I claim the right."
Dean looked at his brother. Damned if his brother didn't remind him of the upstart musketeer wanna-be from that pansy Disney movie Sam had made him watch... what was his name? Right... D'art... something or other.
Sarah stood up, fists clenched. "Now wait a minute!" she said, "Really, Sam, I appreciate the chivalry but I can defend myself." She stared at Snark nastily. "Or are you afraid to play a woman?"
"I'm not afraid! Bring it on, babe..." Snark said with a sneer.
"Well, it looks like this is settled, then," said Harry, "The winner will get the full $100... unless Sn.. McGinty here backs out now, in which case it's split 50/50. This is your last chance, Rufus. What will it be?" What an unpleasant man, he thought.
"I won't back down," said Snark.
Everyone settled in to watch the pool game, even John, who was, by the time, too curious to see who would win. Fran was slumped down in one of the chairs sipping a glass of water that Dean had gotten her. ("No scotch for you," he said.) He was sitting in a chair next to Beth, talking quietly.
Sam was standing behind Sarah, watching, as she made the breaking shot. From the first, he could see she was a masterful player. Really, he thought, there was no contest. He liked watching her as she concentrated on the ball, called her shots, and sent her balls spinning in the proper angles, pocketing them one, sometimes two, at a time. She was already on her third successful shot when he got impatient. This wasn't where he wanted to be; maybe he could speed the process up.
"Hey Snarky," he said, "You look a little nervous. Afraid you'll lose?"
And the guy really was nervous. He was tapping his fingers against the pool table. There was sweat on his forehead.
"Of course not," Snark said. "And the name's McGinty."
"Right... well, you picked the wrong lady to steal from," Sam said. "She's a master... Hey, Sarah!"
"Hmm?" she looked up.
"How about the Loop de Loop shot on the 6 ball in the right corner pocket?" He pushed his hair off his forehead and he looked at her seriously but his brown eyes were twinkling.
What the... she thought until she saw Snark nervously examining the board. Why not? she thought. "Hmm... " she studied the board seriously. "You mean where you have the 6 ball hitting off the green stripe over there, then the blue stripe over there, kind of looping around the 3 until it hits the corner pocket?"
"Yeah..." said Sam.
"Now hold on," whined Snark. "That's not even..."
"Possible, but I think the Crazy Nine might work better here."
"What are you two talking about?" The conversation was driving Snark crazy. It was bad enough he was playing the bitch again, but to have to listen to this complete garbage? "Tell them to stop this!" he demanded to Harry.
"It's a free country," he said. "They're just talking."
"But he's helping her!" argued Snark.
"Too much chance of you hitting the eight-ball in that pocket. Look how close the nine is to the eight. How about the Zig-Zag Zoomer?" asked Sam.
"I don't know," admitted Sarah. "There are so many shots here that I could take, Sam, it's hard to decide."
"I don't think any of these shots even exist!" yelled Snark.
"Prove it," said Sam.
"I've had enough," said Snark. "You're all cheaters. You can have the money - waste someone else's time!"
He threw down his cue stick and stalked away.
The McLaughlin women cheered.
"Well, good riddance to bad garbage!" said Harry.
Dean looked at Sam. "Zig-Zag Zoomer?"
John laughed. "Crazy Nine?"
Sam shrugged. "Maybe we just know some exotic pool moves."
"Son, I've been playing pool for years now, and I've never heard of the Crazy Nine."
"Hey, what a man doesn't know..." Sam began.
"Can always hurt him," finished John.
"Rule number 54," said Dean. "You called it right, Dad."
Chloe looked at the three Winchesters. "Rule number 54?"
Beth sighed. "I'm afraid to ask."
"It's hard to explain," said Dean. "Let's just say it's a page from Dad's rulebook."
"And now," said Sam, "The lady gets her winnings." He looked at Harry. "May I?"
Harry took the $100 out of his pocket and gave it to Sam. "Here, son, I think you've earned the privelige."
"Here you go, my lady," said Sam, a silly grin plastered across his face. "I believe this money is yours." He handed the $100 to Sarah.
"Thank you, kind sir," she curtsied and laughed, slipping the money into her pocket. "You know, I was going to win. You didn't have to do that."
"Oh, I know," said Sam, "We all knew. But I figured, Snark's been playing pool with you all night. Why should he have all the fun?"
He looked at her, his chocolate brown eyes pleading for her acquiescence. "After all," he said, "wouldn't you rather play with me?"
She smiled. "Who could say no to those eyes?" she said. She handed him a cue stick. "Come on, let's shoot to see who gets the break shot."
X X X X
Read Chapter 10: Tough Love