Ficlet: Dashed Cunning (SPN)
I'm claiming this comment fic I wrote in spnpermanon because I'd like be a full participant in remix next year and I'm hardly ever inspired to write non-crossovers. It's a silly one-joke Plot.What.Plot? with bonus self!insertion in response to a nonnie who asked for it after I confessed my long held desire to scale Sam Winchester and plant a flag at the summit. Slightly expanded from the original.
Title: Dashed Cunning
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Genre: Gen-ish, with aspirations toward het (I can dream, yeah?)
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, OFC
Word Count: 130
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean and Supernatural belong to Kripke and the CW.
Summary: There's a really short girl at the door and she seems to have a plan.
Dean nodded at the girl and said, "Give us just a second, okay?" He struggled to keep a grin off his face as he partially shut the door and turned to his brother. "Uh, Sammy, there's some midget-chick here for you."
Sam sat up straighter on the bed. "Oh God! What does she want? Help reaching something?" Dean shook his head. "Help carrying something?" Dean shook his head again and Sam ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in desperation. "Tea?" he asked, his voice rising to a squeak, completely at the end of his rope.
Now Dean allowed himself to grin. "I'm thinking she's after something a little different. She's brought a flag."
Sam's face dropped. "Damn," he whimpered while Dean pulled the door back open.
Title: Dashed Cunning
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Genre: Gen-ish, with aspirations toward het (I can dream, yeah?)
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, OFC
Word Count: 130
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean and Supernatural belong to Kripke and the CW.
Summary: There's a really short girl at the door and she seems to have a plan.
Dean nodded at the girl and said, "Give us just a second, okay?" He struggled to keep a grin off his face as he partially shut the door and turned to his brother. "Uh, Sammy, there's some midget-chick here for you."
Sam sat up straighter on the bed. "Oh God! What does she want? Help reaching something?" Dean shook his head. "Help carrying something?" Dean shook his head again and Sam ran his hand through his hair, tugging at the strands in desperation. "Tea?" he asked, his voice rising to a squeak, completely at the end of his rope.
Now Dean allowed himself to grin. "I'm thinking she's after something a little different. She's brought a flag."
Sam's face dropped. "Damn," he whimpered while Dean pulled the door back open.