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apocalypsosTitle: Where The Wild Things Are
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: Supernatural/Surprise crossover
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 950 words
Pairing: None
Spoilers for: "Hell House", although nothing specific
Warnings: Bad language
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just like playing with them.
Summary: The Winchesters might want to start checking references from now on before they start whipping out those guns.
Author's note: There is some egregious screwing with timelines in this story, if you can even manage to scrape together clues from the crossover fandom to get a specific time it's set during. But luckily, it's just vague enough about that for me to fuck with royally. ;)
*****
Where The Wild Things Are
*****
So there's this road house, right? Middle of nowhere, sawdust and peanut shells on the floor, really twangy country shit playing on the jukebox. You know that place in Lubbock where we went to after we fought the ghost of that hangman? Like that.
You mean that dive where you nearly got beat up by that crazy little ninety-pound girl who said she was a vampire slayer?
Shut it, Sammy, I'm telling a story here.
Anyway, so I've been in this road house for a good half hour already, winding down after a job. Some black magic thing, this witch making all the men in town fall in love with her. Nothing major, no harm, no foul, not even a freakin' scar to show for my effort. And I'm sitting at this table in the corner scouting out a good pool game, so admittedly I'm a little out of it.
And then this hot little brunette pops up out of nowhere and says, "Boo!", and I'm so distracted when she does it that she scares the hell out of me and I nearly drop my fucking glass in my lap.
Tell me that's not how you got the scar.
Patience, college boy. My stories get more interesting the less you talk.
All right, so I keep from spilling the glass in my lap, thank God, and while I'm trying not to look like a total jackass in front of her, she leans up against the table next to me and looks down at me with these big pretty brown eyes like she's planning something. So I say, "You always sneak up on people like that?"
And she shrugs with this little mischievous smile on her face and says, "I make more friends that way." Then she leans closer, and she's this tiny little thing but damned if she doesn't look like she's afraid of anything 'cept being oveheard. "Speaking of which," she says, "I hear you're the man to talk to if I've got a big, bad monster in my closet."
I guess I should have been a little suspicious right off the bat --
A little?
-- but she was just so hot, all I could think to do was grin like an idiot and tell her, "You bet your ass I am, sweetheart."
And that's when she punched me in the face.
And you were surprised?
She punched me in the face, dude. Yeah, I was a little shocked, all right?
I end up on the floor grabbing onto my jaw and admiring the hell out of her right hook, and everybody in the place is hooting and hollering like they're watching a boxing match or something. Not that I blame them. I mean, hell, if I'd been watching, I would have been cheering for her, too. As it was, all I could do was lie there and watch her shake it off.
You're kidding, right?
A hot girl gave me a hell of a punch, Sam. I didn't know whether to punch back, walk out, or grab her and kiss her.
I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you picked that second option.
Hell, no. First thing I did was get to my feet and say, "What the hell did you do that for?"
So she gives me a good hard shove and says, "Because you shot my best friend, you jerk!" And then she rears back like she's about to punch me again, then makes this pissed-off face like she thought better of it and stalks out of the bar.
Tell me you didn't follow her.
Well, what the hell do you think I did? She punched me and told me I shot her best friend. I had to defend my honor.
What honor?
... bite me.
Anyway, I follow her out to the parking lot, and she's getting in this shiny red sports car, so before she can leave, I call out, "I didn't shoot anybody!" Anywhere else, I couldn't have gotten away with yelling that out in the street, but in front of that place, I was just bringing my reputation down a notch with the customers.
She's got her window rolled down, and when she hears me, she says, "Look, I heard there was a Winchester in town, and I just wanted to give you a warning." She starts the car -- and this godawful teenybopper shit comes on the radio so loud I could feel it in my bones, man, I swear -- and then she flashes those big pretty eyes at me again and says, "The next time a big furry blue monster comes out of a closet, try not to shoot him."
And then she drives off and her tires throw up this spray of gravel, and one of them dinged me right in the forehead, and that's how I got the scar.
... a big blue furry monster?
That's what she said, dude. That warns me off, what, a good ten percent of our jobs? Not to mention what happens if we ever get called in to put down the Cookie Monster for rabies.
Uh, Dean?
Yeah, what?
You know that time Dad gave me the .45 when I was nine?
Yeah?
Did I ever mention that I used it?
... I kind of hate you right now, Sammy.
I think that's fair.
*****
Author's note the second: Yeah, I wrote a Monsters Inc. crossover for this fandom. What of it? *giggles* In the end of the movie, Boo's got a Woody doll and a Nemo toy because of Pixar and their in-jokes, so theoretically she's still a little kid, but no ruining my happy fic crossover dreams, damn it. ;P
Author: Troll Princess
Fandom: Supernatural/Surprise crossover
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 950 words
Pairing: None
Spoilers for: "Hell House", although nothing specific
Warnings: Bad language
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters, I just like playing with them.
Summary: The Winchesters might want to start checking references from now on before they start whipping out those guns.
Author's note: There is some egregious screwing with timelines in this story, if you can even manage to scrape together clues from the crossover fandom to get a specific time it's set during. But luckily, it's just vague enough about that for me to fuck with royally. ;)
Where The Wild Things Are
*****
So there's this road house, right? Middle of nowhere, sawdust and peanut shells on the floor, really twangy country shit playing on the jukebox. You know that place in Lubbock where we went to after we fought the ghost of that hangman? Like that.
You mean that dive where you nearly got beat up by that crazy little ninety-pound girl who said she was a vampire slayer?
Shut it, Sammy, I'm telling a story here.
Anyway, so I've been in this road house for a good half hour already, winding down after a job. Some black magic thing, this witch making all the men in town fall in love with her. Nothing major, no harm, no foul, not even a freakin' scar to show for my effort. And I'm sitting at this table in the corner scouting out a good pool game, so admittedly I'm a little out of it.
And then this hot little brunette pops up out of nowhere and says, "Boo!", and I'm so distracted when she does it that she scares the hell out of me and I nearly drop my fucking glass in my lap.
Tell me that's not how you got the scar.
Patience, college boy. My stories get more interesting the less you talk.
All right, so I keep from spilling the glass in my lap, thank God, and while I'm trying not to look like a total jackass in front of her, she leans up against the table next to me and looks down at me with these big pretty brown eyes like she's planning something. So I say, "You always sneak up on people like that?"
And she shrugs with this little mischievous smile on her face and says, "I make more friends that way." Then she leans closer, and she's this tiny little thing but damned if she doesn't look like she's afraid of anything 'cept being oveheard. "Speaking of which," she says, "I hear you're the man to talk to if I've got a big, bad monster in my closet."
I guess I should have been a little suspicious right off the bat --
A little?
-- but she was just so hot, all I could think to do was grin like an idiot and tell her, "You bet your ass I am, sweetheart."
And that's when she punched me in the face.
And you were surprised?
She punched me in the face, dude. Yeah, I was a little shocked, all right?
I end up on the floor grabbing onto my jaw and admiring the hell out of her right hook, and everybody in the place is hooting and hollering like they're watching a boxing match or something. Not that I blame them. I mean, hell, if I'd been watching, I would have been cheering for her, too. As it was, all I could do was lie there and watch her shake it off.
You're kidding, right?
A hot girl gave me a hell of a punch, Sam. I didn't know whether to punch back, walk out, or grab her and kiss her.
I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume you picked that second option.
Hell, no. First thing I did was get to my feet and say, "What the hell did you do that for?"
So she gives me a good hard shove and says, "Because you shot my best friend, you jerk!" And then she rears back like she's about to punch me again, then makes this pissed-off face like she thought better of it and stalks out of the bar.
Tell me you didn't follow her.
Well, what the hell do you think I did? She punched me and told me I shot her best friend. I had to defend my honor.
What honor?
... bite me.
Anyway, I follow her out to the parking lot, and she's getting in this shiny red sports car, so before she can leave, I call out, "I didn't shoot anybody!" Anywhere else, I couldn't have gotten away with yelling that out in the street, but in front of that place, I was just bringing my reputation down a notch with the customers.
She's got her window rolled down, and when she hears me, she says, "Look, I heard there was a Winchester in town, and I just wanted to give you a warning." She starts the car -- and this godawful teenybopper shit comes on the radio so loud I could feel it in my bones, man, I swear -- and then she flashes those big pretty eyes at me again and says, "The next time a big furry blue monster comes out of a closet, try not to shoot him."
And then she drives off and her tires throw up this spray of gravel, and one of them dinged me right in the forehead, and that's how I got the scar.
... a big blue furry monster?
That's what she said, dude. That warns me off, what, a good ten percent of our jobs? Not to mention what happens if we ever get called in to put down the Cookie Monster for rabies.
Uh, Dean?
Yeah, what?
You know that time Dad gave me the .45 when I was nine?
Yeah?
Did I ever mention that I used it?
... I kind of hate you right now, Sammy.
I think that's fair.
*****
Author's note the second: Yeah, I wrote a Monsters Inc. crossover for this fandom. What of it? *giggles* In the end of the movie, Boo's got a Woody doll and a Nemo toy because of Pixar and their in-jokes, so theoretically she's still a little kid, but no ruining my happy fic crossover dreams, damn it. ;P
