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15 January 2010 @ 05:32 pm
Supernatural Fic: The Best Gifts  
Posted to supernaturalfic


Title: The Best Gifts
Pairing/Characters: Dean, Sam, Bobby
Rating: PG13
Spoilers: 1x01-3x08
Summary: Dean and Sam exchange one more gift (A Very Supernatural Christmas Post-Ep)
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ


"You ready to roll?"

Dean tossed his road worn duffle in the trunk of the Impala and closed the lid with a firm yet not too forceful push, metal meeting solid Detroit steel with a satisfying clunk as he took one last look around at the not so sleepy burg he'd spent his final Christmas in.

The garish middle class suburban decorations were still up, but a few of the more industrious townspeople already had their Christmas trees out at the curb for trash day, tiny streamers of tinsel catching the morning sun as the rapidly cooling winter breeze attempted to separate them from the evergreen partners they clung tightly to.

The quiet rustling of leaves and trash blowing by was disrupted by a louder rustling behind him. He turned to find Sam rummaging through a Wal-mart plastic bag, holding his injured finger off to the side as his good hand dove down to the bottom.

"Need a hand, Sammy?" he asked with a smirk.

"No, I got it," Sam mumbled, finally taking a brown paper bag out of the plastic one and putting it between his teeth to make more room in the bag to search.

Rolling his eyes, Dean stepped forward and snatched the bag out of Sam's mouth. "At least I trained you well enough not to put crap on the paint job."

Sam shrugged bashfully just before his frustrated expression gave way as he successfully located the item he'd been seeking. He produced something small and white, palming it in his hand before putting the bag on the ground.

"That's for you anyway," he said, gesturing to the bag in Dean's hand. "Sorry it's late, but it took a while to find one at all."

"So your Wal-mart trip wasn't to get razors to go with your snazzy new shaving cream?" Dean asked, arching an eyebrow.

"Actually it was, but it also gave me time to run over to one of the stores I had called before while you were in the shower. The store didn't have what I wanted when I first called them, but the owner knew someone who did and he managed to sweet talk the guy into giving it up from his collection."

"You found me Busty Babes of the Bayou?" Dean taunted with a mocking laugh. "Been looking for that special issue for years."

Sam let out the same put upon sigh that had become second nature to him in the years since Dean had shown up on his doorstep in California.

"Dude," he started only to cut himself off, biting back the barb on the tip of his tongue with a shake of his head. "Just open the bag."

Dean opened up the bag and pulled out a matchbox sized die-cast car - small and black, with a familiar shape - mounted on a stand.

"Holy shit..." he muttered, blinking in disbelief at the collector's item in his palm. "It's an Impala."

"Not quite the right year." Sam shuffled over, head ducked down in a sort of apologetic stance. "But it's close! 1966. It's a two door model though. I guess they didn't make any in the four door version. But hey! It's black!"

"Back in black," Dean said, nodding his approval. "Well, I'll be damned. Thank you, Sammy," he said, his tone as heavy with affection as Sam had ever heard it.

"I know you're really protective of your baby," Sam said, holding out his hand to reveal the item he'd palmed earlier. "But in case you wanted to mount it on the dashboard, this is a special kind of adhesive pad that they swear leaves no marks when you take it off."

Dean eyed it suspiciously as he took it and read the packaging. "We'll have to test it somewhere you can't see first," he warned. "Can't be risking ruining the dash."

"Of course," Sam said quickly, gesturing his approval awkwardly. "Wouldn't dream of it."

Dean turned his focus back to the little car in his hand, examining it closely before turning to his car behind him.

"What do you say, sweetheart? You're famous!"

-

"I thought we were going to Springfield next."

"Got to swing through Nebraska first, pick up some supplies at Bobby's."

"What supplies? We've got everything we need: plenty of rock salt, shotgun shells, holy water..."

"Other stuff," Dean said, flashing his trademark charming grin at Sam. "Don't get your panties in a bunch. We're not staying long."

The rest of the drive was quiet save Dean's trademark rock music pouring from the speakers.

Bobby was on the phone when they sauntered in, nodding his greeting to them and gesturing to the kitchen as shorthand for helping themselves.

Once Sam headed into the kitchen for a drink Bobby pulled a box out from under his desk and handed it over to Dean.

It had already been opened; Dean had made him check it when it arrived to make sure it was exactly what he ordered. He didn't risk online purchases much, given their credit card history, so he'd given Bobby the cash in advance and had him order it since it was coming to his address - the only stable address he knew he could rely on.

As he looked in the box, he found that it was indeed exactly what he'd hoped for. Excellent quality, the right color and it felt solid in his hand, like it would last a lifetime.

Carrying it into the kitchen, he put the box on the counter beside where Sam pulling out the bottle opener for his beer bottle.

"I got you a little something extra too," Dean told him, cocking his head towards the box. "Something that will last."

Sam's forehead creased in confusion for a second, but it faded quickly, replaced by his brother's pleased grin.

"What, a new set of wrenches to work on the car?" he teased. The smile faded away as he reached in the box and pulled out a leather bound journal, near identical to their father's, just in a different shade of tan leather and larger - the size that could handle a full sheet of paper inside. "Dean…"

"I know Dad was more of a handwritten guy, so I got you a size you can put computer printouts and xerox copies in. It's got a three hole punch built in so you can file stuff away pretty easy."

Sam ran his hand over it with a sort of reverence. "I don't know what to say."

"Well, we've been reading Dad's journal for years. It's about time one of us started documenting what we know, not just relying on his experience."

Sam abruptly pulled his brother into a hug and for once Dean allowed it, closing his eyes for a second to relish the familial affection that was so rare and so precious before they broke apart in their bid to reestablish their manly status. They both looked away the requisite amount of time and Dean cleared his throat, the signal that they'd successfully moved past their chick flick moment.

"We're going to work on this together," Sam stressed. "I've already got some roughly organized stuff on my laptop…"

"You two done yapping in my kitchen?" Bobby said with a grin, appearing in the doorway. "'Cause you ain't opened your Christmas presents from me yet and they're looking pretty lonely, what with everybody else's gone already."

"Yours is still in the car," Sam told him. "I need to go get my bag."

"I'll get it," Dean offered. "My present for Bobby's in the car too."

He headed out the front door, listening to the two of them behind him.

"Beer? Why would you want beer when there's eggnog! With good rum!"

"Good rum, as in not supermarket generic rum?"

He chuckled as he went out to open up the trunk. He pulled out his and Sam's duffle bags, putting them on the ground as he closed the trunk.

Pausing, he pulled the miniature car out of his pocket and held it up to compare it to his own Impala, smiling at the resemblance.

Opening the driver's side door, he placed the car on the stand in the middle of the dash, trying out the location. It looked perfect there - almost like it belonged.

"Merry Christmas, baby," he said, a pleased smirk on his face.

Locking up the car, he shouldered both bags and started whistling to himself as he mounted the porch steps.

Family, presents and eggnog with rum awaited.

The good fight could last one day without them.

He'd earned this.

~
 
 
 
blubird_pie: jensen is tired of this shitblubird_pie on February 21st, 2010 01:50 am (UTC)
Oh, drama! (This is my drama icon, btw) I must just be lucky- I went and posted a meta that could have been a real wank magnet, and things stayed pretty civl. SPN is the only fandom I write for, but I'm not even close to 40 fics, and probably never will be. I have less than 10 and I already feel like I've used my best Ideas, haha. 600 fics = mind BLOWN.

Anyways, I wouldn't want you to feel like you owe me anything for commenting, but of course it's nice to get read ;)
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on February 21st, 2010 01:56 am (UTC)
Not owe, per se, but you're nice and you're clearly good at expressing yourself and those tend to make for good fic and I'm all for good fic. /grins/

Yes, that's an awesome icon! Dean would so not tolerate wank. LOL I avoid meta, but I still wind up pissing people off because of how they interpret what I say - assuming the worst when there's a far simpler explanation without any malice. /sigh/ Ah, well. As you can see from the 600 (I'm scary prolific) I keep myself plenty busy in my main fandom so SPN can just be over there and I'll stay over here quite happily. LOL

I write 21 fandoms now (not counting Buffy and Angel crossovers) so there's always other fandoms that appreciate my fic far more than SPN ever will. Me, I just like the show and like to write it. So as long as I write and avoid the fandom otherwise? I'm cool.
blubird_pieblubird_pie on February 21st, 2010 02:15 am (UTC)
Haha, well thank you. Though I think that plenty of authors are unpersonable shits tbh. Hemingway? More of a dick than Uriel, I'm sure.

And again, I'm impressed– 21?! I enjoy a couple other shows, but I don't think I'd be capable of writing fic for most of 'em. SPN just happens to be well enough written that I love watching it and playing in the sandbox...but not so perfectly crafted that I feel weird about my skillz as a writer ;)
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on February 21st, 2010 02:20 am (UTC)
I'd been mono-fannish all my life until SPN came along and I was sure I'd be monofannish when I got in Numb3rs, but lo and behold - SPN fic came out of my pen and after that adding fandoms came much easier. Dialogue is one of my strong suits and I enjoy playing with character voices. Doing lots of fandoms just gives me lots of variety in the voices I can play with. (I tend to like fandoms that do banter well since banter is really fun to write.)

You've got a good point about SPN. It is written well enough to inspire, but not so well that people can't come up with reasonably canon compliant plots of their own that stand well in comparison.

I tend to clash with comm mods FWIW. Apparently people aren't capable of dealing in a civil manner when they feel someone is making a comment about their comm not being absolutely perfect. /shrugs/
blubird_pieblubird_pie on February 21st, 2010 02:24 am (UTC)
Hmm, yeah most of my fandom experience is journal-to-journal; I'm part of a few comms, but so far mostly just going along for the ride.

Dialogue and banter are things I love in fic, but I don't find them very easy to write. I think that's another reason why so far I've only done SPN- only a couple characters to really worry about getting down!
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on February 21st, 2010 02:29 am (UTC)
Still, Bobby and Ellen in particular have great character voices to try to capture. It's very rewarding to nail them in a fic. My Bobby is okay, but I do a pretty decent Ellen. Castiel's a bit tougher, but writing an angel's a pretty unique challenge IMHO. Dean and Sam? Their brotherly banter is always FTW.
blubird_pie: annablubird_pie on February 21st, 2010 02:44 am (UTC)
Ah Castiel. I like him on Show, but I just can't fic him for the life of me.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on February 21st, 2010 03:05 am (UTC)
Don't feel too bad. He is rather elusive to all of us.