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ultraviolet9a>> Encounter
TITLE: Encounter
AUTHOR: ultraviolet9a
SPOILER: Basically for the Tall Tales gig.
ultraviolet9aSPOILER: Basically for the Tall Tales gig.
GENRE: Gen. Crack(ish). God help me.
CHARACTERS: Dean and Sam Winchester
SUMMARY: A spaceship parks right next to the Impala. (What? It could happen.)
RATING: PG-13
FEEDBACK: Dude…duh.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, still. Ah. Well.
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, still. Ah. Well.
NOTE: This is for kimonkey7, who is very, very, very responsible for unexpected plot bunnies that bite me in the…well. You get the visual. A response to the community found_fic_spnNr1 challenge.
kimonkey7, who is very, very, very responsible for unexpected plot bunnies that bite me in the…well. You get the visual. A response to the community found_fic_spnNr1 challenge.I have plenty of theories
-Fox Mulder-
It’s a very peaceful night. Just the wind through fields of corn and the endless ribbon of road and stars and moonlight. So much of it, the moon a huge round silver disc in the sky. The road, the miles, the moving, same old song Dean loves to hum.
And all would be perfect if it weren’t for the retching noises. Sam is puking his guts out.
“Told you,” Dean says, holding back the hair from his brother’s forehead, letting him brace against it. His voice holds just the slightest tinge of disgust. “Jesus, Sam, how much did you eat anyway?”
Sam gives out a last retch that is only air and saliva and straightens up. Dean moves his hand away.
“Should have stuck to the steak,” Dean says, and at the mention of food, Sam’s arms fold against his stomach.
“Whatever,” he manages to say. He walks to the car, props his arms against it, lets his head hang down watching the ground. Breeze is cool. Soothing.
“Sure it wasn’t another one of your pranks, Dean?” he asks. Dean walks to his side, mirrors the movement. Then his elbows lean against the Impala and he looks around him before focusing on Sam again.
“Dude. If it had been me, you’d have known. Just old fashioned food poisoning.”
“Feels like a prank to me. The area is supposed to be a fairy playground anyway.”
“Your natural habitat, then.” Dean’s grin is wide. Sam turns his head to him through half closed eyes.
“Screw you, Dean.”
Dean claps him on the shoulder.
“I can see you’re already feeling better. Come on, let’s hit the road.”
“Can you hang on for a while?”
“You still queasy?”
“Nah. It’s just…” Sam let’s his eyes drift to the distance. They are facing the road, backs to the fields, and with a slight turning of his head, he can make out miles yet to come unwinding in the distance under the moonlight. “It’s peaceful here.”
“You’re such a girl,” Dean scoffs, then both turn to look at each other.
Because there is a hum coming from behind them.
****
“That’s a spaceship,” Dean says.
“That’s not a spaceship,” Sam says.
Dean hooks his thumb pointing at the dark metal mass glinting under the moonlight, then opens his hands palms-up and smirks, eyebrows raised.
“So I suppose that’s just a huge saucer shaped random mass of metal that just happened to park here? Cuz let me tell you? I was looking at the cornfields when you were puking your guts out, and the spaceship? Wasn’t there. Would be kinda hard to miss.”
“Nuh-uh,” Sam says. He wipes his suddenly dry lips with his sleeve. “Not a spaceship.”
“The spaceship begs to differ, Sammy.”
“No,” Sam shakes his head again. “This can not be a spaceship. I had food poisoning and clearly I’m hallucinating cuz of the mushroom pie.”
“Or it could be the Bat mobile with a few modifications that happened to end up on the freaking corn fields. But that thing? Is a spaceship. Come on, I wanna check it out, Scully!”
“Whoa, agent Mulder.” Sam rolls his eyes and his hand reaches out and tightens on Dean’s shoulder. “It could be the Trickster.”
“We killed the Trickster.”
“It could be a Trickster.”
“In the middle of nowhere?”
“It’s fairy habitat. Fairies are renowned for pranks.”
“So?”
“Well, it makes more sense than a fucking spaceship, doesn’t it?”
“Dude…we deal with demons and ghosts and the supernatural every day and yet you find it hard to believe in aliens?”
“Dean.”
“Fine. It could be a military project.”
“A military project?”
“Right. Based on alien technology.”
“Dean, what’s with you and aliens?”
“I don’t know. They make more sense.”
“No, they don’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Life can’t be fantasy and sci-fi, Dean. We deal with ghosts. We know they are real. Little green men don’t fit in the picture.”
“They did in X-files.”
“Will you just shut up with that show?”
“No. Now hurry up. You got the giant freak legs, you’re supposed to go faster.”
The disc looks more shiny up close, and gives a faint hum.
“Oh man, I wish I could drive that,” Dean says. “I bet it’s a smooth ride.”
“It wouldn’t be a ride. It would be flying. And Dean, you’re freaked by planes. Ring a bell?”
“Yeah, but… I could fly really low with this. And…this is advanced technology. Less chances of crashing.”
“One word for you: Roswell.”
“You just have to bitch about it, don’t you?”
“You dragged me all the way to this freaking spaceship.”
“So you admit it’s one.”
“In theory.”
“Well, if it looks like one, smells like one, acts like one, it is one.”
“Spaceships smell…?” Sam raises his hands, open palms to his brother. “You know what? Whatever. So what is it doing here?”
Dean gives him his patented Are you an idiot? stare.
“Dude,” he says. “Look around you. It’s a field.”
“Yes, a field. So?”
“Agroglyphs, Sam! What else?”
Sam purses his mouth and twitches his eyebrows.
“Maybe it ran out of gas.”
“You got no imagination in bitching.”
“Dude, it’s lying down. It’s not moving. It’s not doing anything.”
“It’s humming. Uh, I want to touch it.”
“Said the girl to the vibrator. Don’t…” Too late. There is a clang noise and Sam looks at his brother in disbelief.
“Did you just whack it to see if it’s hollow?”
“Nah, I just tried my small magnet on it. It stuck.”
“You carry a magnet?”
“Yes.”
“And you stuck it on it, as if it was a refrigerator.”
“Well, I just wanted to see if it’s made of iron. And it is. Which rules out the fairies, because hey, fairies and iron? Not compatible.”
Sam grabs his arm.
“That’s it,” he says. “We’re outta here.”
He is almost back to the car when Dean stops dead in his tracks.
“Ah fuck.”
“What?”
“I got to get my magnet back.”
“Dean!”
But Dean’s already walking back and Sam simply follows.
****
“Dean, what’s taking you so long?”
“It’s a big thing. My magnet’s small. I had to trace it back to find it, ok? It’s…smoother than I expected.” Dean says wiping his fingers on his jeans. “But not even close to being as sweet as my baby. Can’t draw a comparison at all, mine’s just smoother and prettier and you know what? I bet she could race him.”
“Him?”
“Well. Yeah. No comparison at all.”
“Course not. Cuz yours is a car, vs. this is a spaceship.”
Dean grins.
“I’ll make a believer of you yet, Sam.”
“We gotta go.”
“Why?”
“In case the little green men come out.”
“Maybe they’re not little green men. Maybe they’re hot tall long legged blondes, like Kim Basinger? You know? In my stepmother is an…”
“And maybe tomorrow morning you’ll realize how you spent your night slow dancing with an alien, hmm?” Sam says, pursing his mouth.
Dean sighs.
“You just can’t have any fun, can you?” he says walking back to the car. “Not let me indulge in a little X-files role-play, just for a bit.”
“What?!”
“Of course it’s a Trickster, you dumbass. Or…probably. You said it yourself, aliens and demons don’t mix. Besides, if they had, we’d known by now, wouldn’t we? So I left a tiny message.” The marker he used to paint a clown face on Sam days ago glints in his hands.
“What did you do, Dean?”
“I just painted in some sigils. Whatever it is, if it’s a hallucination spell, should dissolve soon enough.”
Sam’s stare is too insistent.
“What, Sam? You think you’re the only one doing research?”
“It’s not that. It’s just…you have this look on your face.”
“What look?”
“You did something. Sigils aside.”
“Pft…I did not.”
“Deeean…what did you do?”
“I….I just wrote a message to whoever did this.”
“What kind of message?”
“Oh, just a…message.”
“Dean.”
“Your cak is ugly.”
“Your cak is ugly?”
Dean tugs his mouth downwards. “Yeah.”
“Dean, did it ever occur to you that in the improbable statistical possibility that this is an actual spaceship, you just scribbled Your cak is ugly on their ride?”
“It washes off.”
“Dude. The first encounter with humans and what they get is Your cak is ugly? I’d love to see them decipher that. Speak volumes about our civilization.”
“Course it does. It’s an indirect reference to two main drives.”
“Really.”
“Yeah. Sex and beauty. And, baby, I got them both. Come on, let’s get back to the car.”
****
There is a squelching sound and a disgusted mutter from Sam as they walk back.
“Take your shoes off,” Dean says.
“Why?”
“Cuz you just stepped in your own puke, and no way in hell you’re getting in my baby with stinky feet, Sam.”
“Oh come on, Dean.”
“Lose the shoes, or E.T. go home? Not gonna happen.”
Sam curses and takes off the shoes.
“I like these shoes.”
“I’ll buy you new ones.”
“Can’t I just put them in a bag? It’s not like we haven’t bled in the car before. Or had mud and slime.”
“No puke. It’s gross. Lose the shoes.”
“Can’t I just wash them off?”
“Dude, they’re sneakers. Even if you wash them, the puke is already in the fabric. It will stink.”
“For the record, Dean, in the very unlikely case that this isn’t a Trickster or a fairy trick? I hope aliens come and abduct you and do an anal probe on you. With their ugly cak.”
“I’ll let that one go, man. Mushroom talking and all that.”
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
In the rear view mirror, the spaceship starts dissolving like fog under moonlight.
-The End.
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no subject
Date: 2007-05-10 03:14 pm (UTC)2) o.O <--- my shocked face. i drink enough coffee for both of us, so it's okay if you don't like it. it's possible i drink enough coffee for a small nation. shobi hates coffee and so does refur. *is alone with coffee habit* so. how do you feel about hot chocolate?
3) my day is purposely being slow and crawly as to drive me insane before spn comes on.
4) THANK YOU AGAIN!
*gives you hugs and cookies*
i hope your day is going awesomely!
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Date: 2007-05-11 05:35 pm (UTC)2) Hot chocolate? I'm your gal. Totally. Hot chocolate is kind of like coffee is for you.
3) I just watched 2.21. *hides under comfort blanket* I'm desperate and jittery and....grrrr.