Who's on First? Part Seven
May. 15th, 2007 12:44 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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fandomaniaTitle: Who's on First? (Part Seven)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sitrow (a.k.a barkinmad)
Fandoms: SPN/GG (Four in total.)
Rating: PG
Pairing: None, so far.
Disclaimer: If I owned any of these names, places, things, or fandoms, I would keel over and die from euphoria. Since I'm currently breathing, no, I do not claim rights to anything.
Notes: Part One, Part Two , Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, and finally Part Six .
Twilight Zone: Part Three
“What’s the difference between a counter and a tabletop?”
“A counter juts out. Puts out. It’s the whore of the furnishing community.”
“So does a tabletop.”
“No, a tabletop is the part that covers the table. Table. Top…”
“Guys, this conversation is fricken’ fascinating, but can we please get to the point?”
“What is the point , Sam?”
“I’m Dean, he’s Sam.”
“I know,” Lorelai smiled. It was sometimes too much fun to do this. Sometimes.
“The point is that my brother and I are trying to figure something out, and you two are busy bickering about furniture.”
“And?”
“And…shouldn’t we get to the book store?” Dean purposefully directed the question at Sam. No way was he getting into a conversation with this woman.
Lorelai checked her watch, “Andrew’s out for lunch. Which reminds me that I have to get back to the inn.”
Luke came over to clear the table they had taken over from Lane and Zach, who looked as though they had been in a rush anyway. Something about a concert and the BeeGees. Luke took a look at Dean’s expression and couldn’t suppress a little smile.
“I see your brother’s gotten onto the train with Lorelai,” he muttered in Dean’s direction.
“Yeah, but there’s no one steering,” Dean muttered back. And although it was lame, it made Luke happier.
Now they were onto some new topic.
“Balloon’s don’t kill birds.”
“Yes, they do! Rory let one got at a carnival when she was eleven ad there was a dead bird on our porch the next morning.”
“How would a bird who got hit by a balloon find enough time to remember who let the balloon go and then conveniently die on their front porch?”
“It was a pigeon. They have a homing instinct.”
That was when Dean started to look elsewhere in the restaurant until he caugh something out of the corner of his eye.
“Um, Sam?”
“Wait a sec, Dean. Birds do not have homing instincts.”
“Yeah, Rory brought some poem about it home once. She was studying it in middle school for her Spanish class. It was all about this girl…”
“SAM!”
“Dean, wait!”
“...and she had lost her bird or something. And it was a pigeon and it came back to her after it was lost.”
“Yeah,” Dean was now pulling on his sleeve so hard that half of Sam’s shoulder was visible. “Dean, cut it out.”
“Sort of like how Dean came back to Rory again and again.”
“I’m not going to cut it out until you start paying attention to what’s going on outside!”
Unfortunately, both Dean and Lorelai had revealed this information at the same time, so Sam had heard the following, “I’m sort of cut it how cayingack to wory again and on outside?”
“Wait..what?”
“SAM!”
“What?”
“ LOOK OUTSIDE.”
Sam turned around to look through the big bay window that opened up to the street. A guy was outside on the sidewalk across the street, while a woman stood fretting over him. People who had been in the stores or walking through the square started to notice as well and began walking toward the victim.
“Andrew!”
Lorelai, Sam and Dean beat the rush by dashing out the dinner, leaving their chairs helter-skelter and the bell dinging loudly behind them.
“Miss Patty, what happened? Hasn’t Andrew learned anything from the Marx Brothers?”
“I don’t know, honey. I was just talking to Andrew about Balzac and then this gust of wind just blew him over. At first I’d thought he’d fainted or maybe he was diabetic, but when I tried to feed him banana, he just spit it back out.”
Sam noticed the empty peel that was now lying in close proximity to a trash can. Where’d she get a banana from in the first place?
Andrew groaned and tried propping himself up on his elbows. After a sharp breath, he was back lying flat on the ground.
“So, Andrew, huh?” Dean asked. “You got a last name, Andrew?”
“Stevens,” Andrew murmured.
“Okay, Andrew, from the looks of it,” Dean said, kneeling down, “you’ve got at least two broken ribs, so we’re going to need a gurney. Also? Don’t try moving your head, your neck’s fine I think, but you don’t want to do any more damage than necessary. It was a pretty rough fall.”
“Dean,” Lorelai said, starting to kneel down, but Sam stopped her.
“It’s okay. He knows what he’s doing.”
“No, actually, I was talking to you. Come help me clean this mess up.”
Around Andrew lay various trinkets that had fallen out of his pocket. As more and more people gathered around the townie, it became increasingly difficult to pick things up. It didn’t help that people kept calling him Dean, and then getting his brother distracted. Fifteen minutes later, Dean had taken care of Stevens and was taking advice on love from Miss Patty, who seemed a little more interested in Dean than any of her ex-husband, and Sam had managed to pick up four wallet-sized pictures, a credit card, two loose keys, the key chain itself and a driver’s license. He also found a dollar in quarters which, knowing Dean, would never make their way back to Andrew.
“Hey, kid.”
“Don’t call me kid.”
“I call my twenty-year-old ‘kid’, and you’re barely her senior. Hey, kid.”
“Whatever.”
“Whatever,” Lorelai sighed, as if the phrase conjured up bad memories. “I just thought it would be useful to not in the investigation that all the cash from Andrew’s wallet is missing.” Lorelai held up the evidence so that it unfolded in the air and displayed the empty placeholders for the pictures and credit card that Sam was holding. Sam handed the missing paraphernalia over, guiltily pocketing the quarters with his free hand.
By this time, the crowd had dispersed and Lorelai, Sam and Dean were standing on the corner outside a place Sam could now identify as “Doose’s Market” by the sign on the front door.
“Now,” Lorelai began, “explain why you guys were the only ones not hyperventilating five minutes ago.”
“We’re good under pressure, so what?” Dean started off down the street, but Sam held him back. They didn’t have anywhere to be anymore.
“There’s something other than that though. How would you two guys who’ve been around everywhere like Cash stay in a place long enough to learn medical stuff like that?”
Dean glared at the mention of the home issue, but didn’t say anything. Good, it meant that he liked Lorelai.
“Well, when you’re on the road alone, you tend to pick up some things. Medical and shit like that. Weird stuff happens on the road...”
A yelp from behind interrupted their conversation, and as they turned around, Sam saw a man dangling from the top railing of the gazebo.
“Oh, Kirk,” Lorelai sighed, and walked over.
There was already another crowd around Kirk, and he was mid-way through his story.
“I was getting down to see if Andrew was okay, and then I realized that Taylor had taken his ladder back.”
“Why can’t you just jump down? It’s only a couple of feet…” Sam suggested.
“You know I have weak knee caps, Dean.”
“I’m NOT Dean!” And he certainly did not want to be the person who would know such a fact about a guy hanging for his life five feet above the ground.
“– Why don’t we get you a mattress, Kirk?”
“That’ll work.” And the guy who had suggested it toddled off into “Doose’s Market”.
“Yeah, like this,” Dean started up again, turning again to walk down the main road, “this whole town is a freak show. No wonder it’s a haunting ground – OW! Seriously, dude, stop it!”
Sam glared at Dean through his bangs. Did he have to tell everyone? Now Lorelai would be spooked; no pun intended.
“Haunting ground,” Lorelai questioned, with a raised eyebrow, “Are you suggesting that Stars Hollow is haunted? Should we watch out for the headless horseman?”
“No, that’s Sleepy Hollow,” Dean said, exasperated and running his hands over his face.
Sam nudged him, “Dude, she’s joking.”
Dean looked up and from Lorelai to Sam and back. “Weirdest ass sense of humor, I swear,” he said, and stalked off.
“Is he okay?” Lorelai asked, filling in the gap between her and Sam that Dean had left. “And more importantly. Does he know where’s he’s going?”
“Yes, and no.”
Author:
sitrow (a.k.a barkinmad) Fandoms: SPN/GG (Four in total.)
Rating: PG
Pairing: None, so far.
Disclaimer: If I owned any of these names, places, things, or fandoms, I would keel over and die from euphoria. Since I'm currently breathing, no, I do not claim rights to anything.
Notes: Part One, Part Two , Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, and finally Part Six .
Twilight Zone: Part Three
“What’s the difference between a counter and a tabletop?”
“A counter juts out. Puts out. It’s the whore of the furnishing community.”
“So does a tabletop.”
“No, a tabletop is the part that covers the table. Table. Top…”
“Guys, this conversation is fricken’ fascinating, but can we please get to the point?”
“What is the point , Sam?”
“I’m Dean, he’s Sam.”
“I know,” Lorelai smiled. It was sometimes too much fun to do this. Sometimes.
“The point is that my brother and I are trying to figure something out, and you two are busy bickering about furniture.”
“And?”
“And…shouldn’t we get to the book store?” Dean purposefully directed the question at Sam. No way was he getting into a conversation with this woman.
Lorelai checked her watch, “Andrew’s out for lunch. Which reminds me that I have to get back to the inn.”
Luke came over to clear the table they had taken over from Lane and Zach, who looked as though they had been in a rush anyway. Something about a concert and the BeeGees. Luke took a look at Dean’s expression and couldn’t suppress a little smile.
“I see your brother’s gotten onto the train with Lorelai,” he muttered in Dean’s direction.
“Yeah, but there’s no one steering,” Dean muttered back. And although it was lame, it made Luke happier.
Now they were onto some new topic.
“Balloon’s don’t kill birds.”
“Yes, they do! Rory let one got at a carnival when she was eleven ad there was a dead bird on our porch the next morning.”
“How would a bird who got hit by a balloon find enough time to remember who let the balloon go and then conveniently die on their front porch?”
“It was a pigeon. They have a homing instinct.”
That was when Dean started to look elsewhere in the restaurant until he caugh something out of the corner of his eye.
“Um, Sam?”
“Wait a sec, Dean. Birds do not have homing instincts.”
“Yeah, Rory brought some poem about it home once. She was studying it in middle school for her Spanish class. It was all about this girl…”
“SAM!”
“Dean, wait!”
“...and she had lost her bird or something. And it was a pigeon and it came back to her after it was lost.”
“Yeah,” Dean was now pulling on his sleeve so hard that half of Sam’s shoulder was visible. “Dean, cut it out.”
“Sort of like how Dean came back to Rory again and again.”
“I’m not going to cut it out until you start paying attention to what’s going on outside!”
Unfortunately, both Dean and Lorelai had revealed this information at the same time, so Sam had heard the following, “I’m sort of cut it how cayingack to wory again and on outside?”
“Wait..what?”
“SAM!”
“What?”
“ LOOK OUTSIDE.”
Sam turned around to look through the big bay window that opened up to the street. A guy was outside on the sidewalk across the street, while a woman stood fretting over him. People who had been in the stores or walking through the square started to notice as well and began walking toward the victim.
“Andrew!”
Lorelai, Sam and Dean beat the rush by dashing out the dinner, leaving their chairs helter-skelter and the bell dinging loudly behind them.
“Miss Patty, what happened? Hasn’t Andrew learned anything from the Marx Brothers?”
“I don’t know, honey. I was just talking to Andrew about Balzac and then this gust of wind just blew him over. At first I’d thought he’d fainted or maybe he was diabetic, but when I tried to feed him banana, he just spit it back out.”
Sam noticed the empty peel that was now lying in close proximity to a trash can. Where’d she get a banana from in the first place?
Andrew groaned and tried propping himself up on his elbows. After a sharp breath, he was back lying flat on the ground.
“So, Andrew, huh?” Dean asked. “You got a last name, Andrew?”
“Stevens,” Andrew murmured.
“Okay, Andrew, from the looks of it,” Dean said, kneeling down, “you’ve got at least two broken ribs, so we’re going to need a gurney. Also? Don’t try moving your head, your neck’s fine I think, but you don’t want to do any more damage than necessary. It was a pretty rough fall.”
“Dean,” Lorelai said, starting to kneel down, but Sam stopped her.
“It’s okay. He knows what he’s doing.”
“No, actually, I was talking to you. Come help me clean this mess up.”
Around Andrew lay various trinkets that had fallen out of his pocket. As more and more people gathered around the townie, it became increasingly difficult to pick things up. It didn’t help that people kept calling him Dean, and then getting his brother distracted. Fifteen minutes later, Dean had taken care of Stevens and was taking advice on love from Miss Patty, who seemed a little more interested in Dean than any of her ex-husband, and Sam had managed to pick up four wallet-sized pictures, a credit card, two loose keys, the key chain itself and a driver’s license. He also found a dollar in quarters which, knowing Dean, would never make their way back to Andrew.
“Hey, kid.”
“Don’t call me kid.”
“I call my twenty-year-old ‘kid’, and you’re barely her senior. Hey, kid.”
“Whatever.”
“Whatever,” Lorelai sighed, as if the phrase conjured up bad memories. “I just thought it would be useful to not in the investigation that all the cash from Andrew’s wallet is missing.” Lorelai held up the evidence so that it unfolded in the air and displayed the empty placeholders for the pictures and credit card that Sam was holding. Sam handed the missing paraphernalia over, guiltily pocketing the quarters with his free hand.
By this time, the crowd had dispersed and Lorelai, Sam and Dean were standing on the corner outside a place Sam could now identify as “Doose’s Market” by the sign on the front door.
“Now,” Lorelai began, “explain why you guys were the only ones not hyperventilating five minutes ago.”
“We’re good under pressure, so what?” Dean started off down the street, but Sam held him back. They didn’t have anywhere to be anymore.
“There’s something other than that though. How would you two guys who’ve been around everywhere like Cash stay in a place long enough to learn medical stuff like that?”
Dean glared at the mention of the home issue, but didn’t say anything. Good, it meant that he liked Lorelai.
“Well, when you’re on the road alone, you tend to pick up some things. Medical and shit like that. Weird stuff happens on the road...”
A yelp from behind interrupted their conversation, and as they turned around, Sam saw a man dangling from the top railing of the gazebo.
“Oh, Kirk,” Lorelai sighed, and walked over.
There was already another crowd around Kirk, and he was mid-way through his story.
“I was getting down to see if Andrew was okay, and then I realized that Taylor had taken his ladder back.”
“Why can’t you just jump down? It’s only a couple of feet…” Sam suggested.
“You know I have weak knee caps, Dean.”
“I’m NOT Dean!” And he certainly did not want to be the person who would know such a fact about a guy hanging for his life five feet above the ground.
“– Why don’t we get you a mattress, Kirk?”
“That’ll work.” And the guy who had suggested it toddled off into “Doose’s Market”.
“Yeah, like this,” Dean started up again, turning again to walk down the main road, “this whole town is a freak show. No wonder it’s a haunting ground – OW! Seriously, dude, stop it!”
Sam glared at Dean through his bangs. Did he have to tell everyone? Now Lorelai would be spooked; no pun intended.
“Haunting ground,” Lorelai questioned, with a raised eyebrow, “Are you suggesting that Stars Hollow is haunted? Should we watch out for the headless horseman?”
“No, that’s Sleepy Hollow,” Dean said, exasperated and running his hands over his face.
Sam nudged him, “Dude, she’s joking.”
Dean looked up and from Lorelai to Sam and back. “Weirdest ass sense of humor, I swear,” he said, and stalked off.
“Is he okay?” Lorelai asked, filling in the gap between her and Sam that Dean had left. “And more importantly. Does he know where’s he’s going?”
“Yes, and no.”
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