Mink (minkmix) wrote,
Mink
minkmix

SPN/DA Fic: (Minor Tremor 5)

These Minor Tremors are the stories within this AU that don't really fit anywhere in particular. They tend to be humor-oriented and so far they all take place in Blue Earth.

Title: (Minor Tremor 1) - (Minor Tremor 2) - (Minor Tremor 3) - (Minor Tremor 4) - (Minor Tremor 5) - (Minor Tremor 6) - (Minor Tremor 7) - (Minor Tremor 8) - (Minor Tremor 9) - (Minor Tremor 10) - (Minor Tremor 11)
accompaniment(s) to: With a Bang
Author: Mink
Rating: ♥Humor♥ SPN/DA Crossover - PG - Gen – AU in the year 2020
Spoilers: General (for all aired episodes)
Disclaimers: SPN & DA characters are owned by their various creators.
Summary: Dean POV. Dean needs a favor.



Dean knew the art of the con didn’t stop at the doors of the bars.

If any Winchester knew anything at all, they knew how to play people as a means to their own ends. Hell, sometimes they just did it for stuff they just wanted. The point being that if life was the con, the con was your life, therefore the codes of conduct weren’t dropped when they were off duty. But Dean had no complaints about his father’s version of the Ten Commandments. They were pretty much the same just with a few amendments.

You shall not steal: unless the security system is lame.
You shall not murder: unless he/she is asking for it.
You shall not covet your neighbour’s house; you shall not covet your neighbour’s wife, or male or female slave, or ox, or donkey, or anything that belongs to your neighbour.

Dean didn’t exactly understand all of the sacrament in present day middle America, but he got the gist.

But the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God; you shall not do any work—you, your son or your daughter, your male or female slave, your livestock, or the alien resident in your towns.

It was strange to realize it was the Sabbath and the Alien Resident Livestock Slave Thing of the Towns was sitting on the sofa in his underpants and watching television. Dawn had barely changed the sky from black to gray and Alec was already getting down and dirty with his BFF*. But instead of reality shows and music videos, his BFF was playing some CNN coverage about some flooding in some shitty part of Indonesia that was always under a few feet of water at any given time. But international tragedy aside, Dean knew he had to start this game off cool if he wanted to score Alec’s compliance.

But first things first.

“You eat your breakfast?” Dean picked his words carefully. If he only asked about the vitamins then Alec would get pissed off and not take any of them out of pure spite. “I don’t see any plates.”

“I washed them.”

“Don’t make me ask, Alec,” Dean tried not to feel like an asshole and failed. “You haven’t taken your meds in two days.”

“How do you know?” Alec sat up straighter, guilt making him honest. “I pretended to swallow them right in front of you!”

“Actually, all I noticed was your recent lack of sleep,” Dean yawned. “Talking to me all night long and watching TV in my room kind of makes a guy suspicious.”

“Oh,” Alec held his hand out for the hated medication, his unbreakable link back to Manticore, his duty and bane. “There. See? I swallowed them all.” He stuck out a blue tongue.

“I’d give you a cookie if I had one.”

“I’ll take whatever you got.”

“Well, now that you mention it….”

Gnawing on the inside of his lip, Dean was uncertain where to sit. This all had to fall neatly into place like one of those interlock puzzle games, or it would go to hell real fast. Because the thing was, for all his family’s know how, Dean had never formally been taught the fine art of asking for a favor. No one in his family ever bothered with any sugar coating or even offering the unsuspecting fool a drink first. A task was either ordered point blank or it was just taken for granted that the deed would get done. However, Alec didn’t respond as conveniently with the traditional methods.

“Hey, Alec,” he included a small disarming smile. “You busy?“

“Yes.”

And while Dean was very happy the kid was embracing his new found ability to Just Say No, he also wanted some flat out obedience every now and then. Especially without a hour of negotiations beforehand on the terms and agreements. Glancing at the spastic commercial flashing on the monitor, Dean counted sixteen empty beer bottles on the coffee table and an equal amount of Twinkie wrappers. His uneasiness began to fade with the knowledge that the kid was riding a couple of different highs.

He sat forward, his confidence fortified and primed for go.

“What’s that you’re doin’ there?” Dean asked. “Still watching the Olympics and looking for barcodes?”

“Nope,“ Alec hefted a plastic bag filled with thick ropes of red licorice. “I’m eating these.”

Wondering where the candy had even come from, Dean had almost missed the way Alec had announced the endeavor as if it were a legitimate activity that required concentration.

“Good, then you won’t mind taking a break and maybe-”

“I’m not fixing the dishwasher,” Alec informed him. “That thing never does anything but rinse everything in cold water. It‘s disgusting and wrong and you can’t make me be a part of it.”

“That’s not what I was-”

“And the soap dispenser leaves streaks on the glasses.”

If Dean had had any suspicions that Alec had jacked their washer just so he could do all the dishes by hand, they had just been neatly confirmed.

“No, no, no, it’s not about that.” Dean looked unhappily out the front door and to the dirt drive beyond. “The only school bus in town is about to break down so they brought it over here so I could have the joy of spending my weekend fixing it and I thought maybe-”

“It’s like eating coaxial cable,” Alec gnawed on another piece of licorice. “If you know, you could eat that stuff.”

“-and the bus is pretty old. Like older than … older than ….”

“You?”

“Older than most of the spares I got laying around so we’re gonna need a little innovation here. Thinking outside the box so to speak. So if you could get your ass up off the sofa and into some pants we could get started.”

“Did you know," Alec clicked to an informerical. "That the CarpetSteamerMasterSteamMachine can clean almost all surfaces including crushed velvet?”

“What the hell is crushed velvet?”

“No one knows,” Alec waved a piece of licorice at the laptop. “And what the hell would you be doing to it that you’d need a CarpetSteamerMasterSteamMachine to get it tidy again?”

Dean found himself actually trying to think of an answer for the question before he could stop himself. In the process, his gaze fell on the giant plastic sack of candy that was still sitting in Alec’s lap.

“By the way Alec, where’d you get that stuff?”

“Found it.”

“Found it where?”

“Dunno. Don’t remember. In the backyard I think?”

The ability to plausibly tell a lie was undoubtedly a trait straight from the Winchester gene pool and it broke Dean’s heart a little bit whenever he had to watch the kid try.

“Look Alec, I’m only askin’ ‘cause I haven’t seen those things for a real long time. I don’t think the universe even makes Twizzlers anymore.”

“Did you know that if you bite off either end you can make them into straws?”

“Now that I think about it, the last time we had any of those in the house was for a dumb birthday party when I turned 30 which was … well, it was a few years back.”

“You mean eleven years back?”

“Yeah, thanks, but I’m trying to say that shit is as old as the Pulse and I’m not sure it’s a fantastic idea to eat it.”

“They are a little crunchy,” Alec considered another one before putting it into his mouth. “But that red dye #40? It really grows on you.”

“About the bus?”

“Yeah, yeah, I heard it pull up this morning,” Alec leaned to the side when Dean stepped directly in front of the television. “From the sound of it I’d say the entire transmission needs to be replaced and uh, probably all the tires and the suspension. While you’re at it I’d also replace the steering column and all the wiring.”

Dean looped the television cord around his boot and very discreetly disconnected it from the wall. It was nice to watch Alec work the remote in puzzled confusion for a while. It got even better when he emptied out the batteries and attempted rotating them.

“What about the fuzzy dice hanging off the rear view?” Dean asked. “You think I should sew some new ones too?”

“Your call,” Alec shrugged. “You want some help? The TV isn’t working.”

“Sure,” Dean said. “Why not.”

Alec groaned sadly as he left his warm sofa nest to shiver in the early frigid dawn. His mysteriously silent BFF was a mystery he’d have to solve later. Right now Alec needed pants and some work boots. It was cold under that slate gray sky and Dean did feel a little badly at making the kid toil on the day of the Sabbath. Watching Alec haul up the engine cowl to take a look inside, he decided to make his other announcement now.

“I got a little more work out here for you later,” Dean said. “Besides the bus. The bus gets done first.”

“Aw man,” Alec let the hood slam down in disgust. “Are you serious? I told you I had plans. I hadn’t even eaten half of that old red crap OR watch the Men’s Track& Field because I know, I KNOW, the Russians just didn’t start raking in Gold medals because they’re so awesome at running. I‘m doing some fast-freeze framing and I‘m gonna find some barcodes.”

“Over there, Alec,” Dean said. “It’s right up along side the tool shed. I tossed a sheet over it to hide it from you and I guess it worked.”

Alec walked cautiously towards it, but the closer he got the more obvious the shape under the oil tarp was. “It’s a motorcycle,” he pulled back the cloth. “It’s old.”

“Yeah,” Dean smiled. “I know how much you love sitting in the back seat so now you have another …option. I started on it a little. It‘s got storage for some shot guns on either side and a nice leather seat.”

“It’s a piece of shit…”

“At least it’s made in America,” Dean said. “No kid of mine is gonna be seen riding a rice rocket.”

“Japanese bikes are much cooler,” Alec wiped his hand down the oil caked fender and found a color underneath. “They‘re fast, sleek and sexy. A-And girls really like them.”

“A Harley Davidson will score you tail,” Dean laughed a little. “Don’t you worry.”

“I guess this means I gotta go find a black leather jacket.”

Dean laughed some more until he forgot one important detail. “Oh yeah... I kinda sort of neglected to tell Sam about the new bike. So be a pal and tell him YOU found it. It’s all YOUR idea and so on and so forth.”

“Yes, sir!”

Turning back to the sight of the wrecked bus, Dean felt his optimism waver. But it never quite flickered out. Especially when Alec began joyously punching out all the old windows that would have to be replaced. Dean tried one with a hammer and suddenly wished there were a fleet of old buses at his disposal. A guy had to have some fun time to time.

More than ever on the goddamn Sabbath.











*Best Friends Forever
Tags: aftershocks, dean pov, gen, minor tremors, spn humor, spn/da crossover, with a bang
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