Mink (minkmix) wrote,

SPN/DNC: The Swing Vote

Title: The Swing Vote
Author: Mink
Rating: Humor - PG - Gen - CRACK!fic for sn_crossovers: Fandom First Crossover Challenge
Spoilers: General (for all aired episodes)
Disclaimers: SPN & characters are owned by their various creators.
Summary: SPN vs. The DNC (Democratic National Convention)

The old west still had its share of convenient ghost towns.

The man in the expensive suit slowly roused from his seat in the only chair in the room. The crackle of flames rising in the stone hearth lit the dusty cabin in stuttering flashes, the orange light igniting the glassy pupils of the mounted deer heads hanging crooked on the walls.

Dean exchanged a look with Sam that meant the salt lines at the doors and windows should probably be checked just one more time.

“You boys have made a real big mistake,” the man said amiably as he checked his trapped hands. “Bigger than you could ever imagine.”

It was easy to find the abandoned mining town within an hour’s ride from the bustling city center of downtown Denver. It was easy to mix in with the thousands of people who had come to attend a convention that would be broadcast live to the whole entire waiting world. And while it was a simple matter for the Winchesters to find a place to hide just outside the city limits, it was quite another to kidnap a Democratic hopeful right out from under his armed entourage and drive him out here.

“So?“ The senator crossed his legs. “What exactly do you fellas want?”

“Just a few words,” Sam said. “It won’t take long.”

“Private meetings are a little problematic for a man like me,” he said. “Tonight’s kind of a big deal and I have an important speech to make.”

“Like I said, no one will ever be the wiser,” Sam held up a worn leather journal that held all sorts of words and charms that could rearrange anyone’s memory if that what he wanted it to do. “You‘ll be back in your hotel within the hour.”

“Maybe,” Dean knelt down next to him. “Maybe not.”

For the first time since they’d met the senator, the even smile on his face wavered. “People are going to be looking for me. And I pay those people good money to keep me safe. And when they find you there won’t be any time spent on the state of your mental health before you both vanish like-”

“Ghosts?” Dean guessed.

The senator settled back in the chair as comfortably as Sam had seen him do with any interview with any foreign dignitary. His smile was just as dazzling in the dim firelight, but it was a little more discomfiting to now know the reason why.

“So,” the man asked. “What’s this all about?”

Dean stood up with a sigh. “We’ve been watching the newscasts just like everybody else and we couldn’t help but notice your eyes.”

The senator ‘s affable stare was broken by an uncertain blink.

“It’s hard to catch if you’re not looking for it,” Dean assured him. “But with all the God talk you guys have been throwing around that pretty black tint comes out every now and then.”

“You’ve got the wrong man,” he said evenly. “If you’re looking for something unnatural you might want to look further to the right.”

“Nah,” Dean laughed a little. “That guy has an entirely different camera flare. Right now I’ve got my money on a Shapeshifter. But we won‘t know anything for sure until we get to him in ST. Paul. And just between you and me and that Alaskan’s chick’s teeth, I’m also betting on a little Werewolf action-”

“Dean?” Sam cleared his throat.

“Right, uh, like I said? Don’t worry. We’re on it.”

“So you know the big secret,“ The gentlemen tied to the chair let his assured smile fade completely. “There are lots of us out there. In public office and other places,” his gaze flickered back to Sam’s book. “If you think getting rid of just one of me is going stop it then you are sadly mistaken.”

“No,” Dean shook his head. “That’s not why we’re here.”

The tall man shifted uncertainly and reconsidered them both.

“Now we get that you’re a demon.” Dean said. “And that we can exorcise you right back to the depths of Illinois if need be. But then we got to thinking… why? You’re nothing but another opportunist looking to take over the most important and most powerful country on the planet, right?”

“This is America son,” he spread out his hands as best he could. “Anyone can transcend his or her station and live the dream.”

“Exactly,” Dean pointed at him with a grin. “And I have to admit, this past year has really lead me to rethink the whole demon thing. I mean I know the majority of you guys are made of pure evil that want us all made into throw rugs, but some of ya? Some of you aren’t that bad. In fact, compared to some legit human beings, a few of you come off better than bonafide saints.”

“So,” the senator said. “Which do you think I am?”

“Look, I can read people, and I get it,” Dean assured him. “You’re a liar, a thief and a scum bag and that‘s fine.” The man in the fine tailored suit snarled, the black churn in his eyes flickering from the back of his throat like a cold sputter of flame. “…but you’re not a Republican are you?”

“The bumper sticker on my car should answer that one.”

“All we wanted you to know is that there are guys like us out here,” Dean jerked a thumb over at Sam. “And we’ll always be watching.”

“Watching for what?”

“That you keep good care of this place,” Dean told him. “Because if you don’t? Well, you’ll be facing something a whole lot more disagreeable than some embarrassing impeachment trial on CNN.”

“What if the other guy wins?” he asked complacently. “Then what will you do?”

Sam didn’t know why his brother went for the theatrics of actually taking out the gun, but Dean held the glitter of silver bullets out in the palm of his hand.

“Then we’ll take care of it,” Dean shrugged. “With a couple of these.”

“So do I get a pass?” the senator asked. “I’m good enough for you?”

“Hey, you wanna stop a war? We wanna stop a war too. I think we’re both on the same page there,” Dean said. “I just like to meet a man, or …whatever, face to face before I let him go taking over my country.”

Sam flipped open the journal, ready to recite the passages that would remove all memory of their meeting. The senator’s black eyes flared at the sound of the first syllables that would send him back into the sleep they had put him in before he arrived.

“Wait,” he said. “Before I… go?”

Sam paused.

“Where exactly have you boys been for the last 8 years?”

Dean let out a deep sigh that sounded apologetic. “Sorry pal, we don’t do humans.”

Sam decided to read quickly so they could get it all over with. Smuggling a candidate back into a convention center that had more cameras and security than the Super Bowl wasn’t going to be a piece of cake. “One more question,” he asked just before the man slipped all the way under. “Does your wife know?”

The senator’s smug smile was back in place.

As Sam watched his brother get the car trunk ready for transport he wondered exactly who else in the White House might not own a mortal soul. But he figured in the end it didn’t really matter much. Not being hindered by the trappings of a conscience probably did more than a little to help the process along.

In fact, it probably helped quite a lot.

Tags: crossover, spn humor
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