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spankerellatitle: Now You're Messing with a Son of a Bitch
author: echo
rating: 15 (language)
disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke.
summary: Dean swears a lot, and Dawn's still the master of getting under people's skin.
AN: The title is a lyric from the Nazareth song "Hair of the Dog", and this was TOTALLY inspired by this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8T33UnGcxw4
*~*~*
"Son of a bitch!" He shouted as he kicked over a metal trash can, making loads of racket. "Dammit!"
Dawn was sprawled out on her back where the demon had knocked her. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at one half, the less sane half in her opinion, of her new hunting team. The Winchester brothers were damn good at what they did most of the time. Yes, they occasionally got themselves kidnapped or taken hostage or locked in a cellar or something. Who didn't? She'd been taken a few times herself. Must be Tuesday, right? But all in all the Winchesters got it done.
But Dawn had noticed something about big brother Dean.
She looked at the baby brother. "Your brother says the word bitch a lot. Were you aware of this?"
Sam, who was sprawled on his face next to her, craned his head around and pinned her with an incredulous look. She knew what he was thinking. They'd pretty much just gotten their asses handed to them by this demon, a demon that had also gotten away from them just now thus Dean's trash can abuse, and she was commenting on Dean's vocabulary. It was pretty far down of the list of things Sam was probably concerned about just now. It should have been fairly far down on Dawn's list too, but what could she say? She was still a Scoobie. Sometimes you needed to call attention to other more innocuous things to get your head back in the game. Sometimes you needed to ask the dumb questions, point out what was so obvious. Just say it aloud.
"Shit. That demon, what a bitch. You two ok?" Dean asked. "Sammy?"
Dawn grinned at how he checked on Sam first. Always Sam first. She was the same way. She called for Sam first. Sam just had something about him that just made you want to protect him fiercely. That was what she and Dean had in common. They both loved the hell out of Sam.
"Fine. I'm fine." Sam grunted as Dean grabbed one of his arms to help haul him to his feet.
"I'm ok too, Dean. Thanks for asking." Dawn muttered as she got up and dusted herself off. "Douche bag."
It was as if he were a dog hearing a sound too high for human ears when she insulted him. "What was that, Dawn?"
"Nothing, Dean. I'm super." She said sarcastically. "Thanks for asking." Then she muttered under her breath once again. "You baby Jesus butt plug."
"Hey! I heard that! Goddammit!" Dean all but lunged for her.
Dawn just raised a brow and stood her ground. "Lord's fucking name."
He flinched, as if how DARE she make a Boondock Saints reference to HIM. Then he recovered and advanced.
Sam stepped between them, as he always did. "Let's not. Not right now. We need to find out where that thing went."
"Bitch." Dean grumbled as he turned away.
"Is that the only word you know?" Dawn spat, then mumbled. "Das cunt."
"Hey!" Dean lunged for her again.
Sam grabbed him. "Will you two cut this shit out? Just for, like, a couple of minutes."
Dawn gasped. "You said shit, Sam."
"I mean it." Sam ignored her off-humor. "Stop it. Both of you. This is annoying."
"I will when he puts on his big girl panties and recognizes that I spent years in the company of Spike and Faith. He needs new swears. Man can not live on bitch alone. He's worn out his welcome with bitch, I think. Plus, it's not REALLY an insult to me." She eyed Dean. "Faith calls me bitch affectionately, needle dick."
Dean grabbed for her again.
"Cut it out, Dawn." Sam snapped. "You really need to stop insulting his manhood. It makes him all crazy."
"What manhood?"
Dean struggled. Sam rolled his eyes. Why did Dean have to rise to the occasion every single time? Couldn't he see that she loved messing with him? Couldn't he see that if he'd quit reacting as she hoped he would that she'd get tired of it? Maybe even stop?
Likely not. That was not Dean's forte.
Sam sighed. "Stop. One more of your cute nicknames or insults, Dawn, and I release the hounds here. Dean, cut it out. Ignore her. We have more important things to do."
That said and his feelings now known, Sam stalked off.
"Yeah." Dean said. "One more insult to Dean Too, and I'll whip him out and mushroom stamp your forehead."
Dawn just gave him a 'bored now' look. Normally Dean was a bit smoother with the ladies, but something about her got his hackles up big time. She completely put him off balance. Dawn loved that. Maybe because when they had first met, he'd been a bit flirty, but Dawn was all about the job. Now they had fallen into a pattern. Like brother and sister... but not. Like herself and Buffy, but ten times worse. And different because, well, just because.
A woman's scream pierced the night.
Both Dawn and Dean's heads snapped in the direction it had come from.
"Son of a bitch-assed bitch." Dean spat. "Well, I think I know where the demon went."
"What fabulous detecting skills, Miss Veronica Mars."
Dean glared at her before he grabbed her arm and dragged her along behind him. "One of these days..."
"You're gonna put on your big girl panties?"
He whipped around and got in her face. "You're gonna get the ass whipping you so richly deserve, little girl."
"By you?" Dawn snorted loudly. "Ha! I could take you with my hands tied behind my back."
"Can you two quit flirting and come on! Demon, people in peril, any of this ringing any bells?" Sam shouted.
Dean made a noise of protest, as if to say he most certainly had not been flirting with Dawn.
Dawn grinned. "Keep telling yourself that, bitch." Then she slapped him hard on the butt before trotting off to Sam.
One of these days she and Dean were going to just break down and attack one another. Until then, she'd continue to push his buttons. It was going to be a beautiful explosion. She'd known that ever since she'd accidentally walked in on him in the shower. He might be a surly son of a bitch, but he was a HOT surly son of a bitch.
"Hey, you don't hit me." Dean snapped as he fell into step next to her. "It's a good thing my dad taught me not to hit girls. And who are you calling a bitch, bitch?"
"Dad taught you how not to hit girls, huh? I thought I was gonna get the richly-deserved whipping one day. Isn't whipping hitting? Have I been doing it wrong?"
Dean's eye twitched. She saw it out of the corner of her eye. Man, she loved messing with him. It was way more fun than messing with Buffy. Dean got so emotional about it, and plus, he was WAY more appealing to her than Buffy... because incest? Eww. Also, he was a dude and her sister was a girl, and Dawn was mostly definitely not gay. Plus Dean was mostly a tough guy that didn't do hugs or any sort of bonding, so his almost losing it from her little digs was great.
"You know what my dad taught me?" She asked. "How to walk away."
That said, she sped up to pace Sam.
"Bitch." Dean muttered.
"Takes one to know one, fucktard." She called over her shoulder.
Dean jogged forward to catch her arm and whipped her around. "Dammit, Dawn."
Sam even stopped to watch.
Dawn made her most innocent face. "Yes?"
"Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated?"
"Did you just quote an Avril Lavigne song?" She made a face. "Dude, that's weak."
His eye twitched again.
"Are you two done flirting?" Sam asked. "Can we go try again with the demon? There was screaming. It's this way, but only if you guys are finished."
"Just about." Dean muttered.
"Good." Sam said. "I'm gonna go on then. You two catch up in a minute."
Dawn snorted. "We're not finished? What else is left to say, whiny butt bag?"
"Son of a BITCH." Dean said before he grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her mouth to his.
*~*~*
end
author: echo
rating: 15 (language)
disclaimer: Not mine. They belong to Joss Whedon and Eric Kripke.
summary: Dean swears a lot, and Dawn's still the master of getting under people's skin.
AN: The title is a lyric from the Nazareth song "Hair of the Dog", and this was TOTALLY inspired by this video:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8T33UnGcxw4
*~*~*
"Son of a bitch!" He shouted as he kicked over a metal trash can, making loads of racket. "Dammit!"
Dawn was sprawled out on her back where the demon had knocked her. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at one half, the less sane half in her opinion, of her new hunting team. The Winchester brothers were damn good at what they did most of the time. Yes, they occasionally got themselves kidnapped or taken hostage or locked in a cellar or something. Who didn't? She'd been taken a few times herself. Must be Tuesday, right? But all in all the Winchesters got it done.
But Dawn had noticed something about big brother Dean.
She looked at the baby brother. "Your brother says the word bitch a lot. Were you aware of this?"
Sam, who was sprawled on his face next to her, craned his head around and pinned her with an incredulous look. She knew what he was thinking. They'd pretty much just gotten their asses handed to them by this demon, a demon that had also gotten away from them just now thus Dean's trash can abuse, and she was commenting on Dean's vocabulary. It was pretty far down of the list of things Sam was probably concerned about just now. It should have been fairly far down on Dawn's list too, but what could she say? She was still a Scoobie. Sometimes you needed to call attention to other more innocuous things to get your head back in the game. Sometimes you needed to ask the dumb questions, point out what was so obvious. Just say it aloud.
"Shit. That demon, what a bitch. You two ok?" Dean asked. "Sammy?"
Dawn grinned at how he checked on Sam first. Always Sam first. She was the same way. She called for Sam first. Sam just had something about him that just made you want to protect him fiercely. That was what she and Dean had in common. They both loved the hell out of Sam.
"Fine. I'm fine." Sam grunted as Dean grabbed one of his arms to help haul him to his feet.
"I'm ok too, Dean. Thanks for asking." Dawn muttered as she got up and dusted herself off. "Douche bag."
It was as if he were a dog hearing a sound too high for human ears when she insulted him. "What was that, Dawn?"
"Nothing, Dean. I'm super." She said sarcastically. "Thanks for asking." Then she muttered under her breath once again. "You baby Jesus butt plug."
"Hey! I heard that! Goddammit!" Dean all but lunged for her.
Dawn just raised a brow and stood her ground. "Lord's fucking name."
He flinched, as if how DARE she make a Boondock Saints reference to HIM. Then he recovered and advanced.
Sam stepped between them, as he always did. "Let's not. Not right now. We need to find out where that thing went."
"Bitch." Dean grumbled as he turned away.
"Is that the only word you know?" Dawn spat, then mumbled. "Das cunt."
"Hey!" Dean lunged for her again.
Sam grabbed him. "Will you two cut this shit out? Just for, like, a couple of minutes."
Dawn gasped. "You said shit, Sam."
"I mean it." Sam ignored her off-humor. "Stop it. Both of you. This is annoying."
"I will when he puts on his big girl panties and recognizes that I spent years in the company of Spike and Faith. He needs new swears. Man can not live on bitch alone. He's worn out his welcome with bitch, I think. Plus, it's not REALLY an insult to me." She eyed Dean. "Faith calls me bitch affectionately, needle dick."
Dean grabbed for her again.
"Cut it out, Dawn." Sam snapped. "You really need to stop insulting his manhood. It makes him all crazy."
"What manhood?"
Dean struggled. Sam rolled his eyes. Why did Dean have to rise to the occasion every single time? Couldn't he see that she loved messing with him? Couldn't he see that if he'd quit reacting as she hoped he would that she'd get tired of it? Maybe even stop?
Likely not. That was not Dean's forte.
Sam sighed. "Stop. One more of your cute nicknames or insults, Dawn, and I release the hounds here. Dean, cut it out. Ignore her. We have more important things to do."
That said and his feelings now known, Sam stalked off.
"Yeah." Dean said. "One more insult to Dean Too, and I'll whip him out and mushroom stamp your forehead."
Dawn just gave him a 'bored now' look. Normally Dean was a bit smoother with the ladies, but something about her got his hackles up big time. She completely put him off balance. Dawn loved that. Maybe because when they had first met, he'd been a bit flirty, but Dawn was all about the job. Now they had fallen into a pattern. Like brother and sister... but not. Like herself and Buffy, but ten times worse. And different because, well, just because.
A woman's scream pierced the night.
Both Dawn and Dean's heads snapped in the direction it had come from.
"Son of a bitch-assed bitch." Dean spat. "Well, I think I know where the demon went."
"What fabulous detecting skills, Miss Veronica Mars."
Dean glared at her before he grabbed her arm and dragged her along behind him. "One of these days..."
"You're gonna put on your big girl panties?"
He whipped around and got in her face. "You're gonna get the ass whipping you so richly deserve, little girl."
"By you?" Dawn snorted loudly. "Ha! I could take you with my hands tied behind my back."
"Can you two quit flirting and come on! Demon, people in peril, any of this ringing any bells?" Sam shouted.
Dean made a noise of protest, as if to say he most certainly had not been flirting with Dawn.
Dawn grinned. "Keep telling yourself that, bitch." Then she slapped him hard on the butt before trotting off to Sam.
One of these days she and Dean were going to just break down and attack one another. Until then, she'd continue to push his buttons. It was going to be a beautiful explosion. She'd known that ever since she'd accidentally walked in on him in the shower. He might be a surly son of a bitch, but he was a HOT surly son of a bitch.
"Hey, you don't hit me." Dean snapped as he fell into step next to her. "It's a good thing my dad taught me not to hit girls. And who are you calling a bitch, bitch?"
"Dad taught you how not to hit girls, huh? I thought I was gonna get the richly-deserved whipping one day. Isn't whipping hitting? Have I been doing it wrong?"
Dean's eye twitched. She saw it out of the corner of her eye. Man, she loved messing with him. It was way more fun than messing with Buffy. Dean got so emotional about it, and plus, he was WAY more appealing to her than Buffy... because incest? Eww. Also, he was a dude and her sister was a girl, and Dawn was mostly definitely not gay. Plus Dean was mostly a tough guy that didn't do hugs or any sort of bonding, so his almost losing it from her little digs was great.
"You know what my dad taught me?" She asked. "How to walk away."
That said, she sped up to pace Sam.
"Bitch." Dean muttered.
"Takes one to know one, fucktard." She called over her shoulder.
Dean jogged forward to catch her arm and whipped her around. "Dammit, Dawn."
Sam even stopped to watch.
Dawn made her most innocent face. "Yes?"
"Why'd you have to go and make things so complicated?"
"Did you just quote an Avril Lavigne song?" She made a face. "Dude, that's weak."
His eye twitched again.
"Are you two done flirting?" Sam asked. "Can we go try again with the demon? There was screaming. It's this way, but only if you guys are finished."
"Just about." Dean muttered.
"Good." Sam said. "I'm gonna go on then. You two catch up in a minute."
Dawn snorted. "We're not finished? What else is left to say, whiny butt bag?"
"Son of a BITCH." Dean said before he grabbed the sides of her face and pulled her mouth to his.
*~*~*
end
