lucifersprize (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lucifersprize) wrote2018-11-06 11:36 pm
lucifersprize) wrote2018-11-06 11:36 pm
Entry tags:
Eligible to Vote (SPN ficlet, Gen)
Good grief - two ficlets in two days. I may be a little faint.
Written for the spn_darkside Midterms Special Discussion: Polling Day on politics and voting, canon and headcanon in the Supernatural verse where there is some great discussion and opinions going on and another great ficlet by Fufaraw - Volunteers
There is still time to hop on over and give your take on it all or link us to your election day Sam, Dean, Jensen and Jared creations x
Title: Eligible to Vote
Rating: Gen. Suitable for all.
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Description: S14. A short election day ficlet
Warnings: er none, politics?
Length: 657 words
Disclaimer: This is all fiction folks. Neither the boys or their world belong to me. I'm playing for fun, not profit.
Knock, knockity, knock
Knock
Sam frowns, whoever is at the bunker door isn’t giving up. He stomps up the stairs, and rips the door open with an angry, “Why don’t you guys ever call ahead?”
Everyone in the bunker goes silent, either Maggie or Riley is getting a beat down and they are grateful its not them.
A little grey haired lady practically falls backwards from the door. She’s got a blue rinse, is wearing a giant purple rosette and is carrying a clipboard. She recovers her stance quickly enough to hiss at a thin and smartly suited man beside her, “I told you so.” She smiles sweetly at Sam and checks her clipboard. “We have a Dean Campbell, Bobby Singer, Jack Kline and Jimmy Novak registered with the party and since it is polling day, this is a courtesy call to check if any of you would like a ride to cast your ballot.” She points at a family size station wagon parked by the side of the Impala.
“You who? You what?” stammers Sam, gaping at them. He hears Dean climb the stairs behind him, feels his presence at his shoulder.
“It’s very important to vote, it’s the only way to ensure your voice is heard, Mr… er,” the slim man falters.
“I’m not getting in that!”Dean exclaims.
“Smith,” says Sam simultaneously, and thankfully more loudly. “Mr. Smith, consulting engineer on this project. Just doing some repairs to the old place, y’know. Sorry, I think you’ve been pranked.”
“Oh!” She seems like a sweet old lady and her disappointment sounds genuine. “Well, if you do know any of those gentlemen, do remind them that the polling station will close at eight and they should probably arrive an hour earlier. Our candidate is committed to local employment and healthcare for all.”
“Just working on the capacitors, have to get back to it,” Sam lies, closing the door as the slim man tries to poke his head inside for a look.
“Not voting for that candidate,” adds Dean with conviction, “He’s a demon. I mean a literal demon!”
Sam cringes, the door is still a fraction ajar and the little old lady is looking upset. “Sorry. Y’know how it is, working hard, kidding everyone. Gotta go now.” The door clangs shut.
“Who the hell registered this address for voting?” Sam rages.
Dean tiptoes away from him down the stairs, Bobby scratches his head and looks away.
“It was a case,” Bobby tells him nervously.
“Guns. They are going to take our guns!” Dean says, at the same time.
“We were going to tell you Chief, we’ve been tracking a demon, but we didn’t know for sure that he was possessing the candidate until today,” offers another hunter.
“You let them do this?” Sam asks Dean.
Dean shuffles his feet, “Well, yeah, but I didn’t know we would actually be registered. I mean I remembered the stuff Charlie and Frank showed us, but I didn’t think it would work that well. We only wanted an in to the local party offices.”
Sam narrows his eyes at him, “And?” he asks, “You gave them our real address.”
“The other candidate wants to take away our guns. We can’t hunt without guns,” he pauses and adds, panicked, “My grenade launcher!”
Sam, rolls his eyes, “Well then, better get this party moving. Grab angel blades, holy water and phone exorcisms. Time to vote.”
“Really?” say Bobby, Jack and Dean, together.
“Yes. And then we’ve got a demon to send back to Hell. Y’all better pray the body it’s possessing is alive.”
Dean smirks fondly at his little brother. “I love it when you take control, Sammy.”
“When we get back, you will be wiping every trace of our zip code from everywhere.”
“Does that mean we can’t order pizza in any more?” Dean asks him.
“What?!” Sam gasps.
“What?” Mimics Dean, rushing away to grab his gear.
Written for the spn_darkside Midterms Special Discussion: Polling Day on politics and voting, canon and headcanon in the Supernatural verse where there is some great discussion and opinions going on and another great ficlet by Fufaraw - Volunteers
There is still time to hop on over and give your take on it all or link us to your election day Sam, Dean, Jensen and Jared creations x
Title: Eligible to Vote
Rating: Gen. Suitable for all.
Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester
Description: S14. A short election day ficlet
Warnings: er none, politics?
Length: 657 words
Disclaimer: This is all fiction folks. Neither the boys or their world belong to me. I'm playing for fun, not profit.
***
Knock, knock. Knock, knockity, knock
Knock
Sam frowns, whoever is at the bunker door isn’t giving up. He stomps up the stairs, and rips the door open with an angry, “Why don’t you guys ever call ahead?”
Everyone in the bunker goes silent, either Maggie or Riley is getting a beat down and they are grateful its not them.
A little grey haired lady practically falls backwards from the door. She’s got a blue rinse, is wearing a giant purple rosette and is carrying a clipboard. She recovers her stance quickly enough to hiss at a thin and smartly suited man beside her, “I told you so.” She smiles sweetly at Sam and checks her clipboard. “We have a Dean Campbell, Bobby Singer, Jack Kline and Jimmy Novak registered with the party and since it is polling day, this is a courtesy call to check if any of you would like a ride to cast your ballot.” She points at a family size station wagon parked by the side of the Impala.
“You who? You what?” stammers Sam, gaping at them. He hears Dean climb the stairs behind him, feels his presence at his shoulder.
“It’s very important to vote, it’s the only way to ensure your voice is heard, Mr… er,” the slim man falters.
“I’m not getting in that!”Dean exclaims.
“Smith,” says Sam simultaneously, and thankfully more loudly. “Mr. Smith, consulting engineer on this project. Just doing some repairs to the old place, y’know. Sorry, I think you’ve been pranked.”
“Oh!” She seems like a sweet old lady and her disappointment sounds genuine. “Well, if you do know any of those gentlemen, do remind them that the polling station will close at eight and they should probably arrive an hour earlier. Our candidate is committed to local employment and healthcare for all.”
“Just working on the capacitors, have to get back to it,” Sam lies, closing the door as the slim man tries to poke his head inside for a look.
“Not voting for that candidate,” adds Dean with conviction, “He’s a demon. I mean a literal demon!”
Sam cringes, the door is still a fraction ajar and the little old lady is looking upset. “Sorry. Y’know how it is, working hard, kidding everyone. Gotta go now.” The door clangs shut.
“Who the hell registered this address for voting?” Sam rages.
Dean tiptoes away from him down the stairs, Bobby scratches his head and looks away.
“It was a case,” Bobby tells him nervously.
“Guns. They are going to take our guns!” Dean says, at the same time.
“We were going to tell you Chief, we’ve been tracking a demon, but we didn’t know for sure that he was possessing the candidate until today,” offers another hunter.
“You let them do this?” Sam asks Dean.
Dean shuffles his feet, “Well, yeah, but I didn’t know we would actually be registered. I mean I remembered the stuff Charlie and Frank showed us, but I didn’t think it would work that well. We only wanted an in to the local party offices.”
Sam narrows his eyes at him, “And?” he asks, “You gave them our real address.”
“The other candidate wants to take away our guns. We can’t hunt without guns,” he pauses and adds, panicked, “My grenade launcher!”
Sam, rolls his eyes, “Well then, better get this party moving. Grab angel blades, holy water and phone exorcisms. Time to vote.”
“Really?” say Bobby, Jack and Dean, together.
“Yes. And then we’ve got a demon to send back to Hell. Y’all better pray the body it’s possessing is alive.”
Dean smirks fondly at his little brother. “I love it when you take control, Sammy.”
“When we get back, you will be wiping every trace of our zip code from everywhere.”
“Does that mean we can’t order pizza in any more?” Dean asks him.
“What?!” Sam gasps.
“What?” Mimics Dean, rushing away to grab his gear.
~end~