denver_sinclair (denver_sinclair) wrote in fanficbylee,

Age and Treachery - Dean Winchester and Denver Sinclair

I wrote this fic last Christmas for salamet, and due to some senior moment did not post it here to the fic comm. So here it is now. It's her birthday today, and she's asked for a follow-up. Hopefully I'll remember to share that one with y'all.

Characters: The Winchester Brothers, Denver Sinclair (my original character)
Prompt: Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kick the shit out of you!
Wordcount: 888
Fic For: salamet

Age and Treachery will overcome youth and skill….

I rubbed the chalk on the end of my cue. The boy was staring at me over the edge of the pool table. I could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to figure out the angle of his next shot. He was good. You could tell just by watching his relaxed stance. But I knew he was trouble by the way he swaggered into the back room where I was shooting eight ball with my friend.

He was dangerous, but then so was I. The kid’s name was Dean Winchester. Ain’t too many of us supernatural types don’t know the name Winchester. I smiled as he sank the two ball after calling the shot. Course poor Dean didn’t know about me none. Far as he knew I was just some guy who wanted to play pool for money. He didn’t know I was a vampire. Poor little hunter.

“Careful now,” I drawled right as he hunkered down for the next shot. “Y’all don’t want to miss and lose anymore of your money.”

There was a stack of twenties on a rickety stool across from the table where the boy’s brother was watching. I could see that one didn’t much care for his brother betting their last dime on beating me. He kept shooting me dirty looks every time I sank one. This was the third game. I’d let my money ride. I even let the hunter win the last game, but he was going to scratch soon then it’d be my turn to run the table.

Weren’t his fault mind you, I just had about a century of experience on him. I also liked to cheat. I hunkered down myself, across the felt from Dean. I tapped my blue stained finger near the edge of the table, leading his eyes to lock with mine like a cobra and a mongoose. With a gentle push of my will, I touched his mind. Time for you to scratch boy.

Dean’s next shot bounced along the angles of the bumpers just the way he’d planned until the last second when the white cue ball followed his ball into the depth of the corner pocket. “Damn would you look at that.” I clapped him on the shoulder as I lined up my own shot. “I thought for sure you’d have sunk that one.”

With a smirk, I tossed back a shot of JD, and started running the table. Dean had to stop watching me when I only had two stripes left to go. I could hear him and Sam arguing behind me about losing all their money.

“Come on Sam. Sometimes I lose.”

“What are we going to buy gas with Dean?” The other Winchester snorted as I sank the next to last ball. “Another of your fake credit cards?” These boys had so much to learn about scraping by. If they weren’t hunters, and out for the blood of me and my kind, I might have offered to help them. Let them learn from the master so to say.

“Eight ball, side pocket,” I said as I sank her. I picked up the money. It was enough for me to get to the next town, and that much closer to getting back to Vegas where I belonged.

“How about three out of five?” Dean asked with an innocent look on his face. It wasn’t quite begging but it was close.

“That would only work if y’all had anything left to lose,” I told him. I glanced out the dirty window of the bar, and looked at his big black Impala parked next to my Mustang. “We could always go on out there and race for pink slips?”

“Over my dead body,” Dean stammered. He finished his beer and stomped out into the night Sam following along behind him still bitching about the money.

“Are you sure? This is a fine lookin’ car you got here,” I said as I ran my fingers down the side of the Impala.

“Get your hands off my car,” Dean snarled and pulled a cross from inside of his jacket. Now I did not see that coming. “Fucking tick.”

“Tick?” I raised my hands and backed up into the driver’s side of my pony. “Don’t know what y’all are talkin’ ‘bout.”

Dean pressed the cross into my face, and I lost control. I flashed him a mouthful of fangs as I tried to slip away, but Sam was waiting for me on the other side with a crossbow aimed at my chest. I felt the crossbow bolt bury itself in my shoulder.

“Dead man’s blood!” Sam shouted at me as he raised the crossbow again. “There was dead man’s blood on the arrow.”

“So?” I cocked my head. My fangs were gone, and I was back to my normal charming self. “I ain’t that kind of vampire boy. Now let’s just call this even, and we’ll all be on our merry way.”

Turning from Sam, I backhanded the cross out of Dean’s hand. It spun through the darkness to land somewhere in the pothole strewn parking lot. Grabbing Dean by the collar I tossed him onto the hood of the Impala. “Now tell me why I don’t beat the livin’ shit out of you and your bother?”
Tags: dean winchester, denver and dean, denver sinclair, original fic, spn
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