Winchesters Walk into a Bar…
Disclaimer: This story is intended for entertainment purposes only and provides absolutely no financial compensation. Recognizable characters belong to their prospective owners/writers. Some lines from the show are used either as is or altered to fit the story.
In plain speak: I don’t own anything, just my imagination.
AN: My answer to a prompt request I made on LJ and Wize responded. Much thanks to Strangevisitor
for her invaluable beta skills and gentle insistence that I make sense. Thanks to MusesInspiration
for her support and encouragement.
prompts: Spike meets Dean and Sam. peanuts, darts, "it's all in the way you word it."
From his spot at the end of the bar, he watched them enter; the taller of the two was well over six foot, but seemed oddly smaller than the cocky one leading the way.
Spike nodded to the bartender and took over, allowing Pete to slip into the back. The young Brachen demon had a tendency to get nervous around Hunters and these two had the look in spades. No sense in exposing the bar to green skin and spikes due to a case of nerves. Why their kind always chose his bar was ever a source of curiosity. There was a bloody biker bar two miles down the way. He waited as the men approached the bar.
He pushed a new bowl of peanuts toward them. “What’ll ya ‘ave?”
The two men settled at the bar. Spike smiled as their scents washed over him, bringing up old memories with its familiarity.
The taller one peered at him through shaggy bangs and returned the smile. “Beer thanks. In a bottle?”
Spike pulled a longneck out of the cooler with a nod. He eyed the other man as he set a shot glass on the bar. Smirking hazel eyes squinted with amusement and then widened with surprise as he watched Spike pour two fingers of Jameson 12. He nodded to the older brother as he lifted his in a silent salute.
He kept eye contact with Dean as he downed his shot, setting his glass on the bar surface with a quiet click. Never thought he’d have John’s two boys in his bar. Sam was eyeing him closely and Spike noticed the twenty on the bar and pushed it back at him. “Don’t want your money mate. Your Da was a good man.”
Spike watched as Dean hesitated. The grip on the shot glass that was halfway to his mouth suddenly white knuckled. The younger Winchester shifted and Spike flicked his gaze over the man, clamping down on his demon’s response to the darkness it sensed in him. It seemed that what John’d been afraid of might have happened after all. Whether it controlled Sam or Sam had learned to control it remained to be seen and Spike truly hoped Sam was in the driver’s seat.
Spike reached under the bar and quirked his brow at the brothers when they stiffened defensively. He pulled out a set of darts and held them out to Dean and titled his head toward the board on the wall. “Up for a game, mate?” He asked, breaking the tension growing between them. The brothers looked toward the dartboard and then the rack of pool cues hanging on the wall before turning back to him with curious gazes. “Fight broke out the other night. Some arsehole killed the billiard table. Darts is all we got ‘til Monday. I figure we have a few things to talk about.”
Dean nodded warily as he took the proffered darts.
Spike called through the kitchen door and called Pete back to man the bar.
Spike lined up his first shot and deliberately missed, the point hitting just over the line outside.
Dean grinned. “You wanna play for money?”
Spike returned the grin with a smile of his own and shook his head. “Learned the hard way to never bet against a Winchester.” Sam made a choking sound that sounded like a muffled laugh and Spike noticed the young man was trying to keep a straight face. An inquisitive gleam shone brightly in his green eyes and Spike hoped that the youngest Winchester would be more like Dawn than Andrew in his curiosity.
Arms wrapped around his shoulders and Spike knew it was Dawn before her warm lips pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. Her voice whispered, “Ooh, who’re your new friends? The tall one’s cute.”
Just his luck Bite Sized took an instant liking to the one most likely to turn evil. Summers’ luck runs true. He aimed a glare at her laughing eyes and shook his finger at her. “No. Not even over my dead body. Besides, you’re sister would kill me for sure.”
“My sister would kill you whether you let me talk to Mr. Salty Goodness or not. She thinks you’re dead, remember?” She responded with a wry tone and giggled when she noticed the object of her interest had muffed his shot, the dart sticking into the pocked wood that the board hung on. He was looking at her with startled eyes and from the corner of his eye; Spike saw her grin at Sam. The boy’s pupils dilated as she moved toward him and Spike muffled a defeated groan. He’d promised John that he’d help the boys if they ever approached him and tearing Sam’s throat out for showing an interest in Dawn didn’t fit into that category. Bollocks.
Spike glanced at Dean and huffed in controlled laughter at the huge smile on the man’s face as he watched his brother try to talk to Dawn without stepping on his tongue. Dean tilted his head at Spike.
“Dude. Think I need to get another room tonight cuz…” He stopped when Spike’s hand rose in a shushing gesture.
“Don’t finish that thought, Mate.” Dean shot him a questioning look and Spike rolled his eyes. “It’s all in the way you word it. Dawn’s like a little sis to me right? So you finishin’ that question would force me to go all protective like. Dawn would get pissy since she’s hiding out from her sister because the daft idiot won’t let her date and I’d be breakin’ the promise I made to your Da.”
Dean opened his mouth and Spike knew the time for fun and games was over. He smiled at Dean and waved him over to the employee table. It was spelled for privacy since most of his customers had better than human hearing and Spike braced himself for a long interrogation.
He poured out a measure of whiskey for both of them and took a sip. Spike could tell Dean was trying to be patient and he smiled to himself before starting. “Met your Da in New Mexico while visitin’ my friend Clem…”