Author: kaly
Category: Gen; humor (Look, ma! No angst!)
Characters: Dean, Sam
Word Count: 2,220
Rating: K
Spoilers: none
Summary: Dean couldn't deal with it anymore, something had to be done - the Impala was filthy. (AKA - how the prank war got started.)
Note the second: geminigrl11 provided the beta - and is also the reason this story exists. One, I kinda lost a bet to her that entailed me writing a 1000+ word story. Two, she's really been persistent about wanting to read this particular plot - for months.
Disclaimer: Not mine. The pretty, snarky, angsty brothers belong to Kripke & the CW.
A Little Bit of Normal
They'd just finished a haunting - one of the easy, little cases that always seemed so few and far between of late - out in west Texas when Dean finally decided he couldn't deal with it anymore. Climbing out of the car, he grimaced at how between the dust and the sprinkling tease of rain that had fallen the night before, the car was filthy.
Walking into the motel room, Dean slammed the door behind him and said, "Sammy, up and at 'em!" They had no hunt - it was time to clean the car.
Dean placed two cups of coffee on the rickety table before dropping a fast food sack next to them. Glancing over at where Sam was still buried under the blankets, Dean couldn't help wondering at how someone who woke at the drop of a pin could sleep right through Dean's voice most days. Then again, most days Dean was just happy if the night was nightmare-free. At least those seemed to be getting more frequent.
He took a drink of his coffee and, inspiration striking, grinned as he put the cup back on the table. Grabbing the blanket in both hands, he gave them one hard tug, sending them flying from the bed and onto the floor. Sam jerked awake, half sitting up in the bed before Dean saw realization sink in that nothing was attacking. Well, nothing but his brother anyway.
Dean laughed at the glare Sam aimed at him, half hidden by his bangs. "Dude, what the hell?" Sam asked, rubbing his hands over his face.
Still laughing, Dean gestured toward the table. "Come on, sunshine, breakfast is served."
He moved back to the table, dropping his jacket across the back of the chair before sitting and pulling a biscuit out of the bag. He'd barely had time to take a bite when Sam asked, "It's not even seven a.m., Dean."
Shrugging, Dean took another bite. "Daylight's wasting."
"Thought the up at dawn thing was more my gig," Sam replied, though half the words were somewhat garbled by a yawn. When Dean didn't reply, rather just kept eating his breakfast, Sam untangled his legs from the sheets and moved - more like staggered, Dean couldn't help thinking - toward the bathroom.
When Sam finally reemerged, he looked a little less surly at being woken. He sat in the seat opposite Dean without speaking, breathing the coffee steam before taking a drink. Dean pushed the paper sack across the table before wadding his own wrapper into a ball and tossing it into the trashcan.
"So what's the plan for today? We hitting the road?" Sam asked after another couple of drinks of coffee. It always amused Dean how much more human Sam acted with a little java in his system.
Grinning, knowing the response his next comment was going to receive, Dean shook his head. "Not just yet. The car won't wash itself, you know."
Sam groaned, and when he spoke Dean knew he was dangerously close to whining. "Oh no, huh-uh, not that again."
"Yep, that," Dean replied, chucking. His little brother's hatred for all things auto maintenance most times even extended to washing the car. The fact that Dean himself had contributed to that by always making sure Sam ended up as wet as the car... Well, that was beside the point.
Standing, Dean moved toward the door. Over his shoulder, he said, "Come on, get dressed. Then we'll head over to that quarter carwash down the road." There was no point in even pretending they could leave town immediately afterwards. Hell, one of them - Sam - would probably end up walking back (to save the upholstery, of course) and having to change.
Finishing his breakfast, Sam leveled another sleepy glare at Dean before grabbing his clothes and toiletry bag and disappearing into the bathroom once more.
Dean knew without checking that the carwash kit was in the trunk of the car; tucked away next to the small tool kit he always carried with him. The Impala was too important a tool to their trade to risk the little things getting away from them - even dirt.
However, he couldn't remember how many towels were left - they always seemed to fare about as well as their clothes at being ruined and thrown away. Grinning, Dean grabbed a couple of things from the bed before walking out of the room to wait for Sam.
A few moments later, Dean started the car when Sam exited the room, locking the door behind him. There were no words spoken when Sam climbed in beside him, clearly grumpy at the early wake-up call on top of the inevitable dousing. All of which only served to amuse Dean more.
"Come on, dude, it's not that bad."
Sam's response was to cross his arms and look out the passenger window. Dean just laughed, punching a tape into the player, matching the drum beat on the steering wheel for the couple of minutes it took to reach the small do-it-yourself carwash.
Once there, Dean circled the small lot until he found a stall that looked clean enough - no junk or debris to risk the tires. Pulling into the bay, Dean killed the engine and got out. Within moments he had the trunk open and carwash kit out and sitting on the ground. He tossed the extra supplies he'd grabbed from the room into the bucket, followed by a generous amount of soap.
Extracting a couple of ones from his wallet, he handed them over to Sam. "Go get some change, would you?" To his surprise, Sam just nodded and disappeared around the corner to where the change machine was hidden. Couldn't hurt to have some extra quarters, just in case, especially as he only had one otherwise.
Dropping the quarter into the slot, Dean picked up the sprayer, filling the bucket before turning to wet the car. No half-assed sloppy automated soap for his baby, no way. They had the time to do it right and that was exactly how they were going to do it.
Luckily, he managed to get the entire car wet before the sprayer timed out. Downside of the cheap carwashes, Dean knew, was that you didn't get much time. He dropped the sprayer back into the slot and pulled the first rag out of the bucket. He'd just started running it along the side of the car when Sam came back around the corner.
"Get lost?" Dean asked, looking over his shoulder. Sam hated helping wash the car but he never actually resorted to running away from it either. After some of the more amusing car washing incidents of years past, that alone was a small miracle.
Shaking his head, Sam replied, "Damn machine didn't want to take one of the dollars. Took a bit to convince it otherwise."
Dean nodded distractedly, not doubting for a moment that might've been the case. His attention on the car, he saw, out of the corner of his eye, as Sam moved toward the bucket only to stop suddenly. "Dude, is that my t-shirt you're using?"
Looking at the soaked fabric in his hands, Dean bit his lip to keep from laughing. "This old thing? Just something I found in the room."
Sam pulled it out of his hands, holding it up where he could see it. "Yeah, in my duffle bag."
Grabbing it back, Dean started laughing as he returned to washing the car. "It'll wash, dude. Besides, wasn't like I was going to use one of mine." Wasn't exactly the first time he'd done it, either. And it would wash out. Probably. He hoped. It was worth it either way - it got a rise out of Sam every time and was guaranteed good for a laugh.
"Whatever," Sam said, rolling his eyes and turning back toward the bucket. Dean couldn't help pausing to watch when Sam reached into the soapy water only to pull out a sock next. "Dean!" he yelled, looking up quickly, dripping sock in hand.
Cracking up laughing, Dean rested his hands on his knees. Gasping for breath, he finally managed to say "Oh man, the look on your face." Which was the only reason he'd grabbed the socks - which were pretty much useless at actual cleaning.
"What am I supposed to wear?" he asked, pulling another sock from the bucket.
Returning to the car, Dean shrugged, still laughing. "Go barefoot, then, princess. Do those girly feet some good."
"Dude... I'm taking your socks."
Shaking his head, Dean kept grinning and replied, "Whatever. You gonna help wash or just stand there and pout?" He saw Sam grab one of the actual carwash rags and dunk it into the water and move toward the trunk.
Before long, they'd covered the entire car, wheels included, so that there was no sign of dust anywhere on the paint or chrome. Taking a step back, Dean dropped the shirt onto the ground beside the bucket. He held out a hand, curling his fingers, waiting until Sam dropped a couple of quarters onto his palm.
Soon enough, he'd restarted the water and was rinsing the soap from the car. He'd just circled around the front of the car when he noticed Sam standing behind the trunk, attention focused down the road staring at who knew what. Smiling, Dean found himself unable to resist the golden opportunity.
Careful to make sure he was far enough away - the high-pressure water hurt if you were standing too close - Dean turned the water toward his unsuspecting brother.
"Dean!" Sam cried, the ice cold water sprayed him from head to toe. Dean cackled at the expected yelp, followed immediately by Sam running out of range. "What is your problem?"
Still laughing, completely unrepentant, Dean continued rinsing the car, replying, "Sorry, thought I saw some dirt in your hair. Would it hurt you to wash that mop occasionally?"
Sam grabbed the bucket, full of soapy water and advanced toward his brother. "At least I can wash my hair," he said, before moving toward Dean.
Seeing the wicked glint in Sam's eyes, Dean dropped the water sprayer and ran around the opposite side of the car. He was doing good - still laughing at Sam's meager attempt to get him back - when he slipped on a puddle of soapy water, barely catching himself on the side of the car. Before he could get moving again he was doused with the contents of the bucket.
"Sad we can't say the same for your face" Sam added, smiling smugly as he ran out of range.
"Oh, this is war, little brother." Dean said, before running back to where the water nozzle was spraying wildly on the ground. He'd just aimed it at Sam's retreating back when Sam ducked on the other side of the car, and pulled the driver's door open.
"Drop the hose or I get in" Sam declared, grinning almost madly at having gotten one up on Dean for once.
Going still, no longer laughing, Dean blinked water out of his eyes. "You wouldn't," he said, moving down the side of the car, lifting the water sprayer as he went.
"Oh yeah?" Sam asked, laughing as he jumped into the driver's seat and pulled the door closed. "Nice upholstery!" he cried through the closed window, slapping his hand down on the lock before reaching across and locking the passenger door as well. Dean didn't even bother checking the back doors since they never left them unlocked.
Dean stood stock still, staring at Sam in disbelief. Seconds later when the water suddenly stopped, the only noise was the faint sounds of wet denim against the seat.
"Oh, just you wait," Dean said, suddenly laughing and changing tactics. "You have to get out of the car some time, Sammy, 'cause I've got the keys."
He grinned at the look on Sam's face, but was secretly amused by the fact Sam had actually gotten the drop on him for once. Not that he'd let it happen again, of course. And Sam would be helping clean the upholstery when they got back to the hotel and into dry clothes, no doubt about it.
"I'll be out here when you're ready to come out. Got a quarter left over and everything." He dug said quarter out of his pocket with his free hand, and held it up so that Sam could see it.
Dean leaned against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, but sprayer still in hand. Sam looked uncertain, considering, for a moment before his face set in a determined grin. Dean knew his little brother would probably out-stubborn him - waiting until Dean couldn't stand to see the soapy film drying on the car and the water was used up - before he would escape the car.
That was okay. Either way, it felt good to laugh and just be silly for a bit, like they hadn't really been able to since before Sam left for school. Made it feel like there was a small chance the future might not be all gloom and doom for them. And besides, they had all the time in the world.
It had been far too long since their last prank war, anyway.
end