Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, Teen Wolf, or their characters - I'm just borrowing them. I'm not making any commercial gain. No harm or infringement intended.
E/O Challenge: a number. Sam's still stuck as a cat, but now he's injured. Dean takes him to the Beacon Hills Veterinary Clinic. Continues the occasional 'Sam as a Cat' series started in "Animal Magic: Tomcat". Pure nonsense. Supernatural/Teen Wolf crossover. 400 words.
Happy New Year!
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Got Your Number
Sam meowed pitifully from the depths of the cramped, hastily-borrowed cat carrier with a combination of the horror of being brought to a vet and the pain of a rose thorn stuck in his paw.
Dean could only blame himself; he was the one who'd told Cas to take back the lilies the angel had bought, as they're poisonous to cats, and exchange them for something else. Sheesh... flowers... at this rate he'll soon have us picking out curtains together...
At the sound of another piteous yowl, Dean double-checked that the cage was actually shut properly this time. "Don't be such a big baby," he muttered. Not for the first time, Dean wondered how Sam could be brought low by a single flower only days after being bad-ass enough to singlehandedly (singlepawedly?) take out a couple of hellhounds all on his own.
Speaking of which. He smiled in apology at the owner of the Labrador that was now cowering with fear in the corner of the waiting room.
He took a number and sat down, as far from the glowering dog owner as possible, next to a surly looking guy in a black leather jacket with what looked like a fox asleep on his lap.
Dean snorted with laughter as he glanced down at his ticket. "Sixty-nine!" he smirked, showing the ticket to 'surly guy', who just raised an impressive set of eyebrows in a 'so what?' expression.
The fox woke with a yip of surprise, doing its best to jump up and down with excitement, despite the hindrance of a poorly bandaged leg. Surly guy tapped the fox on the nose, which seemed to have the desired effect of quietening it down. The animal returned an open-mouthed look of outraged offense, but wilted under the man's unrelenting stare and reluctantly settled back down to sleep with a weary sigh.
Dean blinked and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. I must be tired, for a second I could've sworn the guy's eyes glowed red.
Surly guy looked from his fox to the cat now peering out in curiosity from the cage resting on Dean's lap. "She got you too, huh?" he said with obvious surprise. "I hate witches."
Dean nodded cautiously, unsure how to respond.
"I love how he's quieter this way, though," added the guy with a feral grin, belied by the way he ruffled the fox's fur.
(;,;)