Disclaimer: I don't own either of these fandoms! All material here is for entertainment purposed only.
Notes: So this is basically just Firefly with Supernatural characters…but also with a bunch of twists and changes that I thought would be fun to implement. You will see a decent amount of fandom merging. I'm hoping that this will eventually lead me to doing this for every episode of Firefly as well as the movie, and perhaps even more! Depends on how you guys like it. So enjoy!
Dean runs along the trenches as fire explodes on either side of him. Screams are heard all around him even with the blasts going off in his ears. Smoke, blood, chemicals, burning flesh, and gunpowder fill his nostrils to the point where he can taste it. But still he runs along filled with purpose and determination as he nears where he wants to be.
As another explosion goes off behind him he leaps into a trench and lands next to a tall soldier tending to another man: their sergeant.
"Sammy! I need a signal flare!" shouts Dean to the tall soldier, trying to be heard over the noise. But Sam heard him fine.
"I don't think…" suddenly the sergeant starts screaming, "Do you hear that?! Do you see?! They're coming!"
Both Dean and Sam look to where their sergeant is pointing to see a ship coming and their hearts sink. The ship isn't one of theirs. It's Garrison, which means this battle is lost. Dean simply shakes his head, gets up and walks away with parting words, "It's done. Let's see who is still with us."
They are all breathing heavy. It's the only sound they can hear from each other because of the desolate silence of space. Sam is holding a drill steadily to the blast door of a space storage unit. Sweat keeps getting in his eyes as well as his hair as he mentally thinks, "maybe I should get it cut soon." But Dean beat him to the thought.
"Hey Rapunzel, hurry up so we can get out of here and I can get a drink. Chuck must have given me a busted suit again. I'm hotter than a baby in a microwave right now."
"Both of you shut up and get this done. " A frustrated Meg piped in. Dean only grunted.
Taking a deep breath, Sam returned his focus to his drilling. He was almost through the door.
"Oh Doctor Sexy, you're so….sexy! So strong and sweet and tall and built. With your long flowing hair and cowboy boots. Not to mention that you're hung like a friggin' ho…"(beep beep beep)!
Trickster dropped his toy "action figure" quickly and turned to the monitor that broke into his alone time. Seeing that it is the proximity alarm he then turns to the radar to see a green blob moving quickly towards the ship.
"Well just color me puce and slap my junk." He says as he reaches quickly across his control panel to the comm and shouts a quick, "Dean!" into it.
Sam finally breaks through the door as it bangs into the empty hallway with a loud clang and a rush of gas. Oxygen was a good sign. The goods must still be intact, thought Sam. Entering the room, the three immediately see large crates safely tucked away in the corners of the room.
"Safe and sound and all ours for the taking! And you thought they would already be gone. Serves you right Sammy, not trusting your big brother," teased Dean as they moved further into the room.
"Yes Dean, you're brilliant. So brilliant that you make a living stealing other's possessions. Let's just grab these puppies and stuff them in the cargo hold so I can take off this frumpy suit," Megs voice sounds dry over the suits headsets of the brothers. And as soon as her voice cuts out, Trickster's loudly breaks in sounding annoyed. A sure sign that something big was wrong.
"Dean! Dean-o! Sammy-boy! Samalot! We got company. Get your tight behinds outta there now. It's a Garrison cruiser. "
"Retak menjilat", (crack lickers) Dean cursed. Immediately the three of them grabbed the nearest crate and stacked them on the dolly. Within 30 seconds, they were running back along the corridor and back into the safety of their home ship's hold. Dean sighed as he entered and took a grateful look around his beloved ship before barking out orders to Sam and Meg to put all of the crates into the hidey holes in the flanks of the hold.
"Dean, if they are here for the salvage then we are humped," Meg pointed out with an edge to her voice. Dean sighed for the second time, but more with frustration this time. He turns to the call box and yells into it.
"Trickster! Shut it down! Everything but the air."
The answering call, "Dead fish it is! Chuck! Let's smother this mother!" came a half a second later.
In the engine room a squirrely man covered in sweat and grease emerges from under the bright glowing core of the ship pulling levers and banging copper pieces as he comes out and trips almost instantly once back on the floor as he reaches for the call box. "Smothered!"
Back in the hold the lights dim and everyone on the ship holds their breath. They wait for a few minutes as the cruiser loomed closer. In the control room Trickster looked unblinkingly at the radar screen with the comm still in hand ready to report any developments. Eventually the cruiser is close enough that there is no doubt as to its goal. He breathes out a ,"shit", over the comm and it's enough for the rest of the crew to know what is happening outside of the ship. Tensely Dean reached for the call box again, "where is the cry-baby, Tricky?"
"Jeez Cap, give me a sec….and it's off! Cry baby, cry!" came the exasperated voice of the pilot.
Outside the ship a mish-mosh of a garbage can and wires is released letting out a distress call for all Garrison cruisers to hear and become lawfully if not morally obligated to follow. Sam, Dean, and Meg remain silent for few minutes as the item drifts further and further from the ship, hopefully drawing the cruiser with it. Sam is mentally counting in his head, seven Mississippi, eight Mississippi, nine Mississippi….
Dean remains stoic occasionally looking at his brother for signs of distress. His mental thoughts focused on his next escape plan if this one was to blow up in their faces. Looking at Meg just pisses him off because she just looks bored out of her mind as she fiddles with the ends of her hair.
Finally Tricksters voice is for once comforting and not annoying to Dean as he report, "Cat has taken the bait! Let's blow this joint!" And Dean knows that they are safe. For the third time that night he sighs.
"Alright guys, let's get paid."