Okay folks, so I guess tonight on RAW we'll figure out a bit more about the Dean situation…or not…or whatever. Who really knows? But the good news is I have another Shield one shot, because this is one world that Dean is definitely not leaving!
Rebel8954, Ha I know I was mean to Seth there, but I just liked the idea of the cat swiping at him. What can I say?! I imagine Stephanie and Hope would eyeball each other, have a silent conversation and come to the understanding that they are basically the same entity. They would definitely have mutual respect!
Wolfgirl2013, Thank you!
Minnie1015, I know, cuteness abounds! You know me, I'm a dog gal too, but as much as I wanted him to, I figured that it would be irresponsible for Dean to adopt a dog when he's barely ever home. So a grouchy cat it is then! There will be more of Hope in later stories too. She's a fully-fledged new character!
Mandy, Aww glad you liked it. I felt like it was about time that Dean had a bit of company in the apartment, plus it shows he's getting over his grief (sort of in teeny tiny little baby steps) and of course his girl had a hand in it all. Glad you're feeling a little bit better and don't worry about the bad days, gradually there will be less and less of those.
Cheryl24, Well I figured Dean needed a cute chapter after the whole show down with his dad and nearly getting eaten by a tiger and everything. What better way than cuddles with a kitty? Also, Hope will return in the future too!
SkittlezLvr79, You are very welcome, even though I'm a dog lover, I really liked writing Dean with Hope…so much so that there's another story with the two of them coming up in the not too distant future. Also, I couldn't resist her not liking Seth, seems like it would be his luck!
Wrestlingfanforever, Poor Dean was long overdue some company at home, so he had to have a cat really. It was a story begging to be told! As for the backup he calls in on this chapter, well, you'll just have to read and find out (hope you like it!)
Not-that-kinda-gurl, Sometimes I just have a yen to write a super cute fluffy chapter and this was it. Cats and Deans…nothing cuter! As for Roman's daughter, I'm actually writing another oneshot with her in it now, so look out for that in a couple of weeks!
Skovko, Animals are the best, even though my dog loves everyone and never stops! He will only curl up next to me though and pass out asleep so that's pretty special. Dean definitely needed some of that, although Hope (who will appear again) is going to continue to be a handful, but, I mean, it's Dean so why would it go smooth?!
Debwood-1999, Yep, Dean now has a snuggle buddy…even if she can be a little bit mean at times! Plus we know real life Dean loves animals and so do I so I just had to write it down. Hope will be back in various stories so look out for our brand new addition to this little AU world!
By the way this might be one of my favourites…
The Shield Unscripted: The Empress Of Tomorrow
The museum was pretty much filled to the freaking rafters with well-dressed rich people.
Or not the rafters perhaps, because it didn't have any of those. Instead it had a great big domed crystal glass skylight and a plasterwork ceiling that looked like a wedding cake and which then flowed down into the tall marble columns and the arches and staircases that made the building's structure up.
Dean clarified his point.
The museum was filled to the skylight with well-dressed rich people. And also him. Not so rich, but well-dressed at least which was probably the main thing although...
Newsflash. Dean Ambrose fucking hated bow ties.
As a server passed by with a tray of champagne flutes — which were hardly much better but alcoholic if nothing else — Dean swapped his empty for another topped up one and then tapped the hidden mike in his buttonhole.
His buttonhole.
"Hey, are two there or did you go out for freakin' caviar? Because m' not exactly hearin' a whole lot right now an' I need some pointers here. Like, who do I talk to an' what do I say to 'em, an' that kinda shit."
Because frankly when it came to infiltrating drug gangs and mob groups, or killers and organ traffickers and their ilk, Dean needed little to no help integrating. But stood in the middle of the fucking glitterati chatting about country clubs and paintings and crap, he was about as clued in as a nun in a brothel and he damn well felt like it too.
He tapped the mike again,
"Hey."
God damn it.
How in the hell had he even ended up there? Well, okay, he knew that part. Because it was his job. But going in blind had never been part of the agreement. Although relatively speaking he had been in worse scrapes and remembering that he threw his champagne back wholesale and then stepped towards a group who were looking at a…
Thing.
Dean blinked. What was that? Was that a freaking portrait? Because it looked like the artist had seizured mid stroke and yet there it was. Hung up in the museum. Being cooed over.
"I agree," a man offered as he trampled in closer and for no particular reason Dean decided to call him Charles, "This piece is actually one of his better received works. Painted in the last few days of his life and an absolutely beautiful portrait."
Dean snorted. Loudly which was probably a mistake since a woman who was practically dripping with pearls beside him turned in curiosity and then a noticeable measure of lust. Great. Just what he needed.
"So I'm guessing you're not a such a big fan of The Night of Champions?"
Dean frowned at her,
"The what?"
"The painting," she blinked back, looking confused, since why the hell would he even be there if he wasn't an uber rich artsy fartsy type and so to that end Dean cleared his throat and then tried to sound clever. Which would have been freaking easier if his earpiece worked okay. He scratched at his neck and then decided it looked too street dog so offered up a cavalier shrug instead,
"Its okay, but I prefer like, his earlier, uh, you know art stuff."
"Oh, which one do you like?"
"Um..."
One by one all of the snooty eyes spun back to him and he swallowed and then tried to think of something erudite to say. He might have even managed it too — or well, maybe — except that suddenly his earpiece screamed back into life. No really. It freaking screamed. In a high pitch god damn screech noise which nearly blew out his eardrums and then seriously loosened his tongue which was the worst part. At least for everyone else there as he bellowed a word.
"Fuck."
Holy crap he could have heard a pin drop. Well, except for the fact that had recently gone deaf. As everyone blinked there was a voice across the earpiece. Gruff and confused sounding.
"Ambrose, are you there? God damn it Steph, I can't hear a thing through these. Ambrose. Dean are you there son?"
It was Vince.
Their technologically challenged freaking mayor, who was sat outside in their rickety surveillance van and who was meant to be feeding him art history factoids. But instead was evidently bickering with his daughter and trying to freaking kill their city's undercover man.
Jesus freaking Christ.
Dean missed Seth and Roman. But his brothers were both bundled up in their beds, running high fevers and sneezing and coughing which meant that he had been forced into calling backup in and which, to be honest he was already regretting.
"Ambrose are you there son? Pa. This damn thing is broken. What does this red light over here mean? Ambrose? Ambrose?"
Geez.
"Press the green button dad."
Fighting to ignore the god damn McMaddams family and the possible line of blood trickling out of his ear, Dean offered a grin towards the gaping crowd in front of him and then gestured towards the painting with his empty champagne glass.
"Uh, sorry 'bout that, but like, I just freakin' got it an' I uh, I guess in the emotion I got carried away. Um, think m' just gonna go an' you know, like, think about it. Uh, over here."
Smooth.
They watched him haul ass away and then possibly even saw him leave his glass on a statue, except luckily by that point he had begun to not care. Damn stupid diamond. Because that was the problem. The museum was unveiling a newly purchased cut gem at the exact same freaking time that Suplex City was experiencing a wave of cat burglaries from a shadowy thief, who had managed to completely outfox the authorities and who called herself The Empress. Or the jackass according to Dean, since he blamed her entirely for the whole situation.
Meanwhile Vince was still rumbling at him,
"Ambrose?"
"Hold on," Dean snapped back before sliding in behind a pillar beside a statue and an Ancient Egyptian casket of some sort, "Okay m' here. I mean, m' actually freakin' deaf now but m' here or whatever. You got any updates?"
It was Steph who replied, which was probably a good thing since her pain in the ass father would be freaking blacklisted from there on in.
Stupid Vince.
"Nothing that we can see out on the perimeter and our officers are reporting that all the entrances are clear, so if she is even thinking of targeting the diamond then she's not inside the building. But I'm still not sure she'll come. On the opening night? Even for her that seems risky."
Dean shook his head,
"Oh she'll be here alright. This is her chance to show the world how damn good she is. Takin' that diamond in front of a big crowd an' all the security this place has laid on? Nah, she's comin'."
"How's it looking in there?"
"Pretentious."
Dean meant that in the literal sense too, since there was an elderly woman standing across from him wearing actual freaking fur and peering through theatre glasses at a naked marble statues and in particular its smooth but small looking dick. Back on the line he heard the boss roll her eyes at him.
Probably.
"I meant how is the operation looking in there? But it's nice to know that you're enjoying the finer things."
He could tell that she was smirking. He could hear it in her voice and in the way she had bitten her lip earlier when he had clattered into the van wearing the stupid rented tux and with a face like thunder because he had and still did feel like a tool of the highest order and yet here she was. The police Commissioner of Suplex freaking enjoying his embarrassment.
Fuck.
He missed Seth and Roman real bad. Or at the very least wished he had taken one of their sneezes so that he could have rain checked the damn case as well.
He checked his watch.
It was only five minutes until showtime when the cover would be pulled from the bells and whistles cabinet the museum had installed in the middle of the lobby floor, so that the large and totally stealable diamond could be seen by everyone that stepped through the door. Somewhere in the background Vince barked an aha noise and then came through the earpiece.
Five minutes too late.
"Okay Ambrose son, now there's a painting up there somewhere that could be a talking point for your whole uncover thing. Its by R. V. Dam and its called The Night of Champions."
"Oh come on are you freakin' kiddin' me with this?"
Dean banged a palm into the middle of his forehead and then considered trying to break it through some glass in the hopes that a concussion would let him tap out on the whole thing, but he was luckily interrupted by a loudspeaker overhead that cut through the chatter and chinking of champagne flutes and set up a buzz of excitement.
This was it.
"Ladies and gentlemen, if I could please have your attention, the world famous Hogan Diamond is about to be unveiled, so if you could all make your way down to lower level of the lobby the presentation can commence."
People downed their drinks at once and then began to push in a clamor of tuxedos and expensive evening dresses towards the grand sweeping stairs. Dean kept where he was and tapped on the earpiece.
"Steph?"
"Receiving you loud and clear Ranger One."
He grinned at that part, because it may have been possible that at some point he had told her that he and the guys used special names whenever they were using their top secret surveillance tech and which clearly she hadn't thought to question at all.
"Looks like there goin' to unveil the freakin' diamond, so you're probably gonna wanna keep your eyes peeled out there."
"Copy Ranger One."
Ha.
Dean bit a childish snort back then snuck out from behind the pillar onto the grandiose galleried landing that overlooked the newly packed out lobby down below, where anyone and everyone had hastily gathered and which gave him a near perfect view of them all. It also gave him a view the big glass cabinet in the centre, being covered by a cloth and bathed in heavy spotlight glow and he narrowed his eyes and then glanced around the levels as he looked for their cat burglar.
"Come out asshole."
Beneath him the museum curator held a hand up for silence and everyone shut up in anticipation,
"Thank you. Now, earlier this year an exciting prospect arose for us. The chance to purchase the magnificent Hogan gem. The largest blue tinted diamond in existence, once thought to have belonged to King Louis the Twelfth and more recently owned by the Hogan estate."
Dean tensed.
Because his long time policeman senses were tingling. He could practically feel shit about to go down and so he drew out his gun and kept it low beneath the balustrade as the curator reached for the cloth.
"And now here it is…"
The crowd let out a healthy sort of ooh of appreciation as the centrepiece was finally fully unveiled, complete with the glint of the gem cut catching the spotlights but with no cat burglar.
Huh.
Dean was surprised about that.
"Boss?"
"Go ahead Rang…"
"Can you see anythin' out there? I mean, like anythin' on the screens, or out the front or anywhere?"
"Everything seems clear," Stephanie answered. She sounded pleased by that although her operative was not. Something was wrong. They had been so damn certain that The Empress would be there and would strike for the gem. Frankly he would have staked his reputation on it. So then where the hell was she?
He watched the security guards stand down and then lose their focus for a freaking fraction of a second and...
"Oh fuck."
CRASH.
Pieces of skylight exploded around him as somebody burst in through from up on the roof and in response to it the gathered crowd of rich folk screamed in unison and then began to run for cover from the shower of glass, scattering like ants and creating the perfect cover for the actual grappling rope that uncoiled down. Dean raised his gun towards the ceiling and waited. But then came the smoke canisters.
"Damn it."
"Ambrose what's going on? Do you need backup?"
He grunted,
"Give me a sec...fuck."
The curse was in response to a slinky black clad figure flashing right past his eyeballs and straight down the rope faster than he could both aim and shoot at them and right towards the gem into the smoke cloud.
"Ambrose?"
"Get the troops in here Steph," Dean barked sharply as he took off along the gallery at a hell for leather run and then turned the corner in a skid towards the staircase. Not that he meant to skid like a five year old, but the damn dress shoes he was wearing had no freaking grip and which meant that he arrived at the top of the cascade all legs and arms like fucking Bambi on ice.
There were people screaming and pushing up past him and okay, so maybe his gun didn't help, but he elbowed his way through them and then stepped into the smoke cloud trying hard to peer through it.
Crap.
"Stop her. She has the gem."
Changing his course he trampled in towards the shrieking and then stumbled, almost literally, across the curator from before who was stood by the cabinet with his head in his hands brokenly. Or make that he was stood beside the wide open cabinet. The wide open and empty cabinet, because yep. She had the gem.
"Did you see which way she went dude?"
"Uh…" the curator blinked at him, probably partly because of the shock, but also likely because he had never been called dude before and certainly not by a man in a tuxedo holding a gun.
Dean barked at him,
"Come on."
"She went that way," the man squeaked pointing a trembly sort of finger in the direction of a corridor branching off to their right, above the door of which and through the fast clearing smoke cloud there was a sign that read Ancient Egypt and Mesopotamia.
Okay.
"Hang there," Dean growled setting off in a sprint towards it, but calling back over his shoulder, "And send the freakin' cops this way."
Then he charged from the chaos and the screaming of the lobby into the dark enclosed corridor with his gun pointed high.
On each side there were display cases leading into the Egyptian rooms, filled with creepy floor to ceiling scenes from Ancient life. On his left there was a pale unblinking dummy in a headdress with a mural of the pyramids being erected behind and on his right was an actual fricking mummy in a casket which he shuddered at then rapidly retrained his eyes.
"Fuck."
It was not a good time to remember the Kevin thing and so clearing his throat he chose wisely to press on.
Beyond him the corridor opened out into a larger room, but because of the collection it was shrouded in dark with the only real light trickling out of the cabinets and painting cat burglar looking shapes across the floor. Dean narrowed his eyes at each of them suspiciously but then heard faint laughter and so rose his gun.
Bingo.
"This is the police. Put your hands up an' step out. Nice an' easy now. No bein' a freakin' hero."
Two people skittered out, neither of them looking a lot like a cat burglar or with a rare blue diamond beneath their arm. Because instead Dean found himself blinking at a couple. Young and flashy looking so probably rich and both of them smeared in the rouge of her lipstick which explained what they'd been up to.
Dean made a face. Eww.
"Oh come on, seriously? Freakin' surrounded by ancient dead guys? Go on, get outta here ya damn horny kids."
He gestured with the gun and the couple scuttled off hastily looking shame faced towards the lobby beyond. But probably not shame faced enough to stop their heavy petting. Dean would probably find them grinding on a dinosaur later on. He frowned at them both but then was suddenly distracted by a flickering shadow on the far side of the room and turned just in time to see his freaking cat burglar sliding through a door.
Oh god damn it.
"Police," he barked again, as he took off behind her and punched the hidden microphone, "Hey boss are you there? Because I could really kinda use that freakin' backup about now."
"It's nearly with you Ambrose."
He blinked.
Steph sounded out of breath, but he pushed that thought back as he moved out of Ancient Egypt into a behind the scenes holding room instead, packed full of bubble wrapped treasures and trinkets, not to mention a cat burglar trying to bust through an exit door. He raised his gun.
Gotcha.
"Alright Duchess, fuckin' hold it."
"I am The Empress."
"Huh?"
Dean screwed his face up at that and then lifted his brows almost clear off his forehead as the thief spun back around to face him with a scowl. She had black paint smeared in a streak across her features and heavily made up eyes and...was that red and blue hair? As he blinked at her she took a half a step towards the doorway and he shook his head.
Nope.
"Hey, no, don't even freakin' think it."
But she did.
In fact she more than freaking thought about it. Because the next thing he knew she had knocked over a painting which had been propped on a plinth for some restoration work and which then began to teeter and tip slowly forwards. Dean launched towards it with a bark of panic,
"Fuck..."
He caught it one handed but then had to scramble as a pot and a statue were also launched his way as the Empress tried to inch a slow path towards freedom throwing artefacts like a one woman hailstorm. Dean growled,
"Hey cut it out, the fuck are you doin'? Are you freakin' nuts?
"I am…"
"The Empress, I knowl."
He spat out a further curse as she kicked a suit of armor and then made a lightning fast bolt towards the door, at which point Dean figured that he probably had two choices. He could either save the knight or he could be the damn law. He decided on the latter and made a grab for her elbow wincing at the metal clatter that burst out from behind and which was suddenly interrupted by a screech in his eardrums.
"Son of a bi..."
"Ambrose," a rough voice barked out, because of course Vince would choose then to get back in touch with him.
"Kind of a little bit busy here old man," he grunted in return as he tried to keep his grip before blinking as the cat burglar ran up the freaking brickwork and launched over his head in a twist from his hold. She landed behind him and then kicked him hard between the shoulder blades and the copper blonde stumbled as his gun skittered off then threw his hands up to brace against the framework as he knocked into the door.
"Fuck."
Vince helpfully carried on.
"I think I may have found out some more about that painter we were talking about earlier," he grumbled down the line as Dean spun back and caught hold of the boot heel being roundhoused towards him and...
Hold up.
"You did what?" Dean frowned in bewilderment, but he grinned as the cat burglar hopped up and down on one leg and flailed her hands for some much needed balance. He propelled her with her a push and she fell over backwards and nearly took out the same damn painting again. But before he could even start to look for his handgun she did one of those ninja flip things and popped right back up.
"Oh crap."
Although it did look freaking cool though…
Vince kept on rambling,
"I thought it might help with your whole undercover thing to know a little bit more about the guy. Says here he was born Robert Szatkowski in Michigan and…"
"Not now damn it," Dean grunted back, as The Empress put her fists up and then threw a right hook at him which he blocked. But holy crap she was strong for a girl. Because what was she, like, five three or five two in height perhaps? He blocked her second right and then a left in rapid fire before stumbling on the helmet of the stupid downed suit of armor and nearly falling over.
"Fuck."
"It also says here that he's a kickboxer and even a trained martial artist…"
"I said not now."
Dean swung a right hook of his own, but found it sweeping through nothing but thin air as The Empress ducked low in front of him then twirled on the floor. Her foot slung out at his and kicked it from beneath him so that he went down with a clatter and landed on his back. He grabbed a sheet as he fell and emptied the contents of a table across his damn head. The museum would be pissed, but he had no time to dwell on that fuckup as The colorful headed criminal made a launch towards the door. Dean tried to scramble back up onto his kneecaps but was stopped by a third voice.
Steph?
"Hold it right there."
Their ballsy Commissioner was stood in the doorway, which Dean saw from his position sort of freaking upside down. She had her service weapon pointed but it had been so long since she'd done beat work that he wondered if she remembered how to use the damn thing. The Empress slid to a halt and stamped a foot down and in response to it the boss smirked,
"Ambrose, are you okay?"
He winced,
"I'll live, but what the fuck are you doin' out here? An' where's that freakin' backup you said you were aendin' in?"
"Right here."
"Hold up. You mean you're it?" Dean barked in outrage, pushing himself into his hands and knees and oh holy crap was he ever getting elderly? He felt like his freaking bad joints had bad joints, "No cavalry with lasers an' grenades an' that all shit? Because Seth always has lasers."
Fine. Seth never had lasers but she didn't know that. In response his boss frowned then made a rookie schoolgirl error.
She looked at him.
By which he meant she looked right freaking at him with the stink eye that he had come to know pretty well. But in doing that she took her eyes off the god damn cat burglar who took her chance as Dean barked at her in warning.
"Steph, no…"
"What are you..." she reacted too late to the superkick and so Dean could only blink from the floor in pure horror as his boss was propelled nearly clean from the room and also lost her gun. They would have to stop doing that.
Desperately he tried to scramble back up onto his feet again to try and save the woman who drove him insane, but notwithstanding his brothers was the closest thing to family and a sister or a crazy spinster aunt that he had. He needed to protect her. But there was one thing he had forgotten. Stephanie McMahon was a freaking badass and so instead of shrivelling up and begging for mercy she shot a hand out as The Empress' flashed past and caught her by the foot which sent the thief sprawling.
Go boss.
"Empress, you are under arrest, you have to right to remain silent and refuse to answer questions…"
The cat burglar lashed out again as Stephanie popped up and kicked the feisty McMahon woman backwards. Steph flew back into a full sized unblinking mannequin dressed as a Roman centurion with a spear and even though Dean had been planning on helping, he ground to a halt.
A real life girl fight? Fuck yeah.
"Uh boss, you need some help or…"
"The bitch is mine," she growled ferally, launching back up and then charging towards the criminal in a clumsy looking but otherwise pretty effective takedown.
There was a scream from one of them, or both of them together and then the next thing Dean knew the pair were rolling over and over on the floor, pulling each other's hair and swiping and clawing like the bitchy cheerleaders in some crappy teen film. If he had known how to work his damn phone he would have filmed it, since Roman and Seth were probably going to think he'd made it all up.
"Ugg…"
He snapped back out of his inappropriate daydream as The Empress wrapped her hands around Stephanie's throat and began to try and throttle her into oblivion.
"Shit," Dean stumbled the rest of the way up and then looked around for his gun, or possibly even for her gun because how could both the damn things be totally lost? The boss made a noise and then turned sort of blueish and so Dean reached out and swept up an earthen pot. It was an old looking thing and kind of cracked in some places, but he figured in the circumstances it would probably do and so lifted it high above The Empress' dyed hair and then brought it down hard on the back of her skull.
CRACK.
For a second he wasn't sure whether the horrible sound of breaking had come from her head or the fragile looking pot and so was actually pretty grateful when it splintered into pieces and then crumbled in his hands. The museum would be less pleased though. His bad on that one.
For a second the cat burglar remained unmoving like some sort of mutant freaking ninja criminal, but then her eyes rolled up and she toppled over sideways in a plant into the floorboards. Goodbye and goodnight. Steph let out a gasp and Dean smiled smugly in expectation of the thank you for having saved her life since he figured it was probably the least thing she owed him.
Or evidently not.
"God damn it Ambrose. Are you some kind of an absolute moron? I mean, what in the hell even took you so long?"
He gaped,
"Uh, what happened to the bitch is mine, remember?"
"That was before she tried to strangle me, idiot," reaching over Steph actually freaking poked him in the breastbone before brushing past and fishing the precious Hogan gem loose as behind them the curator and the local cops burst in too late to help them but looking pretty hella impressed.
By her.
"Well done commissioner, you recovered diamond."
Dean raised a hand,
"Uh…"
"It was nothing," Steph sang back, smiling sweetly and...oh god freaking damn it, had he mentioned how much he missed Roman and Seth, who would have been busy checking and fussing like hens over him instead of taking his credit? "It was all in a day's work."
The curator let out a wail from behind them,
Huh?
"Oh my goodness, the Sabu earthenware," he sank to his knees beside the bits of broken pottery and then ran them desolately through his hands, "Who did this?"
"The Empress."
Dean and Stephanie responded in an instant, clumsily and together which was not suspicious at all although thankfully the little man was too cut up to notice that part and so Stephanie continued sounding super imperious.
Darn.
"I tried to stop her, but she was determined to get away from me and she started to break things. I did everything I could."
Dean snorted,
"Oh yeah, she was a regular freakin' hero."
Stephanie narrowed her eyes a bit at that, or more likely the super sarcastic sounding tones he used, although luckily for him and the rest of his career hopes, The Empress chose that moment to let out a low groan and slowly blink back into the land of the living. Even though it was debatable if she knew where she was.
Dean swiped some cuffs off a nearby policeman and then bent down to snap them on her, briskly deciding to take charge.
"Okay let's see some movement, m' gonna need a van for here. Oh an' lets get a lockable freakin' box down right away so we can get that diamond back over to the precinct."
But even so there was still a whole lot more to do. Like fully evacuating the rest of the museum, including the amorous couple who had probably found a hidey hole and were busy making love in a broom cupboard or something, or in the prehistoric section beneath a sabretooth rug.
Because of the screaming and the breaking of the skylight and earlier waves of panic, the press had started to turn up and so by the time the cops were ready to bring out The Empress, there were more freaking cameras than a red carpet deal in Cannes and with Commissioner Stephanie McMahon out front and centre.l gloating wildly. With Vince too obviously.
"Commissioner," someone barked as Dean ducked under the flickering police tape, "How does it feel to be the hero of the hour and to have stopped the notorious Empress single handed?"
"Single handed?"
Dean's snort was probably picked up by the mikes, although the boss simply acted like she hadn't heard he bellow or anything other than the wildly glowing praise.
She smiled back winningly,
"It's my job gentlemen. I never saw the danger. I just knew my city needed help. Plus I did have some important assistance," she paused briefly and Dean froze and then let a little grin loose, because even though he was a shadowy top secret operative and not allowed on camera, the Shield shoutout would be nice. But instead however Steph gripped tight to her father, "The Mayor was with me through my earpiece the whole time."
Deans mouth fell open.
What?
"Oh come now sweetheart," Vince chuckled, patting her hand warmly then moving closer to the bright camera lights, "Both of us were just fulfilling our duty as servants of this city."
Dean was half tempted to stamp across, although fortunately the attentions of pretty much everyone were then distracted by a groggy looking Empress being led out and in a flash the cameras and the reporters were on the move again.
"Hey, there she is."
Steph and Vince were roundly dropped and Dean beamed in childish pleasure at the look on their faces and then turned and pushed through the scrum back to their trusty van, which was parked up on the other side of the road out of the carnage with two men stood beside it.
Huh?
Except maybe not men. Because instead they were more like men shaped mounds of blanket, since each of them was wrapped from head to toe in thick sheets, with one bundle sneezing and the other one coughing.
Dean frowned,
"The fuck are you two germ piles doin' here? Shouldn't you be home gettin' hooked on freakin' Nyquil?"
He was grinning internally though, because the idiots were there and after having spent the past eight hours with the frankly impossible McMahon clan — which had kind of been like trying to assimilate with aliens because deep down he had always kind of felt that's what they were — having his brothers in front of him felt brilliant.
Seth sneezed.
Ick.
"We herb aboud it on da news and thoughd weeb bedder gome and check up on our crazy teammate. Ashoo…"
Dean frowned,
"Whoa, geez, I mean like, say it don't spray it man.
"Fug you asshole."
Roman chuckled from beside them which then promptly turned into a hacking type of cough until Dean could feel the air nearly humming with germ spores. But he let the big arm wind around him all the same as Roman pulled him closer and then tousled at his birds' nest with a loving and okay, mildly fever soaked hand.
"You okay babe?"
Dean nodded,
"Uh huh, freakin' peachy. 'Cept there's this pot in the museum that ain't looking so hot. Uh, I think someone broke it in the fight or whatever. Probably Steph because she was kinda wavin' around."
"Stephanie huh?"
Roman raised a knowing brow at him and Dean cleared his throat and then turned back towards the scene in time to witness a policeman with a heavily locked briefcase which he had been cuffed to coming down the steps, flanked by a dozen other armed and watchful officers and the panicky curator. The Hogan Diamond was on the move and knowing that it was officially no longer their problem, the copper blonde blew out a sigh and then sunk back against their van.
Thank freaking god.
"So," he chirped back merrily, "Think you two biohazards could stomach a nightcap or do you need to get back before the disease control centre closes?"
Roman shrugged,
"Well, they do say whiskey is good for a sore throat. Brother you in?" he turned back to Seth again, who paused for a second, sneezed into his blanket and then offered up a shrug,
"Ugh, I meab why de hell nob?"
"Great,"
Dean rubbed his hands together in excitement, because holy crap did he ever need a drink? Between Stephanie and Vince and diamonds and cat burglars and not having his two favorite morons around.
But then that was the point. The bad guy had been defeated and okay, so technically she had actually been a bad girl but the three of them had the rest of the evening. In actual fact things were looking pretty fucking good.
Except for this kind of little tickle in his nose and –
"Atishoooo."
The sneeze ripped out of his lungs and nearly blew him backwards into the van with the force of it, as his brothers winced guiltily.
Dean groaned,
"Oh come on."
Okay, so I know some of you were probably expecting Bo in this one…but rest assured, he'll be popping back up real soon!
Next week Dean gets a little bit drunk and the boys have to look after him. The brother vibes will be strong!