Title: Abnormal Dirge
author: jmaria
tth100 prompt: Kit
Crossover fandom: Supernatural
Characters: Kit, Dean and Sam Winchester
Prompt: 039. Funeral
Word Count: 505
Rating: T
Disclaimer: Joss owns Kit, Eric Kripke & Robert Singer own Dean and Sam
Spoilers: Spoilers for this week's Doppelganger episode of Supernatural.
Abnormal Dirge
Typically, a guy goes to his own brother's funeral. She'd staked out the funeral parlor all day, hoping to get a moment of the bereaved family's time. And yet here was yummy Sam Winchester getting out of an older model black car with a stranger that oddly matched his dead brother's description to a tee.
Kit Holburn was used to things not adding up, she was from good ole Sunny-D after all. This whole mess certainly wasn't adding up. The twenty-year old tip-toed closer to the car and tested the handle. Just her luck, they'd left it unlocked. She heard voices carry, and without thinking, she squeezed into the back seat. Grabbing what appeared and smelled like sewer-water clothes. She'd probably smelled worse during her little escapades with Dawn and Carlos last summer, and she knew the New Watcher's Council had that creepy odor to it that was worse than eviscerated demon.
Muffled voices followed by slams of car doors made Kit feel very nervous. Okay, spooked more than nervous. Buffy Summers had insisted that all of the new Watchers clock practical field time. Had something to do with the old school watchers, and it made Xander giggle for some reason. Dawn said she'd explain it, but she didn't really understand it either. They were talking again, and Kit strained her ears to listen.
"I'm gonna miss it. How many times does a guy get to go to his own funeral?"
Kit bit her tongue. How does someone miss their own funeral? Oh yeah, they miss it when they're the undead! She felt slime slip down the back of her shirt and she did the most girly thing she could do - she screamed. Her body was propelled forward as they hit hard on the breaks.
"Ow, ow, ow! That hurt worse then when I fell through the bathroom floor," Kit groaned to no one in particular.
"Who are you?" Sam demanded.
"What are you?" Dean countered.
"You would have loved the ceremony, half of your teeth fell out spontaneously and your bastard of a brother didn't bother to show for questioning," Kit replied, shoving her hair out of her eyes. "Oh, dude, you need to do laundry, ASAP."
"Didn't answer our questions," Dean snapped.
"Kit Holburn, I'm a member of the NWC. I was tracking down a lead on a Doppelganger but it looks like you beat me to it. Wanna explain what you are and why you missed your own brother's funeral?" Kit tossed this last bit to Sam.
"Can you wait until we're out of St. Louis?"
"Can I throw these clothes out the window?"
"No, but you can quit hiding under them," Sam grinned.
"Then I can wait till the city limits," Kit shrugged. She frowned, "Is that Metallica?"
"House rules, dead guy gets to pick out his own dirge, and the stowaway gets to be grateful her butt isn't on the side of the highway."
"Pretty touchy for a dead guy," Kit snorted.
"You get used to it," Sam replied.