“Gimme a credit card,” Sam demanded, hand extended complete with wiggling fingers, waiting for the piece of plastic money that would be paying for their stay that night. “I’ll get us signed in.”
Dean eyed the impatient hand, one eyebrow reaching for his hairline and touching the still bleeding cut, before his gaze slowly traveling up to meet Sam’s face. “My card, my ‘getting us signed in’,” he replied, sounding all of five years old. Taking his wallet out, Dean searched for a usable credit card, taking it out to parade it in front of Sam’s nose.
Sam’s fingers were almost a blur as he reached out and snagged the prancing card from Dean’s loose grasp. The expected ‘Hey!’ of protest that a surprised Dean let out was promptly ignored as Sam turned the card to read the name on it. “It’s not your card, it's... Jack B. Hauer's –funny, by the way. Hadn’t pegged you for a fan- and the only thing that you have is a concussion, which means you probably can’t even see straight, never mind actually sign straight... need I remind you of what happened the last time you even tried?”
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branchandroot
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Date: 2011-03-13 10:20 pm (UTC)Dean eyed the impatient hand, one eyebrow reaching for his hairline and touching the still bleeding cut, before his gaze slowly traveling up to meet Sam’s face. “My card, my ‘getting us signed in’,” he replied, sounding all of five years old. Taking his wallet out, Dean searched for a usable credit card, taking it out to parade it in front of Sam’s nose.
Sam’s fingers were almost a blur as he reached out and snagged the prancing card from Dean’s loose grasp. The expected ‘Hey!’ of protest that a surprised Dean let out was promptly ignored as Sam turned the card to read the name on it.
“It’s not your card, it's... Jack B. Hauer's –funny, by the way. Hadn’t pegged you for a fan- and the only thing that you have is a concussion, which means you probably can’t even see straight, never mind actually sign straight... need I remind you of what happened the last time you even tried?”