Recruiting
Dec. 2nd, 2014 09:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
madimpossibledreamerYeah, I know, I'm posting a lot of random things that have nothing to do with each other (and STILL have yet to get to JJBA:SS...Finals and crazy school times lurk on the horizon, I'll get to it and not leave Fitz and Xander hanging forever). Mostly that involves me going back through already written stuff and posting it. I'm attempting to get it all online. Might not work, but. You know.
This particular one is from an insane crossover nexus 'verse. This one is short, so I fit the title to that, but it's subtle and I like it.
Main Points: Everybody's a Watcher!Verse, specifically Supernatural and BtVS in this one. Massive crossover.
Chapter Summary: Xander pays Sam Winchester a visit.
Word Count: 721
Rating: K
Note: Relatively spoiler-free (i.e. mainly references that you may or may not get depending on whether or not you've seen certain episodes, but nothing direct)
Sam jumps when the man with the eyepatch sits down at his table. He tries not to, but it's not as if he can one hundred percent control his natural reactions yet. He really has to work on that if he's going to have a normal life. Instead, he sighs. "My dad sent you, didn't he?"
The guy looks taken aback, like he'd been expecting most responses but not that one. "Umm....what?"
Sam narrows his eyes, studying the man. The guy's big, giving off a 'large and clumsy' vibe that Sam only really sees in the mirror. He's not as tall, and his hands are calloused. With that goofy grin, anyone could be tricked into thinking the man's completely normal, maybe working construction, but every hunting instinct in the younger Winchester says that eyepatch wasn't earned by any accident or war on foreign soil. "You are a Hunter, aren't you?" he asks, not lowering his voice. Other than the occasional ecoactivist, it wasn't a word that really needed to be hidden in society.
The guy frowns, then half nods. "I guess, though that's not strictly accurate. I mean, it's not the word I'd use to describe myself, but...I suppose it's close enough. Really, I'm being the faster version of FedEx. Although, when you think about the fact that this has taken more than seventy years to reach you, that's not entirely right either. I'd have been Hermes, but I kinda had trouble tying those little winged sandals to my feet, especially with them flapping around and slapping me in the face..." He trails off, backpedaling, as he sees the changing look on Sam's face, "Word exercise! Sheesh! It's called an 'imagination', maybe you've heard of it."
Despite himself, a slight smile passes over Sam's face. He holds out a hand. "Sam Winchester."
The guy grins. "Yeah, I know. I mean, unless I made a huge mistake, which wouldn't be the first time. Though to be fair, I didn't know that teacher was actually a preying mantis lady, or that the exchange student was a mummy...long story. Let's just say I'm a demon and just general weirdness magnet and leave it at that." He slides what looked like a musty old journal over. "We found this when cleaning out our archives. Well, more like just 'reorganizing it so it doesn't look like we're going to run into the Minotaur at any minute', because we fought that guy last spring and trust me it wasn't a barrel of fun. Barrel of angry, raging horns of death, maybe. Anyway, this belongs in your family, but we used our initiative-augh, bad word, mental note, Xanman, don't use that one again-and decided we'd give it to someone in the family who'd actually appreciate it. So here you go." The guy could talk, and some of the stories...were they even possible?
He takes it, opening it. The words aren't English—an archaic form of Latin. The Men of Letters? And a...John Winchester? He frowns, looking up at the guy.
"Duh, rude me, didn't introduce myself, just started babbling all over the place. Xander." He holds out a hand and Sam shakes it, noting that this guy had been taught a proper handshake. "Your father was named after your great-grandfather."
Sam nods. "Okay. And what am I supposed to do with this?"
Xander shrugs, standing. "It's yours. Whatever you want. I'm supposed to talk to you about something else, but I'm not sure you're our guy and it can wait. Just...if-slash-when you're ready to talk, just call that number." Xander fumbles in his bag before finding a business card. "I'm not used to having these," he explains. “Well, good luck with everything, and it’ll be great working with you if you decide that’s a thing you want to be involved in. It’s great to meet a Winchester.” He stands up and waves clumsily.
“It’s great to meet you too,” Sam responds automatically, trying to keep the frown from his face. He manages long enough that Xander’s phone rings, and he’s on it and suddenly talking a mile a minute and moving a lot quicker toward the door. It might be selfish, but Sam hopes that whatever’s going bump in the night, it’s not happening on campus. He has a lot to process, and hunting won’t help that along.
