Title: Before Then
Characters: Dean and... others
Summary: The problem here is this ficlet has a central conceit that I don't want to just blurt out. Not a complex conceit. It's a ficlet. A cute twee little ficlet. With no spoilers.
Disclaimer - Don't own them. Never will, but how much do I love the logos of giving that exists within fandom. Not for money, but to share the love, the angst. Wow, I think this is the first time I've evern wanted to go into a huge digression in a disclaimer, but seriously, not nearly as much as I have received, but here's a little ficlet gift for the ether.
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Dean rubbed his eyes. He'd slept in the car most of the way there, but he'd had to stand through the ceremony, which went on forever, and it was late, and he was tired. Didn't matter.
He looked around. The room was full of giants. He was surrounded, but he had to get across the room. It was okay. He had a shovel. He gripped it tight. Hard lines pressing into his palm until it hurt. Nodded to himself. He was ready.
He slipped off the window seat and crept forward. Taking advantage of the scattered chairs and table clothes for cover. Almost got kicked a few times by giant feet. But he didn't. Kept quiet. Kept going.
Made it all the way to the edge of the dance floor without being spotted. Crawled out from under a table covered in dying flowers, wilting in the summer heat. He even managed to score some soft mints from a plastic bowl on one of the tables. They were tasty. Fresh. Like fireflies.
Then he got to the hard part.
There was no cover out on the floor. Just jumping giants. And her. Shining in a yellow dress under a light that was just for her.
Dean gripped his shovel, which was also yellow, and ran across the floor. Dodging legs and feet. Made it over to her without dying.
Looked up at her. Didn't say anything. Didn't need to. She smiled when she saw him and picked him up. He pressed his face into her neck and breathed in mom smell. Fabric softener and flowers and something else. Warm. He could hear her heart beating. He wrapped an arm around her neck. The arm holding the shovel. Just in case.
She moved to the music and said, "Tired honey?"
He whispered, "Yes," into her neck. Arms wrapped around her. Legs curving careful not to kick along the line of her belly. He was going to have a little brother soon. In a few months, he was going to be a big brother. Under his legs, he could feel the baby.
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