trans_9 | [OPEN] Getting Back Into the Groove [R for cussing most likely]

Where has Dean been, do you ask?

Well, for one, he's been relaxing. That mission thing? Ridiculous. Dean's pretty sure he's not going to be emotionally traumatized, because hell, obviously he's been through worse, but man, that was one hell of a trip. So he's in the mindset of believing that yes, he deserves some downtime. That's why he's in the Sensoriums, his favorite usual hang out on the giant meatship. The room's turned into Bobby's junkyard again, only this time he's got his Impala. He's working on fixing the problems he'd told Stacy to program into the car, and really, this is probably the most relaxing thing he's done in a while.

Of course, he wouldn't mind having some company. He's thinking about seeing if Stacy can conjure him up a Bobby, just to have someone to banter with, but he hasn't really decided yet. So at the moment, he's under the hood of the Impala, messing with something with a wrench while Led Zeppelin's You Shook Me plays from a boombox nearby. He may or may not be singing along as he works.

Life is good.

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"No, not really," Sam shrugged. "You?"

"Well, aside from almost being eaten, no, not really."

"Cannibals?" Sam asked. "Or Wendigo?"

"Man, I wish," Dean replies, rolling his eyes. "Some sort of freaky mud thing."

Sam cocks an eyebrow at his brother and his curiosity written across his face. "What, you mean like that Shit Demon thing from Dogma?"

"... Not exactly, no, but thanks for the mental image. More like a giant living pit of mud."

"Hmmm. Well, that's different," Sam replied with a shrug.

"Still a pain in the ass. Ninjas saved us from it." Dean says matter-of-factly, now wiggling himself under the car. The only parts showing are his legs, at this point.

And this is where Sam just starts laughing. Well, snickering is perhaps a more accurate description.

"What, it's true!" Dean's voice comes from under the car. "Bet you didn't know we have real friggin' ninjas on board, did you?"

"Dude," Sam said, still laughing. "We're on a flying pancreas. I'd believe just about anything right now."

Dean huffs out a laugh at that one this time. "Good point."

He's quiet for a minute, and then he brings up what he'd been thinking about before Sam popping up.

"Hey, you talked to Captain Cryptic yet? Leonard... or Leroy. Or something like that."

"You mean Leon?" Sam corrected, his smile quickly fading. "Yeah. We met. He stopped by the sensorium when I was...working out." Sam barely caught himself from saying 'when I was sparring.' The last thing he needed was Dean on his butt to take it easy.

Dean can hear the smile fade in Sam's voice, and he scoots out from under the car, taking a break. He pulls himself up and leans against the Impala, arms folded.

"He stopped by here earlier. Quizzed me and then left," Dean makes an exasperated noise. "I don't like him."

Reminded him too much of John.

"Why?" Sam asked.

"He was a jackass." Simply put. Not that Leon really was, Dean just didn't like his first impression.

"Ok," Sam said with a dismissive shrug. "Well, if it makes you feel any better I checked out the list of teams and we got the MacManuses, Xander, and Jo with us."

Oh, that does make him feel better. ~~He will be worrying about Chaucer, however.~~

"Awesome. Our team kicks ass." Dean grins.

"...and Leon's apparently in charge." Well, then there's that.

"... Except for that part." And now Dean looks like he's been sucking on a lemon.

"Maybe it won't be so bad," Sam speculated. "Maybe he's not really a dick."

"Yeah, well. Taking orders from a guy like him isn't really my idea of a good time," Dean sighs.

"Who says we have to take orders from him?" Sam questioned.

"Well, Stacy, I'm guessing. Why, you planning on doing your own thing?" Dean asks, raising an eyebrow.

"No, I just...," Sam replied. "We've been around the block enough, Dean, I think we can handle ourselves without having to be ordered to do everything."