han_solo | (no subject)

(no subject)

Dean's not used to having a passenger who's not -- well, Sam. Not on long cross-country trips.

He's frowning a little, and when the silence gets awkward he turns the music up. Way easier than talking.

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That's the most adorable goddamn thing she's seen since arriving.

Grinning, Rachel shakes her head as she gets out of the car, starting to strip from her outer clothing. "I'm gonna hunt," she informs him. "Meet you back here."

Hey, it's totally not smirkworthy. Dean gives her a dirty look, but shortly he's grinning again.

Damn it, this is fucking sweet. He never thought he'd see this place. Bitched to Sammy about it once, even.

This is awesome.

He gets a good hour to just bask in the beauty of nature or whatever. Hunting is easy, doesn't take long at all, but Rachel has a bitch of a time getting a fire started and skinning the stupid rabbit.

She's bloody-handed and irritated and wrinkling her nose at the ruined pelt, but she's got a rabbit on a stick over a fire and that's got to count for something, damn it!

(she's not interrupting his nature-vacation-time-whatever either, not until she has to. The trip will be a lot easier if they don't scream at each half the way and sit in sulky silence the rest.)

He's watching her and smirking a little for most of that time anyway.

(funny, but when he imagined coming here, he always kinda thought Sam'd be there too.)

"Failed Girl Scouts 101, didja?"

"I made popsicle picture frames in Girl Scouts," Rachel grumbles at him, irritated that he isn't giving her the praise she obviously highly deserves. She made a freaking fire! Out of NOTHING! "The useful stuff is in Boy Scouts."

Her dad had considered her request to join that Scouts but her mom had vetoed it.

Dean laughs. "Not really. Boy Scouts are all freakin' idiots, don't know north from south. Meat smells good."

Rachel shakes her head and turns the spit. She knows enough about roasting marshmallows to realize she needs to keep the rabbit rotating. "Figures you'd be one of them."

Yes. She is assuming he learned survival skills from Boy Scouts. Or something akin to, anyway.

"How's the view?"

"For about a week, yeah." Dean snorts.

"Looks like a canyon."

Rachel snorts right back, hiding exactly how much that makes her life with continued spit-turning.

"Popsicle sticks?"

"Popsicle sticks," Dean confirms.

"Biggest waste of time in m'life."

Grinning, Rachel chances a glance back at him, trying to ignore that while the rabbit smells really good it's not going to taste nearly as good as Ai-Ling's, if only because she has no spices.

"You could sharpen the sticks into little points for the vampires, right? Picture Frame of Vampiric Death, that's one of the projects they could have taught."

"Wouldn't do any good," Dean says, shrugging. "With vampires you gotta get the heart. Popsicle stick's never gonna make it past the ribcage."

He does not have a warped worldview, just a simple one. Works/Doesn'tWork.

Rachel is silent for a few moments, poking at the meat.

"If you made it sharp enough, you could hack at the head with it. Doesn't beheading work too?"

She sees absolutely nothing wrong with this conversation.

"With a popsicle stick?"

Dean snorts.

"Good luck cutting through the spinal cord with that, sweetheart."

They are just Totally Normal dinner participants.

... or something.

"With the picture frame."

Rachel smirks and peels off a bit of rabbit to taste.

"Yeah, well, just wait till you have questions about animals, see how gracious I am then."

Dean laughs.

"Hey ... need salt with that? Could probably spare some."

"You have salt? Just sitting in the car?" This would be a 'yes' but Rachel's a little stuck on her questions at first. "Are you holding out on the picnic supplies or something?"

Dean raises an eyebrow. "Rock salt. About fifty pounds of it. Yeah."

Why wouldn't he?

Good question. Let Rachel ask it.

"Why?"

A faint smirk.

"For putting on corpses."

Of course. As one does.

Eyebrow lift.

"Of course. How silly of me to forget."

Whiskey Tango Foxtrot.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Dean laughs, finally.

"Hey, it's no crazier than anything else. If y'burn a corpse with salt, it'll destroy the spirit as well as the body. Good way for gettin' rid of ghosts, vengeful spirits, that sort of shit."

"It's a little crazier than anything else," Rachel replies, but she's smirking, bemused. "How's it work?"

She doesn't always need an answer but she pretty much always has to ask.

"Fuck if I know." Dean shrugs. "Something about binding shit together. You'd have to ask S-- someone else."

Rachel nods absently. That's a good enough answer for her.

"So are you going to go get the salt or stand there and wish it to you?"