Title: I Still Drive
Characters: Sam, Dean
Summary: Game on!
A/N - I used all 5 prompts from the "On the Road" table - radio contest; cramped; road game; just ahead and out of gas. I'm awfully proud of myself ;)
Sam restlessly eyed the rest stop sign as it flew by and calculated the mileage to the next exit. He shifted and tried to ease the strain on his cramped legs but he didn’t say anything. Dean was a freakin’ machine when he was driving, but Sam liked the occasional chance to stretch. Not that he could say anything without Dean biting his head off.
Sam was in a mood. Dean was in a mood. Anything either one of them had to say would just irk the other so it was better if weighted silence was maintained.
Even their passive aggressive quiet had a familiar pattern…and the game was on. It was an old road game Sam and Dean played; the rules were implied and understood.
The highway signs indicated a rest stop just ahead. So it came down to a radio contest of sorts. Whatever song was on the radio or tape had to play to its completion; Dean wasn’t allowed to deliberately goose his speed and had to maintain pace with the flow of traffic. If the song ended before the exit came up, Dean would pull over and they’d take a break. But if the song wasn’t finished, Dean could sail on by and Sam would have to wait many miles before Dean would even consider pulling over again.
Thank God they weren’t listening to a concert cassette…Sam might never see the bathroom again.
Over the years Sam had become adept at gauging distance versus length of song.
I’m a cowboy…on a steel horse I ride…
Dean was compulsively eyeing the odometer and the rest stop signs. He was even better than Sam at determining distance because he had a weird mental playlist in his head and knew the length of whatever song he was listening to; then he just had to do the math.
I’m wanted (wanted)…dead or alive…
It was going to be close. Very close.
Dean started to grin, and Sam knew he’d been beat. He couldn’t help they eyeroll when Dean threw back his head and belted out, “I still drive…DEAD OR ALIVE” as the exit flew by out the passenger side window.
Sam smirked as Dean smacked his leg and gave him a shove. He caught Dean’s eye, and it was alright. The silence wasn’t as heavy as it had been. Sam shifted again and eyed the road ahead; hopefully they’d reach the next exit before they ran out of gas.
Classic Rock, Big Pretzels, and PIE!
- Fic - I Still Drive (1 Year Partay)