|Reviews for Long Arm of the Law|
| LittleBiscuit 5/26/12 . chapter 1
You are such a good writer, your lines flow perfectly and everyone is just excellently in character. I especially like how much effort you put into each story, they are well thought out and make a lot of sense, I can never discover any clear plotholes. You even take the conscious effort to plug plot holes I hadn't even noticed (Like, why Frank knew where to look for Dean, good explanation :)).
Furthermore, I like that you manage to spread the whumpage around a bit. I do love me some protective Dean and hurt Sam, but you manage to swap it around perfectly compared to the beginning (Sam hurt) coming to the end (Dean hurt). And Sam in full protective mode is also always a nice thing to see. I used to think I liked stories focused more on Sam but reading this kind of stories have shown me that I enjoy things much more when everyone gets equal screen time. It's nice to know what's going on in both Dean's and Sam's head, and also that they get just as much time being comforted as being comforting.
Keep up your entertaining and exciting writing. I will be looking forward to your next story
| SupernaturallyEgocentric 5/26/12 . chapter 1
This is great! Interesting story, historical back-up, boys in peril, daring rescue, well-written - Awesome!
| KKBELVIS 5/26/12 . chapter 1
Way cool smugglers blues history lesson to go with a way cool brotherly story.
Thank you much for the fun time!
| merannoeu 5/26/12 . chapter 1
If this sounds like gushing, believe me, I am holding back...
You are an awesome writer and I am so glad I found my way to your stories:)
I love Supernatural (as much as you? maybe more than you?) and I am writing a story as my tribute to this wonderful show, trying to immortalize the magic in my way but I have only a fraction of your skill.
Please don't stop writing-I love the way you illustrate Sam and Dean...
| Harrigan 5/26/12 . chapter 1
Ahh... this makes me long for the days of simple casefics! (Not that I'm not addicted to the show no matter what they do-but sometimes I really enjoy the straightforward casefic full of local color and history and the boys risk their lives, use their wits, get whumped a bit and snark at each other and get the job done!
I can always count on you to deliver!
| Beckydaspatz 5/26/12 . chapter 1
Dean whistled. "Must've been stacked Sam-high in here." He grinned at Sam's bitchface.-haha! nice line. :D
Dean tumbled through the trapdoor without ever making a conscious decision to go after Sam. -Wonderful!
"Dean, chill." Sam grimaced at the hoarseness of his voice. "It's just..." He forced open his eyes and offered a weak smile as his stomach settled. "It's your pick-up lines that didn't agree with me."-Cute! I really love that. :D
Dean grabbed the blanket he'd been wrapped in and laid it over Sam.-nice touch!
Sam studied his brother. Dean was downplaying the situation, a habit honed over the years to protect Sam when things were bad. It frustrated him at times, had even pissed him off when he was younger, until he'd come to accept it was just part of who Dean was. Always would be. Hell, when they were ninety, if they lived that long, Dean's protective streak would still be in full force. He grinned at a sudden mental image of the two of them shuffling along as old men, about to step off a curb to cross the street. "Watch your step there, Sammy. You break a hip, they'll have to break into the dinosaur museum to find you a new one."-I NEED this to happen in canon. NEED IT.
A snort came across the phone. "If you didn't sound like you'd been gargling with rusty nails, I might believe you. But you're breathing and bitching, which is two better than last night, so I'll take it."- PEREFECT Bobby line.
"What?" Sam and Dean asked the question in unison.
"You two practice that?" -I'd like to know that too. Cause I miss it. It's been what...two season since that has happened. :( Two seasons two long.
"And watch your backs, would ya? I don't like getting phone calls at two in the morning telling me one of you is on a respirator and the other's doing a damn fine impression of an ice cube."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Love you, too, grandma."
"Idjits." Bobby hung up.-OMG! Please write for the show, PLEASE. How much money do I need to give you for you to be able to do that ? I have to win the lottery first? Well, shit.
"But, Sam..." Dean, already moving down the stairs, grinned over his shoulder. "If I'm smiling, let me sleep. Trust me, I can dream up far better things than anything that room can offer."
"TMI, dude." Sam shook his head, pushed open the door and disappeared into the street.-I miss this SO much. Man, more than I realized until I read gems like this.
Told me it would make my eyes sparkle. I don't wanna freaking sparkle. I want coffee – fully leaded."-I just choked on my water. Oh God, that's SO good.
Dean pushed open the door to the archive room and took a sip of his decaf, grimacing at the taste. "Oh, come on! On what planet does this qualify as coffee?"
He set down the cup in disgust. Holding the paper bag containing his food in his teeth, he slipped off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. After hanging his jacket on the seat back, he flopped into the chair and rolled it in front of the microfiche machine. He pulled a face as he unrolled the paper bag and pulled out his tofu burger. "Pretend it's meat, Dean. Pretend it's meat," he muttered as he peeled back the paper wrapper and took a bite. His grimace deepened with each chew. He swallowed with difficulty and shuddered for effect. "Ugh. Nobody's imagination's that good. The paper bag it came in would taste better."-Best Dean scene yet. :D Very true to character and of course, hilarious!
Sam swallowed as he pulled open the door, then charged down the stairs to the archives. That door was also open. As Sam skidded to a stop inside the room, his chest tightened. The room's lone chair was tipped over. A cardboard coffee cup on the table beside the microfiche machine was upended and dripping coffee onto the floor, each drip joining the large puddle already spreading across the tiles, soaking into Dean's abandoned suit jacket. Beside the jacket lay Dean's phone and his gun.
Okay's a relative term." Dean's heart was still pounding against his chest. "But yeah." He winced as he pushed himself up. "Cutting it a little close there, Sammy."
Sam snorted. "Needle in haystack, dude, just to find you. How 'bout a thanks?"
It was Dean's turn to snort. "I'll thank you when you get my ass back on dry land. You know I hate boats."
Sam glanced at the wheelhouse behind him, nodded, then quickly reloaded the shotgun. "Look, we've gotta fire up the engines to pull alongside. Hang tight."
Dean rolled his eyes. "I ain't going anywhere."
The boat's engine came roaring to life. Sam dropped a hand from his shotgun to grab the railing as the boat veered sharply to port. He turned back to Dean and his expression changed instantly. He shouted something, his words lost under the growl of the boat motors, but the speed with which Sam raised his shotgun told Dean all he needed to know. His head snapped to the left. Caldwell Pritchard had reappeared behind him.
The spirit smirked down at him. "I never leave a job unfinished."
Sam's shotgun boomed, this time hitting Pritchard square in the back. Again, he dissipated, but not before he'd waved his hand at the sacks of salt sitting near the stern of the boat, pushing them off the ramp.
Dean could only watch helplessly as the sacks plunged into the water. The rope attached to them uncoiled rapidly, then pulled taut, jerking Dean across the deck of the boat, down the ramp and into the water. He barely had time to inhale before he was pulled beneath the surface.-Holy CRAP! My heart is POUNDING right now!
The sight sent a chill through Sam that had nothing to do with the water temperature. He kicked out, pushing himself toward his brother, eyes widening as he drew closer. The salt sacks had landed at the edge of a sandy shelf and the weight was causing the ledge to crumble. As it gave way, the sacks tipped further and further toward the edge, beyond which was nothing but dark water hiding unfathomable depths. If they went over with Dean still tied to them…-!
Sam quickly shucked off the rest of his clothes, then unsteadily pulled on the survival suit. He'd just pulled up the hood and sat down beside Dean when he noticed a pair of hazy hazel-green eyes staring up at him. "Hey." He squeezed Dean's shoulder. "Hang in there. The spirit's toast, now we're gonna get you some help."
Dean glanced around, then down at the suit he was encased in, still disoriented, his voice little more than a raspy whisper. "Son of a bitch…"
It was such a Dean thing to say, for the first time since he realized the spirit had snatched his brother, Sam smiled.-Wow! What an amazing way to end this scene, it was so tense and then this is so very Dean. Love it!
Dean inhaled deeply, and smiled. "You may be a pain in the ass, Sammy, but right now, you're an awesome pain in the ass."-Awwwwww!
Dean swallowed a piece of pie, put down his fork and closed his eyes. "It was weird, Sammy. When I got dragged under… I was fighting to hold my breath and get out of the ropes and one stupid thought kept going through my head." He looked up at his brother. "Salt. Of all the times salt has saved our asses, this time it was gonna be the thing that killed me." He snorted. "Not the footnote I wanted on my career: Dean Winchester—drowned by a bag of salt."
"Not funny." Sam shifted uncomfortably, still unable to shake the eerie image of a lifeless Dean at the bottom of the bay. He cleared his throat. "But that's another smuggler's trick Pritchard borrowed." At Dean's puzzled frown he continued. "If someone crossed them or cheated them, drowning was the smugglers' punishment of choice. They used sacks of salt as an anchor because, over time, the salt would dissipate and the body would float up and wash ashore…"
"Serving as a warning to anyone else who felt like double-crossing them." Dean shook his head. "Nice."
Sam swallowed. "Not the word I'd use, but yeah."
Dean looked over at Sam, shoveled in a large forkful of pie, then grinned as he chewed. "Get your panties untwisted, Sammy. I'm good. It's gonna take a lot more than a pissed-off spirit to take me out."
Sam snorted. "Maybe, but do we have to keep testing that theory?"
"All part of the job, dude." Dean reached for the cup on the nightstand and washed down the pie with a big gulp of coffee, then winked at Sam. "Just another day at the office for the Brothers Winchester."-This needs to be an episode,really! It reads like an episode, I loved every little bit of it and it really made my day. Thanks!
| Thorny Hedge 5/26/12 . chapter 1
What a roller coaster ride. Would make a great episode.