A/N: This fic is the product of a day and evening of crazy thoughts and rambling with unhobbityhobbit. We started off comparing how in an icon I use Dean looks 'Evil but sexy', which I said sounded like something Zapp Brannigan would say...it finished with the question of 'do you think Dean would be friends with Bender if they met?' and this is the result. I apologise in advance. This is not to be taken seriously.
This is a SUPERNATURAL/FUTURAMA CROSSOVER
When Dean met Bender
Dean had just finished his seventh solo job when he met Bender. It was a strange meeting, unexpected and highly unusual, and yet also felt absolutely right. When Dean thought back on that short time the two spent together, he realised that he had been blessed, by God or fate or whatever it was that caused Bender to be sent back in time with no idea of how he got there, and Dean was finally being rewarded for all his years of hard work.
Dean was walking down a dark alley when he first spotted his friend. Dean, more than three sheets to the wind, staggered along on the way back to his motel room. He'd been at a bar all evening before planning to head off the next day, hustling pool and checking out the local merchandise, and had decided to take a shortcut back to his temporary home.
Their meeting didn't exactly start out brilliantly. Bender was sat amongst about a dozen trash cans and dumpsters, nestled between two particularly full bins. Suddenly dizzy, Dean decided to rest a moment and sit down. His legs needed a good rest after the hunt he had completed that morning. Kelpies are damn hard to keep under control and boy, do they bite when they need to. Dean found that out the hard way and he now walked with a slight limp, a combination of a sore leg wound and the booze flowing through his blood.
So he sat down to get his breath back. He'd only intended to do so for a minute or two but the moment he made contact with the cold metal he realised that something was wrong.
He ended up sitting on Bender, not a trash can lid at all.
"Hey what the hell?" a loud and confused male voice rumbled suddenly from somewhere underneath Dean's ass. Dean startled, jumped off the talking trash can and stood ready in a (slightly wobbly) fighting stance.
Dean watched in shock as the trash can moved, shuffling forward. It then grew arms and legs, or so it seemed, and Dean noticed that a tiny antennae poked out of the top of a very metal and very shiny head.
Two great big eyes, like light bulbs, suddenly appeared from behind a visor that slowly lifted with a whirr. The eyes focused on Dean, still stood completely motionless, and then elongated until Dean was convinced that they'd fall out.
"Holy crap, what the hell is this place!" The robot, for that is what it was, looked around the alley and then opened a small door on the front of its silver body. It pulled out a bottle a beer, popping the top using the edge of what Dean supposed one would call the robot's shoulder. "And who the hell are you?" It took a great gulp and belched loudly, a small flame coming from its grid-like mouth. Dean jumped back, startled. The robot sighed in satisfaction and put its eyes back in as if it was the most normal and natural thing in the world.
"Who the hell am I?" Dean managed to splutter, his own eyes wide. "Who - what - the hell are you?"
"I asked first, meatbag," the robot replied casually, folding its mechanical arms.
Dean frowned. He'd recovered surprisingly quickly from the initial shock of finding a talking scrap of metal next to a load of trash (he was a hunter of the Supernatural after all…or maybe his drunkenness was impairing his rational thought) and was now plain pissed off that he'd been insulted. Or at least he was pretty sure that he had been. "Who're you calling meatbag, metal ass?" Dean demanded, putting his hands on his hips.
"You, meatbag," replied the robot casually. Rummaging around in its hollow body again, it pulled out a cigar, held it to its mouth as it belched fire a second time and then placed the tip of the cigar in its mouth.
It inhaled and exhaled, causing a large puff of smoke to cover Dean's face.
Dean coughed, his face crumpling in disgust, but then he grinned smugly. The robot was a fair bit shorter than him. "Didn't your mother ever teach you that smoking can stunt your growth?" Dean asked, sadly proud of his insult. "And since when can robots smoke and drink anyway?" he added as a not so impressive afterthought.
"Since forever," the mouthy machine said pointlessly. "Now shut your trap, chump." It looked around again. "I'm trying to work out where the hell I am."
And with that the robot began to walk away. Its feet made a small metallic clack with each step and the sound echoed off the alley's dank walls. Dean watched for a moment before curiosity overwhelmed him. "Hey. Dude, do you have a name?"
"Yeah. It's Bender, but what's it to you, kid?"
"'Bender'? The hell kind of name is that?"
"A better one than 'meatbag'."
"My name's Dean, asshole!" Dean said through gritted teeth. He ran to catch up with Bender. "You're really not a people person are you?" Dean asked, his hands now in fists by his sides. "And I still don't know who you are."
"I told you," Bender said, still walking. "I'm Bender. I'm a bender. I bend things." The robot took another drag from his cigar. "And no, I'm not. I hate humans."
"Ha, I hear ya," Dean muttered under his breath.
"Say what?" Bender stopped walking abruptly. "You hate 'em too?"
Dean nodded. "Most people are crazy," he said casually. "I've learnt that the hard way. A lot of them aren't even worth saving."
And then Bender did something completely unexpected. He took out another bottle of beer, opened it on his shoulder again, handed it to Dean and then patted Dean on the back in the most manly way possible for a non-man. Dean didn't think it would be cool, wise or terribly appropriate to admit it but the pat kinda hurt.
"You're my kind of human, Dean," Bender said. If possible, his eyes seemed to shine with pride. "You're my kind of human."
Bender and Dean were running as if their lives depended on it, their hands full of bags of potato chips, cans of cheap beer and a dollar note or two. Bender's stomach was stuffed to the brim with bottles of even more beverages.
As the two of them ran away from the grocery store, their stolen foodstuffs rattling and clanking loudly, Dean grinned. For the first time in way too long he was actually enjoying himself. Sure, he was no longer able to show his face anywhere in the state of Kansas, and his only companion was a freakin' robot from another millennium for God's sake, but he was having a hell of a lot of fun.
"Dean, you're a genius!" Bender exclaimed, once they were back at Dean's motel room and safely away from view. "Your robbery skills are almost more expert than mine!"
"Family trade," Dean shrugged and delved his hand into a bag of chips. The crunch of them being crushed was a satisfying sound and made Dean smile. "Dude, it totally wouldn't have happened if you hadn't acted it all out so well!"
"Hey, you were the one who thought up the 'human-kidnapped-by-a-robot' idea. You played the terrified, innocent customer perfectly. I just had to act scary."
"And a fine scary you make." Dean frowned. "Wait, that didn't make much sense."
"You ain't drunk enough," Bender stated, flinging a bottle at Dean. The bottle hit Dean in the arm and he rubbed at the sore spot after opening up the beer. "To drunkenness!" Bender said, raising his own bottle before downing the warm alcohol.
"Aren't there any robots at all in this time?" Bender asked when they were driving down some unknown highway. Bored of that motel, in that town, in that county, Dean had felt the need to drive his car for a while and get back on the road. It wasn't safe to stay in one area for too long anyway ever since the grocery store incident.
"Nope," Dean said simply to Bender's question. He popped a cassette into the tape deck and the music of Deep Purple started up.
"Then what's the point of having this pimpmobile?" Bender asked, kicking at the inside of the passenger door. "And why do you keep playing this crappy classical music?"
"Hey!" Dean shouted. "Hands and feet off the car or I'll use your head to knock any dents out. And no criticisin' the music either."
"You know, I like your attitude, Dean," Bender said, pointing a finger at his friend. He stretched his arms out above his head and sighed. "You're kinda feisty. Don't get many humans like that anymore. Most of them are lazy asses who're all talk and no action. You're like me. If a dumbass is being an ass, you'd kick him in the ass."
Dean smiled, not taking his eyes off the road. "Are you programmed to have only a very limited vocabulary or something?"
"Bite my shiny metal ass," Bender said with as much feeling as possible. Dean threw his head back and laughed.
It was six days after Dean and Bender first met that the Planet Express arrived to take the robot home. They were sat on the hood of the Impala in an empty parking lot at night, counting their money and enjoying their beer, when a white flash that momentarily blinded Dean lit up the dark sky.
From nowhere a huge craft, a space ship Dean told himself afterwards, landed dangerously close to the Impala. The ship was green, and landed effortlessly with the smallest amount of noise and jolt.
Dean saw the conflict in the robot's face as it changed from relief to regret.
"They've found me," Bender said quietly and Dean nodded his acceptance. It was bound to happen sooner or later after all and there was nothing that Dean could do about it.
With a hissing of hydraulics, a stairway descended onto the tarmac of the parking lot and several people began the walk down. Well, not exactly people. Not the sort that Dean was used to seeing anyway.
There was a young guy with bright orange hair, and what appeared to be a very old man in a lab coat and slippers. And there was a girl, in a tank top and black trousers, who caught Dean's eye immediately.
She was kind of hot, for a chick that looked like a cartoon character. With purple hair. And only one, great big, freaky eye.
Ok, so she was a little unusual, but Dean could cope with that. Her boobs were fantastic after all and he'd always had a thing for women in combat boots.
"Hey I'm Dean," he greeted her as the group approached the car. He offered her his hand and tried with all his might to keep his gaze above her neckline.
"Hey, back off, tall guy!" the orangehead said. "That's my possible future girlfriend you're talking to!" Dean did back off, holding his hands up in a sign of peace, but the guy was such a short ass that Dean had to admit that he didn't feel even the slightest bit threatened.
"We're here to rescue Bender," the woman said matter-of-factly, ignoring the dumb guy's outburst. It seemed like she was pretty used to hearing them. "I'm Leela, that's Fry and that's Professor Farnsworth." The professor nodded a greeting. Fry narrowed his eyes at Dean.
"Er, hi," Dean said, and he waved, actually waved to them. Now he felt stupid. But it thankfully looked like his audience was over.
"Bender, we've been looking all over for you!" Fry said. "We checked the local bars, the local strip clubs and we even checked the gutters in case you were swept up there. When we saw that the beer in the refrigerator was untouched we really began to worry." Fry looked around. "So this is 2006 huh? Looks like I got out of this millennium at the right time. What a dump."
Dean bit his tongue to refrain from defending his millennium. The idea sounded ridiculous even within his own head.
"How'd you find me anyway? And what took you so long?" Bender asked. He lit up a cigar and, with a sense of immature pride, Dean noticed that Bender had yet to move from his seating position next to Dean. "Not that I'm complaining at all. Dean and I have had a blast." He laughed wickedly and Dean grinned. Dean didn't miss the look of annoyance that crossed Fry's face.
"It was the professor who thought that you might have been transported to a different time," Leela explained further, clearly uninterested in whatever antics Bender and Dean had got up to. This was not a woman to be messed with. "He was the one to find a way to get us back here to rescue you."
"With 1.21 gigawatts of power!" the professor exclaimed excitedly, nearly falling over in his enthusiasm.
"He's been saying that for days now," Leela told Dean apologetically, as he had jumped significantly at the professor's explosion of words. "And we still don't understand what it means. But whatever he did it seems to have worked so I'm not complaining."
Dean didn't know why but that explanation seemed awfully familiar…
"Well I'm afraid we have to take him back now," Leela said after a moment of awkward silence. She stood tall to show her authority, as if preparing for any sort of resistance. "A robot can't survive in this primitive age and he belongs back with us."
"Well, so long, buddy," Bender said offhandedly, jumping off the car and walking away. "Was nice meeting you I guess." But as Bender turned back, Dean saw the sadness in Bender's eyes.
"See you, Bender," Dean said softly. "Good luck."
The rest of the crew turned and made their way back up the stairs, Fry in front, looking over his shoulder occasionally to scowl at Dean. Leela waved kindly before disappearing from sight and the professor…well, Dean didn't think that the man really had any clue who he was, let alone where he was.
When Bender reached the top of the stairs, and was the only one still in Dean's view, the robot turned again. "Goodbye Dean Winchester! This was but the beginning of a beautiful friendship," Bender called wistfully. Dean was pretty sure that robots couldn't cry, but it sounded like Bender was on the verge of tears anyway. The stairs began to lift and soon all Dean could see was Bender's head poking out from the top. As the space craft took off, and the engines roared, Dean heard three last words being carried on the air. "I'll come back!" Bender promised and then with a white flash and sharp pressure on Dean's ears, the ship, and Bender, were gone.
END – well done for getting through it :P
A/N: Thanks very much for reading. Hope it was entertaining :p