Challenge Word: grate
Disclaimer: See chapter one
Word Count: Very much exceeds 100 once again.
Previously: "That doesn't matter boy. You don't pull shit like this at my house, and especially not when your brother is hurt." Bobby bellowed. "And let me tell you another thing, as soon as I get finished with business in the damn outhouse, you and I will be having a talk and I don't mean with just our mouths either," Bobby warned Dean as he dashed towards the dreaded outhouse since Sam had the bathroom occupied.
Thinking about Bobby's words, Dean seriously contemplated getting in the Impala and not sparing the horses as he took off. Bobby had a hard hand when it came down to being punished and he knew his ass was in for it, but then he also figured he probably deserved the punishment this time. After all, Bobby had warned him about not pulling anything while staying at his house, but he just couldn't resist the temptation. Losing himself in thought as he remembered all the other times he and Sam had done things to grate on Bobby's nerves over the years, Dean didn't hear the approach of the grizzled hunter and was surprised to find himself suddenly bent over the table top.
"Whoa, Bobby, what the hell?" Dean gasped, just before he felt a stinging pain in his backside as Bobby landed that first hard swat on his upturned derriere.
"Don't whoa me, ya idjit. I warned you what would happen if you pulled one of your pranks while here," Bobby intoned as he brought his hand down hard on Dean's denim clad backside once again.
"But, you can't do th-this," Dean hissed as Bobby started landing the swats in rapid fire succession.
"Looks to me like I can," Bobby retorted, shaking his hand out before landing a few more swats as Dean began to squirm under his hands.
"Shit Bobby, that hurts," Dean hissed as a particularly hard swat landed.
"Well, maybe it will make you think before you start your prank war at my place once again," Bobby informed Dean, just as Sam came limping down the stairs to catch the last of Dean's punishment being administered.
"I will, I promise," Dean replied, standing up to rub the pain out of his backside as Bobby finally released him. "Jeez Bobby, did you have to hit so hard? That hurt like a bitch!"
"Quit whining Dean," Sam smirked as he hobbled down the last step. "You know you deserved…Owww, what the hell?"
"You ain't innocent in this yourself boy, so shut your trap before I give you a round of what I just gave your brother," Bobby warned, shaking his hand out once again after landing the warning swat on Sam's backside.
"Yes Sir," Sam replied meekly, knowing damn well that Bobby would follow through on his threat.
"Now, let's get things straight. You boys are going to be staying here at least until Sam's ankle is healed and while here, you will behave yourselves. Do I make myself clear?" Bobby asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest to show he meant business.
"Yes Sir," Dean and Sam replied simultaneously, knowing what insubordination would mean for their behinds.
"Good, now that we got that straight, it's time to get to work. Sam I need you're help in translating a couple of old tomes a friend sent me a couple of days ago.
"Sure Bobby," Sam answered, walking over to the sofa and sitting down so that he could prop his swollen ankle up as he waited for bobby to get the books.
"What about me, what do you want me to do?" Dean asked, knowing Bobby probably had something planned for him to do also.
"Do you need to even ask boy? Get something done about that pink hair," Bobby stated as he shook his head in exasperation. Something told him it was going to be a long couple of weeks, but he wouldn't trade having the boys there with him for anything in the world.
THE END Thank you so much for making this drabble story such a wonderful experience for me. I can never thank you enough for all the reviews you left that kept me inspired to keep this one going. YOU ARE A FANTASTIC GROUP!