Dealing With A Winchester

E/O Drabble challenge, word: grade.

Summary: Sometimes it's hard to tell whether it's easier to deal with angry spirits or pissed-off Winchesters …

A/N: Please take my triple excuses – I was a good girl most of the times, but I couldn't handle this drabble with only a 100 words – it just grew to 300 on the dot. Sue me :) Becky, honey – this one's for you (especially the Dr. Jones part) – for being such a great person and friend. Hope you enjoy.

He turned at the ringing of the doorbell, adjusting his silk tie.

His smile died an instant death when he spotted the two men slowly walking along the expensive glass cabinets. Shabby jackets, torn jeans, and … God, dirty boots leaving spatters on his Persian carpet. And they were huge. Maybe he should call the …

"Excuse me, what's the price of this dagger?"


"You mean this exquisite original Gurkha kukri?"

"Gurwhat? Yeah, exactly."

"That would be way off your pay grade. Sir."

"Doctor, in fact. Doctor Jones. And how would you know?"

Was there a dangerous glimmer in these green eyes? How far to the alarm button under the counter? Why did the guy with the shaggy haircut seem so utterly distressed?

"Err, sorry, Sir. Only a guess."

"Well, guess again. Now, I'm sure you've heard about the series of unresolved fatalities in antique stores allover Washington, did you?"

"I …"

"And you know about cursed objects?"


"As it happens we're here to save you from a very unpleasant … accident. Sir! Angry dead Gurk-spirits ain't as patient as we are. You fancy life?"


"Well then, live long and prosper, old boy. We'll care about this fatal weapon. You don't have to wrap it – thank you. Have a nice day."

The doorbell woke him from his emotional stupor.

He … he was a survivor! It felt good to be a survivor. He glanced at the muddy footprints and decided to close the shop and spend the afternoon at the pub. For once in his life he had a story to tell. He chuckled hysterically.




"There are no cursed Gurkha kukris!"


"And no dead antique shop owners."

"Lucky him."

"You're a thief!"

"And he is an arrogant little scumbag. Let's call it quits, Sammy."