To carry out their latest hunt, the boys have to crash a Renaissance Fair. Fancy Dress is the order of the day … one of our brothers copes better than the other.

A 3 x100 word triabble by Amberdreams, Dizzo and Edina Clouds (not necessarily in that order)

Challenge word is shelter. Our word is behind.

Disclaimer: We don't own them however much we plot and scheme.


"Dean, are you ever coming out? You've been in that bathroom longer than any girl…"

Muffled swearing was the only response from behind the firmly locked door.

Sam smoothed his tabard down and fiddled with his sword, checking the overall effect in the motel-room's tiny mirror as best he could. He made a pretty fine looking Knight Templar, though he said it himself.

Dean finally emerged, resplendent, from his bathroom shelter, a massive scowl on his pretty face.

"Still don't see why I had to be frickin' Spartacus!"

"The skirt's too short for me, Dean."

"I don't do skirts, Sam!"


By the time they reached the hotel lobby a multitude of costumed guests had already arrived. Cowboys mingled with Indians at the bar whilst a group of Snow Whites stood admiring all male party goers – especially Dean.

Unusually uncomfortable, the older Winchester hid behind his brother, seeking shelter from an onslaught of female (and in some cases male) admiration.

"Dude, how much longer do I have to wear this? This frickin' armour's too tight's digging into places you don't wanna know about."

"You're right I don't wanna know," Sam grinned. "Just hang in there ... it'll soon be midnight."


"Dean, please don't bend down."

"What? I dropped my napkin."

"Well, you just mooned the whole room dude; Florence Nightingale behind you nearly fainted."

"Hate this," Dean whined, tugging forlornly on his tunic, trying to provide some shelter for his nether regions.

"It didn't do Kirk Douglas any harm," grinned Sam; "anyway, be thankful you're not wearing a codpiece. I just went to pee and needed an engineering degree to get into it."

Dean scowled; "this friggin' spirit's gonna regret this humiliation."

Suddenly, a lithe, leather-clad beauty appeared; "I'm Amazone, the Gladiatrix, who are you?"

Dean grinned ...

"I'm Spartacus!"



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