storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2009-10-30 09:01 am
storypaint) wrote2009-10-30 09:01 am
Not A Date I Swear (Dean/Triana)
Title: Not A Date I Swear
Fandom: Venture Brothers
Length: 1297 words
Prompt:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
31_days: 21 Oct 09 // In the midst of this world/ we stroll along the roof of hell/ gawking at flowers; bright autumn, Dean/Triana for ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
oystermato
Pairing: Dean/Triana; mostly gen
Other: AU in that this should be S4 Halloween due to events mentioned, but it has a S3 feel.
Excerpt: Triana sighed, setting down the book and turning off her music. "I remember, Dad. Don't you have a spirit to decant or something?"
There was an extremely polite knock at the front door around two o'clock, and Triana ignored it mostly because she hadn't heard it. Her father was doing something creepy in his study, and she'd found it necessary to put in headphones and blare showtunes in her ears to drown out the screams. After a minutes, she barely registered her father stride down the hall, and then he came back and knocked at her door.
"Pumpkin?" he said, peering around the doorframe at his daughter, who was curled up on her bed, trying to ignore the occult in her house with both the aforementioned headphones and a dull book she had to read for class. Dr. Orpheus had clearly been interrupted mid-ritual. His hair was slick, his collar was high, and there was something wispy and dangerous curling around his shiny shoes.
"That Dean Venture is here to see you," he said, his voice for a moment disapproving. "You remember what I told you about the Venture boys, don't you, dear?"
Triana sighed, setting down the book and turning off her music. "I remember, Dad. Don't you have a spirit to decant or something?"
The necromancer looked down at the mist around his ankles, which was getting thicker and also rising slowly in a somewhat ominous manner. "You're right!" he declared dramatically. "It is a matter of GRAVE IMPORTANCE!"
Triana rolled her eyes at the pun and went to see what Dean wanted.
*
Dean was wearing his speedsuit because he'd come to associate it with formalwear. He only wore it when his father forced him to, which was generally when they had some dinner or award show to go to. A few misguided attempts through the wash had further deformed its already unfortunate shape, making it looser in the behind and tighter in the chest. He was also wearing something like half a bottle of his father's cologne, because all of that cloning hadn't done anything toward improving his skills with the ladies.
It smelled like grape soda, actually, and Triana wrinkled her nose and stared at the boy.
"T-triana!" Dean stuttered, seeming surprised to see her. "Isn't it a lovely day?"
His voice wavered up an octave and back down. If she were truly honest with herself, Triana would admit it was cute, this ridiculous crush he had on her. Most of the boys at school didn't look twice at her. Of the ones who visited, they were all scared off by her father and his threats to sic zombies on them if they didn't get his "princess" home by ten p.m. It didn't help when he had both photographic evidence of said zombies, and baby pictures of her to show off.
"Yeah, I guess," she admitted. She hadn't been outside yet. She had been out partying late last night and hadn't bothered to get out of bed until around noon.
"I was wondering," he said, and gulped, "if you would want to take a walk with me? Maybe?"
"Why do you smell like grape soda?" she asked.
"I, um--" Dean paused. "Grape soda?"
There was another blood-curdling howl from the direction of the necromancer's study.
"I'll go get some shoes," she said, sighing, because the sun would probably be slightly less painful than doing homework and listening to shouting in stereo (as Dr. Orpheus himself picked up the chorus in alarm).
*
They ran into Hank when they cut through the hangar to tell Brock where they were going. Luckily, it was October, so he was wearing his Batman costume and uninterested in interruptions.
She wondered if he really did wear it every day. Dean mumbled something about having to "peel it off in November." Which was gross, and something she was glad not to think about when they ran into Brock, who was fiddling with something under his cool old car again.
"Why do you smell like grape soda, Dean?" the bodyguard asked, wheeling himself out from underneath and looking from Dean to Triana and back. Triana wasn't sure she liked his appraisal.
"Brock!" Dean whined. "I don't. I borrowed--" He glanced at Triana. "Never mind." He waggled his eyebrows, apparently trying to communicate something to the blond man. Triana looked away because it was that or laugh.
Brock shrugged. "Take Hank w--"
Triana imagined the eyebrow-wrangling that went into that communique, and giggled a little. Brock sighed.
"He's driving me crazy. Like usual. You haven't seen your father around, have you?"
"No. We're going to go now, Brock, okay? For a walk around the compound," Dean said quickly.
"You kids have fun," Brock answered, wheeling himself back under the car.
Triana opened her mouth to protest-- it wasn't like this was a date, no matter what Dean seemed to be also assuming-- but Dean grabbed her hand and dragged her away before Hank could toss another Batarang in their direction. They were just Frisbees with bat symbols inked on in Sharpie, but they were still getting annoying.
*
The problem with leaving the compound, however, was that then there was no distractions, and suddenly nothing to talk about. Dean had dropped her hand as soon as he realized he was holding it. Probably thought she had cooties, Triana thought pessimistically.
But when he managed to relax, finally, and when she managed to ignore the grape soda odor, she realized he was charming, in a dorky sort of way. He certainly wasn't her first choice boy... or really her second... or third or-- well, in any case, he wasn't last. And that counted for something.
He told her a story about last year's Halloween, and how Hank had somehow managed to almost get himself married to someone called Under-bite or something like that (which Triana thought was weird, because hadn't he dressed like Batman last year too?). And then there were other tales of weird place he'd visited with his family, and when all else failed, they looked at clouds, though Triana was always half worried to see something dangerous in them. Ominous clouds seemed to collect around her father. She was never quite sure if he brought them intentionally or if they came with the job. In any case, they weren't as awful as the portal in her closet, but they weren't really pleasant, either.
When he walked her back to her door, he leaned forward for a kiss and she shook his hand instead, a move that seemed to confuse him at first, but he then accepted enthusiastically, pumping her hand in both of his.
"I, um, I had a good time," he said, blushing.
"It wasn't so bad," Triana admitted, managing a small smile. "Thanks."
She ended up shutting the door in his face, because Dean didn't have the best reflexes, but she figured he wouldn't mind.
He probably minded when she shot back out, screaming at the thing her father had raised this time, but he'd forgive her. After all, he didn't like zombies either. Even when they were seasonally appropriate.
***************
"Doc, why are you drinking your cologne? Did you take too many diet pills?"
Brock grabbed the bottle from Dr. Venture's hands, but the shorter man scowled at him and took it back.
"No, Brock, I got tired of Hank stealing all of the soda out of the fridge. I figured if I put it in this bottle, he wouldn't bother with it."
Venture held up the bottle under his bodyguard's nose. Brock sniffled it and then chuckled a little.
"What?" Venture whined.
"Nothing," Brock answered. "Nothing weird at all."
"You're just jealous that I have grape soda and you don't!" Venture yelled at his bodyguard's retreating back. Brock just shook his head, and smiled a little.
Fandom: Venture Brothers
Length: 1297 words
Prompt:
31_days: 21 Oct 09 // In the midst of this world/ we stroll along the roof of hell/ gawking at flowers; bright autumn, Dean/Triana for oystermatoPairing: Dean/Triana; mostly gen
Other: AU in that this should be S4 Halloween due to events mentioned, but it has a S3 feel.
Excerpt: Triana sighed, setting down the book and turning off her music. "I remember, Dad. Don't you have a spirit to decant or something?"
There was an extremely polite knock at the front door around two o'clock, and Triana ignored it mostly because she hadn't heard it. Her father was doing something creepy in his study, and she'd found it necessary to put in headphones and blare showtunes in her ears to drown out the screams. After a minutes, she barely registered her father stride down the hall, and then he came back and knocked at her door.
"Pumpkin?" he said, peering around the doorframe at his daughter, who was curled up on her bed, trying to ignore the occult in her house with both the aforementioned headphones and a dull book she had to read for class. Dr. Orpheus had clearly been interrupted mid-ritual. His hair was slick, his collar was high, and there was something wispy and dangerous curling around his shiny shoes.
"That Dean Venture is here to see you," he said, his voice for a moment disapproving. "You remember what I told you about the Venture boys, don't you, dear?"
Triana sighed, setting down the book and turning off her music. "I remember, Dad. Don't you have a spirit to decant or something?"
The necromancer looked down at the mist around his ankles, which was getting thicker and also rising slowly in a somewhat ominous manner. "You're right!" he declared dramatically. "It is a matter of GRAVE IMPORTANCE!"
Triana rolled her eyes at the pun and went to see what Dean wanted.
*
Dean was wearing his speedsuit because he'd come to associate it with formalwear. He only wore it when his father forced him to, which was generally when they had some dinner or award show to go to. A few misguided attempts through the wash had further deformed its already unfortunate shape, making it looser in the behind and tighter in the chest. He was also wearing something like half a bottle of his father's cologne, because all of that cloning hadn't done anything toward improving his skills with the ladies.
It smelled like grape soda, actually, and Triana wrinkled her nose and stared at the boy.
"T-triana!" Dean stuttered, seeming surprised to see her. "Isn't it a lovely day?"
His voice wavered up an octave and back down. If she were truly honest with herself, Triana would admit it was cute, this ridiculous crush he had on her. Most of the boys at school didn't look twice at her. Of the ones who visited, they were all scared off by her father and his threats to sic zombies on them if they didn't get his "princess" home by ten p.m. It didn't help when he had both photographic evidence of said zombies, and baby pictures of her to show off.
"Yeah, I guess," she admitted. She hadn't been outside yet. She had been out partying late last night and hadn't bothered to get out of bed until around noon.
"I was wondering," he said, and gulped, "if you would want to take a walk with me? Maybe?"
"Why do you smell like grape soda?" she asked.
"I, um--" Dean paused. "Grape soda?"
There was another blood-curdling howl from the direction of the necromancer's study.
"I'll go get some shoes," she said, sighing, because the sun would probably be slightly less painful than doing homework and listening to shouting in stereo (as Dr. Orpheus himself picked up the chorus in alarm).
*
They ran into Hank when they cut through the hangar to tell Brock where they were going. Luckily, it was October, so he was wearing his Batman costume and uninterested in interruptions.
She wondered if he really did wear it every day. Dean mumbled something about having to "peel it off in November." Which was gross, and something she was glad not to think about when they ran into Brock, who was fiddling with something under his cool old car again.
"Why do you smell like grape soda, Dean?" the bodyguard asked, wheeling himself out from underneath and looking from Dean to Triana and back. Triana wasn't sure she liked his appraisal.
"Brock!" Dean whined. "I don't. I borrowed--" He glanced at Triana. "Never mind." He waggled his eyebrows, apparently trying to communicate something to the blond man. Triana looked away because it was that or laugh.
Brock shrugged. "Take Hank w--"
Triana imagined the eyebrow-wrangling that went into that communique, and giggled a little. Brock sighed.
"He's driving me crazy. Like usual. You haven't seen your father around, have you?"
"No. We're going to go now, Brock, okay? For a walk around the compound," Dean said quickly.
"You kids have fun," Brock answered, wheeling himself back under the car.
Triana opened her mouth to protest-- it wasn't like this was a date, no matter what Dean seemed to be also assuming-- but Dean grabbed her hand and dragged her away before Hank could toss another Batarang in their direction. They were just Frisbees with bat symbols inked on in Sharpie, but they were still getting annoying.
*
The problem with leaving the compound, however, was that then there was no distractions, and suddenly nothing to talk about. Dean had dropped her hand as soon as he realized he was holding it. Probably thought she had cooties, Triana thought pessimistically.
But when he managed to relax, finally, and when she managed to ignore the grape soda odor, she realized he was charming, in a dorky sort of way. He certainly wasn't her first choice boy... or really her second... or third or-- well, in any case, he wasn't last. And that counted for something.
He told her a story about last year's Halloween, and how Hank had somehow managed to almost get himself married to someone called Under-bite or something like that (which Triana thought was weird, because hadn't he dressed like Batman last year too?). And then there were other tales of weird place he'd visited with his family, and when all else failed, they looked at clouds, though Triana was always half worried to see something dangerous in them. Ominous clouds seemed to collect around her father. She was never quite sure if he brought them intentionally or if they came with the job. In any case, they weren't as awful as the portal in her closet, but they weren't really pleasant, either.
When he walked her back to her door, he leaned forward for a kiss and she shook his hand instead, a move that seemed to confuse him at first, but he then accepted enthusiastically, pumping her hand in both of his.
"I, um, I had a good time," he said, blushing.
"It wasn't so bad," Triana admitted, managing a small smile. "Thanks."
She ended up shutting the door in his face, because Dean didn't have the best reflexes, but she figured he wouldn't mind.
He probably minded when she shot back out, screaming at the thing her father had raised this time, but he'd forgive her. After all, he didn't like zombies either. Even when they were seasonally appropriate.
***************
"Doc, why are you drinking your cologne? Did you take too many diet pills?"
Brock grabbed the bottle from Dr. Venture's hands, but the shorter man scowled at him and took it back.
"No, Brock, I got tired of Hank stealing all of the soda out of the fridge. I figured if I put it in this bottle, he wouldn't bother with it."
Venture held up the bottle under his bodyguard's nose. Brock sniffled it and then chuckled a little.
"What?" Venture whined.
"Nothing," Brock answered. "Nothing weird at all."
"You're just jealous that I have grape soda and you don't!" Venture yelled at his bodyguard's retreating back. Brock just shook his head, and smiled a little.
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