Bela Talbot (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
enjoythe_ride) wrote2007-11-05 11:43 am
enjoythe_ride) wrote2007-11-05 11:43 am
[ROTM] Enforcer
OOC: Quotes in italics are taken directly from the episode, therefore -- spoilers.
“No. You’re not gonna shoot anybody.”
Dean Winchester was an overconfident idiot.
She had realized he was cocky, but she didn’t realize he was an absolute fool to go along with it. She was standing there, in a graveyard, pointing a gun at them, and he was going to launch into some long winded speech about how he could “read” people and that she wasn’t going to shoot anyone? He was clearly more delusional than she had given him credit for.
Maybe it was the luck gone to his head, or maybe he really did think that he could tell everything he wanted to know about people just by talking with them, but there was no way she was going to live up to his expectations. She had no problem shooting people. When there was one and a half million at stake, she had no problem doing anything.
“Okay, you’re a thief, fine, but you’re not—”
BANG!
Besides she had to shut him up somehow. Since Sammy Boy seemed to be the most important thing in his world at the moment, a measly little shoulder hit ought to do the trick.
“Son of a—”
“Back off, tiger. Back off. You make one more move and I’ll pull the trigger.”
The look on his face was absolutely delicious. The shock, surprise—floundering for an appropriate response to what was clearly, in his mind, something she just wouldn’t do. Really now, Dean? Making assumptions like that about people you barely know? You really ought to know better by now. Especially when ninety-five percent of the time that you’ve spent with that person, they’ve been aim a gun at you. She even shot at him in her apartment for Christ’s sake.
“You’ve got the luck, Dean—you, I can’t hit. But your brother? Him I can’t miss.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?!?! You can’t just go around shooting people like that?!?!”
“Relax—it’s a shoulder hit; I can aim. Besides—who here hasn’t shot a few people?”
No response.
That’s what she thought.
Granted the slippery bastard still got her in the end, and she’s out over a million, but at forty-six thousand isn’t exactly chump change. She’d get them to make up the rest to her someday. After all, she had a feeling she definitely would be seeing them again. It was only a matter of time.
399 w/ quotes, 316 w/o
“No. You’re not gonna shoot anybody.”
Dean Winchester was an overconfident idiot.
She had realized he was cocky, but she didn’t realize he was an absolute fool to go along with it. She was standing there, in a graveyard, pointing a gun at them, and he was going to launch into some long winded speech about how he could “read” people and that she wasn’t going to shoot anyone? He was clearly more delusional than she had given him credit for.
Maybe it was the luck gone to his head, or maybe he really did think that he could tell everything he wanted to know about people just by talking with them, but there was no way she was going to live up to his expectations. She had no problem shooting people. When there was one and a half million at stake, she had no problem doing anything.
“Okay, you’re a thief, fine, but you’re not—”
BANG!
Besides she had to shut him up somehow. Since Sammy Boy seemed to be the most important thing in his world at the moment, a measly little shoulder hit ought to do the trick.
“Son of a—”
“Back off, tiger. Back off. You make one more move and I’ll pull the trigger.”
The look on his face was absolutely delicious. The shock, surprise—floundering for an appropriate response to what was clearly, in his mind, something she just wouldn’t do. Really now, Dean? Making assumptions like that about people you barely know? You really ought to know better by now. Especially when ninety-five percent of the time that you’ve spent with that person, they’ve been aim a gun at you. She even shot at him in her apartment for Christ’s sake.
“You’ve got the luck, Dean—you, I can’t hit. But your brother? Him I can’t miss.”
“What the hell is wrong with you?!?! You can’t just go around shooting people like that?!?!”
“Relax—it’s a shoulder hit; I can aim. Besides—who here hasn’t shot a few people?”
No response.
That’s what she thought.
Granted the slippery bastard still got her in the end, and she’s out over a million, but at forty-six thousand isn’t exactly chump change. She’d get them to make up the rest to her someday. After all, she had a feeling she definitely would be seeing them again. It was only a matter of time.
399 w/ quotes, 316 w/o