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Fic: Learning How to Negotiate

Learning How to Negotiate

By PaBurke

Prompt/Summary: Grief Therapy/Learning How to Fly - With Bobby, Dean and Methos

Rating: teen

Spoilers: All of Learning How to Fly and drabbles, also my story Grief Therapy

For lita_of_jupiter, Merry Christmas

Bobby’s place was a kind of safe, neutral ground.  Dean knew and appreciated it; he only wished that Bobby had more beer like the neutral ground in Chicago.  So when Bobby asked him to visit during leave for business, Dean thought nothing of it.  Dean arrived and there was one strange car in the driveway.  It was a generic sedan and Dean would bet that it was a rental picked up at the airport.  There were three types of people that visited Bobby.  The first were Hunters and they drove well-maintained older cars.  Second were mechanics and people needing car parts.  Again, they mostly drove well-maintained older cars.  The final category consisted of academics.  People came from all over the world.  Bobby had connected with them mostly for book exchanges.

So Dean was not surprised to walk into a three-way argument about some obscure translation.  And while some of the argument was in English, most of it wasn’t.  Dean wasn’t even sure what language the men were utilizing and that was a bit surprising.  Dean waved at the men as he passed through the living room.  He left his duffle at the foot of the stairs and moseyed into the kitchen to help himself to a beer.

At the sound of the fridge being opened, one of the visitors yelled, “Bring enough beer to share.”

Dean waited a moment and since Bobby didn’t agree, Dean left the beers in the fridge and walked back into the meeting area sipping his beer.

Both of the strangers were amused by Dean’s noncompliance.

“You can get the beers,” Bobby allowed grudgingly.

“None for me, thank you,” the Brit said.  He was stereotypically drinking tea from the daintiest mug Bobby owned.

“I’ll take his,” the other stranger offered.

Dean sat down at the table across from Bobby and waited.  Bobby wasn’t giving him the stink eye telling him to behave, so Dean didn’t.  He had taken too many orders while on base and he was going to disobey every order for the next three days.  Again, the strangers were amused by Dean.

“Dean, this is Rupert Giles and Adam Pierson from probably the best occult library in the world,” Bobby introduced him.  “Giles and Adam, Dean Winchester, Marine and Hunter.”

“A pleasure,” Giles murmured as he shook Dean’s hand.  He was about Bobby’s age.

His partner was about Dean’s age and Dean had no idea what smart remark Adam would have said.  Dean’s hand was millimeters away from Adam’s when every internal warning system the Marine had flashed with lights and sirens.

Dean pushed himself away from the table, stood –knocking his chair over in the process- and pointed a gun at Adam.  “I don’t know what the hell you are or how the hell you got past Bobby’s wards but you have ten seconds to convince me not to blow off your head.”

Bobby was slightly alarmed at the revelation, Giles was intrigued and Adam –damn him- was still amused.  Adam snagged Dean’s beer, took a sip and said, “It’s decent beer, Shaman.  You shouldn’t waste it with violence.”  Adam knew how to divert attention expertly.  Both Bobby and Giles were appraising Dean as a shaman.  Bobby looked slightly disgruntled that Dean hadn’t told him about this particular update. 

“You haven’t told me how you passed the wards,” Dean growled.

“I passed the wards because I wasn’t a threat,” Adam stated,  “I haven’t met a shaman in ages and now you are the second one in five years.”

“What are you,” Dean demanded.

“I am nothing that you Hunt, chit.”

“What are you, Old One,” Dean asked again.  Dean had meant ‘Old One’ as a matching insult to ‘chit’ but the words resonated with truth as they passed his lips.

“You already know,” answered Adam.

Tell me.”

“I am an Old One that means you no harm.”

Dean breathed in and out.  Considering how wound up he was, all the other men were rather blasé about his outburst and his gun.  He expected it from Bobby and the Old One but even Giles had some combat experience under his belt.  Finally Dean decided that he didn’t have to attempt to kill Adam immediately so he holstered his gun and went to the kitchen to get himself a cup of coffee.  No more beer for him.  Adam might be confident enough to get buzzed –or he couldn’t get drunk- but Dean wanted to be alert for this conversation.  The drive from the SGC to Bobby’s could have dulled his senses and sensibilities.

This time, when Dean joined the table, he sat down a coffee for himself (black) and one for Bobby (with a splash of cream, no sugar).  “Okay, why am I here?” Dean asked the men.

“We were hoping that you could use your connections to get Adam off-planet, like you did with Oz,” Giles explained.

Dean’s answer was succinct.  “Hell.  No.”

“I had tried to get into the SGC myself,” Adam admitted.  “But all entrances are guarded and the ID security checks are stringent.”

“And the computers are unhackable,” Dean added proudly.  “Yeah, they learned from my fake ID and made it pretty impossible to fake your way in.”

“What do you want from me to let me through the Chapp’ii?” Adam asked bluntly.

“Nothing.  I won’t risk my friends, my base and my homeworld, not to mention my reputation to let you wander the universe.”

“I have information,” Adam tempted.

Dean was smarter than that.  “How far out of date?”

“A couple thousand years.”  Adam apparently had figured out that Dean would spot any lie.  Or he knew more about the shaman thing than Dean did.

“You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“I’ll give ten years of service to your cause.”

Dean looked the Old One up and down.  To anyone else in this day and age ten years of service would be a sacrifice, but Adam was offering it up like it was a used t-shirt.  “Thirty,” was the counter offer.

Adam shook his head.  “No.  People get too suspicious if I hung around that long.  There’s not enough hair dye to make that believable.”

“Twenty-five,” Dean reduced his offer slightly.  “Final offer.  What can you give us?”

“I’m fluent in most of the languages of Earth and can quickly learn another.”

“And,” Dean prodded.

“Decent with most weapons, expert with a sword.”

Dean took another sip of his coffee and considered it.  “I’d have to tell the general everything.”

“Everything,” Adam blanched.


Giles leaned forward to catch his friend’s attention.  “General O’Neill knows everything about Oz.  And still took him and placed him where he’d be useful and enjoy his service.”

“Everything,” Adam said again.

Dean looked a little smug.

Adam grumbled.  “I’ll consider your offer.”

“You do that,” Dean said.  “If that’s all, I’m going upstairs to sleep for a week.”  He drained his coffee, knowing that it wouldn’t keep him awake for long and did just as he said.

Neither Giles nor Adam was in the house when he woke up.



( 6 comments — Leave a comment )
Dec. 30th, 2011 03:41 am (UTC)
Yes! ^_^

More Learning to Fly verse and a somewhat sequel to Grief Therapy to boot.

I would dearly dearly love to see Methos in the SGC and even more so see he in Atlantis where there is a chance of Methos vs Wraith. LOL
Dec. 31st, 2011 04:30 pm (UTC)
I'm glad you enjoyed this. Methos is always fun.
Jan. 4th, 2012 02:38 pm (UTC)
Oh. My. God. Gah! More from this 'verse please! I simply adore shaman!Dean from the Learning How to Fly 'verse. I'm in bliss here. And adding mpMethos to the mix...*swoons* Love! More please?
Jan. 6th, 2012 01:46 am (UTC)
I'm glad that this was enjoyed! thx for review
Dec. 10th, 2012 04:48 pm (UTC)
I can't believe \I didn't put my review here last year! I was positive I had, especially considering this is on my favorite fics file!

I really loved this especially with the hints that arise from the background and I liked that Dean was protective but that Methos didn't take him up on it since he would not allow for that kind of information leak, especially with a military organization...

maybe the guards of the chinese gate will be more welcoming of a new guy
Dec. 10th, 2012 09:31 pm (UTC)
I'm glad you did enjoy it (and let me know). I definitely wouldn't have written it, 'cept for you.

And while several different people would accept Methos, there was no way he'd tell them that much of the truth.
( 6 comments — Leave a comment )


vi, no words

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