spn_springfling | Phil"adelphia" by paperlitmus for <user site="livejournal.com"

Title: Phil"adelphia"
Pairing: Erica Kripke/Robbie Thompson
Rating: PG

There was a rapping on his door. Robbie tried to blink an eye open, then gave it up as a bad job. They had just finished filming season one of Supernatural, and he was going to sleep for a week. Whoever was knocking could come back then.

The rapping escalated to a pounding. Clearly whoever that was had not got the memo re: his well deserved hibernation.

He stumbled to his feet, pulled on the jeans and t-shirt discarded on the floor and desk, respectively, and opened the door to tell whoever it was to fuck off.

It was Erica Kripke, hair tied into a sloppy ponytail and - were those hiking boots?

"Good morning," Robbie said warily.

"Have you eaten?" she said brightly.

Robbie knew he was one of those people that did not wake up gracefully. By other people's reactions, it was very obvious when he had just woken up. With this in mind, he wondered if this were a trick question. And yet, he had never heard of eating pre-hike, and this was Erica, and he usually did what she wanted. "No."

Erica, bless her, took this as encouragement. "Good! Come on, come on," she said, and shooed him into the car.

The car, the dudely automobile aficionado part of him noted through his bleary state of autopilot, was not hers. He zoned out until the engine cut off. They were in front of a diner. On the far side of town. Huh. He was never sure where Erica got her recommendations, but they were usually worth trying.

Erica chattered through sub par service, two cups of coffee and some mediocre eggs, and Robbie's noncommittal hums slowly strengthened and made the evolutionary jump into words just in time for coffee cake.

He stared at the coffee cake contemplatively. It was terrible. "This is terrible," he said.

Erica laughed and ate the last strip of rubbery bacon. "It really is, isn't it?"

Twenty minutes into their drive home, Robbie realized they were going in the opposite direction, straight out of the city. "You didn't go to that diner because someone recommended it, did you?"

Erica snorted. "No, what gave you that idea?"

Robbie turned in his seat - their seat, really, because this was an incredibly old car, something more the Winchester brothers' speed - oh god dammit.

"Erica," Robbie said in an even, measured tone. "Is there a reason you kidnapped me?"

Erica flicked her eyes over at him guiltily.

"And rented an old car to do it in?"

"It's research," said Erica. "Research! For inspiration in writing season two! We need," she said, taking a hand off of the steering wheel to gesture at the distance, "a touch of realism. We need to experience the magic of the open road." She said this last part reverently.

"The open - Where are we even going?"

Erica shrugged.

"I don't even have my phone!" Robbie realized aloud. "I can't just disappear, Erica, what if someone needs to reach me? I have a life!"

"Your answering machine message was" I will be asleep for a week, call me then." that does not sound like things to do."

Robbie spluttered.

"Relax, we can always buy burner phones if you need to call anyone." Her tone of voice changed to one of planning, as if she had all of his - very legitimate! - complaints adequately sorted. "We have to really get into the mindset. Well, not the saving things, hunting things one, but the - you know, on the road, with your best bro-"

"Shouldn't you be bringing your actual brother for this part?"

"Nah, he's busy. You're like my brother, regardless. C'mon, it'll be fun!" Erica looked deep into his eyes. Robbie felt some very un-brotherlike feelings he (reflexively, by this point) subliminated into an eye roll. He flicked her nose for good measure.

"Well, if we're going to be driving around the country aimlessly for a week -"

Erica coughed meaningfully.

Robbie resisted a sigh. "- at least a week, we'll need to stop at a thrift store for some clothes. But!" He held his hand up. "I draw the line at flannel."

~.~.~

"Sammy," said Dean.

His brother sam fell onto his knees in the mud in front of him. Dean's entire life flashed before his eyes as he ran towards him and caught his body, because clearly this was the end of everything if he couldn't - if only he could just-

Sam's body lolled lifelessly against him, eyes unfocused and uncaring, blood trickling out of his mouth.

"No- no, no no," said Dean, carding a hand through Sam's hair, as if to "Sam - Sammy!" he grabbed his brother's face, looked into his eyes, and kissed him passionately.

The moment stretched.

"Cut!" some guy in a headset proclaimed.

'Dean' pulled back from the kiss and looked over innocently at the gaggle of gobsmacked producers. His lips were smeared with fake blood. 'Sam' was frowning slightly, but looked mostly unruffled.

"Jensen, what the ****?!" said Erica, who was also aggressively waving her speaker cone through the air. Luckily her arms, and thus her reach, were short and no damage was inflicted on any surrounding animate or inanimate matter.

Jensen started to look a bit sheepish. "Sorry, I just got carried away."

"What were you thinking?! Sam and Dean are brothers!"

Jensen shrugged. "You told me to put more feeling into it."

"I don't blame him, it really seems like that's where the script is going," Robbie heard someone mutter to his right. Erica's eye started to twitch.

"Ooooookay," Robbie intervened. "Let's take five, everyone!" He was already steering Erica away before anyone responded. "Doughnuts, Erica. Let's get some doughnuts, shall we?"

~.~.~.~.~

It was a Wednesday. Like some other Wednesdays, he found her standing outside of Jensen's trailer. However, the usual snickering was absent, and she was absorbed in reading something taped to the wall.

"Are you posting fanfiction around set again?" Robbie asked.

Erica shushed him and lifted the page to read the next one. Robbie eyed the roll of masking tape slide from her wrist down (up?) her forearm. He repressed the urge to trace its progress.

"Huh," she said.

"Huh?"

"You know," she said, waving the untouched muffin in her right hand at the page, "this isn't that implausible. I mean, we did that."

Robbie leaned in to read over her shoulder. Sam was asleep against Dean's shoulder as he was driving on the page.

"Yes," he said, low and in her ear for the hell of it. "We did."

He received a blush for his efforts. Interesting. He leaned in a little bit farther and stole her muffin. He bit into it tauntingly and-

"...and the rest, as they say is history," the groom said, putting down his glass of champagne to wipe a tear from his right eye with his pocket square. The microphone broadcasted his (sincere) sniff into the drunkenly rapt silence of dolled up friends and family. silence. "The first, and probably not the last time what we thought was familial affection was something much more incestuous." He raised his glass. "To Robbie and Erica Thompson, the best people I know and the best people for one another. Hopefully in the future, they will learn to talk to each other instead of writing their feelings and arguments into their show."

"He said he wasn't going to say that part," Erica moaned.

Robbie tried to elbow her surreptitiously. "We can leave, right?" he stage whispered. "The married couple is supposed to leave during the reception, after all."

Erica was too busy mumbling to herself to hear. "Oh god, my relatives are going to start asking me whether I'm Dean or Sam in the relationship -"

They did not leave the reception early, but they did have a road trip honeymoon and kept the incestuous overtones in the show for the sake of consistent characterization. Erica has never confirmed or denied that one of them is into dogs.

The end.