fandomhigh | Firearms and You #4 (Thursday period 2)

The class met in the cabin clearing as they were ~~handwavily~~ emailed to do so.

"Hey guys," Dean said, once everyone was there. "Dad's busy relearning the joys of diapers and 2 am feedings so you get me as a teacher for the next couple of weeks.

"Today, we're going to do a little skeet shooting," Dean said, handing each person a handout on the subject. He grinned."Cept we're going to do it Winchester style.

"We never had the money or the opportunity to practice on a real genuine skeet shooting range, so we improvised. Dad bought lots of old plates from thrift stores and juryrigged a catpault to get them airborne for us to shoot. Sammy's standing over there by the catapault," Dean nodded towards where his brother was standing by a obviously homemade machine. "So all we need is some plates to put in it."

Dean grinned widely and reached into the sack on the table beside him and pulled out one of Umbridge's kitten plates and tossed it to his brother, who, wearing a matching grin, loaded it into the catapault and nodded at Dean.

Picking up his shotgun, Dean yelled, "Pull!" at which, Sam triggered the catpault and the plate went sailing high into the air. Dean tracked the plate with his gun for a heartbeat or two before firing, hitting the plate deadon, shattering it into many pieces.

Still grinning widely, Dean turned back to the class. "That's one plate down, but there's plenty more. Who wants a turn next?"

[ooc: kitten plates and little brother modded with permission, ~~wait for~~ OCD's are up! Fire at will. Or at kitten plates!]

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"Ohhh. Well." Charlie looked thoughtful. "Yeah, if Principal Washburn didn't care, then Miss Umbridge shouldn't, but... wait. Maybe she doesn't know?" she suggested hopefully.

"She better not." He was wearing that stubborn look again. "And even if she does, neither me, Phoebe, or Bel is gonna go along with it."

Charlie gave him a puzzled look. "Bel of-- Oh! Cuddle-time-hour!" Then put her hands over her face. "Damnit, Turtle... Sorry!"

"Cuddle-time-what?" repeated Anders. "What does Turtle have to do with . . . huh?"

"Nothing," Charlie said in a very small voice.

"Charlieeeeeeee," wheedled Anders. "I'm not gonna kill you or get mad, I swear. C'mon, what is it?"

Charlie turned brighter red, and mumbled, "Turtle calls you guys the Bel-Phoebe-Anders Cuddle Time Hour when she talks about you on the Radio." She put her hands over her eyes. "But she still says you're cuter than Marco!"

Anders burst out laughing. "Am I doomed to forever have some cute nickname for me and the people I'm dating when we get mentioned on the radio or something? I mean, it's not like it's not true . . ."

"Oh, whew. You're not mad at her? Really? Good!" Charlie beamed at him. "And, maybe? I can't remember what other people call you guys. I just make sure to listen when it's Turtle. What other nicknames have you had?" she asked, curious.

The whole Bel and Phoebe and Anders thing still kind of just made her boggle. No way she could ask about that.

"Well, my ex and I had a cutesy radio nickname too," he said, a little abashed. "Look, I know the whole threesome thing's a little weird, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Charlie gave him an embarrassed look, and said, "I'm pretty obvious, hunh?" She shook her head. "I just-- I don't know what to say about it. Except 'whoa.' I mean, you hear about stuff like that, but you don't think it really happens with anyone you know..."

"Tell me about it," Anders said wryly. "I sure as hell didn't expect it to happen to me. I know it's kind of . . . well, some of my friends weren't really happy about it. And I'm kind of amazed it's working out as well as it is. It's okay if you're kind of weirded out, I totally understand. I'm not offended or anything, promise."

"Good, 'cause I wouldn't want to insult you, it's just the whole, no context, no point of reference, no good questions or comments and I'm totally quitting while I'm ahead," Charlie said, nodding vigorously. "But, um. Happy for you?" She grinned at him, then turned to yell, "Pull!"

And another kitten mewed its way to pieces.

"High five, once you set the gun down," Anders told her. "You're getting pretty good at this."

Charlie grinned, put the gun down, and put up one palm. "Wooo. Us versus the Kittens of Doom."

"Go team us," Anders said, slapping her hand.

Firearms and You #4 (Thursday period 2)

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