Sam glared at Dean; "what d'y mean 'never let me drive'?" He snapped irritably. "You're talking as if this is my goddamn fault."
"Well it is," snorted Dean dismissively.
"How is it my fault?" whined Sam; "you're the one who serviced the damn engine, it must be your fault."
"Sam, face it; it's a fact of life," replied Dean calmly; "you're freakin' clueless with machines." He folded his arms belligerently, just daring Sam to retaliate; "letting a ham-fisted dork like you anywhere near complicated moving machinery is just asking for a breakdown … it's like the perfect storm."
Sam kneaded his forehead and took a deep breath, determined not to give Dean any satisfaction. "Can we focus on what's important here?" he muttered across a deep sigh; "like the fact we're stranded on a broken down boat in the middle of the ocean."
"Let me look;" Dean wobbled giddily, rolling his eyes as he barged past Sam to make his way to the crippled engine. He spent a moment peering cautiously over Florence's back end before dropping to his knees for a closer look.
Deep below the glistening turquoise expanse of sea, two blue eyes, as deep and inscrutable as the ocean itself, peered up through the water at the ebbing outline of a face. The face stared down through the depths toward her without seeing her and she allowed herself a small smile as she turned her back on the arguing men and slipped silkenly through the water beneath the weathered, ugly hull.
Swimming a little distance away, she turned and, taking a deep breath, lunged forward, powering through the ocean like a torpedo toward the side of the hull, at the last minute leaping up out of the water and slamming into it with all her might.
She smiled as she dropped silently back into the sea.
"I can't see what's wrong," Dean sighed, leaning further over the boat's edge in an effort to get a better look; "we'd have to get her out of the water."
Sam rubbed the back of his neck, sucking in a harsh breath as he felt the first warm sting of sunburn beneath his hand; "We can get on the radio and call …"
As he spoke, a violent thud shook the side of boat, and Sam barely had time to react to the bone-jarring jolt as he saw Dean disappear with a yelp over Florence's back end into the open expanse of the ocean with an untidy, limb-flailing splash.
Sam lunged frantically sternwards to see Dean floundering helplessly just under the surface of the water behind the engine, groping blindly for anything solid to cling to. Leaning over the limpet crusted planks of Florence's hull, he reached down into the water, trying without success to grasp one of his brother's thrashing arms.
He couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped as Dean's head finally broke the surface with a breathless, spluttering gasp.
"Dean, grab my hand," Sam shouted urgently, concentrating so hard on the matter in hand, he didn't notice the flash of silver that sailed silently through the water far beneath them.
Dean, for once, did as he was told without argument. Stretching up, he groped for Sam's extended arm, and after two abortive attempts, their hands eventually met.
Sam attempted to reassure his brother as his hand tightened around Dean's wrist, "S'okay dude, I gotcha," he muttered mindlessly; "gonna pull you up now."
"S-sammy," Dean spluttered wetly, his voice trailing off into a series of gasping coughs through the rain of seawater trickling over his face; "what in hell was that? I friggin' fell in."
"Yeah, thanks dude, I'd never have guessed;" snorted Sam, unsure of how to respond in the face of such crashing obviousness; "tell me all about it when we get you out, huh?"
Gripping Dean's arm with both hands he began to pull, letting out a groan at the strain.
Dean scrabbled at the edge of the boat, trying to gain some purchase with his free hand as Sam pulled him up, when his upwards movement abruptly stopped with a painful jerk.
Sam tugged hard at the sudden resistance, cringing as he felt Dean's shoulder crackling and popping. Heck; he knew Dean was no cream puff, but he wasn't that freakin' heavy.
"Woah, woah … WOAH!" Dean gasped, clearly in great discomfort; "le…mee go!"
Sam's arms went slack and Dean let out a pained yelp as he plopped awkwardly back into the water.
"What's wrong dude?" Sam asked urgently, eyes bright with concern.
"Back of my jeans are caught on something," panted Dean, blinking back pained tears; "you gave me a freakin' fierce wedgie; holy crap, that hurt… my goddamn balls are in my armpits!"
Sam cringed; that was a mental image he could really do without. "What're you caught on?" he asked in an attempt to change the subject.
Dean gyrated and squirmed in the water as he fiddled and tugged at his trapped jeans ; "I can't friggin' see; damn engine's all snarled up with seaweed, freakin' miles of the stuff," he snapped, panting irritably at his exertions; "bit of … snort … engine casing, or a … grunt …loose nail or … sonofaBITCH … somethin'."
"Well, untangle yourself already," Sam replied; "c'mon, I've gotta get you out of the water."
Dean splashed and cursed as he fiddled blindly through the inpenetrable forest of seaweed with his trapped pants; "I'm. Freakin'. TRYING!"
Suddenly he stilled, going limp.
"Sam," he whispered fearfully; "you don't reckon it was a shark do you?"
Sam's eyes widened. Whatever hit the boat was big and fast and strong.
Like a shark.
Renewed purpose strengthened his resolve; "Right, that's it, I'm getting you out," he stated firmly, reaching down for Dean's arm; "wedgie or not."
Dean made a desperate one-handed effort to undo his pants as Sam began to pull him up; if he couldn't unhook his pants, he could try to take them off. His attempts were thwarted when Sam, brooking no delays, grasped his second arm and lifted him forcibly out of the water, dragging him up over the wooden hull, tugging furiously against the unseen force that held his brother fast until Dean was convinced he was about to be sliced up the middle.
Something was going to have to give, and it was eventually Dean's jeans that gave way, a gaping hole opening across the seat of his jeans, in turn unravelling a large section of his boxers, with a loud rip,
She bit back a joyful giggle as she watched the spectacle unfolding before her. She hadn't even planned that bit; these men could quite easily wipe themselves out without her help. These fools had no business being on her ocean.
She watched as one of her fellow sea creatures drifted delicately past; and another idea formed; oh, this was just too beautiful …
Sam prepared himself for the final effort of hauling Dean's heavy, raggedly bare ass out of the water. What he didn't prepare for, however, was the strangled squeal Dean suddenly let out before he leapt up, without Sam's help, out of the water with the athleticism of a porpoise, and scrambled wildly over the back of the boat, ending up flopped belly-down in a dripping heap on the deck.
Whilst doing everything in his power to avoid looking at his brother's bare ass, Sam couldn't help but notice an angry red welt raised across the width of Dean's left butt-cheek.
"Sammy," he gasped wetly, squirming and bucking uncomfortably in the vast puddle which had accumulated on the deck around him; "I got stung, some freakin' douchewad slimy thing stung me … oh jeez, Sammy; My ass is on fire!"
She smiled fondly as the little jellyfish slipped silently away like a translucent ghost, it's work done; and bobbed softly in the lapping waves. She had wanted to teach them a lesson, but these two idiots were doing half the job for her.
This was as much fun as she'd had for a long time.
Sam stood helplessly over his moaning brother; okay, this was one eventuality he hadn't considered. Really, how far can a man go to offer comfort to his brother's abused ass?
He crouched down to be near Dean's pain-clenched face, as far from his incandescent ass as was reasonably possible.
"Oh hell Sam;" he moaned pitifully, sucking in a tormented hiss; "fr-freakin' hurts so much ..."
Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder in unspoken support and gave a weak smile.
"Oh well, dude, at least you've forgotten about the seasickness."