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majestic_duxkTitle: To The Captains Quarters, Mr Winchester
Pairing: Victor Henriksen/Dean Winchester
Characters: Dean Winchester, Victor Henriksen, Sam Winchester, Kevin, Castiel, Gabriel, Zachariah, Alastair
Rating: T
Warnings and kinks: red dwarf!au, implied spanking, crack, humour
Summary: There’s only one way resident trouble maker Dean Winchester is going to stay on board the Red Dwarf. Luckily, it’s a way Captain Victor Henriksen can get behind.
a/nThis is my fic for the rare pairs challenge! This month the prompt was (inspired by/reference) another fictional universe. I went with Red Dwarf.
--oo--
“Would Third technician Dean Winchester please report to the Captain’s office.”
That made it, what? The sixth announcement? Dean’s ass was generally ok as long as he made his way to the office before the twelfth. That has been quite the painful learning curve.
“Dean Winchester, please report to the Captains office.”
Dean continued to ignore the summons. It wasn’t like he’d done anything. Plus his shift hadn’t started, and fucked if he was going to waste his leisure time getting chewed out. That could be on the ships time!
Pausing in front of the food dispenser, he considered. He was hungry. But he was more sick of the limited rations. Was he still on those? The Captain had given him the mitigated sentence of four weeks. Which was still too long. He thought dressing the skutters up in hula skirts to serve pie at the officers dinner had been genius. The haunting Fijian melodies were the perfect touch.
Heh. It has been worth the four weeks. But that had to be over.
Dean’s stomach growled and Dean listened. It was worth a try, right?
“Beef vindaloo and a lager, please.”
The melodious voice of the machine grated. “Unfortunately, Third Technician Winchester, those options are not currently available. I can offer you granola, made with synthesised grains and fruits, stew made with synthesised meat and vegetable. Or synthesised kippers on toast.”
“Is the toast made from synthesised grains?” Dean ground out.
There was a whirring noise before it replied. “Yes.”
Great. The Captain was a d-bag. “Well, what isn’t synthesised?”
Another whirring noise. “The water is recycled?”
Even the machine sounded embarrassed at the options. It knew what the
“Look isn’t there some way I could…”
“Oh. There you are, Dean.” It was Kevin, the ships computer. He was too fucking happy. Dean didn’t trust happy.
“The Captain has asked for you to go to his quarters.”
Dean flushed. It was supposed to be the office! That was the announcement! What the fuck was Victor - Captain Henriksen thinking! That was fucking inappropriate. And embarrassing. And Dean decided to ignore the summons. Victor obviously was not thinking. So it was up to Dean to make the sensible decisions. With a firm nod and sensible decision made, he turned back to Kevin.
“Hey, Kev. When can I order decent food again.”
Kevin blinked. “Unless the captain changes his orders, fourteen days, seven hours, eleven minutes, and nine seconds. Eight seconds. Seven seconds.”
Waving an annoyed hand at the computer, Dean thought hard. Fourteen days! That was two weeks! Maybe… maybe…
“Sammy,” he murmured out loud.
“The Captain has already informed Science Officer Second Class Winchester, that if he supplies any contraband foods to you, he will be demoted to…”
Dean stopped listening. Fucking Victor. He couldn’t take a fucking joke. To give him synthesised crap and cut off his pie supply? It was too much. A complete and utter overreaction! It was worse than that time he’d jiggered the vending machines supply pie and punch for… well, not even two hours, as Second Class Technician Novak had fixed them up real fast. Not that he expected anything less. Castiel had a stick up his ass. And a chip on his shoulder. And a bad attitude.
Since he couldn’t do anything about the captain, he allowed his thoughts to drift to his roommate. Under ordinary circumstances Dean couldn’t care less about Second Technician Castiel Arnold Novak. But Kevin had assigned them as roommates when Dean’s first roomie had mysteriously disappeared. Not that he was sad to see the back of Alastair. And for the first six weeks Dean had been downright grateful. But now Cas’s precise manner just grated and annoyed him. And when Dean was annoyed he caused, not trouble, but mischief. Just to add a general feeling of excitement and anticipation to those on the ship.
Because, and Dean was being kind here, it was really boring on the ship. And Captain Henriksen was–
“-Mr Winchester!”
“Argghhhh!” Dean screamed as a firm hand unexpectedly grasped his shoulder. Twisting, he tried to dislodge it, but then a second firm and (now he realised) familiar hand, tapped his ass none too gently.
“I believe you were requested to attend me in the Captain’s quarters, Mr Winchester.”
Dean winced. The Captain sounded pissed.
“I haven’t done anything.” At the raised eyebrow he sullenly added, “Else.”
The Captain’s mouth firmed even further (and how was that even possible! Victor already looked well and truly pissed…)
“We’ll be discussing that in private. Now, are you able to find my quarters, or do I need to have you escorted?”
Dean scowled, but Victor didn’t budge. “I mean it, Winchester. You have fifteen minutes before I get the security team to march you to my door.”
Without waiting for a reply, the Captain turned (a shade too dramatically, Dean decided) and marched away. Honestly, it was ridiculous. And embarrassing. And shit – the whole ship would have heard those announcements! Sammy would lecture him, and Cas would look down his nose. And as for the captain…
Sighing sadly, he turned back to Kevin. “What did I do?”
Kevin raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t know?”
The ships computer was a smarmy, condescending asshole, Dean decided as he stalked towards his fate.
--oo--
Dean was a trouble maker. No, not a trouble maker. A mischief maker. And Victor was used to them. A few years ago the ships problem had been Communications officer Gabriel Novak, but he’d shaped up once he’d been busted down to the boiler room and had to work his way back up.
But he couldn’t do that to Dean. According to the Space Corps directives, Third Technician was the lowest you could go.
So Victor had tried everything. Well, except stasis, because that was out of the question until it was emptied of the last lot of trouble makers. Alastair and his cronies were not just trouble – they were dangerous. He’d rather have ten Dean’s loos on the ship than any of Alastair’s bunch.
Victor shuddered. Still, he was glad there was only one Dean ‘pain in my ass’ Winchester. Dean, who had a perfect ass…
Who would have thought that there was such a pleasurable way to deal with his insubordinance? Kevin had been invaluable, the computer having instant access to every space ordinance ever written. So with a feeling of intense satisfaction he’d invited Third Technician Winchester to his quarters. He still felt a certain smugness as he recalled Dean Winchester’s face. (In fact, he’d videoed the whole thing, so that wonderful look of shock was just a finger tap away).
Of course there hadn’t been much of an argument. The way Victor (ok, and Kevin. They wouldn’t have gotten here if wasn’t for Kevin) had worded it, there really was no other choice: get spanked, or be released on the next habitable planet with one weeks pay.
And no. Victor didn’t actually time his offer for the only Colonial planet within five galaxies. And the only one with no electricity or running water.
Regardless, it had been the start of something beautiful: Dean Winchesters cherry red ass was a beautiful sight indeed.
He didn’t bother hiding his grin at the tentative knock on his door. He always enjoyed this part.
Pairing: Victor Henriksen/Dean Winchester
Characters: Dean Winchester, Victor Henriksen, Sam Winchester, Kevin, Castiel, Gabriel, Zachariah, Alastair
Rating: T
Warnings and kinks: red dwarf!au, implied spanking, crack, humour
Summary: There’s only one way resident trouble maker Dean Winchester is going to stay on board the Red Dwarf. Luckily, it’s a way Captain Victor Henriksen can get behind.
a/nThis is my fic for the rare pairs challenge! This month the prompt was (inspired by/reference) another fictional universe. I went with Red Dwarf.
--oo--
“Would Third technician Dean Winchester please report to the Captain’s office.”
That made it, what? The sixth announcement? Dean’s ass was generally ok as long as he made his way to the office before the twelfth. That has been quite the painful learning curve.
“Dean Winchester, please report to the Captains office.”
Dean continued to ignore the summons. It wasn’t like he’d done anything. Plus his shift hadn’t started, and fucked if he was going to waste his leisure time getting chewed out. That could be on the ships time!
Pausing in front of the food dispenser, he considered. He was hungry. But he was more sick of the limited rations. Was he still on those? The Captain had given him the mitigated sentence of four weeks. Which was still too long. He thought dressing the skutters up in hula skirts to serve pie at the officers dinner had been genius. The haunting Fijian melodies were the perfect touch.
Heh. It has been worth the four weeks. But that had to be over.
Dean’s stomach growled and Dean listened. It was worth a try, right?
“Beef vindaloo and a lager, please.”
The melodious voice of the machine grated. “Unfortunately, Third Technician Winchester, those options are not currently available. I can offer you granola, made with synthesised grains and fruits, stew made with synthesised meat and vegetable. Or synthesised kippers on toast.”
“Is the toast made from synthesised grains?” Dean ground out.
There was a whirring noise before it replied. “Yes.”
Great. The Captain was a d-bag. “Well, what isn’t synthesised?”
Another whirring noise. “The water is recycled?”
Even the machine sounded embarrassed at the options. It knew what the
“Look isn’t there some way I could…”
“Oh. There you are, Dean.” It was Kevin, the ships computer. He was too fucking happy. Dean didn’t trust happy.
“The Captain has asked for you to go to his quarters.”
Dean flushed. It was supposed to be the office! That was the announcement! What the fuck was Victor - Captain Henriksen thinking! That was fucking inappropriate. And embarrassing. And Dean decided to ignore the summons. Victor obviously was not thinking. So it was up to Dean to make the sensible decisions. With a firm nod and sensible decision made, he turned back to Kevin.
“Hey, Kev. When can I order decent food again.”
Kevin blinked. “Unless the captain changes his orders, fourteen days, seven hours, eleven minutes, and nine seconds. Eight seconds. Seven seconds.”
Waving an annoyed hand at the computer, Dean thought hard. Fourteen days! That was two weeks! Maybe… maybe…
“Sammy,” he murmured out loud.
“The Captain has already informed Science Officer Second Class Winchester, that if he supplies any contraband foods to you, he will be demoted to…”
Dean stopped listening. Fucking Victor. He couldn’t take a fucking joke. To give him synthesised crap and cut off his pie supply? It was too much. A complete and utter overreaction! It was worse than that time he’d jiggered the vending machines supply pie and punch for… well, not even two hours, as Second Class Technician Novak had fixed them up real fast. Not that he expected anything less. Castiel had a stick up his ass. And a chip on his shoulder. And a bad attitude.
Since he couldn’t do anything about the captain, he allowed his thoughts to drift to his roommate. Under ordinary circumstances Dean couldn’t care less about Second Technician Castiel Arnold Novak. But Kevin had assigned them as roommates when Dean’s first roomie had mysteriously disappeared. Not that he was sad to see the back of Alastair. And for the first six weeks Dean had been downright grateful. But now Cas’s precise manner just grated and annoyed him. And when Dean was annoyed he caused, not trouble, but mischief. Just to add a general feeling of excitement and anticipation to those on the ship.
Because, and Dean was being kind here, it was really boring on the ship. And Captain Henriksen was–
“-Mr Winchester!”
“Argghhhh!” Dean screamed as a firm hand unexpectedly grasped his shoulder. Twisting, he tried to dislodge it, but then a second firm and (now he realised) familiar hand, tapped his ass none too gently.
“I believe you were requested to attend me in the Captain’s quarters, Mr Winchester.”
Dean winced. The Captain sounded pissed.
“I haven’t done anything.” At the raised eyebrow he sullenly added, “Else.”
The Captain’s mouth firmed even further (and how was that even possible! Victor already looked well and truly pissed…)
“We’ll be discussing that in private. Now, are you able to find my quarters, or do I need to have you escorted?”
Dean scowled, but Victor didn’t budge. “I mean it, Winchester. You have fifteen minutes before I get the security team to march you to my door.”
Without waiting for a reply, the Captain turned (a shade too dramatically, Dean decided) and marched away. Honestly, it was ridiculous. And embarrassing. And shit – the whole ship would have heard those announcements! Sammy would lecture him, and Cas would look down his nose. And as for the captain…
Sighing sadly, he turned back to Kevin. “What did I do?”
Kevin raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t know?”
The ships computer was a smarmy, condescending asshole, Dean decided as he stalked towards his fate.
--oo--
Dean was a trouble maker. No, not a trouble maker. A mischief maker. And Victor was used to them. A few years ago the ships problem had been Communications officer Gabriel Novak, but he’d shaped up once he’d been busted down to the boiler room and had to work his way back up.
But he couldn’t do that to Dean. According to the Space Corps directives, Third Technician was the lowest you could go.
So Victor had tried everything. Well, except stasis, because that was out of the question until it was emptied of the last lot of trouble makers. Alastair and his cronies were not just trouble – they were dangerous. He’d rather have ten Dean’s loos on the ship than any of Alastair’s bunch.
Victor shuddered. Still, he was glad there was only one Dean ‘pain in my ass’ Winchester. Dean, who had a perfect ass…
Who would have thought that there was such a pleasurable way to deal with his insubordinance? Kevin had been invaluable, the computer having instant access to every space ordinance ever written. So with a feeling of intense satisfaction he’d invited Third Technician Winchester to his quarters. He still felt a certain smugness as he recalled Dean Winchester’s face. (In fact, he’d videoed the whole thing, so that wonderful look of shock was just a finger tap away).
Of course there hadn’t been much of an argument. The way Victor (ok, and Kevin. They wouldn’t have gotten here if wasn’t for Kevin) had worded it, there really was no other choice: get spanked, or be released on the next habitable planet with one weeks pay.
And no. Victor didn’t actually time his offer for the only Colonial planet within five galaxies. And the only one with no electricity or running water.
Regardless, it had been the start of something beautiful: Dean Winchesters cherry red ass was a beautiful sight indeed.
He didn’t bother hiding his grin at the tentative knock on his door. He always enjoyed this part.
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no subject
Date: 2015-05-05 02:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2015-05-06 09:37 am (UTC)