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winchester, sam. (ex_demonbloo908) wrote in wariscoming,

"We've got a couple questions about the series, actually," Sam clarified, trying to look less irritated about the situation than he actually was. "If we could take a couple seconds of your time, we'd really appreciate it." Sam honestly thought that this was going to take longer than that, but still. He had to be polite. Even if, like Dean, he wanted to drag this guy back into his house and start demanding answers the old-fashioned way. Tie him to a chair, threaten him with a gun, go all crazy-eyed on him; that might not have seemed all too practical to some people, but Sam found it worked out pretty well when one was in a rush. Lately, he felt like he was rushing all the time. He had to find Lilith. Knowing that there were things like this getting in the way of that repeatedly pissed him off, but there wasn't really anything he could do about it. It wasn't like he could just ignore the fact that there was some total stranger out there publishing their lives to people who didn't have any business knowing about it. It was risky. The cops thought that they were dead, the public didn't need to know about this stuff, and what if someone they had known read it? What if someone he'd met back in college found out that Sam Winchester was a monster hunting weirdo?

Sam didn't want to think about it. So instead he straightened his shoulders and looked down at the smaller man, hoping that he would be as cooperative as possible. Because while he was willing to play nicely now, Sam really couldn't guarantee that he was going to later. "We're just - we're, uh, big fans of your books." Right. "We'd love to sit down and talk with you, even for a couple seconds."

More like they were going to interrogate the hell out of him. But hey, what was the difference? Really?