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Fic: Thank You for Calling 1/?

Thank You for Calling
By Max

#stucky #Captain America #Supernatural

Disclaimer: I do not own characters from the Marvel Universe or from Supernatural

“Thank you for calling Acme Supernatural Supplies and Supplements. My name is Steve. How may I help you?” Steve Rogers sat on a chair that wouldn’t pass OSHA standards, but thanks to a little duct tape, was doing fine enough for the day.  He had one wedge of a six sided desk, which he shared with five other people, all tethered to the same pod of demi-cubicles. There were thirty other little pods, and then some larger desks for the supervisors. He wore a faded yellow polo shirt and khakis, running shoes, and a well used headset that also had a little duct tape. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

The voice in his headset  spoke in clipped, high pitched, “Yes. I can. Hear. you.  You sent me three boxes of wolfsbane, and no astragalus. This is the second time my order has been done incorrectly.”

“I’m very sorry,” Steve said genuinely. “May I please have your phone number or your last name so that I can pull up your account?”

“OH. My. God. Are you an idiot? Everyone else I call just has my account come up for them!”

“I want to get your account pulled up right away, Ma’am. May I please have your phone number?”

“You sound like Captain America. Do you think you’re Captain America because your name is Steve? What’s your last name?”

“Were not allowed to share our last names, Ma’am. I’d like to help you with your account. May I please have your phone number?”

“I bet your name isn’t even Steve. What is it really? I bet its Mohammed or Quan or something. Where are you located? You speak English too good to be an American.”

Steve’s right eye twitched. “My name is Steve. It’s a very common name. It’s un-American to judge people by their names, Ma’am. May I please have your phone number so that I can look up your account and help you with your order?”

“Did you just call me un-American, you stupid idiot? I want to talk to your supervisor!”

“Of course, Ma’am,” Steve said, relieved until he saw Bucky leaning against his short non-privacy providing more cubby than cubical wall.  The man triggered more instinct in him than thought sometimes and that was also a bit un-American. He wore a thin black tee-shirt, jeans that rode his hips just a little low, his dark hair bleached blond at the tips, and god save the president, he was smiling, “May I place you on a brief hold, Ma’am?”

“You idiot. You’re an idiot. You can’t get me to your supervisor unless you put me on hold. Put me on hold!”

“Yes, Ma’am. It’ll be just a moment,” Steve said pleasantly, but the moment he pushed the hold button his relief tipped like the tilt-a-whirl into something else entirely. “Bucky. I thought break wasn’t until 11:30.”

Bucky winked. Steve smiled nervously. Those dark eyes were like kittens and moonlight and what Steve imagined whiskey must be like... exciting and wicked and bad for one’s control. Bucky set a cup of coffee down on Steve’s desk. “I thought you needed some coffee.”

And see? Innocent. Just friends. That’s all. Steve’s cheeks colored slightly. “Thanks. I have an escalation I have to take care of.”  Steve took the coffee though, sipped it through the thin plastic lid. It was perfect coffee, just the way he liked it and that only gave him more un-American thoughts about his very best friend.

Bucky winked again. A tingle danced over Steve’s neck, swirling up some kind of mutant fire in his belly. “See you at lunch.”

“Yes, of course,” Steve said, glad they were there, that they were safe. Then the supervisor line picked up, “Hi! Yes, Toshi, I have an escalation for you. No, no I didn’t get her name. I’m sorry. Of course, It will be just a moment.”

Steve sighed as the call transferred. He cleared his throat, “Thank you for calling Acme Supernatural Supplies and Supplements. My name is Steve. How may I help you?”


Sam sighed, a bit of chocolate hair in his face, eyebrow arched. “What do you mean they didn’t hire you? They’ll hire anyone.”

Dean shrugged, looking his brother right in the face like he had no idea how that happened. “I think I failed the typing test.”

“Twenty people have gone missing in the last year and they all worked for this company. Are you saying you can’t type?”

Defensive, Dean’s shoulders rose, one eye squinted. “Well, you know, I’ve never actually typed a monster to death! It’s a little outside my skillset.”

“Fine,” Sam grumbled. “I start tomorrow, but think I’ve got a lead. Did you see the really pretty one, good posture, honey brown hair, blue eyes?”

“Do you want to fuck him or stake his vampire ass?” Dean snarked back. “There’s another one. Walks like he’s in heat with a metal arm. It’s just not fucking natural.”

“I didn’t see him, but there is something not right here.”

“Yeah. Food. Let’s get food.”

“I saw a diner.”




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