Style, Part 8/8.

Author: Zoicyte aka Johnnyjosh

Fandom: Supernatural

Rating: 18+

Pairing: Dean/Sam

Beta: BehrBeMine, Reiver Vicious

Spoilers: Season 2, slight for season 3

Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural or its characters, and am making no money from this.

Warnings and Notes: Yaoi, lemon, lime, language.  OOC, TWT, AU, General Weirdness. 

This was just a little something that tickled my funny bone after watching a rerun of ‘Tall Tales’. 

Author notes: Yes, I’m aware in some circles there’s controversy over whether Sam’s eyes are green or brown.  I write them brown, so you’ll know better whom I’m talking about when say…brown or green eyes widen, okay? 

Additional Notes: Due to what I’ve seen in spoilers and sides, don’t expect much in the way of Season 3 canon, as I have no idea where the Krypkeeper’s going with all this XD.

The seal is obviously not canon.  It’s my warped idea so I take full blame.

Summary: Time’s almost up, and Dean’s deal comes due.  But it seems that sometimes the right words spoken at the right time can mean more than you ever thought possible. 

“ ” Speaking

* * Thoughts

~~oOo~~ Change of scene or POV

 

"Hey!  What the hell's goin' on?" Dean shouted, starting to struggle when he felt his feet leaving the ground. He realized he was slowly being raised off the floor and drawn up into the light.   Dean glared at the trickster, trying to fight the pull but all he ended up doing was flailing his arms and legs uselessly, dropping the stake in the process.  "Where are you taking me?" 

 

"Just out of her reach for the moment.  That uppity little bitch is about to get schooled," the trickster grinned wickedly, watching as Dean suddenly vanished, the light fading immediately afterward.

 

~~oOo~~

 

Sam spun around to face his attacker, a choked, surprised cry caught in his throat when he realized he was looking at...himself. 

 

"I can't let you do it, Sam.  We both know Dean would never forgive you if you went and made that deal."  The pseudo-Sam smirked, tossing the box in the air and catching it with one hand. 

 

"You...” Sam whispered, staring at what he knew must be a trick.  He was still too stunned to react when the other man lunged forward and lashed out at him.  He staggered back, pain radiating from near his temple where he’d been struck.  Then his vision went dark around the edges and Sam's legs gave out, the brunet unconscious before he hit the ground. 

 

The fake Sam tilted his head, looking down at the real one with a wry smile.  “That a boy, Sammy,” he chuckled, watching as the prone form shimmered, then disappeared.  “Go join your brother for a little nap, this won’t take long.”  With that, he turned and walked toward the road, whistling an unfamiliar tune as he repeatedly tossed the box into the air. 

 

~~oOo~~

 

Dean started to regain consciousness, groaning as he became aware of his surroundings in gradual stages.  First came the sound of music being played, some cheesy 80’s ballad that, even though he had no idea what it was, he instantly knew he hated.  Next came smell, the heavy, cloying odor of incense permeating the air, making Dean feel faintly dizzy and nauseous.  After that came touch, and Dean realized he could feel something thin wrapped around his waist.  He became aware that he was leaning against something small, just above waist-height.  “What the hell?” he murmured, realizing suddenly that whatever he was leaning against was moving, swaying slowly side to side and making him move with it.   

 

Dean forced his eyes open, wincing as even the dim lighting of the room sent sharp spikes of pain through his head.  Green eyes closed briefly, before he tried again, opening his eyes a bit at a time, gradually adjusting to the light.  “Where am I?” he croaked, surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded. 

 

A quick look at his surroundings revealed some kind of dance floor, and he was reminded of a high school dance he’d once attended.  “Great, I get knocked out and wake up in some 80’s brat pack movie,” Dean muttered, then sighed, letting his head fall back.  As it did, Dean frowned, noticing a glittering disco ball overhead.  “Wait a minute, why does this seem so familiar?” he asked himself, something niggling away at the edge of his memory, a feeling of déjà vu, as if he’d seen all this before. 

 

It took him another moment to finally realize what the song was, and that’s when it hit him.  “Lady in Red,” Dean said slowly, green eyes widening as he realized he hadn’t seen this scenario before, but he’d heard about it from a certain blond jock on the college campus where they’d first encountered the trickster. 

 

“Oh no…” Dean said, tensing as he realized that what he’d been leaning against before was now clinging to his waist.  He slowly lowered his head, looking down apprehensively, hoping against hope that he was wrong. 

 

He wasn’t.

 

Looking up at him was a tiny, grey-skinned creature with a bulbous head and elongated face that ended in a tiny, pointed chin.  It had no nose, and only a tiny slit for a mouth.  Dean stared at it, shock and disbelief rendering him immobile, unable to do anything but catalogue its features, including the bizarre fact that it was wearing a red evening gown.   Yes, Dean Winchester was slow-dancing with an alien.   The part of his brain still capable of sarcasm and snide remarks sent out the thought that at least the fact it was wearing a dress bode well; it meant he wasn’t the bitch, right? 

 

The eyes were the worst in Dean’s opinion, huge, almond-shaped and jet black, glittering like polished onyx, seeming to catch every bit of light in the room and reflect it back like black mirrors. 

 

It was only when those enormous eyes blinked that Dean snapped out of his stupor.  With a blood-curdling scream he shoved it away, arms pin wheeling as he stumbled back to get away from it.  His knees hit the corner of something soft, and with a grunt Dean landed hard, gasping and jumping as hands suddenly ran over his chest and shoulders. 

 

Loud, raucous laughter erupted from his left and Dean growled, shooting the trickster a murderous glare.  “You son of a bitch!” he shouted, then he glared at blonde and brunette as they leaned over each of his shoulders, smiling suggestively at him.  “Sorry, but I’m not interested this time, either,” he muttered, trying to get up off the bed, scowling angrily when the women grabbed onto his arms and kept him from rising. 

 

“Aw, guess your brother’s ruined it for us, hm?” The blond pouted, tilting her head and running a hand down Dean’s bicep. 

 

The mention of Sam seemed to galvanize Dean, and he began to squirm, once again trying to get free of the two women.  “At least he’s real,” Dean snapped, then let out a sound of surprise as the women suddenly grasped his arms, dragging him up and forcibly stretching him out on the bed.  “Dammit, let me go!”  Green eyes narrowed as the trickster and both women started to laugh. 

 

"Hah!" The trickster slapped his knee, waving his chocolate bar at Dean as he grinned at the other man, eyes flashing with unsuppressed mirth.  "You should have seen the look on your face, it was classic!"  He smirked then, tilting his head to the side.  "Hm, wait a minute."  The chocolate bar was pointed at the wall, where suddenly a red velvet curtain had appeared.  The curtain slowly moved aside, revealing a wide-screen plasma television.  "You can see it after all.  Watch this, it's so funny!" 

 

Dean glowered at the trickster, watching from the corner of his eye as the entire scene was replayed.  He closed his eyes, feeling almost ashamed at the sound of his own scream, then opened them and growled under his breath as the trickster replayed that particular part three more times. 

 

“Oh man, this is so funny, I’m gonna enjoy watching that one for years,” the trickster snickered, shaking his head and wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye.  “You know, I was tempted to do the whole probing thing, but I figured Sam’s probably done more than enough of that already.”  He smirked wickedly at the deep blush that colored Dean’s cheeks.

 

“Come on Dean, give us a chance,” the blond purred as she and the brunette used their long legs to try and keep Dean pinned down.  “I bet we can bring you back to our side.”  They both leaned down to try and kiss Dean’s face, unfazed when he put a hand to each of their faces and pushed them back. 

 

“Don’t bet on it,” Dean glared up at her, then struggled once again, this time finding the strength to throw them both off. "Get the hell off me.  Where's my brother, you son of a bitch?" he roared, finally managing to sit up and snarl at the trickster.  "I have to stop him before he goes and makes that damn deal!  Now let me go!" 

 

The two women giggled and rolled back when Dean shoved them, the brunette pouting over at the trickster and slapping lightly at the bed.  "You know, I don’t mean to criticize, but this bed is awfully lumpy," she complained, squirming and shifting around on top of a long, obvious shape hidden under the red satin bedspread. 

 

“Relax, Dean, your brother’s just fine, see?” the trickster said, his expression sincere as he pointed to the large lump in the bed. 

 

Dean looked over, his eyes wide when said shape suddenly let out a very familiar groan, starting to move a bit and causing the brunette to giggle again as she rolled off it. 

 

“Ooh, do we have someone new to play with?” the blond asked, looking pleased as she tried to crawl over Dean and help the brunette pull down the covers. 

 

“You leave my brother the hell alone!” Dean shouted, practically flinging each woman, one at a time, to the other side of the king sized bed.  He pointedly ignored the trickster’s laughter at his actions.  “Sam?” he asked, nearly tearing the bedspread in his haste to pull it down. 

 

“Dean?” Sam’s voice was muffled, groggy as he lifted his head, arms stretching out to find the edge of the covers.  He poked his head out when Dean pulled the bedspread down at last, hair mussed and sticking up on one side.  “Dean!” His eyes widened and without hesitation Sam pulled him closer, hugging Dean tightly and nuzzling his hair.  “Dean, you’re okay…” 

 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Dean sighed, eyes closed as he rested his cheek against Sam’s.  He held the younger man close, all doubt that this was just another trick vanishing the moment he looked into the other man’s eyes.  “What the hell’s goin’ on?” Dean demanded, still holding tightly to Sam as he shot the trickster another glare.

 

“Why’d you bring us here?” Sam asked quietly, wincing as he brought one hand up to the side of his head, gingerly touching where he’d been struck earlier. 

 

The two brothers tensed as the trickster bounced up out of his chair and strode over to the bed, gesturing for the girls to come closer.  “Why did I bring you here?  Well,” he grinned, reaching out and pushing the two brothers apart, before he flopped onto the bed between them, draping an arm over each of their shoulders, “because I wanted to play a trick on a special someone.  And I also wanted a chance to pull Dean’s favorite trick on him,” the trickster grinned at Dean, chuckling as Sam’s confused look.  “Here Sammy, let’s give you a replay, shall we?” 

 

“It’s Sam, only he gets to call me that,” Sam corrected without thinking, pointing to Dean.  He then turned his head when the trickster gestured to the TV, unable to keep from grinning as he watched Dean’s reaction to the slow dancing alien.  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he murmured, barely holding back a laugh. 

 

“Nope!  It was great,” the trickster laughed as the two women crawled over and lay down beside them, the blond curled up at Dean’s side, the brunette pressed against Sam. 

 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, great,” Dean said irritably, running a hand down his face to hide the blush starting to stain his cheeks once again.  “But you still haven’t answered the question, what the hell are we doin’ here?” 

 

“Um, where exactly is ‘here’, while we’re on the subject,” Sam added, glancing up nervously as the trickster tightened his arms around them and laughed again. 

 

“Well, the ‘where’ is just too complicated for you mere mortals to understand,” the trickster said boastfully, smirking at each of them in turn.  “As for what you’re doing here?  Well that’s easy.”  He turned to Dean and raised his eyebrows with a grin.  “She can’t take your soul if she can’t find you, right?  As long as you’re here, that snooty little bitch won’t have any way to reach you.” The trickster glanced over at Sam.  “And if she can’t find Dean, she certainly can’t find you and make you drop dead again, now can she?” 

 

Sam and Dean leaned forward a bit, glancing at each other, then back up at the trickster. 

 

“But what happens now?” Sam asked, looking around the room. “You brought us somewhere that she can’t reach us and…what, you’re going to keep us here for the rest of our lives or something?  That’s just not possible.” 

 

“Sam’s right, we can’t stay here.  We’ve got work to do.  Problem is the second we go back, she’ll come after me.  Maybe Sam too, if she thinks I did this deliberately to weasel out of the deal,” Dean said, looking over at his brother with a troubled expression. 

 

“Boys, boys, boys,” the trickster sighed dramatically, shaking his head.  “When have you ever known my tricks to be that poorly executed?  I’m nothing if not thorough.”  He grinned and pointed to the TV, sitting up and leaning forward a bit. “Now watch, this is the best part.” 

 

The two brothers shared a puzzled look before everyone on the bed turned their attention to the screen as it switched from a freeze frame of Dean screaming to a panoramic view of the crossroads not far from the cabin.

 

~~oOo~~

 

  ‘Sam’ continued to whistle as he approached the crossroads, stopping right in the middle.  “Here goes,” he murmured, then knelt down, burying the box in the center of the crossroads before he stood up and looked around warily.  After a few moments of tense silence, he sighed and frowned impatiently.  “Well?  Where are you, you bitch?”  Sam shouted, then whirled around when a woman’s voice came from behind him.  He blinked and shielded his eyes when the wind suddenly picked up, howling ominously. 

 

“I knew you were going to try something,” the demon hissed, eyes red, face contorted with anger as she stalked toward Sam, one hand up, finger pointed as if she intended to try and jab him in the chest.  She’d possessed another human body, once again what seemed to be her favorite type, a petite brunette with dark eyes and waist length black hair that was currently whipping wildly in the wind.  She paused, looking down around her feet, then around Sam’s.  “Hm, not even an attempt at a devil’s trap?  I’m almost disappointed,” she sneered, then bared her teeth and started toward him again.   Her hands dropped to her sides, fingers spread out like claws, tendons standing out in the backs of her hands as the crossroads demon glared up at Sam.  “Where is Dean?” she demanded, baring her teeth, red eyes narrowed to glittering slits. 

 

“That’s funny, I thought he’d be with you by now,” Sam said nonchalantly, seeming unimpressed by her display of temper.   “What happened, your hellhounds get lost?” he smirked, leaning back a bit, hands stuffed into his pockets. 

 

“That’s going to cost you, Winchester,” she snarled, the wind growing more intense, picking up dead leaves and blowing around some sand and small pebbles from the road around them.  One sharp pebble flew past Sam’s face, opening a small cut, and the demon watched the blood well up in the wound, licking her lips.   “I don’t know what you did, or how you did it, but there’s nowhere in this world Dean could have run that I can’t find him.  And yet somehow…he’s gone, and I can’t seem to track him down.  One moment the hounds were closing in on him at the cabin, but by the time they got there, he’d vanished.”  She tilted her head, regarding Sam intently for a few moments as the wind died down at last.  “I’d love to know what kind of connections you’ve got that would enable you to pull a stunt like this, but right now I really don’t care.  The terms of my deal with your brother were very clear.  I get his soul, tonight, in exchange for your life.  If he tries to trick me or welch on the deal in any way, you’re back to so much rotting meat.”  The demon folded her arms and grinned up at him evilly.  “Which means it’s time for Sammy to go bye-bye.”  

 

“Ah,” Sam raised his eyebrows, holding up a finger and grinning, as if he were about to reveal the punch line of a really good joke.  “But that’s just the point, isn’t it?  Dean didn’t try to welch on the deal.  He had every intention of honoring it, he’d already accepted his fate, and didn’t do a damn thing on his own to try and break it.  I did, which means the deal still holds.”

 

“Hm, that’s little Sammy’s university education talking, is it?  Shame you didn’t see that whole law school thing through, I bet you’d look great in a suit,” the demon leered, then chuckled, slowly walking around Sam.  “Mind you, I don’t think you’d be a very good lawyer, that’s a pretty weak technicality, Sam.  You see, you’re acting on his behalf, and the results are the same, Dean didn’t hold up his end of the bargain, so now the deal’s off,” she sighed, shaking her head and looking at him in mock sympathy.   “Nothing personal Sam, but a deal’s a deal.  I expect payment for services rendered.” 

 

The crossroads demon reached out her hand, setting it against Sam’s chest lightly, mildly surprised when he just stood there and watched her placidly.  “You know, even now I’ve still got a soft spot for you boys. So I’ll skip the usual agonizing, gory death routine this time, but just for you.  You won’t feel a thing, Sam,” she murmured, closing her eyes.  A moment later those red eyes widened in shock and she took several quick steps back, staring up at him.  “You’re not Sam, who…what are you?”  She had intended to stop Sam’s heart with that touch, only to be stunned by the realization that the being before her didn’t have a heartbeat. 

 

He chuckled, eyes narrowing as he gazed at her.  “You know, that’s the worst thing about having a deal go south, you can wind up trapped in litigation for years.”  He froze, his form turning completely white, before exploding in a cloud of dust that swirled around the demon for a moment. 

 

The demon hissed and flailed her arms, trying to wave the dust away.  When it settled at her feet, she looked down and roared in rage. It had fallen around her to form a large, ornate and very powerful devil’s trap, the designs incorporated into it effectively caging her and sealing her powers completely.  Her red eyes widened as she studied the designs a moment.  “No…”  She’d heard of these, they weren’t any ordinary traps; they were often used as permanent seals.  “You can’t do this to me!” she shouted, looking around wildly, realizing there was no one in sight.  “Who are you?”  The demon cried, her voice losing some of its confidence.  She knew she wasn’t alone, and she also knew now that she wasn’t dealing with any mere mortal. 

 

She gasped, nearly losing her footing when the ground started to shake beneath her.  “What’s going on?” She looked down, watching as what looked like a thick glass cylinder pushed its way up out of the ground just outside the circle, forming a high, transparent wall all around her.  The demon dropped to her knees, staring up helplessly at the top of the wall, realizing escape wasn’t even a remote possibility right now.  “What?” Her mouth dropped open in shock as the top suddenly narrowed and stretched up further, looking like…  “A bottle, you’ve put me in a fucking bottle?!  What the hell do you think I am, a genie?” she shrieked, then tried to bang on the wall but found herself stopped short by the circle.  The demon let out a bellow of rage that trailed off into a distressed sound when a stopper appeared in the top of the bottle, making her voice echo around her. “You have got to be kidding me!”   

 

~~oOo~~

 

“Oh you gotta be kiddin’ me!”  Dean grinned, leaning forward and staring at the screen.  “A bottle?  Dude, that’s so awesome!” he laughed, unable to stop himself from clapping the trickster on the back when the other man joined in.  Soon everyone was laughing uncontrollably as they watched the demon raging and flailing in her glass prison. 

 

“Hey, how do you think she’d look in the old ‘I Dream of Jeannie’ outfit?”  The trickster snickered as his comment sent Dean into another fit of laughter. 

 

“As funny as that sounds,” Dean wheezed after a few moments. “I don’t wanna see it, Barbara Eden was hot, man, and there’s no way she could compare.  I really don’t want my memories tainted like that.”

 

“Besides, pink’s so not her color,” the blond piped up as the brunette nodded in agreement. 

 

“Red wouldn’t look bad though, but a deeper red perhaps?”  The dark-haired woman raised a brow at the trickster suggestively. 

 

The trickster looked thoughtful for a moment, then laughed and clapped his hands once.  “Oh hell, you ladies talked me into it,” he grinned, pointing to the screen just as another muted scream sounded.  The demon was now sporting a blood red and black harem outfit with glittering gold trim; her black hair braided and piled high on her head.

 

At that even Sam was lying back on the bed, laughing helplessly, tears in his eyes as he watched the demon freak out over her predicament.  “Oh wow, that’s amazing,” he said weakly.  He gazed over at his brother, watching Dean and the trickster high five each other and joke about the situation.  He thought back to a comment he’d made to Dean before, about how the trickster might have seen Dean as some kind of kindred spirit.  As he watched them, Sam knew he’d probably come closer to the truth at the time than he’d realized. 

 

He let the two of them have their moment, then cleared his throat, sitting up slowly.  “You know guys, I hate to bring this up,” he said tentatively, raising his eyebrows as the others sobered and looked over at him.  “But what now?  I mean, sure, you’ve trapped her, even humiliated her, but what are we supposed to do with her now?  I mean you can’t just leave her there, a giant bottle with a woman inside sitting in the middle of the crossroads is eventually going to attract attention, even on that lonely back road.” 

 

The trickster nodded, holding up one finger and smirking.  “Aha!  How right you are, Sam, glad you mentioned that.  We’re not going to leave her out there, no sir!  Can’t risk some mortal coming along and doing something stupid, like trying to free her, now can we?”  He chuckled, getting up off the bed and walking over to the television.  He looked from the screen to his hand, then back at the screen again, before the trickster simply reached into the screen, hand wrapping around the neck of the bottle and pulling the now much smaller vessel out of the TV.  “I think I should hold onto this for safekeeping,” he said, peering into the bottle and tapping the glass lightly, grinning as she cursed and shook a fist at him.  “You at least know that here, no idiot mortal, no offence to present company intended, can get their hands on her and her little friends won’t be able to come to her aid, either.”   He looked over to Sam and Dean and shrugged lightly.  “She’s immortal, so am I.  I can keep her here for the rest of your natural lives, which, given your occupation,” he shot them a wry look. “Well, you just never know.  Or I could keep her here indefinitely, it all depends on how much amusement I get out of keeping her on display.” 

 

Sam swung his legs over the edge of the bed, then rose and moved closer, looking at the bottom of the bottle.  “Those symbols you used in the circle, that’s not like any devil’s trap I’ve ever seen,” he said, before looking at the trickster curiously. 

 

“No, it’s not a trap, Sam.  That computer of yours really comes in handy, I gotta say,” the trickster snickered at Sam’s surprised look.  “Reminded me of a few things I hadn’t seen in several centuries.  No,” he held the bottle up a bit higher, looking at the bottom as well,  “this is no ordinary trap, it’s a seal.  I imagine the traps you guys use aren’t always as useful as you’d like them to be, are they?”  He smirked as Sam’s shoulders hunched a bit, the taller man looking defensive.  “I bet if a demon’s strong enough they can even break apart the trap, right?  Well this thing’s a little different; it’s not just used to trap, but to bind their power. They can’t break it, they can’t exert any influence outside it, there’s just no way for them to escape it on their own.  Ages ago when magic was a little more prevalent, these things were pretty common, used to seal demons away permanently.” 

 

“So she’s stuck there, with no way out, probably forever,” Dean got up and walked over, sighing as he watched the demon raging inside the bottle.  “And yeah, she is immortal, but that body she’s possessing isn’t.  What about her?  She’s just an innocent victim of demonic possession.” 

 

“Dean,” the trickster shook his head and chuckled, regarding the man with something akin to amazement.  “You never cease to surprise me.  That’s just one of the reasons I like you so much.”  He clapped a hand on Dean’s shoulder, then sighed as well.  “I can’t make her leave the body.  You could, but we all know the only way to do that-”

 

“Is by exorcism,” Sam said quietly, moving up behind Dean and setting a hand on his brother’s shoulder.  “But if we do that, would she still be trapped in the seal, or…” His head dropped down to rest lightly on Dean’s shoulder, Sam’s expression one of heavy sadness when the trickster shook his head.

 

“No, that’s pretty much the only way she can be freed from that seal,” the trickster said quietly. 

 

“So she’d go straight back to hell, where we all know her first order of business would be revenge.” Dean sighed, closing his eyes.  “Great, one more person that has to suffer so I can live,” he said bitterly, letting himself be pulled into Sam’s arms as the younger man embraced him from behind. 

 

“Not just you, Dean,” the trickster reminded him.  “If she went back to hell she’d have the power to take Sam’s life again.  And anyone else that’s got a deal coming due soon.  Think about it.  I know this is hard for you, hell all you mortals suffer from these bothersome moral dilemmas, but you two, wow!  The angst!  Even I can’t stand to watch it sometimes.  You’re gonna have to let this one go so that a lot of others, including both of you, can live.”  The trickster shook his head and walked across the room, opening the door of a large hutch that had appeared in the corner.  He set the bottle inside, and then closed the glass door again securely. 

 

“I hate it too, Dean,” Sam murmured, lips close to his brother’s ear as he held onto Dean tightly, feeling the tension running through the older man’s frame.  “But he’s right, if she gets free, we both die.  You know she’ll probably kill both of us out of revenge.  Not to mention that we’ve just saved however many others she made deals with in the last year, and all the people that would have had deals coming due soon.”  He tried hard to convince himself of what he was saying, but he knew he was failing badly, not only with himself, but his brother as well.  It simply wasn’t their way to arbitrarily sacrifice one for the good of many. 

 

The trickster turned back to them and frowned, folding his arms.  “Hey, you two are supposed to be happy over all this.  But I can see you’re just going to angst over this till the cows come home,” he said, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.  “Tell you what.  I’ll do a little thinking, a little digging, in my spare time between pranks of course,” he shot them a look, smirking when he saw he had both their attention, the brothers wearing almost identical expressions of guarded hope,  “and I’ll try and find a way to save the host without freeing the demon from the seal.  If I come up with anything, I’ll pay you a visit, okay?”   

 

“Okay,” Sam smiled faintly and nodded to the trickster when at last he felt some of the tension leave Dean’s body.  “Bobby and I can research it too, okay?” he whispered, before he nuzzled the back of Dean’s neck, hands splayed over his brother’s abdomen. 

 

Dean closed his eyes and sighed heavily.  “Okay,” he murmured, nodding slowly, suddenly feeling very exhausted.  He’d been through what he figured was the most intense night of his life, and the realization that he was free had lifted a huge weight from his shoulders.  He still didn’t like that someone else had to pay the price for his freedom, but he knew somehow that the trickster would keep his word, and they would all try to find a way to save the girl. 

 

Green eyes opened when Dean felt Sam’s arms tighten around him, and he blinked in surprise at the sight of the trickster and his two companions standing right in front of them.  “You know,” he said slowly, struggling to find the right words.  “I’m not sure quite what to say here-” 

 

“Thank you,” Sam interrupted, moving to stand beside Dean, one arm still draped over his older brother’s shoulders.  “I know that sounds kind of…insignificant, small considering everything you’ve just done for us tonight but-”

 

“Nah, not at all,” the trickster grinned, an arm around each of the women’s waists as he held them close.  “This was a hell of a night for me, too.  Not only did I get thanked by a couple of hunters, I mean, let’s face it, who’d have thought?”  He snickered.  “I got to trick another immortal, something I haven’t had the chance to do in almost…” he pondered that for a moment, then laughed.  “Yeah, almost three hundred years.  You’re really something, Dean.  That’s why I just couldn’t let you go.”  He released the two women, striding forward and flinging an arm around Dean’s shoulders, his arm resting on top of Sam’s.  “Not only are you the only mortal that’s ever truly appreciated my sense of humor, but you’re the only one I’ve ever known to trick not one, but two immortals, in what, a little over a quarter of a century?  Like I said to your brother, I guess we could be considered mutual fans, I’d even go so far as to say friends, after tonight, hm?”  He wore a pleased smile as Dean nodded faintly, then looked up at Sam and smirked.  “I’ve got some catching up to do I guess, can’t have a mortal showing me up.”

 

“So that’s really why you did all this for me?”  Dean asked, staring at the trickster in surprise. 

 

“Well yeah, that’s part of it,” the trickster grinned and moved back over to stand in between the two women, arms slipping around their waists again.  “The other part I guess is that some of your love of happy endings must have rubbed off on me.”  He sighed dramatically.  “Yeah, there’s something to be said about watching the prince and his princess ride off into the sunset together in their gilded carriage, isn’t there?”  He smirked at them, and the two women giggled, eyeing Sam and Dean in a way that made the brothers distinctly uneasy.  “Speaking of which, it’s time for you two to ride off together.  Well,” he tilted his head and frowned.  “Not just yet, you can have the cabin for tonight and tomorrow, just be sure to leave by the stroke of twelve, got it?” 

 

“Got it,” the two men said quietly, eyeing the trickster warily. 

 

“Okay then, off you go boys!”  The trickster beamed, he and his companions waving at them. 

 

The room gave a sickening lurch, Sam and Dean grasping onto each other as they found themselves disoriented and surrounded by darkness, feeling as if they were floating.  Moments later their feet hit solid ground and they both stumbled, their breathing heavy as they looked around wildly. 

 

“Well, the cabin’s still here,” Dean managed to say after a few moments.  “Come on Sammy,” he rasped, taking a shaky step toward the small building.  “I sure as hell could use a beer or three right now.”  He turned back when he heard Sam stumble, eyes widening as the younger man let out a deafening shriek.  “Sam what the hell’s wr- Oh…oh shit,” he said, voice rising, becoming strained as he fought to hold back his laughter at Sam’s appearance. 

 

The younger man’s jeans, layers of t-shirts and loose sweatshirt were gone, replaced with a long, white, strapless evening gown.  Sequins and beads decorated the billowing skirt, lace embroidery embellishing the bodice.  Full-length white gloves covered Sam’s hands and arms and a sparkling diamond bracelet adorned his right wrist.  A simple diamond pendant on a white gold chain hung around his neck, matched by small, what Dean hoped were clip-on earrings.   Even Sam’s hair hadn’t been spared; a tiara perched crookedly on his head was temporarily holding down the normally unruly curls. 

 

“You bastard!” Sam shouted, tearing the tiara off and flinging it into the bushes, before he began to work on the rest of the jewelry and his gloves.  “Oh, you son of a bitch!” he hissed, swaying dangerously on high heels that he just now realized he was wearing.  Sam winced, realizing the shoes were also causing his feet and ankles considerable pain, and with another string of colorful curses he kicked them off, glaring at his brother.  “It’s not funny!”

 

 Dean couldn’t hold back anymore, the older man falling to his knees as he howled with laughter and pointed at Sam shakily.  “Y-yeah it is, you’re the princess,” he managed to say, then he dissolved into laughter again, nearly toppling over onto his side. 

 

Sam snarled and managed to rip off the rest of the jewelry and his gloves, turning away from Dean with a frustrated growl.  His eyes widened in shock as he stared at where they’d left the Impala, before an evil grin slowly settled on his lips.  “Yeah well, if I’m your princess, then shouldn’t you be taking me away in your…gilded carriage?”  He lifted his arm and pointed, turning back and waiting to see the expression on Dean’s face. 

 

Dean was still grinning shamelessly as he looked up at Sam, then let his gaze follow his brother’s finger.  In a heartbeat the grin fell flat, giving way to a shocked expression that soon shifted into abject horror.  Where earlier the Impala had been parked, there now stood a huge white gilded carriage, moonlight glinting off the gold accents.  Two large white horses were hitched up to it, standing still and patient, tails flicking lazily as they turned their heads in unison and looked back at Dean. 

 

“What?” Dean croaked, rising unsteadily to his feet, eyes glued to the carriage.  He shook his head, slowly at first, then faster, hands shaking as he raised them, covering his mouth and staring at it wide-eyed.  “Sweet Jesus…  My baby, what’s he done to you?”

 

“At least I can take this stupid dress off,” Sam smirked, finding the sudden turnaround extremely amusing, to say the least.  “But, unfortunately, your poor car has to stay like that until midnight tomorrow.” 

 

Dean whirled around and stared at Sam, looking almost overjoyed as he remembered that.  “Yeah, yeah…it’s only temporary,” he muttered to himself, taking a hesitant step toward the carriage, then pulling back quickly.  “Don’t worry baby, you’ll be fine come this time tomorrow,” he said, then dragged both hands down his face, closing his eyes and growling.  “I swear that guy’s tryin’ to give me a heart attack.” 

 

“Come on, I think we could both use about a half a dozen beers each.  The car will look normal tomorrow, but I want to look normal now.  Let’s go inside and you can help me with this damn zipper,” Sam griped, grasping handfuls of the dress and trying to lift it up so he could walk.  “Dammit!” he growled, tripping again over the hem of the long skirt.  He gasped in surprise as strong arms grabbed him, tipping him back a bit before Sam felt himself being lifted into Dean’s arms.  “What the hell are you doing?” Sam demanded, staring at Dean incredulously.  “Just for reference, I’m not actually a princess, or even a girl, and you don’t need to carry me across the threshold.  Talk about chick-flick moments, Dean!” 

 

“Hey, I just want my beer now,” Dean smirked, carrying Sam into the cabin, maneuvering around so he didn’t hit the younger man’s long legs against the doorframe or walls on the way in.  “I don’t feel like waiting around for you to learn to walk in that dress.” 

 

Sam blinked as they walked through the kitchen, then the living room without stopping.  “Um, Dean,” he said quietly, looking at the other man with a puzzled frown.  “You just passed all the beer.”  He jumped and swallowed hard as Dean kicked the bedroom door open.  “Why are you bringing me in here?” 

 

Dean chuckled and dropped Sam onto the bed, enjoying the surprised squeak his brother let out.  Narrowed green eyes raked over Sam’s body slowly, enjoying the way the soft fabric of the dress concealed, yet clung just enough to entice in all the right places.  “I’ll get the beer in a minute, right now I got other things on my mind.”  He leered at Sam, then slid his hand up under the skirt, running it up Sam’s calf and smirking at the way the other man shivered.  “This dress is definitely doin’ somethin’ for me.” 

 

 

THE END.

Whoa, was that a fun ride, or what? ^^ Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.  Feedback, please!  I’ve got two other Supernatural stories to upload soon; a little comment here will inspire me to get them up faster!

JJ