9Disclaimer: Supernatural doesn't belong to me, unfortunately - and I don't particularly think the person without whom this fic would not have been possible even wants it.
Summary: This fic was a challenge by my friend, Elrik Lasanti, who I complained to about being unable to write one shots, or some such. I believe words involved include: I can't write short stories! and UGH. So, he gave me this: write a SHORT fluffy oneshot on Lauren and Dean. They should adopt a pet, with a Superntaural twist to it. And the plot bunnies started sticking their noses out of their holes.
Unfortunately, my muses had other ideas. They held the plot bunnies hostage in barbed wire cages, and whipped them until they spilled all their secrets. (My muses are cruel.) And thus, a fic that was supposed to be 2 to 3 pages long became 19. And me and Elrik changed the challenge, along the way, from 'fluffy one shot' to 'exercise in roleplaying' - because he kindly gave me all the answers for Fluffy. (You'll see - and yes, it is a tribute to the discarded challenge.)
ENJOY - and thanks again to Elrik, for everything. The plot bunnies would have escaped and never returned, numerous times, without your diligence and wonderful help and encouragment.
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"Have you found it yet?" Dean whispered, keeping an eye, ear and nose out for the demon that was following us. We'd holed ourselves up in a corner of the museum, where we hoped it wouldn't find us for a little while at least – enough to uncover the spell that would neutralise what was after us. Fat chance; this demon was created specifically for tracking. It'd find us in no time, I was certain. Which was why I was trying to speed read, and Dean's interruptions were NOT helping.
"I'm not a miracle worker! This book is even harder to read than your Dad's journal! Give me a little time, here!"
"We don't have time –"
"I know that as well as you do!"
"Guys, shut up! Lauren, keep looking!" I shot a glare at Sam, who was on my other side, and also watching out for the Canis Spiritus. Realising he was right, and the only way we were getting out of this fix was if I could keep my mind on the small, leather bound book in my lap, I quickly returned my focus there, flicking my eyes over the page, running a finger down it, and turning pages with speed I usually kept for dodging paranormal attacks, and the insults Dean always seemed to throw at me.
Muttering to myself, I tried to keep my mind on the book, and not on the stench that was starting to fill the air – a mixture of ozone and wet pet. Fuck.
"Here it is!" I hissed, then stood up, book open in my palms, mouth open, the words spinning into the air and creating the thick heaviness that came through any workings with the powers that be. "Voco iam beatitas bestia everto ut evinco is canis phasmatis!" I shouted, and felt air swirling all around me, through my loose curls, tangling them in the air, sweeping them into my eyes and whipping them around my head wildly, my clothes flung tightly against my body. I closed my eyes tightly, clutching the book in my fingers, my only hold in this whirlwind – as it was both mental and physical. In my own mind I was swept away in a miasma of lights, colours, sounds – it was indescribable in the babble and garbling thoughts it left in its wake.
Hey, at least the spell worked.
When I opened my eyes the stupid dog demon that had been trailing us was gone. I grinned, spinning around to laugh in Dean's face, and let fly with the 'I told you so!' building in my throat – he'd wanted to find another way to do this, because he didn't think that performing magic would work…or at least, ME performing magic wouldn't work – to see them staring at my feet.
What the hell?
I looked down, and melted.
Its eyes were huge, looking up at me with the kind of innocence and I'm-hurt-please-comfort-me look that you can only ever view properly on small children and fluffy animals – and Sam. They were gold, and green, and huge in the relatively small, triangular face, their shape an extended almond, their expression making my own eyes widen, my mouth tremble.
I picked it up, placing the book carelessly on the floor, and the small black body curled instinctively into my arms, as I turned to look up at Dean. I felt my own face change to mirror the kitten's in my arms, and instead of a snarky comment, let loose a plea…
"Dean…can we keep it? Can we, can we, please?"
"Are you crazy?" Dean asked me, eyebrows raising, glancing up at Sam, as if to check with his brother whether or not I was being serious. I was. How could anyone resist this face? "It just scared off that dog demon, and now you want to keep it? As what, a pet?"
I started to nod, but instantly, the kitten's whole demeanour changed. It turned its eyes onto Dean, and if it were possible, its eyes grew even wider, but this time with out any innocence. No, now it was all indignation. "A pet?" An incredulous voice came from the small body ensconced in my hands. I almost dropped it out of shock, but disguised it as a shift so it might be more comfortable. It hardly noticed. "A PET!? I am a familiar, human. A pet rolls around and urinates on floors all the while BEGGING for attention. That is insulting; and to call me a pet? One might think you've gone insane."
The boys were no less shocked than I was.
A kitten…was telling Dean off.
The smile wriggled insistently around my mouth, but I refused to let it free. It'd only lead to laughter, and considering the feline was in my hands, and might take it the wrong way…well, let's just say I needed my eyes. And any other pieces of my anatomy in reach of its sharp little claws. "I apologise…um, for my…friend. Do you – do you have a name?"
"For you to say my name would be an insult to it."
The laugh clawed at my throat. This 'familiar' was an absolute treasure. It even insulted me – and I couldn't take it the wrong way. It was just funny. I mean, it was a kitten for chrissakes. "Right…" I said slowly, nodding.
"Okay, Lauren, I've had enough. I don't know how you learnt ventriloquism and I don't care. We're not keeping the cat. Put it down, and let's get out of here before the cops do." Okay, Dean, as usual, was being an asshole. And just for the record, I can't do ventriloquism. I look like a total idiot even trying to. Also for the record – yes, I have tried. How could he think it was me? The voice was completely different from mine, a light, but obviously masculine voice, with a slight, indeterminable accent.
Sam was just standing there, eyes slightly narrowed, observing the scene through blue green screens. I wondered what he was thinking about this.
Before I could ask, the kitten spoke again.
"Listen to me human, and listen carefully. I will even use simple words that even a child can comprehend. I. Am. Not. A. Pet. You cannot treat me like one. Nor is she," the cat said with a gesture of its front leg, that somehow indicated me, "speaking for me. I am quite capable of speaking for myself. YOU are lucky I'm speaking this language. I would gladly insult you in a great many languages beyond your comprehension if not for my unfortunate condition..."
"Condition?" Sam asked, quietly, as Dean stared intermittently at me and the kitten, lost somewhere in the realm of confused and insulted. I felt an urge to pet the small body, but didn't, considering its current attitude. The fur, I could feel just by holding it, was smooth, silky, warm. I hadn't held a cat in…years. It was an experience unlike any other, small, sinuous, curving muscles firm under the pelt, under my fingers. All that balance and beauty and grace. Too bad its attitude didn't reflect that.
"I am bound to the person who called me and forced to do their bidding, hence the name familiar. This, unfortunately, expands into speaking in a language that my summoner understands whenever they are within hearing distance."
"S-summoner? Does that mean me?" I asked, voice going squeaky. Oh, this so wasn't the plan. What am I talking about, there was never a plan! And if it turned out I was 'the summoner', and happened to actually ask for anything, it'd probably snark at me until I bled out from metaphorical wounds.
This was, typically, just my luck.
Maybe I should put the cat down, back away slowly, and then run back to the Impala, and the motel. It was tiny. It'd never be able to keep up.
"No, it means Sir Rude and Unamicable. Of course you. And I doubt that this 'Impala' would be able to keep you out of reach, no matter how great a beast it may be. My ability to travel to you is not hindered by my physical form."
"Oh no you did not just read my mind!" I exploded, staring at the furry body in my hands. I held it away from my body, glaring into its – amused, damnit – green eyes. "Invasion of privacy, and – and – yeah, I'm completely out of coherent reasons why this is wrong, it just is. And the Impala is a car. Something you obviously don't know about. So maybe we could scrap the whole know-it-all routine, it's getting –"
"Lauren," Sam said, giving me one of his looks. It was clearly saying, it's a cat. Stop going off at it as though it is a small child.
"How else can I communicate with you over long distances? In case you have not noticed, my voice can not project all that far... And what is this car you speak of? Hmm... Wait." It paused for a few seconds, in which I simply glared at it. Was it being annoying on purpose, or did it just come naturally to it? And what was it doing? Please tell me it's not reading my mind again. "Intriguing. It appears that humans have been busy since the last time I was here. Do you wish for me to adopt a more... recent manner of speech to help you adjust to my presence?"
"Whatever," I muttered, struggling with my equal compulsions to snuggle it up against my face, and to plonk it on the ground and leave, no matter what it said. I was sure that it wouldn't be able to follow… would it? I mean, what could it do? Yeah, not going there. I don't need, or want to know. Finally I settled for cradling it in my arms as I had been earlier – my arms were getting sore from holding it away from my body, and in mid-air.
"The former would be preferred even from you. The latter would only deprive you of me for mere instants."
"Stop reading my mind!"
"Lauren, can you at least make Salem here speak English?" Dean asked, finally frustrated by the kitten's mode of speech.
"You did not just allude to Sabrina the Teenage Witch," I said, and blinked at him, speechless. Dean…watching…Sabrina. I coughed to hide my giggle. The image was just too funny for words.
Sam grinned, raising his eyebrows at his brother, who avoided his eyes. He was taking this situation remarkably well. Damn him.
"Salem is a cat. I am a familiar. Use the correct identifier human, or I will be tempted to do something when the summoner departs from your presence that would make you feel regret. Are you incapable of comprehending that? I am speaking this crude language you call 'English'. Do I need to switch to a more familiar dialect?"
Dean glared at me, and I rolled my eyes, sighing. I suppose it wouldn't hurt. "If you would be so kind," I said. I hoped no one could detect the sarcasm.
"Very well. Call me a pet again, and I'll show you the meaning of pain the second she leaves you alone. I am always awake moron. I know when you sleep. I know when you eat. The second you're alone, and I do mean the very second, I will introduce your face and various other parts of your body to my best friend – Claw."
At that I lost the struggle with laughter. It burst out of me and I shook, holding the kitten against my chest and closing my eyes. "You can't deny, you so deserved that, Dean," I giggled. "Well done," I told the kitten. And then got fed up with calling it 'the kitten' and 'the cat in my own mind. "Now, what's your name? Please."
"Trust me, my name is above you. Call me what you wish."
"Fine," I said, in the mood for a little payback. "We'll call you Fluffy."
"That's...fine."
"I'm glad you agree," I said, smiling widely. I glanced over to where Sam and Dean were trying, unsuccessfully, to muffle their amusement, and opened my mouth to tell them to shut up. But then, the city finally responded to the alarm that had been going off in the museum since the dog demon woke up, and we had to leave.
Right now.
"Is Fluffy coming with us?" Dean asked, as we quickly glanced at each other, bodies ready to spring into action, but unsure of the direction.
"A simple equation. You calling me fluffy human equals claw plus face. And I can't leave Her side for long."
Oh, joy. That's just a bunch of daffodils to know.
"Lauren, you're its summoner, or whatever, can't you put a sock in it?" Dean asked, exasperated, and finally leading the way over to the fire escape. Sam and I followed, hearing sounds that were not too comforting, and not too far away.
Police. Ugh.
"Claw. Face."
"Haven't you got any other insults?" Dean asked, already out the window. Sam climbed out after him swiftly, and then I held Fluffy out to Dean.
"Take him for a second," I said, breathless. I could've just put him down I suppose, but… well, I didn't want to…he was so small…and – and besides, Dean deserved it. I wasn't getting out of here, unless he took Fluffy.
"What? No!"
"Don't be a coward! He won't hurt you! Will you, Fluffy?"
Fluffy said nothing, the silence an obvious answer, all on its own. "Sam?" I asked, hurriedly. He took the kitten, holding it carefully in his big hands, in which Fluffy was practically swallowed up. I didn't think the kitten could look any smaller. I was wrong.
Quick as a flash I was out the window, I had Fluffy back, and we were outta there!
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Back at the motel I lay on the bed, a couple of pillows under my arms, watching Dean and Sam pace about. Dean was going on about how we had to 'get rid of the thing' before it 'eats us in our sleep' or something. Sam was being quiet and contemplative. Fluffy was watching them both, sitting straight backed at the end of my bed, sharp golden green eyes taking in every detail.
It was just how he acted when he saw the Impala. Put simply – it was black. He likes.
Fluffy pandered over. "I don't know what you see in him," he said, quietly, but the disgust and puzzlement still plain in his voice.
I felt my body flush all over. "Like who?" I asked. No, no, no – don't think, don't even think – how does he know I like Dean? FUCK! I didn't just think that – I didn't just – my mind is blank, nothing, nothing, nothing…he wouldn't tell… would he? Crap. Got to stop thinking.
"You're like glass; I can see right through you."
"Oh, right. Um…" I came up blank. What the hell was I supposed to say to a cat who knew everything? Or at least, thought it did. I didn't like Dean. I mean, not in any special way that would equate to him mentioning it to me, as though – as though – yeah, I've got nothing. My mind was still ricocheting off and away from the idea of it, so that Fluffy might not catch on.
"I don't know everything. Just everything you know. From your favourite food, to your celebrity crushes." He studied me for a moment. "Fine. If you don't want me reading your mind, I'll stop."
I sighed, feeling kind of guilty. It wasn't his fault. And besides… it was kind of nice. Having someone who just knew. Who I could talk to. Sort of. "No sweat. But if you know what I know, how come you don't know why I like…him?" I paused. "And did you understand that, because even I'm struggling."
"I ignored any deep thoughts. I only focused on what you know and not why you know it."
"Huh. I see. Well, it's not really a good idea to talk about it right here, in front of them. I don't want Dean to know. It's complicated." I glanced over to the boys, seeing Dean still gesticulating wildly with his arms and pacing back and forth, and Sam nodding and pretending to listen. It was cute – funny, but cute. I wanted to bite him.
Oh crap, mind reading kitten! Batten down those urges!
"Should I remind you that although I've stopped actively reading your mind, your brain sends off thought signals?"
"Sorry," I said, flushing an even darker red colour. "Um…is there a particular reason you brought it up, besides wishing to make me catch on fire from embarrassment?"
"I sensed pretty much the equivalent of… how do you say this? An 'oh shit' coming from you. I thought it appropriate to say."
I held back a hysterical giggle at Fluffy's curse. "That tends to happen when I want to jump his bones, and there's a telepathic kitten with a smart mouth in the vicinity."
"Too. Much. Detail. Crap! I'm going native!"
I laughed, and the boys looked at me. Quickly I covered my mouth, but it was a little too late. "You think this is funny?" Dean asked, hazel green eyes narrowing slightly. I wanted to melt into the floor. That way no one would take any notice of me. "It's your fault we're stuck with this thing, and now you find it funny? It could be dangerous, for all we know! We should have just left it at the damn museum!"
"So sorry I made an actual, effective attempt to get rid of the dog demon Dean! Next time I'll leave you to shoot rock salt bullets at it, until you die!"
Fluffy looked at Sam. "I feel so sorry for you. Enduring this must be hell."
"You learn to ignore it after a while," Sam answered, seemingly undisturbed by the fact he was speaking to a cat.
"You could have at least read what the spell was going to do before you –"
"Yeah, because I totally had time to do that, with the thing literally bearing down on us and you telling me to get on with it –"
"Should we intervene?" Fluffy asked Sam, studying the way Dean and I were arguing, with head slightly cocked to the side.
"No, no. It's better to just let it run its course. They'll ignore us if we try, anyway."
"Okay then."
"You know we can hear you?" I asked, turning to the kitten and Sam, eyes narrowed, crossing my arms over my abdomen. I was not amused.
"I know. I just thought you would ignore us considering your WHOLE focus would be on Dean and his arguments."
I acted as if I couldn't hear the double meaning beneath Fluffy's words. Damn manipulative, catty, bastardised… I coughed. "Yeah, yeah. Well, I'm tired. So can we deal with this in the morning?" I knew I was taking the easy way out of the scenario, but I couldn't bring myself to care.
"Lauren –" Dean said, his tone clearly stating, you are not getting out of it that easily.
I ignored him.
"Shall we end this now, or later?" Fluffy asked me, as though the other two didn't even exist.
"Later, definitely. Now, sleep?"
"Okay. Human," Fluffy said, pointedly glaring straight at Dean, "unless you want me to introduce you to the permanent condition of sterility, I think you'll want to go to sleep now too."
Dean fidgeted, practically invisibly, as if judging the seriousness of the little kitten's statement. Making up his mind he said, "Yeah, whatever." I guess he really does appreciate having a penis. Go figure.
So, I crawled into bed, and the boys flicked off the lights, squabbling over who got the bed and who had to sleep on the floor. Sam won. As they settled down I became conscious of the comfortable, warm weight of Fluffy settling down to sleep near my feet, and as I drifted off, my last thoughts were of this maybe not being so bad after all.
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"So this is how you dream... interesting."
I came out of one of my more sane dreams – one about swimming through a giant rhubarb and apple pie, so I could get to the other side and save Dean from a swarm of mini-aeroplanes that were trying to attack him, only to fall through the bottom and into the seventeenth century – to see Fluffy sitting on my chest, practically nose to nose with me, green eyes wide and fascinated, as though he was watching a movie.
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" I yelled, before coming entirely awake. My whole body jerked, startled, trying instinctively to get away from the kitten. Immediately Sam and Dean were awake, Dean with his huge, silver knife clutched in his hand, Sam in an offensive fighting pose, both of them searching the room with wide eyes.
Oops.
"What the hell are you doing?" Dean yelled at Fluffy, brandishing his knife. "Get off her!"
"Hmmm... Why do you care so much? I am a familiar after all. Her familiar to be exact... Constant contact is required."
"You – you – I'm trying to protect her. You're supernatural, and we still haven't established whether you're to be trusted, so –" Despite his quick response, Dean seemed kind of flustered. I blinked at everyone. Sam was sitting on his bed, relaxed now, and reclining against his pillows, while Fluffy was watching Dean, seemingly very amused about something.
"I'm fine," I said, but was ignored. Fluffy was still watching Dean, Dean was still glaring at Fluffy, and Sam was still eyeing them both. Deciding to break the tension I grabbed the pillow behind my head and threw it at Dean.
"What the hell was that for?" he asked, more surprised than anything.
"I said, I'm fine. And I trust Fluffy. Get over it."
"Thank you," Fluffy said, and I waved a hand at him, dismissing the comment.
"Yeah, yeah. Anytime. Can I have my chest back? I'd like to get up."
"Oh. Sorry." He got off me, and I hopped out of the bed, running a hand through my hair and shaking it out of my face.
"Okay, you boys play nice. I'm going to go have a shower." Before they could protest, I had my clothes and toiletries and was shutting the door.
Surely they could survive for five minutes without me.
Maybe not.
I stepped out of the bedroom, wet hair still wrapped up in a towel on my head, turban style, to see Dean chasing Fluffy around the room, promising the kitten a violent death. Needless to say, Fluffy was staying well out of reach.
"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" I shouted, dropping my dirty clothes in shock at the scene. Never had I seen Dean acting so childish and undignified – outside of when he was fighting with me or Sam, that is. Speaking of Sam, where was he? Maybe he'd –
Immediately, while Dean was distracted – looking at me, for a split second – Fluffy swiped at his bare ankles, and then disappeared.
What the hell?
I looked around the room, then turned to check behind me, to see if that was where he had gone. Seconds later I felt Dean pressed up all against me, and saw his arms reaching for Fluffy, who was sitting in the bathroom doorway, which I was standing just in front of.
There was something that looked suspiciously like a smirk smeared across Fluffy's face.
And then I realised that, hey, I had Dean's body pressed all along my back. For no other reason than because he was trying to get to my familiar. Damn.
Angry, I spun around to give Dean a piece of my mind – and, admittedly, my fist – but at that moment he tried to move forwards again, to get the cat, and I found my entire front pushed against him. Chest to thighs. Oh, so not good.
Our eyes met. My breaths strangled themselves in my throat. I felt a sharp urge to move even closer, and –
"Hi, guys, I brought coffee!" Sam's cheerful voice sounded, along with the opening of the door. Dean and I sprang apart as though burnt, and I almost tripped over the cat. "What happened?" Sam asked, staring at the two of us, me, my face approximately the colour of a tomato, Dean, struggling to act natural. He'd obviously noticed our previous proximity.
Fluffy answered.
"I, like any good being in existence, wanted to live up to the promise I made Dean here yesterday. Obviously Dean was not so happy about me doing the right thing."
"The right thing?" Dean exclaimed. "You attacked me!"
"Oh, Deanikins… did the big bad puddy tat scratch your widdle ankle? Let mummy kiss it better," I said, my voice thick with false contempt, amusement and sarcasm. My body was still zinging wildly from the contact we'd just shared, and I wanted, quite simply, to crawl into a hole somewhere, where no one would find me, until this unhealthy reaction to his presence disappeared. Or to attack Dean.
Got to stop thinking, right now.
Sam snorted, and hid it inside a cough when his brother glared at him, placing the tray of coffee cups down on the table.
"You called me a pet. You didn't say it out loud, but I heard it. You were warned," Fluffy deadpanned, completely unremorseful over his actions – I am going to kill that kitten, later – and sprinted across the room, jumped up on a chair, and then onto a table. He eyed the three cups. "Does this mean I don't get coffee?" he asked, and gave me his patented, huge-eyed stare.
I bit back my smile. "Um, I really don't think you'd like it."
"Nonsense. I can handle drinks made of 20 alcohol, I can handle this. Now gimme."
"Fine," I said, and shrugged. There was the problem of what to give him the coffee in – he couldn't exactly sip some from my cup. And we didn't own any saucers, which was the customary thing for cats to use. I spied the ashtray, and picked it up, considering his delicate sensibilities. Too bad. If he wanted some, this was as gentile as it would get. The ashtray was clean, but I gave it an extra rub with my shirt before putting a small measure of my coffee in it and placing it in front of Fluffy. "Don't whinge to me if you hate it."
"Relax. If I feel pain, I could give it to someone else."
"You…what?" I asked, but he was already sticking his tongue in the light brown liquid.
He didn't act in any way untoward, so I shrugged, and started drinking out of my cup, ignoring everyone and just sinking into the pleasure of the warmth trickling down my throat. Ah…coffee. Now I feel awake. Well, that's how it usually makes me feel. Getting woken up by a talking cat, getting full body contact with Dean, and being so embarrassed I'm liable to catch on fire, all within half an hour, obviously does the job just as well as caffeine. Not as gradually though. I'll stick to stimulating drinks, rather than scenarios.
"Pack," Dean said. "We leave in ten minutes."
It was time to start travelling to our next hunt.
Oh…maybe this wasn't the best idea. If we were all stuck in the car, Fluffy would have unlimited access to us, and any of our thoughts he wished to view – and we'd have no escape.
I wasn't going to tell Dean that though; he might remember that whole, getting rid of Fluffy thing. And I didn't want that. I was actually learning to tolerate – and even enjoy – his company.
"May I remind you that I can only read other people's thoughts that they either a) don't actively hide or b) send to other people?"
"That's still enough to make me nervous," I said, and he did the kitten equivalent of a shrug, jumping off the table and onto the bed.
"Wake me when we're leaving," he said, and to all appearances, went to sleep. Obviously, caffeine had no effect on him.
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We'd been driving for about two hours. Silently.
It was getting on my nerves, all of us sitting there, Sam trying to ignore Dean's music, Dean not singing along, unlike he usually did, and me pretending to read a novel that I was completely uninterested in. Fluffy was curled up on the seat next to me, eyes closed, but I could tell he wasn't asleep. He just had nothing better to do, like the rest of us.
"No, I probably don't know any of the demons you've defeated."
"Who's mind are you reading now?" I asked, bored. It wasn't mine.
"No one's. Dean just sent that thought out."
"Well, since you could obviously get rid of that dog demon, I was wondering what else you can do," Dean said, without looking back. However, a slight flush was creeping up his neck.
"Well, I could melt your brains out..."
"Please don't," I said, keeping my eyes on the pages of my book. "It's not worth the effort."
"I'm sure if I could it wouldn't be."
Sam and I laughed. Dean ignored Fluffy. "Come on Fluffy, tell us," I coerced. "What are your powers? I can't exactly do anything with you if I don't know."
"I can be wherever you are when I want to."
"So you don't do anything other than take up space? We already noticed that," Dean said, and I knew he was rolling his eyes, though all I could see was the back of his head.
"I could also read Her mind, and catch any thoughts you free from anyone else's. Including the ones you don't mean to let loose..."
"Such as?" Dean brazened out, dismissal and disbelief clear in his voice familiar. I sat up straighter. Now this… could be interesting.
"Are you sure you want the others to know?"
"You're bluffing," Dean said. Uh oh…
"Want to risk it? I mean if I tell everyone in this car, that means leverage for everyone against you. Your one dream, used against you like a weapon..."
"Now you can't keep it Fluffy. Come on, tell!" I said, giving up all pretence of reading, and leaning towards the kitten, chin sitting on my fist. Dean was… conspicuously silent. Now I really have to know. Even Sam was looking over the back of his seat.
"No. Not even you could pry this from me. It's for him to tell the rest of you when he's ready."
"That's so unfair…being all…cryptic. Just a hint? Please…?" I begged. Why was I so interested? It was probably just some wet dream about getting it on with Pamela Anderson, or something similarly likely to make me upchuck in my mouth. I should just let it go. But hey, they say curiosity killed the cat, but the cat already knows so it's up to the infatuated human to chance getting her fingers burnt.
I'm confusing myself again.
"He'll tell you when the time is right."
"Ugh, fine," I said, giving up and falling back against my seat. It was obvious I wasn't getting anywhere through that quarter. "What about that coffee thing? Giving someone else your pain, or whatever it was. What was that about?"
"Maybe it'd be easier for me to show you. Who wants to hit me?"
"I'd…rather not," I said, eyes wide. Sam just stared.
"I would, but I'm driving at the moment," Dean muttered. I grinned. No surprise there.
"Fine, just give me a light slap." Fluffy was staring straight at me, eyes unwavering. Damn. He had to put this on me, didn't he? I reached out tentatively, and thinking about him teleporting behind me, and the resulting repercussions, was able to hit him lightly on the side with the palm of my hand.
I just slapped a kitten.
"Ow!" Dean said, dropping a hand from the steering wheel to his side. "What the hell?"
"Conclusion of Hitting Kitten Experiment… Fluffy dislikes Dean," I said. "Okay, anything else we should know about, Fluffy, or are you going to continue emulating Yoda?"
"If you could cast magic, I would be able to help."
"I can… I mean, I did. To get you here. But I left the book at the museum…" I face-palmed. Smart, or what? The police might even be able to use it to get my fingerprints...
"Hmmm?"
"What 'hmmm'? I did! If I had it here again, I'd prove it to you!" I was cut. First Dean and now Fluffy didn't believe I was able to do a simple spell. I'd shown Dean when I summoned Fluffy, although he probably didn't care, considering the repercussions… Anyways, now a bitchy kitten doubted me? Harsh.
"I'm just wondering. If you could summon me with just words from a book… no preparation whatsoever..."
"I needed to prepare?" I asked, flabbergasted. "Prepare what?" My mind flickered back to the top of the page, above the spell; there had been this whole thing about candles and circles and chalk, but I hadn't thought it was important. Had I done something wrong? Oh crap! What if there was some sort of backfire?
"A regular summon usually requires a medium to lessen the strain. Usually this is done by a magical circle or a mixture of some sort... Maybe the spell took energy from your desperation. Lord knows that's triggered many spells in the past. The burning of Rome for instance."
"Um… does this mean something? Or should I just waive it off as an anomaly?" I asked, fidgeting, running page 23 of the book I was holding through my fingers again and again, a nervous habit.
"You were around during the Roman era?" Sam asked, intrigued. I shushed him – so not important right now.
"It means you have some measure of magical ability. All human beings have the potential for magic. The amount however depends on the person... And yes, I was summoned during the Roman era, namely during the rule of Nero, hence why I know how Rome burned. One of the prisoners was a witch. She tried to escape and was being chased; I was conjured to track her down. Her desperation, like yours, fuelled it, creating an inferno."
"Eep." A squeak escaped my mouth. Did that mean that little No-Name town back there was going to burn to the ground because of me? Oh crap. "We have to turn around –" I spluttered.
"No, relax. But it may mean that I'm going to be here longer than a couple of weeks…"
"What?" Dean groaned from the front, finally coming out of his quiet. Good, I'd been worried for a second there. Dean being quiet was never a good sign. "We have to put up with you for how long?"
"I have no idea myself. I've never been summoned by someone desperate. They're usually prepared."
"Sorry," I muttered, staring down at my hands. At least I hadn't made the museum burst into flames or something. "Uh… yeah. Okay. So… I can do magic. That's just dandy." Magic. Me.
It was – well, I can't say impossible, considering the things I see everyday. I can say 'laughable' though. And 'dangerous'. And 'insane'.
Crap.
"Considering there's no-one to train you, you should be careful. Playing around with something that can cause fires and make people fall in love will get you in trouble..."
"Fall in love?" I asked, interest automatically spiking.
Dean and Sam snorted. "Yeah, right," they grunted in unison. "You can't play around with stuff like that," Dean continued, not even glancing back at Fluffy and I in the rear view mirror. "And that thing at the museum was just a fluke – you were able to summon him because you were desperate, no other reason. You wouldn't be able to do anything like it again."
He couldn't have said anything more grating to me. He should have known by now, that he was practically handing me a challenge on a silver platter – and I could never have resisted.
"Oh, really?" I asked, eyes narrowed. I bet I could make YOU fall in love with me.
"Don't even dare. Changing people's emotions is difficult not to mention cruel. And I don't care what you think..."
"Oh?" Please. I'll take it off straight after. I just want to prove that I can.
"It's not that easy."
"What do you mean?"
"This is not a television show. Yes, I know what they are. You can't just cast a spell then take it off instantly. Unless you have the appropriate counter-spell, you can't undo it."
"If we got that book back that I left at the museum…"
"We aren't going back there, especially not on one of your harebrained urges," Dean said from the front, and Sam eyed me.
"Lauren, you don't need to prove anything to us. I saw as well as Dean did how you did that spell, it was amazing. Don't worry about it."
"Whatever, Sam," I said, pretending to concede, and pulling my book up so it covered my face. I was going to show Dean; and besides… I just wanted to see, just for a little while, what it'd be like to have Dean in love with me, like I was with him. What could it hurt?
Fluffy stayed silent.
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I was sitting on the floor of the bathroom, in yet another motel. It was just one in the long line that made up a big percentage of my life. Motels, sleazy bars and diners, and the endless stream of haunted houses and dark, spooky places. That was what my life was made up of.
And I wouldn't trade it for anything.
Fluffy was sitting a couple of inches away – the bathroom wasn't all that spacious, and I took up most of the cracked, tiled floor. "If you want the book, you're going to have to summon it," Fluffy said, and I blinked at him.
"What, no more 'this is a bad idea'? No more, 'you're going to regret it'? I'm shocked at you Fluffy, shocked."
"Who am I to interrupt the games of a child?"
"I am not a child!" I whispered angrily, hurt, and trying to keep my voice down, so the boys wouldn't realise what I was doing – the exact reason I'd holed myself up in the bathroom in the first place. "Now, how do I summon the book?"
"Focus on the book and where it is now."
I did so, breathing deeply and trying to empty my mind, as I used to be instructed to do in meditation classes in high school. Everyone had to take it, to relieve stress or some babble like that. Surprisingly, it had kind of worked for me – and considering my hectic and at times over-exuberant, energetic and tiring personality, it was a blessing to be able to go into a quiet space for a while, and just loose all that power. I focused on the book in my head, visualising the leather bound rectangle, its texture smooth and uneven from where it had been held over the centuries. "Yes…" I whispered. I could see it, sitting on a table somewhere, in a plastic bag marked evidence. Police station…
"Imagine that it's in front of you," Fluffy's voice intruded on my awareness, and I followed his directions, seeing the book in front of me, on the broken black and white tiles near my bare feet, the brown leather a stunning contrast to the cold floor. "Now take it in your arms." I could practically feel it settling between my palms like a living thing, the comfortable weight of knowledge and magic it contained between its pages now between my hands. "Open your eyes."
The small book was there, in my hands, as I'd imagined it to be. I grinned, looking up into Fluffy's face. "I did it!" I whispered, buoyed instantly. "Awesome."
"Good for you."
"Thanks," I replied, ignoring the sarcasm. I was already flipping through the pages, searching for the spell. When I came to it I blinked. There was no preparation needed, only a small, two lined paragraph set near the bottom of the page, in miniscule, flowing calligraphy. Considering the whole, 'changing people's emotions is difficult not to mention cruel' speech Fluffy spouted at me, and all, I'd expected it to be a whole lot more difficult.
"It is. Make no mistake."
"But…it's so…short."
"Which means it's both inaccurate and unstable."
"Huh. If you say so." I edged my way over to the door, opening it up a crack. Dean was just where I'd seen him last, asleep on the bed. Sam had woken up from another nightmare about Jessica, and had gone for a walk, so I figured this was probably the best time to do the spell – that way I wouldn't accidentally get Sam, or something.
Now that would be embarrassing. The kid's like a little brother to me.
I glanced down at the page again, then at Fluffy, suddenly nervous. What if it did work? What would Dean do? What would I do? Crap. I can't back out now.
"A alica of diligo in is imbellis unique; Sinus suus mediocris affectus in ut meus alio, planto him mei," I whispered, staring straight at the unsuspecting lump on the bed that was Dean.
And then the door opened to emit Sammy, and the spell swerved – it was this ball of pink light, and it actually swerved – and hit him straight in the chest.
Oops.
I slammed the bathroom door, and locked it, pressing my back up against the wood. "Fluffy," I squeaked, hugging the book to my chest. "Problem."
"You made the problem. Deal with it."
"How?!" I asked, my voice going even higher – which I really hadn't though was possible, considering I'd sounded like a mouse that had just been trodden on originally. Now I sounded like a eunuch mouse that's just been trodden on.
Just craptastic.
Wait, did it even work? I mean, the pink light could have just been a neon reflection off of something…Sam could be unaffected… maybe I was just imagining…it.
"Oh, it worked. It's working quite well."
"How do you know?" The words came out of me in a piping, high voice, and I winced. Was it going to go back down to normal calibre anytime soon?
"Look outside."
I did so.
Sam was standing in the same place he had been when the spell had given him the whammy – one foot in the door, hand on the doorknob – and his face was completely dazed. When he saw me he smiled, closed the door, then got down on one knee, holding both of his hands out towards me.
And then he started to sing.
"Wise men say, only fools rush in, but I can't help, falling in love… with you…"
My eyes widened, until I felt they were going to pop out their sockets. Sam…was serenading…me. And not well. Did I mention that boy couldn't hit a tune to save his life?
Oh my god.
"What the hell?" Dean muttered, turning in his sleep. He sat up, hair sticking in all directions, staring at Sam.
And still, Sammy didn't stop.
"Shall I stay, would it be a sin, if I can't help, falling in love… with you…" Sam was practically bellowing the words, his eyes closed, and his as far as I could see, trying to bat bugs away from his face. Maybe he was gesturing his love in some way. Oh crap.
"Lauren…" Dean said, and his eyes arrowed straight to me. I stared at him, horrified then tried to cover by grinning innocently. He didn't buy it so I then slammed the door again, and locked it. I could still hear Sam, even through the door. You couldn't even call that singing.
It was… caterwauling.
Oh god.
"Fuck!" I cursed, then scrambled through the book, turning pages feverishly. "Fluffy, where's the reversal spell?" I asked, breathless. I couldn't see it anywhere. Anywhere. Damnit!
"Your mess, fix it yourself."
Dean started banging on the door. "Lauren, get out here and fix it or I'll knock the door down!" he yelled, and I paused, staring at the door and my proximity to it before standing up and scrambling over to sit on the toilet before continuing my search. I knew Dean would do it – and I didn't want to have the door on top of me.
"Please!" I begged. The pages were yielding nothing. NOTHING. Fuckfuckfuckfuck.
"I'm teaching you a lesson. No use begging."
I cast a wild look at the kitten, and then at the door, which was shaking as Dean continued to hammer on it with desperate fists. And Sam was still singing.
"Okay," I said, and breathed in, and out, and in, and out, then went and opened the door.
Dean halted in the action of knocking – more like freaking pounding – on the door, fist in the air just above my head. "What did you do?" he asked in a deadly quiet voice.
"Uh…can't you guess?" I asked brightly, and Sam stood up, came over and held my hand. Then began kissing it. I tried to ignore him, the grin stretched across my mouth straining as I struggled to meet Dean's eyes.
He stared at Sam. "Dude, what the fuck are you doing?"
Sam barely glanced up at his brother where he was bent over my hand. Fluffy was still saying nothing.
"Um… well, you know that spell we were talking about in the car? The one with the, the falling in love, and stuff? Yeah, I did it. I meant to do it to you to show you I could do magic, but then Sam walked in and –"
"I love it when you say my name," Sam moaned against my hand, and started kissing up my wrist.
I squeaked, not even a word, just a sound, and tried to pull my hand away. He didn't let go, so, starting to flush a wonderful red colour, I continued. "He," I peeped, gesturing to Sam with my free hand, "walked in and it went on him."
"You were trying to cast a spell on me? To make me fall in love with you? Why?"
"I already said," I muttered, staring at the floor. Sam was reaching my neck. I felt that had gone far enough, by god, so I shook him off me, and went and sat on one of the beds, hugging my knees to my chest. "And now Fluffy won't help me turn him back," I said, putting as much kicked-puppy into my voice as I possibly could. I made my lower lip tremble – which really wasn't that hard to do. I hadn't met to do this to Sam. I felt bad.
"You are such a child."
"Do you have a point? Or do you just want to compound on how bad I'm feeling?" I asked Fluffy, who had spoken at last. He jumped up on the bed, and as though following his example so did Sam. He looped his arm around me and snuggled into my neck. This…is so beyond awkward. Dean was watching with a kind of horrified anger, and I couldn't even meet his eyes I was so embarrassed. "I don't know how to fix it, I've never done this kind of thing before," I said, and staring at the stained coverlet, tears starting to clog my throat and burn the back of my eyes. "I never meant to get Sam, and besides, I was only going to do it for a minute and reverse it but I don't know what spell to use and I can't find it…" I trailed off, and swallowed.
"It's alright sweetheart," Sam said, rubbing my bare arm with his big hand. It just made me feel even worse. I'd never heard Sam call anyone sweetheart, and now the spell was making him do it to me.
"Which was why I told you not to do it," Fluffy said, completely unyielding.
"Can you fix this?" Dean asked the kitten, eyes narrowed. Fluffy stayed silent. "Can you fix this?" Dean asked again, this time in the voice that immediately meant trouble.
Fluffy said nothing.
"Dean, leave him alone. I – I did this, and I have to fix it. I just… I don't know how. I don't even know if there's a spell in there." Fluffy remained soundless, while Sam continued to nuzzle my neck, and Dean glared at me, and, intermittently, the kitten. "Dean – can you – um, will you get me the book I left in the toilet? Please? I'll look again." Dean opened his mouth – probably to tell me to get off my ass and do it myself – but then he considered my position on the bed, Sam draped over me like a huge, living afghan with a sexual drive, and stomped off to get the book. I glanced at Sam, then, disturbed, turned my gaze back onto Fluffy. "Is there a spell in there?" I should have checked before I even tried to do the spell. I'm so stupid sometimes…
"Possibly. I myself haven't checked. And as for the stupid, at least you admit it."
"Mmmmmhm. Thanks for the confidence boost there, Sparky. Tell me, does everyone get to see this side of your sparkling, enthusiastic personality, or am I the only lucky one?"
Dean returned from getting the book, and dropped it on my lap, looming over me like some dark clouds, portending bad, bad weather. He crossed his arms, and eyeing his brother – who was starting to tongue my neck as though it was an ice cream, or something – said, "Get started."
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There was no reversal spell in the book.
My only response to this revelation, which I kindly didn't share with either of the Winchester boys, was to calmly get up, remove Sam, put the book on the bed, walk back into the bathroom, and lock the door.
There, I started to bang my head against the wall.
"Don't. Doing that kills brain cells. You need them to think."
Fluffy had teleported in to berate me.
"How can I think, alright? I turned one of my best friends into a lovesick milksop, my other best friend is pissed at me for doing so – understandably – and there is no fucking spell in that worthless book!" I hissed, sliding down onto the floor and putting my head on my knees. "Damnit. What am I supposed to do, Fluffy? Write a spell?"
"See? Brain cells are useful."
"Write a – write a spell? Me?" I laughed hoarsely. "Mmmmmhm. Because that is totally possible and not the stupidest idea I've ever heard. You know, besides, hey, let's try a love spell, because I'm an idiot and want to toy around with the natural order of things!"
"Are you going to shut up and start writing, or will I have to use force?"
"What are you going to do, slap me? I know I deserve it, but that's just a little harsh… and considering your…uh…aesthetics at the moment, kind of impossible."
"Not exactly," he said, big eyes studying me. And then he turned, and ran full speed into a wall.
"Ow! What the – what the hell was that?" I yelled at him, clutching my head. It was – well…the yelling wasn't really a good idea. It felt like my brains were sloshing out the side of my head. "You gave me your pain? What are you, crazy? You just ran into the wall! On purpose!"
"Now write. Don't make me do that again."
"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, glaring at the – now intolerably smug looking – kitten. "With what? Toilet paper and eyeliner? I am not going out there again. I'd rather die than suffer Sam all over me like some sort of – I don't even know. It was just wrong. He's like my little brother. Do you want your little brother kissing on your neck? I think not."
"Fine then, we're just going to make a spell on the spot."
"Fine," I said. "But you should know… my poetry? Yeah, nonexistent."
"Doesn't matter. What exactly was the spell?"
"You mean I have to go out there and get it? I can't bloody remember what it was; it was all flowery Latin and babble." I glanced nervously at the door. I did not want to go out there. Ever, ever again. Or you know, at least until Sam's fixed up and Dean doesn't want to strangle me even more than usual.
"Latin? Great. I'm rusty."
"Yeah, well I have the accent of an aardvark. We make the best team, ever!"
"Just summon the book."
"That'd take more effort than getting off my ass, and getting it myself." I sighed. "I'll just… it'll only be a couple of seconds that I'm even out there." I strode hesitantly to the doorway, and put my hand on the doorknob, deliberating the pros and cons. Then I opened the door – and Sam, who I can only assume had his body pressed against the door, fell inside onto the tiles. "What the hell are you doing?" I asked, eyes wide and staring at him, all sprawled across the tiles and looking up at me with big, blue green eyes, like a super grown kicked puppy.
"He wanted to be close to you," Dean said, voice dry and deadpan, from where he was sitting on the bed, cleaning his guns. I see him doing that all the time – they need to be well oiled and at the top of their game for every hunt, as the trigger sticking could get any one of us killed. It was routine, normal, safe, and a habit for Dean when he was worried. But now…well… it was starting to make me nervous. I'd just bewitched the guy's brother, after all.
I skirted around Sam, who was still lying on the floor, and grabbed the book. "We're going to fix this, Sam," I said, trying to sound reassuring and like I didn't want to hide in a corner somewhere. I gathered up some paper and a pencil while I was at it, avoiding looking at Dean. "Okay? Now don't worry, 'cause I know you're in there somewhere, wanting to beat on my ass."
"What are you talking about, baby? I love you."
"Yeah, uh huh. Now move; I need to close this door in your face." I did so, then leaned back against it. "Can you imagine if Dean were acting like that?" I said to Fluffy, shaking my head in consternation. "That would be…just… so wrong."
"And yet you tried anyway."
"I know, I know." I sighed, and got down on the floor, putting the book, pencil and paper between my legs. I whispered to him, not wanting the guys outside to hear, and staring at the floor in embarrassment. "It's just… I mean… I just wanted to see what it would be like, you know? It's kind of hard, the whole, unreciprocated love thing. And then you came along, and I just, I thought, maybe I had a chance for a second – just so I'd have a memory of it. Selfish, and so wrong and twisted, but hey. I never said I wasn't."
"Good, you're learning."
"Does this mean you'll help me now?" I asked hopefully, and grinned at him, trying to cover up for that chick flick moment.
"Let's see."
I opened the book to the page with the love spell in it, and turned the book around to face the kitten. "Here. Can you translate it? I mean, even a rough idea might help, right?"
"I've been used to speaking non-human languages so my Latin is rusty. Wait..." I waited. "Ah. It appears that this is a basic love spell. Unrefined and unstable, but basic nonetheless."
"Yeah…and that's new information how?" I asked gathering the paper and putting it on my lap, holding the pencil poised over it. "What should I write? Do we have to do it Latin, because I'm telling you now… that'll be kind of impossible. For me anyway."
"Read it backwards."
"That's it? That's your plan? What if it just makes him hate me or something?"
"To make him hate you would need another spell. Just read it backwards."
"Fine." I opened the door again, picking up the book and spinning around on the floor to face Sam. "Sammy?" I said.
"Yeah?"
"Mei him planto, alio meus ut in affectus mediocris suus sinus; unique imbellis is in diligo of alica a."
"Lauren?" Sam said, eyes blinking suddenly back to life, and not looking all sappy and just, you know, love struck.
"Yes, Sam?" I asked, and smiled at him, happy to have my little brother back.
"I'm going to shoot you ever do that to me again."
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Fluffy's been with us for over a month now. Of course, Dean and him still fight like – well, like cats and dogs, and me and Sam get between them. But I think we're all starting to settle down, to accept Fluffy as part of the team, of the family – as one of us.
"Hey, Lauren?" Fluffy said, jumping up onto my bed, and stalking over to where I was reading a novel. I barely glanced at him, used to the ritual of him coming to tell me something completely bitchy, and probably inane about what the boys were thinking, or about what our next hunt was, or even that he was bored. The Winchesters were out at the local bar, relaxing after a hard day's work tracking down the story of a poltergeist though, so it was probably the latter.
Therefore, unimportant.
"Yeah?"
"Remember, when I told you that I didn't know when I was going to go back?"
"Mmmmmhm," I said, mind still intrinsically entwined with what Arthur Conan Doyle had written. Damnit Watson, of course that's what he means!
"I know now."
And suddenly Sherlock Holmes didn't seem all that fascinating anymore.
"What do you mean you know now?" I asked, sitting up, and staring at him. The book lay forgotten on the pillow, pages starting to turn backwards from the lack of being held down.
"I know when I'm going. Duh."
"Well obviously that, but I mean – when? I mean, you can't! You're – you're – you just can't!"
"I can and I will... in about ten minutes."
"Ten – ten minutes?!"
"Yeah, and as a parting gift, can both you and Dean hook up already? Jeez. The waiting was killing me!"
"I – I – uhblung." My mouth just spat out the first random sound that came to my mind. I was completely and utterly shocked. He'd been waiting for us to pash? I mean, what the hell? "What? Hook up? Me and Dean, hook up? Nuh uh. I mean, I would – but he is like, and then there's the – FLUFFY! It's never going to happen."
"You two are denser than a black hole. JUST GET IT TOGETHER ALREADY!"
I stared at him. "What are you on? Because I told you, crack is not good for humans, or kittens."
"You. Can't. Be. This. Dense."
"Fluffy, I know I'm in love with him, but I'm not going to do anything about it alright? He doesn't need to have my feelings put on him like that; it's a burden, and I don't want to mess up with what we already have. It'd just be – be awkward, you know? And I don't want that. He and Sam – they're all I have. I'm not willing to fuck around with that."
"Fine. If you're going to be this stubborn, you leave me no choice."
"What are you –" and then he gave me the answer to my unasked question; he melted away. He was – he was gone?
'Not yet,' his voice in my head spoke up, and suddenly I found myself standing, and moving towards the motel door – and none of it was a consciously made decision by yours truly.
What the – what the hell are you doing Fluffy? You're in my head now? Are you – are you POSSESSING ME?
'I thought it was obvious. Now be quiet and enjoy the ride.'
The boys had opted to walk to the bar; it wasn't that far down the road, maybe a two minute drive, and considering how they liked to relax… it was probably safer for them to walk than to drive. In any case, they'd left the Impala in the car park, where Fluffy could easily get to it. Didn't they know better?!
I fought the kitten's total control on me as we locked the door to the motel, and walked over to Dean's baby. Whatever he was trying to do, a good end was not going to come of it.
Fluffy, get out of my head, right now. You can't possess me!
'Too late. We're going.'
Going? Going where?
'Going to the Impala, and then the bar.'
What? Inside my head I stilled, mind blanking. What are we going to the bar for?
'Think about it while we drive there,' he said, and the door to the Impala clicked open, and the engine started as he used magic on it.
Can both you and Dean hook up already? Can both you and Dean hook up already? Can both you and Dean hook up already? Fluffy's words before he possessed me started spiralling around in my head as he drove down the street. Oh no, oh no. He couldn't. He wouldn't.
FLUFFY! my mind screamed. No, no, no, no, NO! NO! You can't!
'Oh good, you realized. Saves me the trouble of explaining.'
My head still screaming, cussing, and pleading with him, we pulled up outside the bar the boys had gone to, and got out, Fluffy carefully locking the Impala behind him again. He seems to share Dean's love of it, and so didn't want it to get jacked.
Thank god for small mercies… if Dean didn't murder me for what Fluffy was about to make me do, well, he'd have cracked at the loss of his baby.
Please don't do this, I begged. You don't have to stick around for the consequences – I do!
'What if the consequences were fun to live with?'
Yeah, uh huh, mmmmmhm. Likely. Because he's not going to strangle me, at all. No, he's just going to accept it – oh, wait, no – he's going to reciprocate. Right.
'That's exactly what he's going to do. Now just enjoy.'
Sam was sitting at a table near the dartboard, where Dean was aiming, while simultaneously drinking his beer. Sam's was light, and he just had the one beer, according to the bottles on the table. Dean's wasn't – and he'd had two already. Dean still hit a bullseye.
Fluffy – as me – walked right up to him, smiling. Oh, please, please don't Fluffy. I'll give you anything! I have breath mints in my pocket? I have forty two dollars and fifty five cents? Just don't –
"Lauren!" Sam greeted me cheerfully. "What are you doing here?"
And then he found out. As Dean turned around to say 'howdy' himself, Fluffy grabbed his face and planted my mouth on his.
I'm going to kill you, was my last thought, before I melted, Fluffy making me lean even closer, press my lips harder against Dean's.
And then Dean's hands were on me. And he was kissing me back.
And Fluffy was gone.
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"Have you found it yet?" Dean whispered, keeping an eye out for the poltergeist that had trapped us in the basement of the house we were trying to free. It had already tried to kill the children who lived here, twice, and now they were huddled in a corner with Sam, trying not to cry, and comforting each other.
"I'm not a miracle worker! Dean, this book is in Latin, I have to translate the titles as I go, and it's not easy! Give me a little time, here!"
"We don't have time –"
"I know that as well as you do!"
"Guys, shut up! Lauren, keep looking!"
This conversation has a really strange feeling of deja vu about it…
Sam, covering the children, shot us both a glare, then went back to sweeping the room with the barrel of his sawn-off shot gun. Eric and Lucinda stared at Dean in me in fear, then went back to holding each other, hiding their heads in each others shoulders. They were brother and sister, and the poltergeist was after them because their ancestors had killed her. She was a maid, or something. Cremated – and we hadn't been able to find any other way to get rid of her, than to summon something from my spell book.
And then I found the spell.
"Here!" I yelled, standing up just as the poltergeist flew in through the wall, and its presence made the air all around us dark and dead and heavy with pain and rage. Book suddenly growing heavier in my hands, I read the incantation: "Voco iam lepus bestia everto ut evinco is phasmatis!" I shouted, and the now familiar feeling of magic spread over me. The poltergeist disappeared.
I smiled, a sense of accomplishment settling over me, and turned around to give Dean our ritual, post-hunt, we're-still-breathing kiss, when I saw him, Sam, Eric and Lucinda staring at my feet.
I looked down, and melted.
Picking up the small, soft white body in my hand, I looked at Dean, and holding the rabbit in my hands, asked, "Dean, can we keep it?"
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AN: Tell me what you think. I beg of you. Because I want to know what you guys think, really. Lol.