AN: This fic was a random plot bunny that came to me on the way home from work. The event in this fic is actually coming to town here and I immediately said. "You know Dean would love to go to this!" I tweeted about it and a plot bunny was born! It consumed me. I've been working on this fic for the last five hours, determined to finish it tonight. Warning! It is unbeta'ed. My wonderful beta is in class right now and I would be hard pressed to bother her during her busy busy day. Plus, it'll be a nice surprise for her when she gets home tonight. :) Love you, Zara_Zee! Okay, on with the show!
Disclaimer: Do you know...I actually forgot to put this on my last chapter? Bad, bad fanfic writer!
Sam woke abruptly when the car slowed and came to a stop. He pulled himself up in the seat, yawned, stretched and glanced around to try and get his bearings.
"Dean? Where are we? This isn't Dubuque."
"How can you tell?"
Bobby had cottoned onto a vengeful spirit in a postal office one state over in Dubuque, Iowa. A dead postal worker going postal on his former co-workers. It was a small job, but it was a small drive, so neither of the boys minded handling it. But this was definitely not Dubuque. For one, the terrain was too flat. And another, they were currently stopped at a traffic light beside a sign that read, University of Northern Iowa, Cedar Falls.
"The sign is a bit of a giveaway. What are we doing here, Dean?"
"For a once in a lifetime opportunity there, Sammy! Heard about it on the radio."
"What is it?"
"Can't tell ya. It's a surprise."
"Do we have to play this game, Dean? Really? We're suppose to be in Dubuque by nightfall."
"Not gonna happen, Sammy. We're goin' and you're gonna love it."
"Famous last words."
Dean continued down the road, finally making a left hand turn and pulling into a parking lot behind a dozen other vehicles. He slipped into a parking space and then climbed out of the car, making sure to lock the beautiful Impala; can't be too careful in a college town.
"You be a good girl," he whispered, lovingly patting the warm hood.
"Ready for what?" Sam tried again.
"Patience, little brother. Let's go."
They walked across the rapidly filling parking lot toward the double door entrance and once again, Dean took out his wallet.
"You're buying? Okay, if I wasn't nervous before I am now."
"Don't be such a girl, Sam. It was my idea, I'm flippin' the bill. Don't make a big deal out of it."
Dean grabbed the door, holding it open for Sam, but the younger Winchester leveled him with another suspicious look and then reached to pull the opposite door open for himself.
It was a small venue, but the crowd of people surging in and raucous atmosphere, gave the place a rock show vibe. Dean returned from the ticket window, waving two tickets happily and pulling them out of Sam's reach before he could get his hands on them.
"We got floor man! I had to sweet talk the ticket girl, but we're ring side."
He clapped Sam roughly on the back and then dove into the crowd, making his way toward the door leading down to the floor. Shaking his head, Sam jogged to catch up.
Sam fought his way through the people to keep up with his overly excited brother. Dean flashed their tickets to a big guy standing at the roped off section of the club and they were allowed access down onto the floor and were pointed up a long aisle toward center stage.
"What is this? Boxing?" Sam hollered over the din. He stopped for a moment to study the ring, taking in the ropes and turnbuckles, realizing that it wasn't boxing. "Wrestling?"
"Not just any wrestling, Sam." Dean pulled up to a stop and pointed to two front row seats, sitting behind and just to the left of an announcers booth. "Champion Midget Wrestling! Midgets, Sammy! Midgets."
Sam slid down into his seat with a groan.
"Yea! Hit him! Beat that little Toad into submission!" Dean was standing, leaning way over metal rail separating them from the ring, slinging obscenities and prejudiced comments at the stage and loving every minute of it.
"Dean," Sam chastised, pulling at Dean's sleeve.
"What? That's his name! Come on, Sam. You gotta let loose a little, man. Look, that one's got himself a little midget cheerleader. Maybe we can get you a date for later," he said with a grin before turning back to the ring and continued to shout at the pint sized wrestlers.
Sam made a conscious effort to enjoy himself and was getting into the action, choosing his favorite and cheering them on. He was so wrapped up in the climax of the match, that he failed to notice that the little blonde ringside escort had made her way around to their side of the ring.
Dean, however, did notice her. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called to her.
"Hey, hot stuff! You're just the right height. What's it take to get a blow job?"
The woman stopped and turned to look directly at the Winchesters, a look of pure rage. Dean's eyes widened in surprise. Without thinking, he lifted his hand to point nervously at his brother.
But Sam wasn't paying attention. He'd gotten caught up in the end of the match and was mentally blocking out Dean's obnoxious behavior. So he was more than a little surprised when the blonde climbed into the ring, pulled the announcer down to her level and pointed a finger out into the audience; directly at Sam.
Sam leaned back into his seat, not understanding why he was being singled out, but feeling suddenly very nervous. He glanced to his right at Dean only to find Dean purposefully avoiding his gaze.
"What did you do?" Sam growled.
But before Dean could answer, the ring announcer brought a microphone up to his mouth and asked for the audience's attention.
"Ladies and gentlemen, I am happy to announce that we have a special treat for you. Ms. Mini would like to issue a challenge to a member of our audience."
Ms. Mini reached up, took the announcer's sleeve and pulled his hand down to her, snatching the microphone out of his hand. She walked up to the edge of the ring, leaning out over the rope and pointed once again at Sam.
"You! Big man with the Big mouth! Get your gargantuan ass up here!"
Sam's eyes got real wide and subconsciously he reached out for his brother, but Dean was quick to shove his hands away. He pushed Sam forward and off the edge of his chair. Sam had no other choice but to stand, shaking his head adamantly; a slur of 'no, no, no, no' pouring from his mouth.
"S'matter, Giagantor? You afraid of getting your ass handed to you buy a woman?"
"N-no," Sam stammered.
"Oh, so it's my size then. Well, believe me, asshole, this little woman's gonna kick your ass into next week! One way or another."
Dean shoved him ahead again, Sam swatting backward at him.
"Friggin' knock it off, Dean," Sam hissed over his shoulder. "I know this is your fault."
"Maybe, but you can't back out now. You don't wanna look like a pussy in front of all these people. Get up there, man. I'll cheer you on…from here."
Sam turned back to look at the angry little gal leaning out of the ring and was surprised to find himself facing two of the fiercer CMW wrestlers, their arms crossed angrily over wide chests.
"I suggest you get your ass up there, 'fore we have to drag you by your long, pretty hair."
Twelve minutes later and Sam was lying on his back, counting lights and slapping his hand against the mat, praying to God and Castiel for an end to the violence and the punishment rained down upon by this little three foot, four inch blonde fireball.
He'd spent the first few minutes trying to out run her in the ring, but finally submitted to the action when the audience roared their disapproval. Sam hazarded a look and found his brother shouting him down as well, the traitor.
But that moment of inattention was all Ms. Mini needed. She crooked her arm and brought a small fist up solidly into Sam's groin.
His eyes crossed and he sank to his knees, he hands cupped protectively over what he was sure was only one remaining testicle. All motion slowed and the only sound Sam could hear was the frantic pounding of his own heart.
Ms. Mini reached up, because after all, even on his knees, Sam was still nearly a foot taller than her. She reached up and fisted her hand in the long locks hanging in his face. She sized him up for a moment and then brought a severe right fist up underneath his chin, knocking his jaws together painfully, toppling him over backward to sprawl out over the mat.
In his seat, Dean cringed at the sight of Sam going down. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that he was in so much trouble, but at this moment, he couldn't be bothered to care. As painful as it was to watch Sam get his ass handed to him, he just couldn't turn away, because Ms. Mini was awesome!
"Sweep her legs!" he shouted at his brother, but it was too late.
The tiny little woman stood, straddled over Sam's prone body, setting a heeled boot over each of his wrists, pinning his hands to the mat. Through tears and crossed eyes, Sam stared up in terror, recognizing her intentions the split second before she acted.
With a raging scream, Ms. Mini dropped, slamming all of her small stature into Sam's solar plexus, taking his wind and making him choke on his own tongue as he fought for breath. She stood and repeated the action two, three, and four times, finally taking a moment to face the crowd and a loud round of applause.
Dean cheered, leaning over the barricade, slapping the metal in approval. Ms. Mini narrowed her eyes at him and lifted her hand to flip him the bird, catching Dean by surprise. He quickly sat down, trying to sink into himself.
Ms. Mini spun back around, circling her prey who could do no better than to roll on the floor in pain. She grabbed Sam by the wrist, stepped over his arm, crossing her legs at the ankles and then threw herself onto the mat, ratcheting Sam's arm at the shoulder. She rocked all her weight against him arm, making his cry out in pain. He fought it off for as long as he could, but eventually Sam had to succumb to the ball joint of his shoulder that was screaming for mercy. He lifted his right hand and slammed it against the canvas mat, tapping out of the match. The crowd roared as Ms. Mini stood, raising her fists high into the air while she took her lap triumphantly around the ring.
Sam was helped up and out of the ring by the same two wrestlers that had escorted him there in the first place, but on his trip out of the ring, both men were comforting him with words of reassurance and encouragement. With a pat on the back, they deposited him back in the waiting hands of his brother.
"That was awesome! Wasn't that awesome?"
Dean settled Sam into the front seat of the Impala, making sure all limbs were inside the car before shut the door. He ran around to the other side and jumped into the driver's seat.
"Don't be that way, Sammy. That was the best night I've had in….God, I don't even know how long."
"You got me thrown in the ring with Mini Godzilla! It was Hell, Dean. Those few minutes seemed like months and all of it was excruciating. I hope you're proud of yourself." Sam wiped at the inside of his mouth, pulling the towel away bloody. "Did I lose a tooth?"
Dean tilted Sam's face toward him, pulling his brother's jaw open to get a better look. "Nope," he dismissed.
"Remind me to never again follow along on one of your hair-brained plans."
Sam sunk into the seat, his head coming to rest heavily on the back of the seat.
"Hey, cheer up. It's not all bad."
"Oh yea? Why's that?"
"Cuz. Ms. Mini gave you her number. You might get a blow job out of this yet," he finished with a big goofy grin.
"You're a jerk, Dean."