Title: Bedazzled
Author: ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif)
sanguinepenMovie Adapted: BedazzledGenre: Gen
Characters/Pairings: Sam, Dean
Rating: R (just in case)
Scene: 1/8
Word Count: 1384
Warnings: Dean swears - a lot - and there'll probably be some sex at some point.
Notes/Credits: Takes place 10 days after Dean's year is up.
Created for ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/community.gif)
reel_spnDisclaimer: No copyright infringement intended; fair use only. Not created for profit.
His hands were shaking as he tipped the pitcher of beer to its side, his eyes blinking as he tried to focus on getting the last dregs of the cheap draft into his mug. Sam drew a deep breath and slumped across the beer stained table like a worn out bar rag.
“Dammit Dean,” Sam choked back a burp that smelled bad even to him. “I need you. I can’t do this without you.”
“Course you can’t Sammy,” the familiar voice of his brother rang in his ear.
Sam batted at the touch of cold breath on his ear. “You’re not here. You’re dead. Go away.”
The chair across from him scrapped and Sam saw someone straddle the back of it after flipping it around. “You need to make up your mind little brother. Do you want me here or not?”
“Dean?” Sam wiped his running noise and eyes with the back of his sleeve. He wanted to sit up and look at Dean, but he was just too drunk to manage it. “You’re dead. It’s been 375 days, remember?”
“Oh I remember,” Dean chuckled darkly as he got back up from the chair, his long legs encased in supple black suede pants. “Trust me, when they drag you down to Hell kicking and screamin’ you don’t forget.” Dean grabbed Sam’s collar and pulled his little brother until he was upright in the chair. With a flick of his finger the beer pitcher refilled before Sam’s bleary bloodshot eyes. Dean frowned at the dirty crust at the bottom of Sam’s mug, then shrugged as he filled it with the fresh brew. “Here have a drink on me.”
Sam took the mug from Dean. His eyes locked to Dean’s fingers as they brushed against his hand. They were warm and dry. They didn’t feel at all like they did when Dean slipped into the cold oblivion of death just ten days before. “I blew it Dean. I couldn’t save you. I’m sorry.”
“Hell, don’t be sorry, Sam. It’s not so bad really,” Dean cast a cocky smile at his little brother as a bottle of Jack Daniels appeared at the table next to a clean shot glass. Dean filled the glass without spilling a drop and tossed back the shot before filling it back up. “I got a pretty cushy gig. You see, Sam, the Devil. She likes me. She always has. Gave me a sweet little job, and I’ve even got a corner office with a window. And the girls, damn Sammy, the girls are incredible.”
“But, but,” Sam stammered as Dean once again pushed the mug of cold beer into his hand. “I thought you’d be…”
“What in chains? Bein’ punished for killing all those monsters? Hell, the way she sees it I was just culling the failures. The Devil isn’t too fond of failures, Sam. That’s why she wanted me.” Dean leaned across the back of the chair he was straddling and whispered to Sam. “She wasn’t too happy with Ole Yellow Eyes either. She wanted him to take me, not you. But he was afraid I’d kill him. Guess he was right, huh?” Dean let out a laugh that was answered by a clap of thunder that shook the old roadhouse.
“But what about dad?” Sam took a small sip of the beer, and then tanked it down like it was mother’s milk. It was frosty, and just perfect. It might have been the best beer he’d ever tasted. “Where’s dad?”
“Dad? Well truth be told, she ain’t so fond of him. But I’m not here about dad, Sammy boy. I’m here about you.” Dean leaned back and stretched out his legs. His dark eyes scanned the crowd of has-beens and never-weres that filled the drab place. “Shit Sammy, leave it to you to get hammered in a pit like this. There isn’t a single girl in here well that doesn’t have a hairier face than you do.”
“Nice, Dean, very nice.” Sam pulled himself up straighter and raked his fingers through the unruly mop of his hair. “I didn’t come here to get laid. I came here to forget.”
“How’s that workin’ for you?”
“Not so good, although my hallucination is apparently buying me much better beer than I can afford.”
“Oh you think you’re imagining me then?” Dean smiled eyes sparkling. “Let’s go test that theory college boy.”
Sam just arched his eyebrows in response.
Dean suddenly appeared at Sam’s side and yanked the keys to the Impala out of his brother’s pocket. “If I’m a hallucination, I won’t be able to drive MY car. And don’t be so suspicious.”
“Dean you just told me you work for the Devil and the Devil’s a woman. Why wouldn’t I be suspicious?”
“Ah there you are. There’s my little paranoid brother. She’s not just a woman, Sam, she’s gorgeous, long legs, long dark hair and the brightest blue eyes, cute little British accent too.”
“So you’re her errand boy now? What does she want?”
“She wants me to help you, Sammy. She wants to give you seven wishes.”
“Seven? What happened to three?”
“I talked her into seven, like I said she likes me.” Dean pulled on Sam’s arm, and started to lead his taller brother out of the bar. “She gave you four extra. Now what do you want to wish for first?”
“I don’t know, Dean. I’m not sure this is a good idea. The Devil never gives anything away for free.”
“Well no, she doesn’t, but what harm would it be for you to use up one of those wishes?” Dean sniffed at Sam’s sweat stained clothes and wrinkled his nose. “Now if I was you, I’d use one of those wishes for a hot shower and a change of clothes.”
“Fine, Dean,” Sam yanked his arm free of Dean’s grip, failing against the fender of the Impala. “I wish I had a hot shower and some clean clothes. There! Happy!”
“Your wish is my command, little brother. Get in, and roll down the window. You fucking stink.” Dean climbed into the driver’s seat. He ran his hands over the steering wheel like he was caressing a lover, no not caressing, worshipping a goddess. As he rolled down the window, the dirt and grime that had built up on the car, almost as badly as it had on Sam, shimmered away until she was a sleek black predator once again.
Dean gunned the engine and flipped the car around in a 180 degree turn taking the narrow country road at over 100 miles per hour. He gazed in the rear view mirror as they passed a police cruiser and just smiled as the car picked up even more speed leaving a wake in the asphalt behind them like he was driving over black water.
Dean’s smile broadened as he came to a sudden stop in front of a motel. Sam looked up and read the sign over the parking lot, Motel 666. Dean waited for Sam to climb out of the car, and walked to the manager’s office. “I need a room, with two beds and a shower.”
“How long do you want it?” The wizened creature at the desk asked.
“A few days.” Dean leaned against the desk and buffed his nails against the soft gray chambray shirt he was wearing. “Well pay the man, Sammy.”
“Pay him? I thought this was my wish? Shouldn’t you be paying for it?”
“Uh nope,” Dean held his empty hands out. “You didn’t wish for the money to buy a shower and clothes. You just wished for a hot shower. You have to pay for it. Wishes are particular like that. You’ll need to be real careful with the other six.”
“Six?” Sam grumbled as he pulled a pair of wrinkled bills out of his jean’s pocket. “I thought I had seven.”
“You used one, now you’ve got six left. You go take your shower, and I’ll go get you some clothes. Then you can tell me your next wish.” Dean patted Sam on the back and then folded in on himself like he was made of paper until he was gone.
“Here’s your key, kid,” the thing said as it slid the key to number 13 across the desk.
crappy
hopeful
drunk
confused
devious
angry
tired
flirty