A/N: I do not own Supernatural or the character Jennifer (I liberated her and subsequently the fine-as-fuck Megan Fox from the movie Jennifer's Body for the mildest crossover buzz, like, ever) I only own the twist to this martini and like James Bond I like it shaken not stirred, so be prepared for me to shake you up. Not full X-Over cuz I'm simply plucking Jenny out of her own story and dropping her in the Brother Winchester's. I'm excited about this one guys, are you? Any thoughts, suggestions, and wishful thinking are eagerly awaited and much appreciated. I'd be much obliged if you'd share your deepest and darkest with me here.
Sam and Dean drove in silence, on their way to Wichita. Sam tried to forget the sick feeling, like a tidal wave of nausea and a net of knots in his stomach. He fucking hated Kansas.
"I can't wait until we're not in Kansas anymore," he sigh, defeated, much like a child surrendering to a spoonful of rather nasty medicine.
"Who are you. .. Dorothy?" Dean teased, reaching across to prod his younger brother playfully. Sam was not in the mood to be messed with right now, and he swatted Dean's arm away angrily.
"If you go anywheres near Lawrence I'll literally paint the inside of this Impala with puke," Sam sneered over to his elder sibling, brooding in his hunkered down sulk by the door.
"Okay, Sammy, I get it. No detours." Dean could understand why Sam hated their hometown so much. Sam never really fit in there and all it had to offer him were bad memories and the remnants of the smell of smoke, from when their childhood innocence had quite literally gone up in smoke. Even though Dean had managed to steady his wings through all the turbulence, he understood at least this much; but still Sam's differences put a prickle in his spine too. There was just sometimes a hinky sorta atmosphere around him that made him seem like he was from a different planet or something, but he was his brother and he loved him. He would live and die for him cuz that's what families are supposed to do. Dean was there to protect him ever since he got appointed to when he was just four years old. Dean decided he'd try to distract him by going over the plan to kill something.
"Right. . . So, how exactly are we sure that there's an Incubus in town, anyway?" He squeezed the wheel a little tighter, watching the pavement roll out like a black carpet beneath the highbeams.
Sam checked his attitude and readjusted to business as usual. He opened the manilla folder on his lap and began shuffling through the paperwork he'd printed out from the library in Seattle, "Well let's see. . . First there are a few police reports about a series of rapes that took place in the surrounding towns-"
Dean interrupted, "-Well, that's awful tragic, Sam, really, I mean- I definitely feel bad about what happened to those girls, but what's so special about police reports detailing the way some guys just can't take no for an answer?"
"For one thing, none of them remember," Sam was starting to get a little frustrated with the flack he was getting back when he'd begrudgingly dragged his carcass back to fucking Kansas because it was the right thing to do.
"Ok, so the particular M.O. of this dude is 'caveman style', gives 'em a conk on the head and drags 'em off to a cave somewhere-"
"Then a bunch of these girls go to the doctor's saying they feel weak and they're sleeping way too much, then boom, outbreak of teen pregnancies- Wichita," Sam concluded as-a-matter-of-factly.
"Great, so these girls got a little hot and heavy with their boyfriends after homecoming, didn't know how to break it to their parents, so they give 'em the ol' devil made me do it schpeel," Dean countered, speeding up to sixty-five when he noticed that there was in fact no patrol car behind the "Welcome to Wichita" sign.
"Look, Dean, I'm not gonna fight with you about whether or not there's an Incubus knocking up a bunch of teenage girls in a state that I have no interest in being in a five hundred mile radius of. You think I give a shit? Cuz I don't. I told you about all this, cuz coming here and dispatching that thing is what we do, but if you're just gonna poke holes in all the info gathering I've been losing sleep over, then be my guest, and I'd be goddamn grateful to you- to turn this damn car around and get me the fuck out of here!" Sam's voice shook angrily underneath the frustrated boom of its upset.
Dean took his eyes off the road and looked at Sam at first in surprise, then he felt bad for pushing his buttons; he put his hand across the gap and onto Sam's shoulder to steady his brother's shaking. He cleared his throat, "Easy Bruce Banner, don't Hulk out on me. . . I'm sorry, alright? It's not that I don't believe you or that I wanna make this harder for you or whatever. . . It's just- well, we've had a couple of close calls in the eyes of the law, I just. . . I just wanna be sure. I'm being pragmatic, ok?"
Sam followed suit, clearing his own throat, and with his faraway look out the window, he ran his hand over his face to put his game-face back on, with a cough he replied lowly, "Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm sorry too."
"So, how can we be so sure?" Dean responded, treading lightly in light of his siblings sore mood.
"Uh, I-I dunno, Dean. I just. . . nevermind-" Sam didn't wanna say it. He already felt tense enough around Dean. Already so. . . different. He didn't want anymore reasons for Dean to look at him through a microscope. And honestly, sometimes honestly was not the best policy when it came to this family.
"No, tell me. You can tell me anything, Sammy, you know that," Dean reassured him, giving him a pat on the back and a gleaming smile.
"Yeah right," Sam said to himself under his breath, twiddling his thumbs in his lap.
"What was that?" Dean asked, tilting his head in Sam's direction to hear him a little better.
Sam coughed nervously, "What? Nothing. Uh, I just- this is gonna sound stupid," he finished with a gentle humorless laugh that was on the behalf of the restless butterflies in his stomach.
"I'm sure it's not stupid, Sam, c'mon try me."
"Well, uh. . . when I read the police reports, I just kinda. . . I dunno, I just kinda got this vibe that something was. . . shit, that something was off, Dean," Sam finally got out.
"A vibe huh? What-What's that? Is it like a hunch for people that aren't normal?" Dean teased, but the line his lips made said something about the grain of truth to his words.
"Oh, just fucking forget it, Dean! God! Can't tell you anything without it turning into some big fat joke. . . Well fine, I surrender, ok, Dean? Just turn around, and pull over at the state line-" Sam snapped again. His temper was the flame and Dean's poor word choices were like squirts of gasoline. No matter how hard he tried, lately it was getting pretty damn difficult to control his anger.
"Jesus, Sammy, I was just kidding. . . Don't get your panties in a wad. Arright? Just. . Just calm down. This whole wondertwins thing you and me got going on lately is not going to work if you keep biting my damn head off every time I make a joke-"
"It's not funny, Dean," Sam retorted.
"Dually noted, but for now Sam, can you just chill out and keep your eyes on the prize? I'm not so great with the whole 'apology' thing, so I don't think it's gonna work out well if you don't get a break in your cycle and I have to keep doling out 'I'm sorrys' all the time," Dean chided him, trying to say something, anything that would pull the younger boy off the emotional razor's edge.
"A break in my cycle?-What the hell does that mean?" Sam pinpointed, his face contorting in confusion.
"It means you are hardcore PMSing, Sam, and have been for a while. So pop a Midol or stop bleeding, but if you decided not to crack a box of Tampax pearls, then I'm gonna take that as a sign you decided to sack up and get back to oh, I dunno-doing your job. Cuz frankly I can't always ask the monsters we're supposed to be ganking, 'hey, can you hold off on trying to kill us? Sam's having a moodswing right now and his cramps are somethin' awful.'," Dean bit back.
They both had a little bit of cabin fever right now, they'd been stuck in the car essentially straight through from Seattle to Wichita and there was sort of a lot of aftermath from the shitstorm that had been previously going on. Dean really couldn't blame Sam for not wanting to be in Kansas, but he had to give credit where credit was due, cuz Sam hadn't passed the buck on this case saying, 'some other hunter will get it, I'm sure', he swallowed his hatred and saddled up for the long ride to their homestate.
"PMSing? You motherfucker. Maybe I'm not the most pleasant person to tagteam with right now, and for that I'm truly sorry," although his sarcasm was evident, "but apparently you're either stoned, stupid, or you just weren't paying attention, cuz in case you hadn't noticed, I'm back, Dean, hunting. Exactly the game I was trying to get out of. Jess got killed, because of me. And I imagine that there's a note somewhere in my college transcript that says, 'if this kid ever wants to come to your school: burn it to the ground before you admit him, cuz he's the friggin' nutcase who got a free ride to Stanford and took a pass without saying a word'. What exactly have you lost, Dean? Riddle me that, you son of a bitch," Sam concluded his rant with a huff, then forcefully crossed his arms over his heaving chest, nostrils flaring, and he sank down further down by the door, gazing out the window wistfully.
Being as close as they were, having a brotherhood such as theirs. . . There really wasn't a lot that they couldn't say to each other, but contrary to popular belief about siblings, there actually is a line that comes before eventual disownership. Dean had a very strong feeling that if he continued to either instigate or participate in this conversation without diffusing, that he would eventually come to that line and feared that, much like running downhill, he would not be able to stop himself before crossing it. There was a hard silence in the car after that, and for a while both of them figured it was for the best that the other wasn't talking. They were afraid of what their brother would say, but they were more afraid of what they themselves would say. Things had been pretty heavy lately- a lot of hunting, no breaks. It seemed like there had been a pretty particular rise in demonic activity as opposed to other supernatural nasties that they usually fought. Not a good sign to say the least. Eventually after what was only about a half hour give or take, but what felt like FOREVER, to Dean, he took it upon himself to break the silence, knowing that Sam, in his anger, was one to let it ride.
Dean cleared his throat to get Sammy's attention, "Ya know, if I'm an SOB that means you are too. . ."
Sam laughed. . . "What?" His head snapped to the left to regard his brother and his confusingly delayed response.
"I said, If I'm an S.O.B-" Dean began to repeat, slower and more even-toned.
"No,-" Sam interrupted him, rising up from his sulking slump to a model of perfect posture, "I heard what you said. What the hell was that?" Sam started laughing at Dean.
Dean bristled a little bit, not appreciating having the tables turned, "Um, it's called a comeback, Sam."
Sam continued to shake and howl with laughter, his words turning into joyful music because of it, "What? Was it coming back from a POW camp? Cuz that took forever!"
"Ok, cut it out. I think I liked you better when you weren't talking to me."
"Shit, dude, it's called a quip. Not a slope. Wow. You must be on a serious tape delay." Sam had to hold his stomach as it began to burn from all the laughter.
"It's really not that funny," Dean grumbled, turning down a rather ominous looking dirt road. "'Kay, look lively there, Sam, we're 'bout here."
Sam's laughter dissipated almost instantly and he put on a straight face, every muscle tightening as they got closer to their destination. His fingers danced on the door handle, he itched to get out, to get the job gone so they could turn around. The car bounced as it took the sharp dip in the dirt drive and came back up over a mound to the rotary in front of the old abandon Victorian that Sam had gotten an address for off the internet.
The tired crept to a slow halt over the gritty sands beneath the stippled tires. Dean's fingers danced over the leather wheel, then tightened. He ducked his head, looking out the windshield over the wheel, squinting hard at the ramshackle structure before them.
"Are you sure this is the right spot, Sammy?" Dean asked uneasily, killing the lights.
"Uh, yeah, a few of the pregnant girls gave up the info that they used to party here. It's been abandon since '89, but it's a landmark so developers can't touch it," Sam educated him.
"Huh. . . An old busted up Victorian where teenagers come for a little late night drug abuse and heavy petting. Sounds like an Incubus' wet dream. Literally. . .Let's go-" Dean pumped the handle on his door and quickly swung himself out of the car, taking a moment to revel in how good it felt (for once) to be on his feet. He put his hands on the hood and playfully hugged his Impala, "Baby, I love you, but you're getting to be a pain in the ass what with all the riding around we've been doing."
Sam just stood on the other side of the Impala, shaking his head with a faint smile at his brother's antics, he swung the door shut and went to the trunk, popping it open and lifting the false bottom to access their arsenal.
As Sam and Dean were gearing up to get ghostbusters all over this mother, Sam caught a glimpse of something around the back. When the warm breeze picked up with a quick huff, Sam caught off the very corner of his periphery a taupe car cover buffeting out as the wind skirted the edge and climbed underneath.
He elbowed his brother in the ribs, tossing his shotgun full of rock salt out in front of him and catching the pump gauge, the force of his throw and catch pushing the slide and filtering one of the shells in line to be fired, "Dean, what's that?"
Dean closed the lid of the trunk very gently so as not to make a noise and adopted an expression similar to a dog's when it heard a noise outside. He panned the land, but didn't see what Sam saw. "What, Sam?"
"Over there-Nevermind, I'll check it out," Sam brushed dismissively, bringing the pistol grip up level, and gazing down the barrel he gingerly sidestepped so that he could go check it out. "It's a car under a cover!" He whispered loudly back to Dean, who was still squinting over in that direction. "You think it's another hunter?" He said back, dropping the gun's barrel down to the ground.
"Nah, why would it be? You know any hunters that would take a pass on a quick get away by using an inconvenient car cover?" Dean rationalized, walking to the halfway point between the front door and Sam's location.
Sam shrugged, "Yeah, I guess. . . You got a point."
"Of course I do," Dean pumped himself up as he approached the door.
"I'mma stay and do some recon, this still strikes me as a little hokey. You go ahead, I'll meet you inside," Sam called over, circling the car, a look on his face that no words could voice.
Jennifer stood at the top of the stairs, crossbow aimed, flashlight fixed to the bottom of it. Her turn down the hall was quick, like she expected something to be right there, her breath had already caught, but she let it go when there was nothing. She went down the dark hallway, towards a cracked door that had the faintest light pouring out of it. She reached out and flicked the flashlight off, stepping quietly and decisively towards the door. "Shit!" She exclaimed quitely to herself as her boot made one of the floorboards groan, but she continued on. When she got to the door and pushed it open, surprised that that made no noise, and she saw exactly what she'd expected, There was a girl asleep on a fainting couch shrouded in a white sheet, candles everywhere, and the girl had an empty vodka bottle in her hand, which drooped down to the floor. Also, there was a very attractive man hovering over the top of her, closing in.
"Hey!" Jennifer called to him, fixing him as the target of her arrow.
The thing looked at her, it's eyes changing, irises turning pitch, looking like shark's eyes. Opening it's jaws it's teeth also changed, every last one pointing, it half-hissed half-screamed at her, effectively waking up the girl beneath him. Her face was instantly horrified and she let out a loud scream. A set of rubbery wings, like a gray bat with claws or something dipping the points, burst out of its back and it's skin went pale; its illusion disappeared as it was revealed. No longer was it an attractive young man, but a terrifying monster. It reached out and closed its talon tipped fingers around the girls throat, efficiently cutting off her wail.
"Let her go, you horny devil-" Jennifer demanded, an unsettling smile on her face.
The incubus screeched at her and started to lift the girl, then changed its mind and pushed her off the edge of the couch, beating its wings and rising into the air to try to escape, like it knew something the girls didn't.
Jen squeezed the trigger and put one through the demon's wing. It roared in pain, beating its unscathed appendage just to stay afloat in the air.
Jen pulled an arrow from the plastic quiver on her back and before drawing it into position, she looked at the girl at her feet frozen with fear, stupidly looking back and forth between the monster and her savior. "Run. Now," Jen stated devoid of anything but authority.
The poor girl took her up on her suggestion and booked it out of the room.
Jennifer fixed the arrow and raised the bow to peg its other wing, when out of nowhere and darkness something hit her from behind, body checking her hard. With an 'Oof' her body lurched sideways, she felt someone's arms close around her waist and her side crash into the musty wall. She heard and felt the dry wall crack, and she was forced to drop her crossbow.
The pinned incubus took this distraction as an opportunity to get away and pulled the unbarbed arrow out of its wing, and with a few hard flaps, managed to use the huge hole in the ceiling that the moonlight poured through as an escape hatch.
Now Jen found herself at odds with a new enemy that the sudden acquision of still gave her brain trouble when she tried to focus. No matter, she'd still kick its ass.
She pushed their shoulders, managing to get enough of an arm's length between herself and them to jump up and raise her foot, placing her boot square above the shiny belt-buckle, then repelling herself off, forcing the both of them unforgivingly into opposite walls. Jen recovered a bit more quickly, then she advanced, delivering another hit to the assailant's torso, they lashed back quickly, giving her a hard head-turner across her right cheekbone.
Dean coughed, his wind leaving him sharply as he took a punch to the solar plexus. "Holy shit. . ." he wheezed, doubling over, putting his hand out in surrender, "Truce, truce, truce. . ."
"Uh, no-" Jen rebuffed him, kicking him in the shin.
"Ow!" Dean hollered, dropping down for a fraction of a second, throwing his arms out to give his attacker a shove.
Sam was at the front door, looking around the foyer to find Dean, outside, he'd passed a hysterically crying girl, but he couldn't stop and talk to her, he heard Dean yell in pain and he rushed inside to find where he'd gotten to and help him. With a few more crashes of bodies being thrown into things and the slam-banging of a scuffle, Sam leapt up the stairs, taking two at a time to come to his brother's aid.
When she advanced on him again, Dean took her about the shoulders and spun her around, pressing her to the wall. Now he finally had the fraction of a second that it would take him to analyze her and the situation, gauge whether or not she was a real threat, and realize that she was in fact a she and he wasn't exactly down with violence against women.
Dean exhaled hard, holding her between him and the wall, breathlessly he said to her, "Hey, hold on a second, honey. . . Jeez, I thought you were. . . something else. I didn't mean to jump you like that. I ain't tryin' to fight a girl."
"Really?" Jen countered, shrugging his grip from her shoulders, taking in his look of sheer shock as she pushed him away from her. He definitely though there had been a spark between them as their chests heaved together at that high stakes moment of whirling confusion. "Cuz you hit like a bitch," She concluded, reveling in his offended visage. She faked left and then uppercut him as he attempted to block left.
'But she doesn't' Dean thought, his teeth rattling with the heavy hit, he felt like one of those cartoons, when their eyes spin, the force of her blow almost took his feet out from under him- lifting him off his toes, leaving him teetering on the balls. His eyes remained comically cross0-eyed for a beat as he tried to recover from it.
"Dean!" Sam yelled, bursting through the door, then freezing in his footsteps as he took in the sight of Dean throwing up in arms in a X-block and flinching hard, and the girl looked over her shoulder at Sam.
"She's evil, Sam! Get her!" Dean yelled, not wanting to be the one to hit the pretty girl cuz hurting her would hurt his chances of getting laid.
"That true?" Sam asked, ducking his head so he was looking up at her.
"I'm not evil, I'm pissed off!" Jen gritted out, her back turned to Dean as she regaurded Sam. She had her hands raised up and her sides, surrendered under the barrel of Sam's shotgun, still Dean rushed up behind her, grabbing her wrists, forcing her to cross her arms over her chest as he held her in place.
He whispered hotly in her ear, "We'll be the judge of that, you're gonna have to take a few tests for us, sweetie."
"I don't gotta do a goddamn thing," Jennifer whispered back, rolling her hips against his tauntingly, then she brought her head forward and back hard, splitting Dean's lip with the back of her skull.
Dean threw his hands up and let out a howl, he fell hard to the ground, shaking the floor when the sheer bulk of him hit. It was just a shame nobody yelled 'timber'.
Sam lunged forward and tackled Jennifer to the ground, hesitating only for a second because she was so beautiful. Dropping his gun in the process, he didn't really wanna hurt her, just neutralize her. He pinned her to the ground with her arms above her head.
He called back without looking back to his brother, who was still on his back, rolling dramatically with the pain, "You arright, Dean?"
"I dunno, maybe-" He replied, picking himself up. "If you're not evil why'd just you do that?" He angrily shot at the hot, but mean bitch under Sam, kicking her boot with his. She tried to kick back, struggling underneath Sam, but he straddled her, pinning her legs.
"He jumped me, self-defense," She shrugged, bosom heaving very distractingly just underneath Sam.
"I said truce," Dean bristled back, frowned, harboring a momentary grudge.
"Ugh, sorry," Jennifer groaned rather insincerely, "Adrenaline, dude. Look, I won't hit either of you-" She focused her gaze on Dean, "though you did deserve it, for all I knew you were evil, letting that incubus get away like you did."
Sam tore his eyes off the gorgeous girl writhing to get up underneath him, and he stared at Dean in disbelieve, "You attacked her instead of it and you let him get away?" He nodded, understanding what Jen meant at this point.
Dean's face kinda melted in response and he pursed his lips, pointing his finger at Jen for a second before he let it drop, "Okay, I did, but I didn't mean to, I didn't think anyone else would be hunting here."
Sam took his hands off Jennifer's wrists and rose up off his knees, once on his feet he extended his hand down to help her up. She took it and in a flash had bobbed herself up next to him.
"At least one of you boys knows how to treat a lady," Jen smirked, looking gratefully up at Sam.
Dean groaned, "Can we just put this whole thing behind us?"
Jen rolled her eyes, but nodded her downcast head.
"Yeah, sorry about that. I'm Sam. Sam Winchester-" the brunette introduced himself, extending his hand to the dark-haired beauty next to him.
"Jennifer Check," she returned, taking his hand.
"I'm Dean," the dishwater blonde threw gruffly, sticking his arm out in a very manly way.
Despite their rather awkward meeting, Jennifer shook his hand as well.
"By way of apology would you be willing to accept a breakfast invitation?" Dean tried to be smooth after their rather unsmooth first encounter.
She turned to Sam, "You gonna be there?"
Sam raised an eyebrow. Girls that Dean hit on usually couldn't wait to ditch him. "Uh, yeah, I can. . ." he replied slowly.
"Great," Jennifer gave one quick nod before walking out the door ahead of them.
Both boys were hypnotized by the sway of her hips upon her exit. Dean gave Sam a shove in the ribs with his forearm, "Dibs dude, eyes off, I saw her first."