Like Us Universe Valentine's Day one shot! Warning!!! Don't leave Dean Winchester alone with chocolate! Much Love!


Hung For A Lamb, Hang For A Sheep

"My mother said if ye must be hung for a lamb, then hang for a sheep!"

-Frank McCourt

Greer Wounded Heart Ranch; Tuscarora, Nevada

February 14th

The eldest Winchester sighed, hesitating before pulling open the screen door to stretch his arms as high above his head as he could. He linked his fingers together and curved his back until he felt the muscles stretch. Dean dropped back to his heels, stripped off the leather gloves he'd been working in and stepped through the screen door into the Greer kitchen. He stopped in the doorway, his eyes going straight for the display on the table and he absently dropped the gloves on the counter top.

Dean patted his shirt once; coughing on the small puff of dust it produced and clouded in his face. He dusted his hands off on the hips of his jeans and ran a hand through his hair. Every move he made his dark green eyes were flicking around the room, looking to see if he was alone.

The elder Winchester, sure that the kitchen and house itself was probably empty, strolled innocently over to the scarred wooden table and delicately rooted around in a large ceramic bowl displayed in the center. Filled to the brim with assorted candies and small hard chocolates. Even a few large molded chocolate shapes were set decoratively around the outer edge of the bowl.

Dean extracted a small, pure chocolate heart, stripped off the pink foil and popped it into his mouth. He chewed loudly, nearly a grotesque noise and fished around in the bowl for another one. The second heart broke between his teeth and Dean made a noise of approval when rich caramel filling coated his tongue. Dean took his time licking the last off the chocolate off his teeth and looked down at the bowl of still relatively undisturbed sweets. After a few seconds Dean dropped heavily into a chair at the head of the table and pulled the large ceramic bowl towards himself.

Who was he fooling, anyway?

Dean tilted his chair back, balancing precariously on two legs as he opened the refrigerator door, pulled out a carton of milk and pushed the door closed again. He dropped back down on all four legs with a clatter and a thud. Dean uncapped the milk and went about his business sorting through the sea of holiday colored M&Ms, seasonally shaped and wrapped brand name chocolates and specially bought treats like caramels, crystallized honey and chunks of harden preserves.

He tried for a while to avoid the large, molded chocolates among the little fodder but surrendered and quickly dismembered a chocolate bear the size of his hand. It was followed by a dark chocolate fish, a chocolate and caramel filled heart and a white chocolate horse.

Dean continued to devour the sweets; he tapped his muddy boots on the floor and took deep swigs directly from the milk carton. He was really starting to enjoy his spiral into impending doom. Especially when he found a small hidden cache of rich, fudge cubes at the bottom of the pool of M&Ms and candy note hearts. He was smiling to himself, making a few faces to no one in particular and bobbing his head and toes to music only playing in his mind. His heart was starting to pound faster and his brain was buzzing as sugar, caffeine and pure aphrodisiac flooded his systems.

Dean felt the mix of excitement and agitation sweep over him. The flight or fight responses instinctive in him were in overdrive. His muscles were twitching and his senses start to catch the smallest changes in his environment.

Dean knew he was getting worked up. It was a horrible double standard. He was probably going to need all the extra energy that his sin was giving him.

And suddenly he wasn't satisfied and packed with to much energy to burn. The stimulated emboldment sent Dean on an animalistic hunt for what he wanted. He abandoned the displayed chocolate, in his mind it was something like a scavenged kill. Already waiting for him, there was no fun in it. He hadn't done the tracking, hunting and kill himself. He needed to have the hunt satisfaction. Dean's chocolate overcharged senses were twanging like hot wire, pushing him harder to move and act. So he went for the most obvious first.

In the refrigerator Dean felt somewhat like a badger. He quickly scored a pan of double chocolate brownies, a vanilla cream pie; at which he could barely restrain a stream of manic laughter; a small tub of Funky Munky ice cream and a whole bowl of chocolate covered strawberries.

Dean started on the pie first, carrying it with him and using a fork to shovel mouthfuls away while roaming around the kitchen, continuing his foraging.

He found a bag of chocolate covered espresso beans in the cabinet with the regular packs of unground coffee.

A ceramic pot on a top shelf was packed with Oreos and homemade M&M cookies.

A glass jar tucked between the stacked dishes was filled with hard strips of peanut brittle.

A couple of boxes of Girl Scout cookies were sitting between a few boxes of cereal.

A half full box of glazed and sprinkle covered donuts were in the pantry, as well as a bag of candied apricots and another container of crystallized wild Nevada honey.

Dean figured he should have wondered how it was possible he had never noticed all the sweets in the Greer homes before. But the elder Winchester shrugged it off, his sugar high mind not caring where it all came from, just that it was available. Growling happily Dean settled himself back at the head of the table and rapidly began to work his way through his spoils. The elder Winchester hummed happily to himself he ignored that his skin was starting to feel too tight.

He suddenly went rigid when a low gurgle caught his ear. He turned his head slowly towards the stove and flinched at the sound of another low bubbly gurgle. Dean sniffed and jumped up from his chair so fast it almost fell over. Dean stalked animal like towards the stove top, stopping once halfway across the kitchen when he thought he heard someone moving in the ranch home, then continued until he stood right over a large saucepan simmering on low heat. Dean looked down into the pool of dark, hot chocolate. He sniffed, able to see his reflection in the smooth surface before it bubbled and softly belched a tiny cloud of chocolate steam at him. Dean felt a small shiver run up his spine and explode in his brain, he drooled.

Hot chocolate was his favorite.

Another sniff and a very cautious turn of a wooden spoon in the liquid and the elder Winchester knew it was made by Celia. His in total overdrive senses could smell the raw cocoa, cinnamon, unpasteurized milk and chili pepper. Hell he could almost taste it all in the air around the sauce pan.

If the emotion Dean had felt for the red head to date had been strong it was suddenly tripled in strength and expanded stimulated by sugar, caffeine and aphrodisiac. Dean swiftly extracted a white ceramic bowl from the closest shelf and tipped the still bubbling hot chocolate into the container. He filled it over halfway, lifted it between his calloused hands and drank it straight from the bowl.

The hungry growl that had been lingering in his chest died down to an intoxicated purr. Dean settled himself back to the table and continued to eat bear like through the cache of sweets and chocolate but at a slower, more content pace.

Several more minutes of bliss were interrupted by the low rumble of an engine. A jeep pulling into the Wounded Heart drive. Dean twitched, growled unhappily that he was going to be disturbed. He slugged back a final draw of milk and practically tossed it into the refrigerator, he gathered some of the wrappers and swept them into the trash. The hair on the back of his neck started to bristle at the sound of jeep doors being swung shut and voices drifted towards him. He needed to get out of there in a hurry. Dean finished off his bowl of hot chocolate, swiftly grabbed a handful of choice treats, stuffed them into his pocket unable to stop himself from unwrapping a butterscotch treat. Dean walked calmly out of the kitchen and his crime scene, into the living room of the ranch home and started to step around the couch. He stopped, setting the hard candy between his cheek and his teeth and looked down.

Celia was casually curled up in the corner of the sofa cushions, her back pressed against the arm and she slowly turned the pages of a thick book in her hands. An attractive pair of glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, easing the strain on her blood colored eyes. Her russet hair was tied back between the ram's set of horns in her forehead. Wrapped up in jeans and a Huston Texans football jersey she looked rather peaceful.

And empty ceramic mug still had the lingering ring of hot chocolate collecting at the bottom.

Before he could second guess his own actions; all he would later blame on a two and a half pound rock of chocolate in his stomach; Dean braced a hand on the back of the sofa above her shoulder. When she looked up he swiftly stole a kiss. Chocolate flushing through is systems pushed Dean into dominance. He intensified the kiss, becoming more aggressive. It was swiftly spiraling into something barely restrained. Feral.

His other hand lifted to brace along her jaw and pulled her closer. His initial idea for a swift embrace then run dissolved as Celia responded to the stimulation, arching towards him. Dean felt one knee bend and ease down onto the cushion, his body threatening to straddle her.

He heard the sound of the screen door open and the voices drifted in to interrupt him again. Dean growled into Celia's lips, he briefly tongued the piece of butterscotch candy stuck to the back of his cheek. He knew it was one of Celia's favorites. Dean savagely deepened the kiss, swiftly passing her the butterscotch before breaking off and pushing himself back up and away.

The red head gave herself self a little bit of a shake and looked up at him in confusion, she absently toyed with the butterscotch in her mouth.

Dean smiled slyly at her, unwrapping a chocolate heart from his pocket and popping it into his mouth.

Celia's face fell, she actually stiffened a little. "Ya didn't…all that chocolate?"

Dean only grinned a little wider, sucking the melted chocolate off his thump and licking his teeth and lips.

"Goddamnit. Dean, ya know that stuff makes ya worse than a buck in rut." Celia snorted, Dean's wolfish smile deepened and a noise somewhere between a purr and a laugh slipped from his throat. He took a step towards her, Celia jerked back, bristling and a low growl warning in her throat.

"No! Don't come near me, ya better find some way to get rid of that energy that doesn't involve me."

The voices pressed into the kitchen, not ten yards away and died into silence.

The elder Winchester winked at Celia, "Come find you later."

"The Hell ya will." Celia snarled after him as Dean slipped silently out of the room and towards the front hall, looking for some means of escape. Celia watched his back for a few long seconds then returned to her book and sucked lightly on the hard candy. The taste of "Dean" mixing with the bite of butterscotch.

Celia sighed, she was just glad she'd thought to buy doubles of everything this year. But she couldn't do this again. She would have to lock Dean up in a bathroom around Easter.

She turned the page of her book, the only noise in the ringing silence of the ranch home.

"God…" Sam's voice drifted into the living room and over the couch, reaching Celia's ears. She sighed and shut her book, slipping a Saint Michael prayer card between the pages.

"Wow." Imogene's disembodied voice cut through the silence broken by the younger Winchester. Celia slipped the glasses off her face, folded them and set them aside. She sighed, her teeth clattered over the hard surface of the candy in her mouth before she pushed herself up onto her feet and started for the kitchen. She flinched when Rosa's voice cut through the air and rattled the windows in the house.

"DEAN WINCHESTER! NO GODDAMN SELF CONTROL!"


Hope y'all enjoyed! Happy Valentines Day! Give chocolate!