Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
Author's Note: Dean was born a woman, Deanna, and although their personalities are not entirely different, it changes her relationship with a certain Angel. Deanna isn't strictly heterosexual, so she's had homosexual hook-ups, such as with Lisa, but of course there would have been no chance she was Ben's father lol. I know gender swap has probably been done before, but I wanted to try my hand at it! But this story will focus on Deanna and Castiel. We start in Episode 3 of Season 5, Sam and Deanna have gone their separate ways, and Castiel contacts Deanna for help in finding the Archangel Raphael! I imagine female Dean as Katee Sackhoff from BSG. For now there will be a lot of similarity with the series, so it may look like I'm just copying out the episode word for word, but It will get more individual and distinctive after this chapter, this is a What If? scenario after all!
Chapter 1: A Mission of Mercy
Deanna Winchester knocked back her whiskey in one shot, wincing slightly at the burn. She received drunken hoots and clapping from the surrounding men, bikers and malcontents, who were getting off on watching a babe and a Hells Angel having a drinking contest. She slammed the glass rim down onto the bar table, next to the other 15, and linked her hands above her head in a stretch, smirking at the greying, leather clad man opposite her. He stared at her grimly, reaching a calloused hand to the table and dragging the glass towards him, the rim scraping on the table. He downed the drink methodically, grunting as he slammed the glass down, determined not to be bested by a woman, but Deanna could see the tremor ricochet up his arm, making him sway slightly. Taking the initiative, Deanna reached her hiking boot clad foot under the table, connected with her opponents chair and pushed. As predicted, the chair toppled over, biker with it, and he was too drunk to stand up. He remained a crumpled heap on the floor, despite the pleas and shouts of his cohorts.
"Guess that means I win guys, pay up!"
The bikers grumbled, handing over the money as Deanna hung lazily in her chair, smirking and making wise cracks.
"Thank you, thank you, I'll be here all week. Try the veal!"
Deanna shirked on her brown leather jacket, pulling her long layered blond hair out from the collar, and gleefully gathered up the notes that had been slammed on the table. Without counting she knew it had to be close to $600, no credit card fraud necessary for a few days. She took a $50 out and handed it to the bartender, a good looking Hispanic guy named Juan who she'd flirted with a little. She told him to keep the change and swaggered her way out of the bar, missing his look of disappointment, he had hoped she'd wait until his shift ended. Deanna didn't feel like hooking up tonight, but drinking was her way of celebrating a successful vampire hunt, especially without bitch-face looking at her disapprovingly.
Deanna walked across the empty road, into her motel room, and collapsed on her bed, face first, she didn't wake up until dark the next day.
Deanna woke up with a dry taste in her mouth, and dragged her numb limbs out of the bed, shirking off her clothes and walking naked into the shower. She supposed there was one perk to not having Sam here, clothing optional days. She turned the water to almost boiling, washing herself and her hair with the motel soap. One of these days she'd have to buy some shampoo, or get a haircut. Personal grooming hadn't been top priority since the apocalypse started, hell, even before that she hadn't cut her hair since she woke up in her own grave. Thinking of this Deanna looked at her arm, which still sported a human hand print, although nowhere near as prominent as it had been then, there was still shiny scar tissue where Castiel's hand had "raised her from perdition". The little dweeb had a fancy way of saying "pulled you out of hell", but Deanna had to admit the dork-angel had his cute moments.
Deanna turned off the water and stepped out of the shower cubicle, feeling the chill of the air on her skin she grabbed a towel and dried off before pulling on some clean underwear. She only had the lacy stuff left; she needed to do some laundry soon. She'd nabbed this Victoria Secret number from a Laundromat, it had fit so she kept them, but they weren't really her speed. She walked to the mirror, with her hairbrush, raking it through her hair and glancing at the anti-possession tattoo on her hip. It didn't look new anymore, already starting to get the faded look of a veteran tat, it was the first thing she'd had redone when she'd been resurrected. She'd woken up brand new, a virgin in every way, and she still hadn't fixed that, been a bit too busy saving the world, or at least, marginally keeping the inevitable at bay. She threw the brush behind her onto the floor and reached down for the complimentary mouth wash, looking into the mirror to get the fright of her life, Castiel was standing not 3 inches behind her, looking at her with innocent interest.
"Don't do that!"
"Hello Deanna"
Deanna turned around and was suddenly aware that she was in sexy underwear in a motel room with an angel standing in front of her. Castiel was intently looking at her face, he hadn't noticed her state of dress yet.
"Cas, we've talked about this, personal space!"
"My apologies"
Cas stepped back and seemed to suddenly realise that crucial pieces of clothing were missing, he began to blush. So Angel's blushed, huh. Deanna edged away from the sink, walking away from Cas to where her clothes were, she suddenly felt vulnerable, which was quite out of character, and wanted to cover up. She told herself it was for Cas's sake, who was now actively avoiding looking at her. He'd probably never seen a chick without clothes on before.
"How'd you find me? I thought I was flying below the Angel-radar"
Deanna pulled on a clean tank top and yesterdays jeans. She still felt quite exposed, so grabbed a plaid shirt too.
"You are, Bobby told me where you were."
Deanna adjusted the shirt, pulling her hair out of the collar, watching Castiel examining the room, looking for something. He saw she was clothed and now his eyes stayed trained onto her. He was always with the intense staring.
"Where is Sam?"
Deanna felt something pull at her heart, making it heavy, she didn't want to talk about her failure with Sam. She tried a diversionary tactic.
"Me and Sam have taken separate vacations for a while. So, did you find God yet? More importantly can I have my damn necklace back please?"
"No, I haven't found him, it's why I'm here..."
Cas, then proceeded to tell Deanna of his plan to catch a Teenage Mutant Ninja Archangel in order to interrogate him to find where his Dead-beat Dad was. Deanna was very sceptical of this plan, but the serious look on Cas's face was quite endearing, as usual, she resorted to sarcasm.
"So what? I'm Thelma and you're Louise and we're just going hold hands and sail off this cliff together?"
Cas had looked blankly at her, as usual. She really needed to get him to watch some TV, it'd do the guy some good. Deanna replied with another comment, turning round to find her face was less than an inch away from Cas's, his blue eyes stared into her own, and his head was tilted to one side.
"I need your help, because you are the only one who'll help me. Please."
Cas's stare was doing something to her insides that she didn't think was strictly Angel-kosher. Well, she didn't have any other plans tonight.
"Fine, it's a date, but you better not try anything funny, my brother has a shot gun."
"Why would Sam's possession of a weapon be pertinent in this case? Archangels are not affected by bullets."
Deanna rolled her eyes, and didn't bother trying to explain.
"Where is this Raphael?"
"Main, let's go." Cas reached out with his fingers together to transport them.
"Woah, last time you zapped me someplace I didn't poop for a week, we're driving."
Deanna grabbed her boots and gear and left the motel, a puzzled but pleased angel trailing behind her like a lamb.
...
They stopped at a McDonalds on the way, to let Deanna change into something more FBI friendly. Deanna hated the skirt suit, but the macho types felt more comfortable talking to a woman in a skirt, it made her seem less intimidating, she and Sam had liked to play good cop bad cop. Sam...she wouldn't think about it. She'd put some make-up on and pulled her hair back into a professional bun. Her heels pinched, she needed to invest in better footwear. Cas had stared at her when she came out.
"Deanna, you are wearing a skirt."
"No shit Sherlock."
"You look...very female."
That was an odd response from a guy who'd seen her underwear last night, but then, Castiel was odder than Willy Wonka.
"I was last time I checked. Thanks Casanova, let's go."
"My name is not Casanova, it is Castiel. Who is this Casanova you speak of?"
"I'll tell you when you're older."
"Also, how is the children's box meal meant to deliver happiness?"
Deanna could tell this police interview was going to be fun.
...
Castiel's attempts to act like a FBI official had been lacklustre at best; at least he had looked the part, but that was really due to Jimmy Novak, "Holy Tax Accountant" she'd called him once, but the office wear seemed like skin to the angel. Castiel without the suit and coat was like Superman without tights. At least they knew where to find Raphael's vessel now, they'd stake the place out tomorrow. After their interview Cas had disappeared, sometimes the guy was like freaking Batman. Not knowing when he'd show up again, Deanna went to the local D.I.Y store to grab some supplies, ate, and then went back to her base in the abandoned house she and Cas had broken into. She was glad she'd showered yesterday; the water in this place was brown. A few hours later, once it was dark and Deanna was sick of researching, Cas reappeared with a weird vase.
"Where have you been?"
Great, now she sounded like an angry house wife.
"Jerusalem."
"Oh, how was it?
"Arid."
Castiel walked over to the desk she'd just put her book on, he placed the vase on it. It looked hand-made and old, definitely not Pottery-Barn.
"What's that?"
"Oil, it's very special and very rare."
Cas looked distracted, his eyes shifty as he sat down in the chair, their conversation turned more serious as he described the difficulty of trapping Raphael in order to question him.
"Do we have any chance of surviving this?"
Castiel nodded towards her with his head.
"You do."
Deanna walked from in front of Cas to behind him, she couldn't look him right in the eye at the moment.
"So odds are you're a dead man tomorrow."
"Yes."
Cas said this with such calm and finality it stunned her. Deanna knew what is was like to die, and what Raphael would do to Cas was probably only a fraction of what those Hell hounds had done to her, never mind the 40 years of hell afterwards. Thinking of that time with Alistair, his slimy hands on her, the knives, the weapons, cutting into her, Deanna really needed a drink. Deanna covered her pause with joviality.
"Wow, so last night on earth, any plans?"
"I just thought I'd sit here quietly."
Was Cas being serious? This guy needed to get a life, but at the same time it was a little sad. Deanna stood behind Cas, who was sitting in the chair, and suddenly felt the need to stir him into action. How could he just sit there and wait for the end?
"Oh come on, anything? Booze? Women?"
Cas's head turned round and his eyes flickered involuntarily to Deanna's breasts, then up to her eyes, and back and then he moved his head away, flustered. Deanna began to suspect something.
"You have been with a woman before? Right? Or an Angel at least?"
Cas looked even more wide eyed and frantic, twitching he unconsciously rubbed at his neck.
"You mean you haven't been up there pushing the clouds? Ever..?"
Cas went on the defensive now, attitude inserted into his speech, Deanna had taught him well:
"I haven't has occasion, okay."
Poor guy, possibly dead as disco tomorrow and had never been laid, it sounded like a bad pick up line. He just looked so small, innocent and pathetic sitting there in the dark. It was a sad state of affairs when the only person in the entire world Cas could ask for help was her. For a second Deanna considered taking him out, finding him a professional, but if he was this freaked out with just her, what would he be like in public with a hooker? Deanna made a decision.
"Alright, there are two things I know for certain" she said as she shirked off her plaid shirt:
"1. Bert and Ernie are gay and 2. You are not going to die a virgin on my watch, come on."
Deanna grabbed Castiel's hand but he remained seated, he looked petrified.
"Where are we going?"
"Upstairs"
"Why?"
Cas's eyes were wide and frantic, his Adam's apple prominent as he swallowed, for a fraction of a second Deanna found it funny an Angel had an Adam's apple.
"Well Cas, there's a fairly decent bed upstairs and we're alone. When you resurrected me, you made me brand spanking new, which included the one thing a woman's never supposed to get back. Seeing as you might kick the bucket tomorrow and I don't feel like being "The Virgin Goddess Deanna" anymore, which is technically you fault, we're going to be friends and help each other out."
"What are you saying?"
"We're having sex genius."
Cas looked like a deer in headlights, pale and wide-eyed as Deanna yanked him from his chair and started leading him upstairs. It was for his own good, and she tried to convince herself she hadn't thought about doing it before.
This was a mission of mercy, Cas needed to be relieved of his V card. Who else could she trust to do it right?
...
Author's Note: Please Read and Review!