This is my first writing piece I've made public, and that's because of a certain eager best friend of mine. Yes, you, Iryna. But anyways, I hope you like. Please leave a review so I know! Have a great time 3

~ Kayla

Dean Winchester rolled off the bed in a groggy phase, bare feet slapping on the hardwood floor of the motel room as he made his way past the second bed. Sammy lay asleep in his bed, hardly even giving a twitch in his deep sleep. His usual mop of dark brown hair was the one distinguishable thing seen on only the pillow, the rest of him tucked under a load of blankets. The digital clock on the bedside table beamed red numbers, 6:08 AM. Blinking heavy eyes, Dean stumbled into the bathroom. He closed the door behind him, and fumbled with the switch at the same time, slim fingers sliding on the wall. When the two weak bulbs above the mirror hanging above the sink flickered on, Dean caught his eye in his early morning reflection.

"Sonovabitch!" He screamed, staring. He was suddenly wide awake. Also well aware of how he was now... A female.

Two emerald eyes stared out at him, the same eyes he'd always had. Yet now they had a slight curve, and the sharp jaw line he used to have had softened gently, cheekbones hardly as prominent. Any slight showing of beard was missing, only clear soft skin. He raised a hand, staring down at the strange fingers. Once callused, they were now delicate and not at all like the hunting hands he once had. His hair was long, and dirty blonde, curving around his neck, hanging loose down to his curvy waist. He'd always teased Sam for having longish hair. Now the joke was on him, as he was the female Dean with this wild hair, and-

"Look at these babies," Dean said in awe, voice high pitched. He raised his unfamiliar hands to grope at the breasts tightly pressed against the moss green thin v-neck top he wore on his feminine body. "Oh, yeah."

"Dean."

His head snapped up, to find someone abruptly standing beside him, hands still fondling his own breasts. The person was Castiel. But now... "You got chicked up, too?" He asked, taking in Cas' new appearance. The usual trench coat was there, but his shirt was now loosely buttoned almost seductively over a pair of breasts similar in size to Dean's, half hidden by a blue tie. His slacks were missing, replaced with a short black skirt. Knee high boots with sharp heels finished the outfit.

At least Cas had kept his piercing blue eyes in his femCas look. His messy black hair was longer, brushing his shoulders, and all traces of his usual five o'clock shadow were gone, new pouty lips pink. "Dean, this isn't time to be fooling around," he said, his voice changed into a light tone. "The Trickster is behind this."

Dean brushed back his long blondish hair. "Trickster, eh? That'a friggin' great. Is Sam like this too?" He paled, worrying, and whirled around, hair nearly smacking Cas in the face. Unlocking the door, he bolted out of it to nearly bowl over Sam, who was rushing towards the bathroom, having woken up from Dean talking.

Great, Dean thought, taking in his younger brothers look. "Guess I'm going to have to start calling you little sister now, Sammy," he said without thinking.

Sam's hair was the same length as it had been as a boy, but it was thicker, and had a certain shine that most men didn't find masculine enough, especially in their business. Small breasts poked out from beneath his baggy night shirt, thin legs cased in his usual pajama pants. He really hadn't change much, minus the strong chin and deepest look of just pure masculinity. He looked like a really tall 12 year old, Dean was musing, as he brushed back his own irritatingly long hair.

"What the hell is going on Dean?" Sam asked, staring down at his brother and then himself. He didnt seem as fascinated with his new womanly parts as Dean had.

"The Trickster," Cas answered instead, coming out of the bathroom to stand beside the eldest Winchester. "He gender swapped us. We're all females."

Sam pursed his lips. "And why is that? Why didn't you stop him?"

"By the time I found out he was the culprit, we had already been changed," Cas said, expression still as deadpan as it always was.

"Surprise!" In a poof of smoke, the Trickster arrived, grinning widely. He eyed Dean's legs up and down in his pajama shorts. "You have mighty fine legs for a girl."

Dean jerked his head, curving his lips in a sneer. "Yeah, almost as nice as your moms. Now friggin' change us back. This is like a crappy Sci-Fi movie."

"Not so fast," The Trickster teased, winking. "Enjoy this one day of fun. Enjoy the perks of feminism."

Castiel took a step forward. It would've been more threatening without the click of his heels against the floor. Dean couldn't resist nodding in approval at Cas' butt, shaped through the clingy coat and skirt. "What is the purpose of this?"

Shrugging, the Trickster merely twitched his wrist. "I got bored? Have fun! I'll change you all back by tomorrow!"

Sam lunged forward, but missed tackling the angel, for he'd disappeared with a snap of his fingers once more. "Damnit!" Sam raged, running a hand furiously through his hair. "Now what?"

"I cannot undo what he has done," Castiel said. He fiddled with the shiny buttons of his trench coat, now much slimmer and ladylike in a fashionable way. "He only said a day."

"We," Dean argued, "are in the middle of a hunt! This damn rugaroo isn't going to be easy to kill if we can't do it."

"Maybe we should just lay low for today," his younger brother said. "I'm sure we have bigger problems. That guy is hardly hitting the raw meat category yet." Sam walked over to his bed, picking up his duffel bag of clothes beside it on the floor. He rifled through the bag, face dismayed. "Like this. He even changed our clothes."

Dean pushed past his brother (or sister) and grabbed his own duffel, tearing it open and dumping the contents on the bed. Thin fabric, leather, and lingerie fell to the covers, all in dark shades of coloring. Castiel clicked over, and gingerly picked up a black lace thong, with scarlet flowers decorating little fabric it had. He regarded it with curious interest, tilting his head to the side.

"Stop being a pervert," Dean snapped, and leaned across the bed to snatch it from Cas.

The angel stared expressionless at the panties in Dean's hand. "Those are mine."

Dean's head jerked up. "What?"

"Those are mine," Cas repeated matter-of-factly. "It is similar to how you have a pair of my boxers as when we were all males, and how I am not wearing any now-"

"Wooooaaaaah, okay!" Sam interjected, rubbing his face, absently noticing how smooth and stubble free his face was. "Too much info, there." He'd noticed the late night murmurs on the other side of the room, the way his brother and their angel companion would disappear at night. He liked to think of them as going over battle plans of how to stop this apocalypse, not... Doing it. Dean was still his older brother. There were boundaries on what the other did and what they knew of that business.

Dean was looking anywhere but at Castiel or Sam, his cheeks femininely pink. "Let's go get some breakfast, eh, Sammy?"

"Remember, we're girls now. We can't go on calling each other by male names. It'll confuse the hell out of people, and I don't want attention," Sam said. "You're Deana now."

"Okay, Samantha," Deana smirked. "Looks like I can finally live up to Grandma Campbell's name."

Samantha Winchester grabbed a light blue hoodie from her duffle bag and a pair of jeans, then stomped to the door, hips swaying almost in protest. Deana chuckled and took out her own clothes from the widely spread selection on her bed. "Time to be sexy," she muttered, and began her move into girl territory, with Castiel hardly hiding his obvious staring.