DISCLAIMER: Not mine, I just make the Winchesters dress in sparkly briefs for others to chase them.
TITLE: If You Go Down To The Woods Today
RATING: K+ For a couple of naughty words, and mention of ahem, activities. And leopards.
SUMMARY: There's a nice picnic lunch, a birthday pie, and frisbees. Then, an anaemic looking young man who claims to be a vampire. And a helpless whining girl. And a guy who is not from the Village People. The idjits will always be with us, it seems.
BLAME: Lies squarely with the individuals who wanted to know what would happen if the Jimiverse rammed 'Twilight'. Oh, and I was stuck in a boring meeting again.
IF YOU GO DOWN TO THE WOODS TODAY
The story of a picnic lunch with Bobby, Sam, Dean, Rumsfeld's litter, Ronnie (the World's Crankiest Werewolf) and Andrew (her beleagured pair-bond)
It was Bobby's suggestion that they have a day off, just pretend to be normal, just for one day, and do something fun, like regular folks. But when is anything ever that simple once the Winchesters are involved?
A picnic lunch, Bobby suggested. A day out. A birthday cake, even. Well, at Dean's insistence, it was a birthday pie. Rumsfeld's litter was turning five, and for Hunters' dogs, that was something of a milestone.
"Happy Birthday dear Jimi and Janis and Joni," sang the mostly-human members of the extended pack, "Happy Birthday to you!"
The cutting of the birthday pie was followed by the flipping of the birthday frisbees. However, mid-chase, the three dogs left off, veered suddenly, and headed for a tree, where they clustered around the trunk and barked excitedly.
"What the hell?" mused Dean, already on his third piece of birthday pie.
"They've probably bailed up a squirrel or something," grumbled Bobby.
The branches of the tree rustled ominously.
"Is there somebody up there?" wondered Sam.
Ronnie sniffed. "I smell... people," she looked perplexed. "And stupidity."
"Stupidity?" queried Sam.
"Oh yes," said Andrew airily, "When it's really really potent, you can actually smell it."
"What does stupidity smell like?" Sam was fascinated.
"That's ridiculous," declared Dean, "Nobody can smell stupidity."
"Call your dogs off," called a voice from up the tree, "Or I'll kill them all!"
"It smells like that," Ronnie jerked a thumb up the tree.
Sam sniffed. "All I can smell is eyeliner," he shrugged.
"That's because you aint a werewolf, idjit," Bobby slapped him upside the head. "It's okay, son," he called to the young voice up the tree, "We got 'em, they won't do you any harm."
A young man dropped out of the tree, amber eyes angry. "Back off!" he snarled, "Or I'll tear you all to pieces!"
"Dude," said Dean in a worried voice, "You look so anaemic, I don't think you could tear the wrapper off a new mascara, let alone anybody's head."
"We've got some roast beef sandwiches," Bobby said, "I really think it would do you a power of good to eat one."
Do you need somebody to call your Mom?" asked Andrew with concern.
"I feel I must warn you," said the young man, "I am capable of killing you all!"
"Uh-huh," nodded Sam, "Look, why don't you come and have something to eat, we've got a really nice sweet potato and spinach frittata, too, you can get iron from that as well, if you're vegetarian, provided you have some Vitamin C with it, and we have some juice..."
"What were you doing up that tree?" demanded Ronnie. "Do you know how silly that is for somebody who obviously has a very low haemoglobin count? What would have happened if you'd had a dizzy spell, and fallen? You could've been seriously hurt! How old are you, eighteen, nineteen? You're old enough to know better than that!"
"I'm nearly a hundred!" the boy declared, "And I am the perfect predator!"
"You are a perfect idiot!" she snapped back. "You don't have a clotting disorder, do you? Oh, no, are you doing a course of chemotherapy? Good grief, your parents will freak out if they find out you were up a bloody tree!" She grabbed at his hand. "Are you wearing a MedAlert bracelet?"
The pale youth snatched his hand back. "I am faster and stronger than any human..." he went on, sounding a bit less certain of himself. "And I can... I can... run up trees..."
"Er, dude, are you wearing body glitter?" Dean practically giggled as a shaft of sunlight bled through the foliage and made the young man's skin sparkle. "Because that's totally sissy."
"I'm not sissy!" snapped the youth, "I am... a vampire!"
"No you're not," said Andrew, "I know what vampires smell like, and you're not one. They reek of booze, for a start. And they're all asleep at this time of the day." He looked hopefully to Ronnie, who smiled and patted his arm at how well he'd remembered his vampire lore.
"I don't sleep," the pale young man insisted, "Because I'm a vampire!"
"Oh, God, he's one of those kids who thinks he needs blood to survive," sighed Sam. "Sanguinarians. A professor of Forensic Psychology at DeSales University did a study on them a couple of years back. They think they're vampires. It's a disaffected subculture thing.""
"What, like turbo-charged emos?" asked Dean. "Or are they more like anaemic hipsters? You know, I was craving blood before it was cool." He paused. "Wouldn't hipsters crave something else? You know, if everybody is craving blood, they'd be, like, sucking people's blood is so mainstream, that's why I crave, um, bile, or something..."
"I do need to drink blood," the youth insisted, "Because I am a vampire!"
"No you aint," Bobby snickered, "I've taken down vampires, boy, and you aint like 'em. For a start, vampires aint diurnal, and they certainly aint arboreal. Nor do they sparkle, heh heh."
"If you're a vampire, show us your teeth," demanded Dean. "Your feeding fangs. Go on."
With a small Samesque huff of pique, the boy bared his teeth in a ferocious snarl. "I can bite through skin and flesh, and suck out your blood," he stated, "And I can AAAAAARGH!"
"You don't have any," said Dean firmly, grabbing the boy by the chin and the nose and peering into his mouth. The boy waved his arms in protest. "You don't have any fangs at all. Look, they'd come down if I did this," he poked the kid in the gum.
"OW!" The pale young man scowled. "Stop it! Just... just back off, or I'll, I'll, I'll..."
"Maybe he's vampire lite," suggested Andrew. "You know, low-cal vampire. Not as nasty, but better for you."
"Edward?" came a whiny female voice from up the tree, "Edward, have they gone yet?"
"Is there somebody up there?" Sam asked. "Hello? Hello?"
"Ah, I get it!" understanding dawned on Andrew's face. "He says he's a vampire. He meant to say ventriloquist! You're really good, kid, throwing your voice like that. I didn't see your lips move at all!"
"No, there really is somebody up there," Ronnie countered, sniffing deeply. "It's where the stupid is coming from. Hey, stupid person!" she called, "Come on down! Did you talk this boy into going up the tree?"
"You kinky little minx," grinned Dean.
"It's not kinky!" snapped Ronnie, "It's stupid! You irresponsible little bint! He's clearly not well!"
"Just stay where you are, Bella!" called Edward. "Don't you dare threaten her!" he snarled at Ronnie.
"Whoa, whoa, she has a point, dude," Dean pointed out, "Look, I was eighteen once, and I know how the ol' hormone fairy can make you set strange priorities, but seriously, no matter how hot she is, you shouldn't have followed her up a tree, not in your condition. Even if she does let you use her eyeliner."
"I really think you should sit down and eat some frittata," suggested Sam, "We can call your Mom or Dad..."
"You're not takin' any medication, son, are you?" enquired Bobby, "You really should have one of them MedAlert bracelets on, you know, for emergencies."
"I am not eating any damned picnic!" Edward's voice was slightly more shrill that he intended, "I don't eat frittata! I don't eat roast beef! I drink blood! And I am not sick! I am a vampire! I am the Living Undead! I am the Gifted Immortal! I am even older than you!" he pointed accusingly at Bobby, "So don't tell me what to do!"
"Why do you run up trees then?" asked Sam.
"What?" Edward looked at him incredulously.
"If you're a vampire, why do you run up trees?" Sam repeated. "You said you can run up trees. Why? What's the evolutionary advantage to a vampire in running up trees? Humans are the primary prey of the vampire. As a rule, humans don't live in trees."
"Tarzan did," Dean pointed out.
"Tarzan wasn't real," Sam rolled his eyes, "So, why does a vampire run up trees?"
"It would be useful if you were being chased by, say, a leopard," Dean asserted. "You could run up the tree, and it wouldn't bite you. Which is Nature's way of avoiding the creation of vampire leopards, because that would just be creepy. And weird."
"No it wouldn't," countered Bobby, "Because leopards can climb trees."
"Have you ever been chased by a leopard?" Dean asked the bemused boy.
"There are no leopards in the US, Dean," Sam said through clenched teeth.
"He might've been scared by one when he was little, at the zoo," Dean said defensively, "Or there might've been one escape from the circus, and it chased him up a tree, and he's been frightened of leopards ever since."
"Dean, there aren't any leopards in the wild to be frightened of!" snapped Sam.
"He could still be worried about imaginary leopards," Dean insisted. "I used to be scared of imaginary alligators, and you used to be scared of imaginary tapirs."
"Tapirs?" Ronnie echoed dubiously.
"Tapirs," confirmed Dean. "He saw a picture of one in a book, and he was terrified that one was going to come snuffling up from under his bed, with that creepy wiggly nose, and..."
"DEAN!" barked Sam.
"It's a fair question, though," Andrew conceded, "Why do vampires run up trees?"
The pale boy had been watching the conversation go back and forth with a look of complete confusion on his face, but a small amount of colour crept into Edward's cheeks as he answered. "Well, um, Bella likes it."
"Her up there?" Dean glanced up the tree. "I told you she was kinky!"
"Edwaaaaaaard," came the whiny voice from the canopy.
"Look, why don't you come down the tree," Bobby suggested. As an afterthought, he added quickly, "You do have clothes on, don't you? Don't come down here without yer britches on, missy."
"It's safe," called Dean, "There's no leopards or alligators or tapirs."
"Hang on, Bella, I'll come get you," Edward called up the tree.
"Oh no, you don't," said Ronnie firmly, grabbing his arm, "You are NOT going back up that tree! Little Miss Irresponsible can get herself down."
"No she can't!" replied Edward anxiously, "Because I took her up the tree!"
"She has arms and legs, doesn't she?" enquired Ronnie. "You do have all your limbs, yes?" she called.
"Edwaaaaaaaaaard!" came the anxious whine.
"Oh, just climb down, you delicate fainting flower," Ronnie snapped crossly, "Bella, was it?"
"I caaaaaaan't!" a tearful voice came drifting down.
"Great, useless as well as irresponsible," muttered Ronnie.
"You better go get your lady friend, son," sighed Bobby, "But be careful. Three points of contact with the tree at all times, you hear me, boy?"
"It's affecting his brain," observed Sam sadly, "Whatever disease he has that makes him looke like a scrawny, bled-out corpse, it's affecting his brain. That's so sad. He's so young."
Edward descended from the tree with Bella clinging to his back.
"Stay behind me, Bella," he cautioned, striking an heroic pose, "I will protect you from these weirdos."
"Weirdos?" echoed Dean. "Weirdos? Dude, you're the one who thinks he's a vampire! And she's the one who wanted to do it up a tree. Not that there's anything wrong with that, I have myself done it up a tree..."
"Nobody wants to hear about one of your conquests, Dean," Sam gave his brother a shot of Bitchface #6™ (I SO Do NOT Want To Hear The Gory Details Of One Of Your Sexual Conquests, Jerk).
"He is a vampire!" pouted the pasty-faced girl behind the pale young man, "And he will save me if you try to lay a hand on me!"
"If he's a vampire, where are the marks on your neck?" asked Andrew.
"And why do you go up a tree?" asked Sam.
"You are a thoughtless little hussy," sniffed Ronnie disdainfully, "And you reek of stupid."
The girl called Bella burst into tears.
A distant voice howled on the other side of the park, getting closer.
"Bellllaaaaaaaaaaaa AAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"
A dark-skinned youth wearing nothing but a pair of cut-off jeans came running into view, chiselled abs rippling and tattoos twitching.
"Don't you do anything to upset her!" he demanded, "Don't you dare do anything to upset her!"
"Or what?" asked Andrew, "Are you going to flex at us?"
"Do you have any idea who I am?" snarled the dark-haired young man.
Dean's eyes widened with recognition. "Oh my God!" he almost squealed, "Oh my God! You're... you're... you're... you're him!"
"You recognise this boy?" asked Bobby.
"Totally!" beamed Dean, as the newcomer smirked smugly at Edward, who snarled back. "Do the dance, man, do the dance?"
"What?" the latest arrival's pecs jiggled in confusion.
"The dance! You know," Dean started to wave his arms around. "Y, M, C A, it's fun to stay at the Y, M, C A..."
"Dean," sighed Sam, with a shot of Bitchface #8™ (You Are Now Officially Talking Complete Shit, Dean), "You do realise that Felipe Rose is in his mid-fifties now?"
"Young man, there's no need to feel down... what?" Dean looked suddenly confused. "Are you sure? 'Cause he really looks like him. Without the feathers, yeah, but..."
Edward tittered. "You'd look good in feathers, Jacob," he simpered.
"Shut your face, you undead freak!" barked Jacob, "Or I'll tear your insipid guts out!"
"Sit. Drop," sneered Edward. "Roll over. Play dead. Good boy."
"Oooooh, you are so dead," growled Jacob, "Just as soon as I rip the intestines out of whoever made Bella cry."
"Er, that would be me," Ronnie raised her hand. "Are you a perfect predator, just like him?" She cocked her head. "I have to say, you definitely look healthier. You're a boy who likes his roast beef sandwiches, and his protein shakes..."
"Cradle-snatching old baggage," muttered Andrew, "He's a kid."
"I'm better than him!" declared Jacob. "I am, in fact... a werewolf!"
Andrew looked unconvinced. "Are you sure?" he asked. "That thing about getting hairy palms, you know that's just something that your parents tell you to stop you jerking off..."
"I get hairy all over!" snarled Jacob. "Because I'm a werewolf!"
Ronnie leaned in and sniffed. "It's just adorable," she smiled, "The way puppies have that cute smell to them."
"I'm not a puppy!" Jacob stamped his foot in annoyance. "I am an Alpha!"
"No you're not," she told him, "I've seen Alpha male material, and you're not it."
"Can we adopt him?" Andrew patted the Jacob on the head.
"What would you people know?" Jacob snapped petulantly, as Edward giggled and Bella looked miffed at not being the centre of their attention.
"Er, they both get kind of hairy, at That Time Of The Lunar Month," prompted Bobby.
"Don't be ridiculous," scoffed Jacob, "There's no such thing as female werewolves."
"Oh dear," sighed Andrew. "You can hide behind me if you need to, youngster..."
"Why not?" asked Sam.
"Because," explained Jacob haughtily, "In order to be a werewolf, you have to go around topless, show your tattoos, and flex your imposing physique to intimidate those around you." He demonstrated.
"Oh, all right," shrugged Ronnie, pulling her shirt and foundation garment off. "Hold these, Andrew."
She made the portraits of her dogs dance.
Bobby shook his head. Andrew facepalmed. Dean applauded. Sam shrieked and shut his eyes.
Bella gaped. Edward fainted. Jacob burst into tears.
"Are there any walnuts left in the hamper?" asked Andrew. "She can do this thing, where she cracks them between her knees..."
"Who the hell are you people?" demanded Edward, thoroughly piqued that Bella was now trying to console Jacob, who was feeling decidedly intimidated.
"We're Hunters," explained Dean. "We kill things like vampires and werewolves."
"Not you guys, obviously," Sam assured them, "Because you're not really a vampire or a werewolf."
"I am too a vampire!" Edward suddenly leaped at Sam, arms outstreched and mouth open. Dean grabbed up the large knife they'd used to cut the birthday pie, and cut his head off.
"Well, what do you know, decapitation killed him," he mused, "Maybe he was a vampire after all."
"Edwaaaaaaaaaard!" howled Bella.
"Oh, grow up," snapped Ronnie crossly, "And stop being so helpless."
"Don't you talk to her like that!" Jacob snarled, and leaped at Ronnie, changing as he moved.
She met him half way, and grabbed him by the scruff of the neck in one clawed hand. Andrew translated what she was snarling at him.
Naughty pup! Naughty pup! I am Elder! Submit! Show respect!
She picked up the car magazine Dean had been reading with the other hand, and swatted him on the tail until he yelped. She let him go, and he snatched up his shorts in his mouth and high-tailed it out of the park, going yaipe yaipe yaipe!
"It's okay," Dean assured Bella, "We'll salt and burn the corpse."
"Don't muck around with silly emo boys," suggested Andrew, "Go get an education. Make a life for yourself. Sisters are doing it for themselves, you know."
"But... I'm a vampire too!" she cried, "And I'm going to have his baby!"
Oh, fuck that shit, growled Ronnie, taking the whining girl's head off with a swipe of her claws.
"You can deal with that one," snapped Dean, as Ronnie reverted to human. "Clean up your own mess."
"I will, I will," she told him, pulling her clothes on again.
"Just when you think you've seen it all," Bobby shook his head. "Sparkly vampires, and flexing werewolves. And vampire babies. Ridiculous."
"Does that mean that vampires actually do go up trees to mate?" wondered Sam.
"I have no idea," Bobby told him, picking up one of the heads. "Come on, these won't deal with themselves."
They found a secluded spot to bury the remains of the two sparkly vampires, then finished off the birthday pie. Then Dean threw the frisbees for the dogs, while Sam devised a theoretical experiment to study the mating habits of vampires.
It wasn't the entirely normal day he'd planned, but Bobby had to concede, for his strange little extended family, it was pretty close.
THE END
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