A.N.: Hey again guys! First off thanks a billion for the lovely reviews for "Sammy", I so love you guys. Secondly, this is my version of a crack fic, I just got to thinking what would happen if Sam and Dean landed into Buffy during Changing Channels and this spawned and I tried to ignore it, but this bunny refused to go away...so here it is. I seem to only write angst for these two lovely boys so I need some happy times. Not to mention Kripke and Whedon have broken my heart way more than any relationship I have had, so I need to have them together. Hopefully you get a kick out of it as well!

Disclaimer: Not mine

There was no way this was happening. No frigging way. Despite his minds protest when his hand moved up to skim through his hair, he found himself cursing as his fingers got stuck in the unholy amount of gel in it. He chuckled, muttering softly.

"Friggin awesome."

Last thing he remembered was the Japanese game show and now he was here. Where the heck was Sam?

"SAM!" he called into the foggy cemetery. They had never traveled into a different channel without each other and Dean felt his concern ratchet up a notch as he raced around the area, stopping only when he realized he could hear everything. And he meant, everything. He could hear the blades of grass stirring in the wind, he could hear the frantic pattern of a heart beating in a chest, he could hear the unmistakable noises of combat. And God he was hungry!

He stopped short as he watched a slender blonde approach him. He licked his lips in appreciation taking notice of all of her lovely features, pausing on her face that was pulled into a scowl. Only one person had ever given him "bitchface" like that before. "Son of a...Sam?"

"Don't even say it Dean." he grumbled, raising a hand in warning.

"I always knew you were a girl Sammy, but this, this is just too good."

"Shut up." he muttered, eyes slicing into Dean with annoyance.

"Blonde looks good on you man." Dean chortled, having way to much fun with this.

"You know Dean I have plenty of blackmail material myself considering you were just looking at me like sex on a stick," he paused, letting out a soft chuckle. "The therapy I'm going to need man."

Dean greened just a little, amusement dying a quick death on his face as he took stock of Sams' words.

Like any good brother would do, and for both their sanity, Sam gave Dean some slack and said instead in a voice much to high and feminine to be his, "So what do you think we need to do here? Because I would like to get out of this nightmare," he gave a frustrated sigh. "Soon."

Dean shot him a momentary look of gratitude and then settled back on his heels, "Well you know this show as well as I do, let's go find us some vampires." he grinning cockily, trying to ignore the churn in his stomach.

Sam shifted uneasily in his tight clothing. "Who the heck fights in this crap anyway?"

"I don't know Sam, but we have a serious problem. We really need to find a damn vamp,"

Sams' blond eyebrows knit together in confusion. "What's up?"

His shit-eating grin was back in full force as he said. "What if you have to take a leak?"

Sam paled almost as much as his bloodless brother.

Sam was starting to squirm. "Where the hell are all the vamps in this town? We have checked the blood banks, bars, and The Silver club? Not to mention circled the cemetery twice!"

Dean patted his brothers slender shoulder, exhaling a unneeded breath. "I know man just try to calm down, I'm sure one's just right around the corner."

There wasn't and Sam whirled on him. "Calm down?" he sputtered. "Calm down? Dean I'm five foot three,in leather pants, I'm petite, and really what the hell am I going to be able to do with these?" he held up tiny fists, glaring at the delicacy of them.

"Sammy," Dean starting, going back to the built in habit of running a hand through his hair, goddamn gel!

Sam sucked in a steadying breath. "I know. We just need to play our roles, just if we don't find a vamp soon..."

"Hey! We could go regroup with the gang, have ourselves a powwow, maybe I could work my charms on that cute little redhead," he paused, smiling at the thought.

"Actually Dean, she uh, she turned out to be a lesbian,"

His expression went from gleeful to horrified in two seconds flat. "What?"

"Yeah, after what's his name left her she turned gay."

He groaned, shoving his hands into the dusters pockets and pouting. "Man I hate this show."

Sam echoed the groan. "Dude, me too."

This was their third trip around the cemetery and Dean was anxiously flicking his lighter, lighting, closing, lighting, closing. And Sam was trying really, REALLY hard not to think about his full, sloshing bladder.

Sams' cell phone chirped cheerily in his pocket and he dug it out with a muffled yelp. Text message. He almost dismissed the message completely, before glancing the date. "Seriously?" he grumbled, starting as Dean peered over his shoulder.

"What is it?"

Sam waved the phone in his line of sight.

"October 31st? Why is that important?" he scratched absently at his temple.

Sam rolled his eyes and responded dryly. "Halloween Dean. In this world."

It only took a second for the light bulb to go off in his brothers' eyes, gaze turning furious as he connected the dots. "That son of a bitch," he growled.

"Yeah, Halloween. As in all demons take the night off Halloween."

"Dammit! How the hell are we supposed to get out of here then?"

Sam did smile then. "We look in the right places."

"Which are?"

"Demon bars."

A quirked scarred eyebrow, lips turning up in a smirk.

"Now you are speaking my language little bro."

The first crack of bone underneath his lethal fist is ridiculously satisfying as he lays into the first demon. It's red, and has some sort of twisted pair of horns protruding from his head and downright grotesque teeth, but it buckles under his blows just like anything else he has ever fought. He casts a glance to his brother, wearing the skin of a short blonde and still giving as good as he was getting. He would have been proud, taken a second to revel in the fairly impressive way his brother was holding his own. Even in a girls body. But he was too busy defending himself from a viscous backhand from a...he turned. Bingo vampire!

"You're not welcome here anymore mate," the vampire spewed, coupled with a strike to Dean's side.

"Not really my crowd anyways," he ducked under a kick, raising his head up to bellow out "SAM!"

His brothers blonde head shot up in the crowd, locking eyes with Dean and giving a quick nod.. It amazed Dean that his brother could still read him like a book, after Lucifer, after everything. They were still brothers and that translated in every universe.

Sam rolled out from under one attack, leaping up to his feet as Dean grappled the vampire from behind, pinning him as Sam pulled out a stake somewhere within the confines of his shirt. The wood buried in the monsters chest, the vamp having less than a second to look startled before he burst into dust.

Dean coughed, brushing the ash from his jacket. "Clean up would be a lot easier if they all fit in a dust buster back home huh Sammy?" he chuckled.

Sam didn't have time to come up with a response as they were swept away into another channel.

The next show they got stuck in was some sort of procedural cop show, and he was yet again tall,powerful and thank GOD male. He barely had time to adjust to that show before they finally killed the trickster and then he was sleeping, probably back in the hotel room, next to Dean and he couldn't really remember how he got there but it was nice and comfortable and... Dean was calling for him. He responded and learned very quickly that things weren't okay. He was the Impala and Dean was pissed. Being driven made Sam wish he had gone to the bathroom in the last world, no matter how awkward and terrible it would have been. He wondered if he could bribe Dean into giving him an oil change...

Opposable thumbs, brown hair, and yes, finally, FINALLY a bathroom. Porcelain had never looked so beautiful. A loud knock made him jump. "Sam, you okay in there?" He huffed a laugh. "Yeah I'm fine." Footsteps retreated from the door, he washed his hands and joined his brother in the room. His quiet, contemplative brother. Now what was wrong with this picture?

"What is it man?"

"Nothing."

"You look like something is on your mind." he began, sitting on the edge of his bed. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, unsure how to approach his brother.

Dean looked sideways at him. "Dawson Creeking it out has always been your thing, not mine."

Sam sighed loudly. "Can we not make any TV show references for at least a week?"

His big brother winced sympathetically, "Sounds good to me."

The silence lasted about an hour before Dean looked up from his half eaten burger. He stared at Sam a minute, swallowed hard and then placed the burger down on the table.

"What's wrong?"

Dean shook his head in response.

"Seriously man. What is it?"

"Just..." he sighed, clearing his throat. "Had a weird craving for," he gulped down the disgust. "Blood."

Sam almost fell out of his seat. "What?" he sputtered.

"Nothing, never mind, forget it." Deans face shut down so fast Sam was surprised there hadn't been a deafening clang accompanying it.

"Hey man, sorry, I didn't mean to...it just caught me off guard, I wasn't expected, well, that." Sam tripped over his words, nervous at saying the wrong thing.

"I'm sure it's just a side effect of that dick Gabriel yanking us around. Just when I was a vampire or whatever I was freaking starving the whole time dude, but not for Biggersons." his voice held a shade of guilt.

Sam huffed a laugh at that, fondly remembering simpler times when the worst they had faced was a stupid rabbits foot.

"Dean, it's going to wear off. Probably before tomorrow morning, as it is man my legs are super stiff, cars don't really need to be walking around I guess." he shook his head softly, meeting his brothers eyes. "You're gonna be fine."

Dean stared at him for several long seconds, gauging his sincerity, before he picked the burger back up and took out a hearty bite. "Fake it till you make it right bro?"

"Yeah." he said with a smile.

"Plus I'm sure you are just itching for your leather pants right now,"

Sams hand halted it's trajectory through his hair.

"And stroking it won't bring back those golden locks," a smirk had formed on his older brothers face.

"I don't want to hear you crying for your leather duster tonight man. I mean really, bleached blonde hair AND a leather duster, it's called overkill."

"It's called style and at least I wasn't that other whiny bastard with the emo hair."

Sam scowled a little bit at that, he actually preferred that character to the other. "I actually like him,"

He didn't realize he had said anything out load until Dean was full on beaming. "Of course you would like the angstpire. No taste." he shook his head with mock sorrow.

Sam chucked him on the arm. "At least I don't have a taste for B negative."

"Bite me." low, but not said without humor.

"More your department dude." Sam retorted.

Dean full on laughed at that, caught off guard by the comment, almost choking on his food. He cleared the table and flopped down on his bed, folding his arms above his head. Sam almost thought he dozed off until he heard him say loud and clear. "Bitch."

Sam grinned without turning towards him and replied. "Jerk."

Things were back to normal for the Winchester boys, or as normal as they ever got for them anyway.

A.W.: Happy 4th! If you even chuckled at this, my work is done :D