Hunters hate Halloween. It's a given fact. Even most MONSTERS hate Halloween, because it is so far from its roots.
So why the fuck was Ellen Harvelle allowing a Halloween party at the Roadhouse?
And why was Sam getting this text from Jo?
"Hey, Dean?" Sam looked up from his phone.
Dean paused in shoving the bacon cheese-burger into his mouth and spoke around the food. "What? That a job?"
Sam met Dean's eyes and simply held the phone for Dean to see it. Dean finished chewing and swallowed before speaking. "What the hell? A Halloween party? Does Ellen know about this?"
Sam shrugged. "You know as much as I do. But I just can't see her as the Halloween party type, y'know?"
Dean agreed, slurping back his coke and popping the last of his fries into his mouth. "So ask Jo about it. She texted you."
Raising an eyebrow and taking the phone back to compose a text, Sam added, "Seriously. Why me?"
"Guess she finally got over that little crush on me," Dean smirked, leaning back in seat to get to his wallet, "and set her sights a little lower."
Frowning, Sam spit out, "Jerk," while texting.
"Let's go, bitch," Dean answered, throwing down enough for the bill and a generous tip. Normally he'd wait for the check, just to see if the waitress—who was built, and friendly—left her number on it, but he was more intrigued with this Halloween party issue.
As they exited the diner, Dean shooting his usual smoldering smile at the waitress, Sam's phone chimed with a text. He read as he walked, Dean not slowing his pace to the Impala. "Jo said it was Ellen's idea, sorta a "Fuck you" to all the monsters we hunters have taken out, that they're gone and we are all still here killing them. Sort of a weird Hunter's reverse Thanksgiving? Jo's words, not mine," Sam quickly defended himself from Dean's expected comments.
Instead, Sam was left with his jaw hanging open, because Dean said, "Okay. Let's go."
"Seriously?" Sam asked, his eyebrows now disappeared into his shaggy hair.
Dean slid into the driver's seat and turned over Baby. "Yeah. It'd be nice to see Jo and Ellen without a supernatural reason for a change. We finished the job, nothing else is on the schedule yet, right?"
"Nah, nothing. Haven't found a new case yet," Sam answered. "But Halloween? Really?"
"Just 'cause Dad never let you have fun on it doesn't change that it's a holiday," Dean shrugged. "'sides, I've had some serious fun at Halloween costume parties. Brings out the inner slut in the nice girls for a change." Dean chuckled lowly. "If Jo's there, she's gotta bring some girlfriends over for it, right?"
"So you really want to dress up for it, too?" Sam was incredulous. Dean would do a lot to get laid, but this seemed like a lot of effort for only the possibility of getting laid.
Dean laughed. "Not really. But if it means I get to see Jo dressed up? I'll throw something together. I mean, we dress up as Feds at least once a week."
Sam shook his head and settled into the passenger seat, texting Jo back. "Okay. I'll tell her we'll be there."
S&D/S&D/S&D/S&D/S&D
Dean slicked his short hair back again in the Impala's review mirror, and adjusted the cuffs on his jeans. A pack of smokes were rolled up in the short exposed sleeve of his tshirt, a red jacket (last minute addition from the local Good Will) over his shoulder, and Dean was good to go.
Sam was less comfortable in his "costume," even though he spent a great deal of time in it. He adjusted his tie and shrugged his suit jacket on as he got out. "C'mon, Rebel Without a Cause," he called over his shoulder as he started towards the Roadhouse.
"Wait up, Mulder!" Dean directed, climbing out himself and following Sam.
Both men were surprised when the Roadhouse door was locked. "What the fuck?" Dean swore. Sam just gave him Bitchface #3 and knocked. Loudly.
They both heard the turning of the lock, and the door wedged open just enough to make out Ash's, "Closed for Business. Whadda ya want?" Once Ash realized who was there, the door swung wipe open and Sam found himself in a huge hug. "Winchesters! Roadhouse is always open for you. C'mon and join the party!"
Dean followed Sam, studying Ash. He had sleeves on. Of course, they were on a Members Only jacket straight out of the vintage clothing section, along with white high top sneakers and a roll of duct tape around his skinny wrist like a bracelet. "What the hell are you supposed to be?" Dean laughed.
Sam turned around, and in unison with Ash, answer, "MacGyver!"
"Oh, a geek. Got it," Dean shrugged, turning already to look for Jo. Instead he found a plump ass and tightly cinched waist in red, white, and blue, gold rope dangling on a hip and thigh high red stiletto boots bent over to wipe a table. "Nice," he comments, looking his fill. "Hey, Jo, your momma know you're dressed up like that?"
Dean lost his ability to speak when Ellen turned around and tossed her long dark wig over her shoulder. "I'm flattered, Jimmy Dean. Go back to the five and dime now, why don't you?"
Eyes dark and confused, Dean looked to Sam for help. Sam just laughed at him and made his way over to Ellen, pulling her into a hug. "How are you, Ellen?"
Ellen looked directly at Dean. "Apparently I'm doing mighty fine, if the young stallion over there thought I was Jo."
Dean laughed at himself, even though he felt the blush creeping across his freckles and up to his ears. "I'd say so, Diana," he said, coming over to hug Ellen himself. And he did not, no matter what Sam might have said later, use his six feet towering over Ellen to sneak a peek down her corset top.
Nothing got past Ellen, though, and Dean was sure she could tell. He made his way quickly over to the bar, and sat down. Covering his embarrassment, Dean asked, "A Halloween party? Really, Ellen?"
Ellen sidled up next to him at the bar and called for Jo from the back. "Better than being out there messing with stupid people thinking tonight's the night to fuck with the supernatural. I got the place locked up, so no people, and warded out the ass, so no surprise visitors. Thought it might be nice to see everyone without an impending apocalypse."
Jo came barreling out the kitchen door, long scrappy skirt trailing behind her, to bee-line for Sam with a hug. She was pale, pancaked white, even her hair was gray and pulled up into a bun. Dean recognized the outfit, once Jo pushed the little half-glasses hanging off her neck by a chain. "Nice, Jo. Ghostbusters librarian."
Jo smiled at Dean warmly, pressed a kiss to his cheek with a "Hi!," and then turned her attention back to Sam, leading him to a table in the corner with a couple younger hunters (two female) already seated. Dean rapped his knuckles on the bar smartly, saying "Okay," and turning his attention back to Ellen. "Shots?" he asked, smiling wider when she reached behind the bar for two glasses and a bottle.
S&D/S&D/S&D/S&D/S&D
The party went on far past midnight. About 20 hunters and family had stopped in and out, and the 2 AM closing time left about 5 there, including Dean. Sam and Jo had disappeared with the younger crowd a couple hours earlier, with Ellen's permission, much to Dean's surprise. He wasn't sure where they were headed—tipping cows, or shooting things, or some such, he was sure—but he didn't question. Sam was his brother, not his kid.
Ellen had played hostess, but somehow kept ending up next to Dean's bar stool.
Are we going to have sex tonight or what?
Dean stutters, sure?
So why didn't you just ask me? Am I too old for you, baby boy?
Hell no you are still HOT
Is it cause of your daddy and me?
It wasn't but thanks for those images
Then why the hell are we dancing this jig all night and you never spoke up? Aren't you the playboy brother?
Dean doesn't have much of an answer—his usual hookups are different—not hunters—they approach him, or do with an obvious look from him
Oh you've never had to work to get laid have you
Didn't say that, just, different dynamics
Well ilm no college coed or dumb small town waitress I know who and what you are thought I'd made that plain no offense if you aren't interested but an actual verbal answer would be nice
He shakes his head at first (non verbal)