Title: The Lair of the Vampires: a Sam and David Weston Novel
Rating: 14A, much like I think the series is, because Dean needs that much of a rating to be legal.
Author: The Personfication of Fluff, breaking out of her territory into humour
Disclaimer: I do not own Dean, Sammy, or Supernatural, nor am I making money. But I wish I did. Own Dean, not make money.
Summary: Tired of hearing my friends rant about Wincest (seriously, almost turned me off of the show and ff for SN), I decided to do a spoof of fanfics and the show. Imagine if a fanfic writer got a hold of the license somehow and wrote serializations of the series? Yeah. Oh Dear Lord. Actually, I think that's a little nicer than what Dean says on the subject matter.
Dedications: For Lacey, who owns the series and supports me for liking Dean Winchester. And for Heather, who puts up with us teasing her for not liking Dean.
The Lair of the Vampires: a Sam and David Weston Novel
Sam and Dean Winchester stormed down the hallway. The first had the look of a wounded puppy; the second looked simply pissed. It was no wondering why people moved out of their way.
Only one woman stopped them, sticking on a bright smile. "Hello. Welcome to Tor Fantasy novels. Is there something with which I can help you today?"
Sam opened his mouth to speak, but Dean beat him to it. "Yeah," he said, loud enough to draw attention to himself. "Where's Ashley Winston's office?"
The woman was taken aback. "What do you want with Miss Winston?"
The brother exchanged looks with each other. Sam answered this time. "We're unimpressed readers of hers."
Miss Ashley Winston was a well-dressed young woman with her hair chopped into a cute pixie cut. Like most of the other women in the office building, she wore glasses, but hers were small, thin things, as if she were denying they were there. It was a stylish, successful woman who greeted them, not they-teary eyed, pale and shaky woman they had left the year before in New York City following a vampire attack.
She smiled when she saw them. "Sam, Dean. It's a pleasure and a surprise to see you again!" She greeted each Winchester with a hug, but only Sam was kind enough to return it. "I never thought I'd see you again."
Sam shrugged. His voice was soft, particularly when compared to Dean's. "We never thought we'd see you again, either."
"Yeah." Dean cracked his neck and arched an eyebrow. He reached into his brown leather jacket and pulled out a hard cover book. He threw it down on the desk, glaring at her. She flinched. Dean's anger made him stiff, but his green eyes reminded the authoress of lines from cheesy romance novels. "But then we were hunting a ghost in California and found our latest client—and I use the term loosely since we don't get paid for this—reading that. The Lair of the Vampires: a Sam and David Weston Novel."
She stared at the book, then looked at both boys, crossing her arms over her chest. "I don't see what the problem is."
"You ripped off our names, our identities…"
Dean was nodding. He picked the book back up. "Do you want to be known as…" His mouth opened once or twice and no sound came out. Then he spat it out: "'the older Weston brother with a chest like Adonis and green eyes that blazed when he was angry'?"
"And the main character is basically you, with your pixie cut and everything."
"Although you might have stretched it a bit when said that you had a body like Betty Page," Dean criticized, eyeing her.
Sam continued. "Worse, you put yourself in danger. What do you think vampires would do if they read this? You basically detailed a handbook on how to hunt them and kill them."
"Yes, I did. Something bad happened to me, and I found a way to turn it around."
"While adding in a lot of gratuitous sex between you and me." Dean glared at her reprovingly, which she blatantly ignored, until it got to be annoying.
"Look, vampires sell. Werewolves sell. Sex sells, especially when the individual involved is a tortured soul concerned only with his brother's welfare," Ashley said. "Female readers like a man who can protect them but who cares about others; the kind of man whose sweet, but aggressive."
Sam stuck his hands in his pockets, standing just behind his brother, and huffed. "Yeah, well, you still ripped off our identities. You still put yourself in danger."
"Sammy," she sighed, "if it's a fantasy novel. No one but vampires and other hunters will know it's true, and they can use it to learn from there. And do you honestly think that other hunters would read a trashy romance novel?"
Dean arched an eyebrow, his deep voice lightening with sarcasm. "Oh, so you recognize it's trash."
Ashley shot him a dirty look. Then she smiled at him smugly. "Did you know what when we test launched the book people reacted badly to your name? That's why it became David."
"Yeah, well, you kept my name," Sam pointed out.
"Whoa, Sammy, let's keep an eye on what's important." Dean held up a hand for Sam to be quiet. He paused. "What the hell is wrong with Dean for a name?"
"Look, I understand you boys are mad. That's why I'm prepared to make you a deal. The subtitle of this book is A Sam and David Weston Novel, not The Sam and David Weston Novel. My publishers are begging me for a sequel. Due to these finicky things like…" She wriggled her fingers, rolling her eyes, "characters, I'm prepared to offer your boys a large sum of money for your services. You boys tell me a story of yours and let me publish it as the second book, and I'll offer you fifteen percent. Think about it. You boys aren't getting paid for this, but you could be."
Dean was still furious, but Sam lifted his head a little, his bangs falling back to reveal rational hazel eyes. "How much did you make off this book?" he inquired.
Ashley's face lit up with pride. "As of yesterday, two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Sales are still climbing and they would increase with a second book on the market. I can write you boys a check right now."
Dean's lips were moving as he calculated that in his head. His shoulders rolled. "Two grand? I can make that much in a night in Vegas in one game of poker."
"Um… Dean? You forgot a decimal place. It's twenty-three thousand dollars she's offering us, not two grand."
"What?" His voice was a bark. "Twenty-three grand just because she writes about vampires and sex?"
Ashley was smirking. "I have the magic touch, I guess." She batted her lashes. "Should I write the check?"
"One second." Dean grabbed his brother and pulled him into a corner of the office. He talked in a rushed whisper, hand in his leather pockets defensively. Sam knew what was coming, but he was still shocked. "Twenty-three grand can buy a lot of bullets, Sammy. And a lot of meals that don't come heated in a Kwik-E-Mart."
"Yeah, but Dean, it's about more than that, than vampires or hunters. The things we do, they're all about finding Mom's killer. He has eyes and ears everywhere. If we let too much slide, the yellow-eyed demon could be after her next. They use humans. They'd read this."
"Sammy," Dean growled with feverish eyes, "twenty-three thousand dollars. That's a lot of grease on a lot of wheels."
He still didn't think that it was a good idea, but he could see Dean did. Even shaking his head as he was, Sam couldn't miss the way Dean was smiling. His brother had already made up his mind, and so Sam Winchester played the only card he could, turning his back to Ashley. "Dean... She wrote about you and her having sex. She's pimped you out."
Dean eyed her. She was checking her nails for dirt. "Yeah. She made me an Adonis. I don't know what it is, but it sounds good. Oh. Wait." Dean approached Ashley, one hand still in his pockets. "My brother is a little jealous that I'm getting all the action. Think you can write him up a blonde in the sequel?" He stuck out his hand.
"Deal!"
Almost a year later, coming out of Seattle in a rainstorm, the brothers saw the second book for sale. Dean bought it on a whim, telling Sammy, "Look, we got it for forty percent off. We made fifteen percent on it. I figure we made a good deal on it. Now, read it to me while I drive. I feel like a laugh. And be sincere!"
The book was hilarious. Dean had to pull over when, in chapter four, the cute blonde told Sammy she liked him for his "well of sensitivity" and "your brown eyes, which remind me of a lost puppy dog". Sam nearly peed himself when they switched drivers and Dean read the girl's part in a forced falsetto, adlibbing in real moans during a raunchy sex scene. When they reached another sex scene, Dean laughed when Sam was on the bottom, chucking him in the shoulder.
"She's riding you like a horse, man!"
"Yeah, well, at least I don't have a girl mooning over 'moss-green eyes which mask an earnest heart'," Sam replied, rolling his eyes.
When they got to the end, both of them were near tears at the cheesy lines. Sam suddenly stopped reading. "Oh… no," he groaned softly. Sam sat up in his seat. "dean, listen:
"She clung to him pleasing. "Why do you have to go, Sam?"
"'Because… it's a family matter.'
"'Sammy!'
"He looked at her with eyes full of remorse and pain, ignoring David waiting by the Impala. 'Something killed my mom. We don't have much, but we know it's a demon—a demon with yellow eyes. We have to find him and kill him.'
"'Will I ever see you again?' she asked, tears rolling down her cheeks.
"He reached out to touch her face, and couldn't help but kiss her one last time. It was a kiss goodbye. It was a kiss Heather would never—could never—forget. She watched them drive away, Sam never looking over her shoulder. The yellow-eyed demon was out there somewhere, and they could not rest until he was dead."
Sam stared at the book. "She heard me. I can't believe she heard me and took it."
He was thrown against the Impala's window as Dean suddenly pulled a u-turn. His hands were gripping the steering wheel tightly. "I'm going to kill her."
The End
