It's a Boy/Girl Thing.
Chapter one- Anything you can do, I can do better.
It had all started in the musty back room in the Stoneybrook Museum that smelled the stale smell or old books, rats and a lack of regular ventilation. It was out of the way, further then most of the visitors had the energy to go, and was like the gap under the bed, where all the odd bits and pieces, and the old, less interesting displays were stashed, to make way for all the limited time only exhibitions, and the newer, modern crowd-friendly displays that filled the many rooms that were within walking distance of the big, decorative entrance.
Dean and Sam, and Jo it seemed, had come to this side of Connecticut to investigate an old rumour of double disappearances, and strange behaviour linked with the room, which they had quickly found out was only temporary, though varying in lengths of time, that usually ended up with the couple in a honeymoon suite and then living happily ever after. But, as hunters, it was the done thing to check out the room anyway.
That's how Dean and Jo had ended up in front of the big, stupid statue of some pagan god, possibly Aztec or Mayan, while Sam had been getting his geek off over some old excuse for a book he had found.
"Why don't you and Sam just go find your own hunt, Dean? I was here first." Jo snapped back at some stupid remark that Dean had made about the fact she had chosen to wear her hair in braids, which had been part of her latest guise to pry information she needed for the case. Dean and Sam weren't the only ones in the room who regularly committed identity fraud, even if they were only ones with a police record for it.
"Whoa, sorry Jo. Did we catch you at the wrong time of the month?" Dean shot back, slightly hurt that she wasn't so happy to see him, though he would never have admitted that, being the big, strong, no-chick-flick-moments, playboy hunter that he was.
"Fuck you, Dean!" Jo's voice rose to a level not too far below a shriek. "You fucking chauvinistic bastard. You think your all man, just because you have that waste of fossil fuel on wheels that you're so fond of!"
"Don't bring my baby into this stupid little tantrum of yours." Dean growled. Be glad you're a girl, he thought angrily, or you'd have a black eye and a few broken ribs by now.
Jo was about to sock Dean, when a strange smoke wafted out of the statue, causing her to cough.
"What cough fuck?"
After the initial shock had worn off, Dean pried his brother away from the stinky, old pile of papers that had once been a book and dragged him out of the Museum, realising that it was best to shag ass before they got busted for breaking the bloody decrepit statue. Jo, similar concern in mind, made a timely and discrete disappearance, determined never to see the Winchesters again.
The next morning, a strange feeling coursed through Jo's veins, and swam in the bottom of her stomach, as she lay on the motel bed, half asleep. She slowly sat up, groggily wondering why there seemed to be something not quite right.
The door opened, letting the smell of strong, fresh caffeine waft into the room, followed by Sam who was casually holding donuts and coffee.
"Hey, you're awake. I have breakfast," the tall man greeted her, as if it was completely natural for him to waltz into her room in the early hours of the morning.
"What are you doing here?" Jo squealed, standing up with every intention of forcibly kicking his ass out.
"Oh, my god." Jo suddenly realised she was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. She looked down.
"Oh, my god! They're gone!!"
Sam just stared at the body of his brother, wondering what the fuck he was going on about.
"Dean? Are you okay?"
Jo just stared at him in confusion.
"Dean? I'm not- oh, fuck." Jo fell backwards onto the bed.
"This is not good. This is so not good. I'm a fucking man!"
Sam just looked at the thing that, only last night, had been his brother, and pulled the canister of holy water from his bag on the floor…
Dean was forced awake as REO Speed wagon spilled into the small motel room. Groggily, he reached for the phone, with a lazy note-to-Dean to kill Sam, later, for his lousy taste.
"Huh?" He croaked, his voice higher then he thought it possible to go. Wow, I must have some hangover, he thought, especially as I don't remember drinking anything last night, besides the beer at dinner.
"Honey, sorry, did I wake you?" Ellen's cheerful voice came tumbling out of the phone. What the fuck?
"Uh, What? Ellen?" Dean asked, as he sat up and caught a glimpse of his reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall.
"Fucking son of a," Dean swore as he dropped the phone, hanging it up in the process.
"Bitch!"
This had to be some sort of nightmare, Dean decided, as he fell backwards onto the bed and closed his eyes. His reasoning was that if he went to sleep in the dream, he would wake up and he would be himself again, with all the right appendages.
Then, the phone started to ring again.
Jo glared at Sam, as she lay, sopping, on the bed.
"I'm not a fucking demon," She spat out, throwing a disgruntled look at Sam, who quickly painted his face with the most innocent look he could summon.
"I'm Jo. Or, at least, I was when I fell asleep last night," She sighed, wondering where Dean was, if she was in his body.
"Oh crap. I guess that means Dean is now me."
Sam raised an eyebrow, wondering whether or not to believe what looked, very much, like his elder brother. However, it didn't take long for the nerd side of his brain to kick in.
"This would explain the 'strange behaviour and disappearances'," Sam explained, feeling incredibly smart, like a five year old reading his first sentence. Jo nodded.
"I have to call Dean."
After the time it took to pull on some clothes, drive to the museum, and find their way to the back room, Dean and Jo stood in each other's bodies, yelling all the curse words and insults they knew at the statue.
"It's a god of mischief. That explains it." The voice of the younger, taller, geeky-er Winchester cut into their angry rant.
"You guys were fighting, it was probably trying to impart some wisdom onto you."
Dean swore, and kicked the statue.
"Wisdom, my ass, you son of a bitch!"
Jo laughed, sadly. She really wanted to kill that statue.
"Maybe we should salt and burn it?" She suggested, then realising the complications with burning a solid, stone statue, as both brother's raised an eyebrow at her.
"Well you, Dean, aren't doing a better job! Kicking it didn't do anything, did it?" Jo snapped, as Dean laughed at her.
"Oh, maybe I have a temper when I'm mad, and maybe there isn't much I can do in this case, as it is temporary. But on most occasions, I can do just about anything better then you!" Dean grinned, mocking her.
"Oh, you think you would make a better girl then me? I bet you won't last the week!" Jo baited, suddenly remembering what time of the month it was. Oh, Dean was in for a golly good time.
"I bet you a drink, that I do survive the week. And I bet you another drink that I can pick up a guy better then you." Dean was confident; after all he knew what guys liked.
"How about, dinner and drinks for all three of us: drinks on if you survive the week without complaint, or asking me any questions about how to do anything related to that body of mine; Dinner on if you can find me a decent boyfriend," Jo smiled, she wasn't going to lose.
"You're on," Dean grinned. This would be easy.