This story is based off of the tv show Supernatural. Though the story is mine, the names and mannerisms of the characters are not.
"Damn it, Sam," said Dean.
Behind the wheel of the Impala, Dean Winchester writhed in his seat.
Sam threw his head back and laughed. "Okay, okay, bad joke, maybe we should just take you to the doctor for this one."
"What the hell's a doctor gonna do? They'll think I'm nuts. I mean, what am I going to say, 'hey Doc, I slept with a demon last night, a succubus actually, her name was Lilin. And…well…the bitch gave me an invisible STD alright Doc?' You see where I'm comin' from Sam?"
"Okay, well let's call Bobby then."
"Already did, says he ain't heard of anything like it. Then he called me an idjit. But come on, how was I supposed to know she was a demon?"
"Well you knew she was a hooker. That didn't give you enough information to work with?"
Dean glanced over at Sam. Sam didn't bother to return the glance.
"Even Dad wouldn't know how to handle this one," said Dean.
"So how did you find out she was a demon anyway?"
"When I was getting dressed."
Dean thought back to the night before…
"Well, Mr. Winchester, your reputation certainly precedes you," she said, as she tied her corset back together.
"How did you know my name?"
Her eyes changed black like a doll's, and a sinister smile crept across her face.
"Crowley sends his regards."
"You bitch," he said, "you know I ain't payin' you a nickel right?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "No matter. I'd ask for my gift back, but, sorry, no refunds on that one." She began to walk away. Her smooth legs were a mile long, and her high heels clicked across the wood floor.
"Gift, what gift?" Suddenly, Dean felt a burning sensation on the tip of his…
He fell on the bed, squirming in pain. He thought of hell, and wished he was there instead.
"Goodbye Dean. You might want to get that looked at."
"BITCH! I'll kill you, and then I'm going to gank Crowley, that two-faced son of-a—
Dean couldn't finish the sentence.
"Wow, that's.."
"Shut up, Sam. Who are you calling?"
"Crowley," he said, putting the phone to his ear.
"Give me the phone, Sam."
"No."
"Sam, give me the—
Dean tensed, and the Impala swerved on the late night road.
"Crowley, what the hell?" Said Sam.
"Hello, Mutton Chops," said Crowley on the phone.
"That's screwed up what you did to Dean, you know we're coming after you next right?"
"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Sam."
"The succubus Crowley, don't play dumb with me."
"Oh, you mean Lilin," said Crowley, resuming his typical King of The Crossroads tone.
"How was she, did Dean enjoy his experience? You know, after all, I am her pimp, and if…"
"Shut it Crowley, how do we cure it?"
"Oh wouldn't you like to know? Tell me, how bad does Dean want to be free of it?"
Sam looked over at Dean, who could barely look over the steering wheel.
"Just tell me what we have to do."
"Do you smell a deal, Sam?"
Sam's fist clenched.
"Have your little Angel friend in the Columbo coat meet me tonight, he knows where. Though, he may require some convincing. If he does that, Dean's…Winchester will be locked and loaded and ready for action."
"Crowley, we haven't heard from Cas in months, we've tried calling him—
"That's the deal, Sam take it or leave it."
Crowley hung up.
"Damn it!" Said Sam, bringing his fist down on the dashboard.
Dean had pulled over and his head was resting on the steering wheel.
"Well?" He mouthed.
"You're not going to like it."
To be continued….