Okay, then, since we've got a wee bit of interest as to where this might go, I'm game if you are - I am still working on 'Can You Dig It?', true dinks. It's the fault of the wretches who keep shooing plot bunnies in my direction...
Chapter 2
"Er, not really," replied Ronnie, eyeing the older Winchester dubiously. "Unless you count chupacabra guts. I think it was suffering from some sort of stomach upset. Somebody it ate must've disagreed with it." She picked self-consciously at her hair. "I thought I'd gotten it all out, but it's worse than okami bile..." she looked back to the horrified expressions on Sam's and Bobby's faces. "Er, have I just walked into a meeting of the Friends Of Chupacabras Club?" she asked, perplexed.
"What are you doing here?" asked Sam, in resigned despair. "How did you get in?"
"I have some stuff for Bobby," she replied, holding up a small bag, "Werewolf teeth. Got a C1 canine, this time. Serious mojo in these things. And I came through the front door." She looked from one to the other. "Er, do I have something really nasty on my head? Besides chupacabra guts, I mean. Because if you lot don't stop looking at me like that, I'm going to start splashing holy water around..." She took in the two horrified faces, and the one smiling one. "Especially at him."
"We got a problem, Ronnie," Bobby sighed heavily, "And now, it's your problem too."
"He got hit by a Prince Charming spell," explained Sam, "And we've been keeping him stashed here until it wore off, except..." he gestured helplessly at her.
Ronnie frowned. "Why the hell didn't you ward the place against women?" she asked. "Not like you to be that sloppy, Bobby."
"They did," smiled Dean, "Not just against women, but against anything female, except the dogs. Good thing they screwed up, huh?"
"We didn't screw up," countered Sam hotly, "It was working! Bobby, how the hell did..."
"Ahem," said Bobby pointedly to Sam, with a brief but meaningful bout of eyebrow semaphore.
Sam's brain caught up with his mouth. "Oh. Oh. Er." He subsided. "Er, yeah, we must've screwed it up. And here you are."
Ronnie looked from Sam to Dean, then burst out laughing.
"Oh, this is too funny!" she said eventually, "Of all the people to get hit! Of all the women for him to see! Oh, fuck me, this is priceless!" She subsided a bit at the angry look on Sam's face. "Oh, come on, it's a bit funny."
Dean was watching her, entranced. "You should smile like that more often," he said, "You have the most gorgeous smile." That set Ronnie off again.
"Oh, I like him like this!" she positively giggled. "You can be a friendly little fella when you want to be, can't you?"
To Sam's horror, Dean let The Killer Smile slide into place. "You have no idea how friendly I can be," he purred, "And I like to think I'm very choosy about who I get friendly with." That set her off into gales of laughter again.
"Ronnie, this is not funny," growled Sam.
"Yes it is. It's frigging hilarious."
"No, it's not," Bobby backed him up sternly, "And don't you go making it worse, or I swear, woman, I will shoot you full of si... several rounds." Ronnie subsided, and cleared her throat.
"Yeah, okay, you're right. I'm sorry. No, I'm not really, but... okay, let's just fix this." She turned to Dean. "I am going to have such fun ragging your arse about this for the next… well, forever, really. Get your phone ready, Sam, I want a picture of the look on his face when this curse lifts. Come on, then, Casanova, you know what to do?"
Dean's face lit up like a dog offered a marrow bone. "Ohhhh, yeah," he breathed, the Killer Smile cranking up another hundred watts or so.
"Right." Ronnie turned her face, offering a cheek. "Lay it on me, Prince Charming."
"No, wait, it's not like..." began Sam. But it was too late.
Dean closed the distance between them, and swept Ronnie into A Kiss.
It was a kiss that could've stopped time, ended worlds, or made the Earth move. It was a kiss that made the beach scene in 'From Here To Eternity' look like a short bout of hand-holding. It was a kiss that would've melted the heart of the White Witch of Narnia. It would've made Rudolph Valentino hand in his arab head-dress. It was a kiss that had turned women across the US into quivering, wanton she-demons of the bedroom. It was a kiss that would have Deangirls squeeing until windows shattered. It was Dean Winchester kissing Like He Meant it.
Bobby gawped in startled horror. Sam heard a small shriek, and realised that it had come from himself.
Several seconds later, another shriek sounded, much louder, from Ronnie this time.
"AAAAARGH!" she screeched, face a picture of terrified confusion. "YAAAAAARGH! His TONGUE! His TONGUE! IT went right into my MOUTH!" She stared wildly from Sam to Bobby and back again, then let out another shriek as words failed her. "That's... AAAARGH! That's DISGUSTING!" She stared in horror at Dean. "You... you... you... weirdo!" Her eyes narrowed as she glared at him. "If you are pranking me, Winchester," she breathed dangerously, "I swear, I will tear you limb from limb, eat your heart, and use your blood as hair setting lotion..."
Dean sighed, besotted. "You really are magnificent when you're angry," he said dreamily.
"Ronnie!" snapped Bobby, "Stop it! That won't work! Just calm down..."
"Calm down? CALM DOWN? After that sick bastard did... THAT? What the hell was that about?" she demanded shrilly of Dean.
"That was us just gettin' warmed up," he told her, still beaming. Ronnie let out another little shriek, and scuttled behind Bobby. Dean looked confused.
"This spell is a bit more than your average Prince Charming curse," Bobby told her. "Now, I think we all need to sit down, and calm down, and discuss this like adults." They sat, Sam positioning himself between Dean and Ronnie on the sofa, as Bobby explained the nasty details of this particular curse.
"Jesus suffering fuck," breathed Ronnie in disbelief. Her eyes darted desperately around the room, a cornered animal looking for a way out. "Right, I'm out of here," she announced, standing up and calling Joni.
Dean looked stricken. "But you only just got here," he said, in a bewildered tone.
"I have to go," she insisted, backing away nervously, "I'm expected, Ian needs me to back him up on a job…"
Dean was on his feet, eyes narrowed in suspicion. In alarm, Sam recognised his brother going into Predator mode.
"Who the hell is Ian?" Dean asked quietly, dangerously.
"What? He's a Hunt buddy! I team up with him sometimes. He's like the big brother I never had. Why the hell am I justifying this to you?" She turned back to Bobby, pleading, "Bobby, he thinks it could be werewolves, more than one, he needs my… expertise." More eyebrow aerobics followed.
"Ian is a big boy," Bobby told her sternly, "And he doesn't take any crap from werewolves, as well you know…" his eyebrows did their own gymnastics routine (with half twist in the pike position).
"Bobby," Ronnie tried again, "It's full moon in a couple of days." waggle-waggle.
"Yeah, but that's not going to be a problem for us, here, is it?" asked Sam. waggle-waggle?
"No, of course not," said Bobby firmly, looking at Ronnie. "I'm sure it'll all be under control." waggle-WAGGLE-waggle.
"See? You can stay here!" chirped Dean happily. His expression turned briefly confused again. "Sam, is there something wrong with your face?"
"You sit your ass down, woman," rumbled Bobby authoritatively, "And have a nice hot cup of calm the fuck down. You aint goin' anywhere until we figure out a way to fix this."
"You have to be kidding," said Ronnie in disbelief, "I'm not staying in the same grid square as Rabid Romeo here, let alone under the same roof!"
"No point runnin', he'll just follow you," noted Bobby matter-of-factly, "And his Baby will outrun your pick-up, and you know it."
"Ronnie, you have to stay!" Sam told her anxiously. "You heard Bobby, he'll go nuts! Become homicidal, suicidal, or both!"
"Hmmmm, Dean Winchester acting homicidal or suicidal – how will we tell?" she asked tartly.
"Look, it'll just be for a few days, while me and Bobby figure something out," Sam assured her. "Please." He deployed the puppy-dog eyes, hoping that someone who had Hunted with dogs for so long would be susceptible to that sort of blackmail.
"This is in your job description, Ronnie," Bobby reminded her, "Save the humans from the things that go bump in the night. Well, a nasty curse is pretty damned big bump."
"Come on, Ronnie, don't go - things bumping in the night isn't always bad," leered Dean, with a distinctly different sort of eyebrow waggle.
Ronnie groaned, and dropped heavily back onto the sofa. "Oh, God, a conscience is a dreadful thing to be burdened with. You owe me for this, Singer." She looked at Dean. "So, I'll hang around and help save the human from the bump," she agreed. Then her voice turned into an actual whine. "But who's going to save me from him?"
Sam sat down next to her, and tried to be encouraging. "Look, we have the witch's book, this will only take a few days, absolute tops," he told her, "And I can tell you, wild horses won't get him to admit it out loud, but Dean is in fact a gentleman. He has never forced himself on a woman, and he's not about to start now. Are you, Dean?" Sam glared meaningfully at his brother.
Dean looked suitably outraged at the thought. "No!" he declared emphatically. "No! Absolutely not! I don't operate that way. I don't have to." He went back to beaming adoringly at Ronnie.
"See?" Sam told her, "You'll be perfectly safe. The whole, um, kiss thing, was just a, uh, misunderstanding, when you said, you know, he should do it. We're all adults here, we can talk about this, and deal."
"O-okay," Ronnie didn't sound completely convinced. "I guess I'd better get my stuff."
"I'll give you a hand," said Dean immediately, springing up.
"No!" she yelped. "No! Sit! Stay!" Dean dropped back to the sofa, still smiling.
"Okay," he agreed, grinning. "If I roll over, will you scratch my belly?"
Ronnie let out a terrified squeak and fled, Joni hot on her heels.
Bobby let out the breath he'd been holding. "Well, looks like our luck might be in after all, if the Dean Winchester Code Of Honour will still hold in the face of this curse." He frowned at Dean. "It will hold, won't it?" he asked.
Dean looked affronted. "I'm insulted, Bobby," he said in a hurt voice. "It's not like I'm going to jump on her."
"Good." grunted Bobby.
"Not until she realises how much she wants me," finished Dean smugly, "Then she'll jump on me."
"Oh, God," sighed Sam, head dropping into his hands. "Dean, you have to remember, it's a curse making you behave this way. The curse, remember?"
"Yeah, I know, the Prince Charming curse. Making me fall head over heels for the first woman I see." Dean's smile was blinding. "How damned lucky that it happened to be the right one for me who walked into it, huh? What are the odds of that?"
"Kill me now," groaned Sam, as Ronnie reappeared with a bag on one shoulder.
"Room at the end of the hall," Bobby told her.
"I'm going to bed. Alone," she announced with a yawn. She fixed Dean with a glare, baring her teeth. "If you get within ten feet of the door of my room," she said softly, "I will tear your head off, shit down your neck, use your pancreas for a bookmark, tap-dance on your liver and make earrings out of your balls before scooping your brains out of your skull with a spoon and using it for a bowling ball." She bade Sam and Bobby goodnight, and headed upstairs, followed by her dog.
Dean sighed, the dreamy look back on his face. "Oh, yeah," he smiled to himself, "She wants me."
This could get really silly. So, Bartlebead has them up a tree, aeicha insists that 'Dean nudity is something that must always be explored'. Any other requests?
Reviews are the Gratuitous Nudity in the FanFiction Of Life!