Well, I'm glad that this story is actually getting a little coverage. Honestly, I didn't expect anyone to read it at all. However, I'm pleasantly surprised. :) Anyway, I'd love if you'd comment to tell me what you think of it so far. I don't usually write things like this, so it would really rock my world to hear anything you've got to say about it. Right now it's just sort of like... alright... people have seen it... now what?

Anyway, thank you for the support you give by just following, favoriting, reading. :) Reviews are love! Thanks. -LF


I have a basement bedroom. I'm the only one that lives downstairs because my older brother and my folks live two floors above. I start college soon, and then I can move out.. but for now I'm stuck huddling by my little space heater for warmth when it gets too cold down here. I mean, I can't complain about all of it. I'm a midnight snacker, and most of the food is stored downstairs, including a pretty big pantry and the freezer (where all the ice cream is). We always have a lot of food, but it's a force of habit for my old man. I have some older siblings that have already left. Soon, that'll be me. There's a pretty good sized window just above my bed that opens out to the ground level, but I always have it closed. It's cold enough with it shut.

It's always been a fear of mine that someone will break into my window and kill me in my sleep or something. Which is why, as I hope you understand, I nearly screamed when there was a knocking on the glass early in the morning.

"W-what the hell!?" I stuttered, struggling to pull the window open, still not fully awake.

"Rise and shine" greeted the cheery Scottish accent, "I've brought presents."

Crowley- well, the demon wearing Crowley's skin, was crouched in front of my window, looking a little more humble than he had the other day. Being so low to the ground somehow felt fitting for him. Or maybe that was me feeling a little masochistic. "What are you doing? It's barely six a.m.!"

"I told you to expect me." he retorted.

"No," I fought, "You said to expect a "package". Unless you're delivering yourself, I'd say that was a lousy white lie."

He chuckled, "As if I'd gift myself to you. Dream on darling."

Pompous bastard.

He pointed a finger behind me, rolling his eyes when I refused to turn my head. I didn't trust him. The fact he was a demon put aside, he was a creep at my window at six thirty in the morning, wanting me to turn the opposite direction. In movies, this is the scene where the murderer pulls out his chloroform and kidnaps the stupid blonde. I'm not a Hollywood bimbo first of all, and wasn't going to fall for it.

"Just look." he groaned, "It's just the package I promised you."

I scooted backward on my bed a little before finally deciding it was a respectable distance to turn my head. A box. The kind of box you'd see on the high shelves of a Costco or an Ikea; the ones that held the large pieces of furniture. Hell, it was almost the size of my bed. "Told you." Crowley said, suddenly on the opposite side of the brown cardboard box.

"How did-"

"Demon, sweetheart." he grinned, gesturing once more to the box, "Going to open it?"

It wasn't taped closed, in fact the cardboard flaps opened up with ease, revealing an unnerving sight.

Now, I'm sure it's every girls' dream that their favorite television star will just show up on their doorstep with a bouquet of roses and reveal their undying love, but.. the sickening reality of Jensen Ackles, folded up in a cardboard box made me drop my jaw. His knees were tight against his chest, his body just barely managing to squeeze into the box. Like someone had stuffed a doll version of him in there, and shipped it to me. "Wh- What the hell is this!?"

"Your on-call boyfriend." he chuckled, shoving his hands into the black pockets of his long coat with a smug grin.

"It's Jensen Ackles..."

"It's Dean Winchester." he corrected.

I was trying to find words. God, my life was so messed up. How was I supposed to make any sense of something like this? "Is... is this the real Jensen?"

"Of course not." he replied, rolling his eyes once more, "Just looks like him."

"A-and... is he alright? Sleeping?" I asked, poking at one of his legs curiously. It felt fleshy...

Crowley shook his head, "Just turned off. He'll be up and at'em just as soon as you active him."

"Activate him?"

"Of course," he grinned, "You wanted a boyfriend to command at will, so naturally, he responds to your commands. You've simply got to call him."

I frowned, "What, like a dog? Here Jensen, good boy Jensen!" I mocked, wearing my own cocky grin when the demon actually chuckled.

"If you wish, but I do believe most men don't like to be summoned like a puppy. He won't respond to Jensen either love, Dean Winchester is his name."

"Alright..." I replied, biting my lower lip for a moment as I contemplated actually calling his name, "...Dean."

Instantly, the man's eyes opened, becoming fully aware of his surroundings as he sat up in the box, all the time keeping his eyes trained directly on me. It was awkward to describe... You might not think about it, but everyone has some sort of body language. Slouchers, stiff sitters, the works, but... it was like looking at a crossbreed of a robot and a love sick puppy staring at it's master. It gave me chills.

When he replied by saying my name, I was knocked out of thought and back into a oh-my-god-this-shit-is-actually-happening moment.

His voice was the same; that deep, slightly rough, manly one that just made everything he said extremely sexy. He'd said my name in that voice... I hadn't even realized I was blushing until Crowley pointed it out with an overly-satisfied smirk. He was still a pompous bastard.

Dean was still just... staring at me. I didn't know what to do. He wasn't moving, and I didn't have a thing to say to him. I passed my glance between him and Crowley before the demon huffed, "Try saying drat."

I frowned, confused, "Drat?"

The body in front of me fell limp and leaned towards me. I caught him by the shoulders, tapping his cheek a few times before realizing he was a lifeless as he'd been in the box when I first opened it. "That's how you turn him off." Crowley muttered, once more raising his wrist into eyesight.

"Drat?" I questioned.

He shrugged, "A word no one uses, but you could still introduce it casually."

"This shit is messed up on so many levels..." I groaned, carefully trying to pull Dean out of the box, my limited strength not doing much for me.

"Get used to it darling."

"Anything else I should know?"

His lips tugged into a bit of a cocky smile, "You're the only one that sees him as your beloved Dean Winchester. To everyone else he's just a handsome stranger, about your age."

"O-okay..."

"I've got to be off, but if you're not satisfied, or run into a problem, I'm sure you know how to contact me."

"Wait but, I don't-"

And he was gone once again, leaving me with an out of order Dean Winchester lying in my lap. Lovely way to start the day.