Author's Notes: Thanks so very much to everyone who's been to kind to leave a review! The times between chapters can be kinda long, I know. Can't help that… Real Life and all. But this story will get done! It just may take a bit.

Disclaimer: Don't own anyone you recognize, including Sam, Dean & Bobby, or anybody else that you recognize (sniffle). The Original Characters are mine.

Spoilers: Season Four, but set after "Wishful Thinking". In other words, yes, this is Post-Hell Dean.

Language warning: Here there be cussing. Which if you've been reading my stuff, really shouldn't shock you anymore

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PlatinumRoseLady: Okay, guys, let's get Chapter Four on the road! I – (Notices that there seems to be one less Winchester brother around than there should be) Sam, where's Dean?

Sam: Um, yeah. (Chuckles uneasily) Well, you know, there's a really funny story behind that, Platinum…

PlatinumRoseLady: (Eyes narrowing; she's not liking this) Oh, really. I can't wait to hear it.

Sam: Well, you remember what you told us last chapter? How people have done much worse things to Dean than turning him into a kitten? (Platinum nods) So he took your advice and read some of those stories… actually a lot of them.

PlatinumRoseLady: (She's liking this less and less) Go on.

Sam: (Sighs) He totally freaked out and now he's locked himself in the Impala.

PlatinumRoseLady: (Now it's her turn to sigh. Pinches the bridge of her nose to stave off the oncoming headache) Fan-fucking-tastic.

Sam: Hey, what happened to no swearing before the story starts?

PlatinumRoseLady: The fact that you have an idiot for a brother.

Dean: (His voice sounds a little far-off) HEY! I can still HEAR you, you know!

PlatinumRoseLady: Dean, get out here.

Dean: No way!

PlatinumRoseLady: Winchester, this stopped being funny about five seconds ago. Now get your ass out here and let's get this chapter going! People are waiting.

Dean: Forget it! They can wait all they want!

PlatinumRoseLady: Fine. I didn't want to do this… (Snaps her fingers)

(Dean yelps. Sam's eyes get really wide as he stares at Platinum)

Sam: You didn't.

PlatinumRoseLady: (Smirks) I did.

(Dean comes STORMING in and gets right in Platinum's face.) What the fuck did you do with my CAR?! One minute I'm sitting there, the next my ass is on the ground and my baby's gone! (Glares at Sam) Can she DO that?!

Sam: She's the Author, Dean. She can pretty much do what she likes… (Sam's voice trails off as he realizes the implications of that statement. Looks over at Platinum. She smiles brightly at him, and he smiles back a little nervously) Now, you will give us the car back, right, Platinum? (Sam turns on the Puppy Eyes for Maximum Effectiveness)

PlatinumRoseLady: You know, you really are awfully cute when you do that… (Takes Sam's hand) I'm sure I could come up with some great poetry about you.

Sam: (Blushes, smiles) R-really? Wow, that's very nice of you to…

Dean (Yelling): EXCUSE ME! I hate to break up the love-fest here, but this… this (Points at Platinum)… person who's getting REALLY CLOSE to winding up with a butt full of rock salt took the car!!!!

PlatinumRoseLady: You'll get it back when you can learn some impulse control. (Dean looks like he's about to do something he's not going to regret. Platinum lets go of Sam's hand. She reaches out and touches Dean's shoulder, looking up at him very earnestly.) I really am sorry, Dean. I should have warned you. There are a lot of great writers out there, but they do like to put you guys through the wars.

Dean: (Calming down slightly) Will you promise me a few things? Promise me Sam's not gonna go all Darkside in this story and I have to kill him?

PlatinumRoseLady: That's what has you so upset? (She can see that Dean is almost on the verge of tears at the idea of hurting Sam) Fine, I promise.

Dean: (Takes a deep breath) Promise me I'm not gonna go all Darkside in this story and Sam has to kill me?

PlatinumRoseLady: I can promise that, too. Neither of you are going Darkside in this story. You have my word of honor. And the car's right where you left it.

Dean: (Looks behind him and breaks out into a wide grin) All right! My baby's back! (Turns back around and give Platinum the Dean Winchester "I'm being totally serious" stare) Lady, don't you EVER do something like that again. Got me?

PlatinumRoseLady: (Her voice drops down to a sexy purr) Oooh, Dean, I get all tingly when you take charge like that.

(Sam bursts out laughing. He and Platinum walk off, arm in arm, discussing the upcoming chapter. Dean glares after them.)

Dean: I give up. (Shakes his head, walking off in the other direction) Authors…

Really quick note: Dean's whole reaction is NOT a slam on anyone who's written an Evil!Sam or Evil!Dean fic. I've read my fair share of both and find them awesome, but I think those kinds of stories would really REALLY freak Dean out. So hope nobody was offended.

And now….

Chapter 4: Dinner and a Show

Even though Dean had two extra legs now, Sam's were still longer. Before the kitten was able to dive headfirst into the bag from the diner, Sam had reached it and picked it up out of his reach. Dean's momentum once again proved to be his downfall as he was unable to stop in time and ran straight into Sam's right leg.

The effect was rather like what would happen if one threw a cotton ball at a redwood tree. Sam hardly felt a thing, but Dean bounced right off and rolled along the floor head over tail before bringing himself to a stop by sinking all of his claws into the carpet.

He shook himself, each and every piece of fur standing on end. "Rowr! Meow! Fffffft!" Dean snarled. His entire being radiated the attitude "What's the big fucking idea?!"

"I said I'd get you some chicken, and I did" Sam said, walking out into the kitchen, holding the bag well out of Dean's range. "I didn't say that I was going to just let you stick your face in the bag and inhale it. This stuff's full of bones, Dean. You could choke. Let me just get it ready for you and then we'll eat, okay?"

Dean had followed his brother out into the kitchen, and began to wind himself around Sam's legs. The most pitiful mewling noises began to issue from his throat, and he looked up at the bag with wide, pleading emerald green eyes.

Sam, however, was unmoved. "Dude, you sound like you haven't eaten for months! Stop being such a… whoa!" Sam did a quick two-step to avoid stepping on the kitten, who'd made another pass between his legs. "Dean, I'm serious, QUIT IT!" He glared down at the diminutive creature at his feet (well, tried to glare, anyway). He could have sworn that the look on Dean's face was a smirk before it was quickly replaced with one of total hurt innocence. Sam's resolve began to falter even further; it was impossible to stay annoyed with Dean while he was in this new form. "Don't do that to me, bro… c'mon, that's not fair."

Dean sighed, a weary, miserable "the entire Universe hates me" sigh, and turned up the pathos in his gaze. Let's see how YOU like getting the Sad Eye Treatment for a change, Sam he thought. Bet I can get him to cave super easy like this. Maybe I can even get some of that beer!

"When did you get so sneaky?" Sam questioned, torn between feeling guilty and laughing out loud at how piteous his brother was acting. At least, he hoped it was acting. "I'm sorry I snapped at you, okay?" Dean instantly perked up again, gave out with a chirrup, and butted his head against Sam's ankle. "But I mean it. Neither of us is going to feel really good if you trip me and I fall on you. So just stay still for a second, okay? Please?"

Dean mewed in agreement. He hadn't thought about that scenario. The notion of Sam falling on him was not one he wanted to think about; he'd be smashed flat!

Sam started taking containers out of the bag, placing them on the kitchen counter. When he opened the container that held the chicken, the moment its scent reached Dean's nose he started purring again, his tail whipping back and forth in anticipation.

Oh man, does that smell GOOD! I thought it smelled great yesterday, but today… there's so many different smells! Dean couldn't get over the multilayered effect having a cat's heightened senses brought. From the moist chicken, to the crunchy skin, to the spices, even the oil it had been cooked in – he could pick out each and every flavor. He began to work his jaws together, and tiny smacking noises left his mouth. He could almost TASTE the chicken just from the scents wafting down to him.

Sam picked out a medium sized drumstick and a section of thigh meat, held them out so Dean could see. "These pieces okay?" he asked. When Dean nodded, purring even louder, his brother grinned.

"I'll take that as a yes" he said. He began to peel off the skin, but stopped when Dean started to yowl, disappointment evident in every syllable. "Dean, please trust me, okay? I really don't think your system can take all this spicy stuff. The chicken will taste just fine, don't worry."

"Meeeeeooooooow!" Aw, Sam, you're taking off the best part! Cut me a little slack, willya?

Sam fixed the kitten with one of his more devastating "Bitch Faces", and Dean stopped his complaining with an annoyed huff. After he made sure there wasn't a scrap of skin left on either piece, Sam pulled a paper towel from its holder and began to blot off any extra oil, and cleaned his hands as well. Next came the knife, which Sam used to scrape off each and every bit of meat he could. He then pushed all the pieces into a little mound, and began to chop them up even smaller, trying to make them a little more bite-sized.

Dean could hardly stay still another second. That chicken smelled WAY too delicious to wait any longer. The kitten gathered up his strength, wiggled his hindquarters, and leapt up towards the counter. Unfortunately, his aim was slightly off, and after a somewhat dodgy landing he tumbled straight into the kitchen sink.

Sam didn't even look up from his task. "Smooth move, Lion-O", he said with a smirk. He knew the sink was not only empty but also bone-dry, so Dean was unhurt. When he did raise his head, calmly amused hazel eyes were met by the blazing green ones that peeked up at him over the rim of the sink. He might not be injured, but at the moment Dean was the poster kitten for how to look pissed off and sweet at the same time. Sam moved the pile of minced chicken onto the center of one of the paper plates from the diner, and brought it into the other room. He spread out a few sheets of newspaper on Dean's bed, placed the plate on top of that. He walked back out into the kitchen, trying (and failing) to keep from chuckling at the furry bundle glaring at him.

"Need some help?"

"Mrowr." Oh noooo, Sam, I'm just sitting in the fucking SINK for shits and giggles. "Rowr!" Now quit grinning at me and GET ME OUTTA HERE!

Sam reached out to pick Dean out of the sink, when the kitten leapt up once again, and dashed up Sam's left arm. He gasped slightly as the tiny claws stuck his shirt as Dean raced up to perch on his shoulder. It didn't hurt, since Dean wasn't digging them in, but it still felt a little odd. Sam turned his head slightly, bumped noses with his brother.

"You make one goofy-looking parrot," Sam said, his smile deepening the dimples in his handsome features.

"Prrow." You make one goofy-looking pirate Dean retorted. He pointed his left front paw at the bag containing the rest of the food. "Mew!" Now let's eat!

Sam picked up the bag and walked (carefully) back into the other room. When they got close enough to the bed Dean jumped off his shoulder, landing in the center of the pillow. Shoulders low, he began to walk towards his meal, purring with anticipation.

Sam pulled the chair over from the desk, watching the scene playing out before him as he set up the rest of the food on the bed. While Dean was distracted he reached into the bag from the Mini Mart, and pulled out a small white bowl, which he filled with some water from one of the bottles he'd bought. He didn't think placing the bowl on the bed was a good idea, so for the moment he put it on the floor. His lips quirked into an even bigger grin as he cracked open his own bottle of water. Dean looked so focused, so determined to devour his meal with his eyes before any of it touched his mouth.

I'm probably risking getting clawed again Sam thought as an idea began to form. Oh, what the hell. It'll be worth it.

"And as the mighty lion stalks his helpless prey, the wild Serengeti fried chicken rests, unaware of its gruesome fate…" Sam's voice had dropped to a breathless whisper; he sounded like the host of a nature program. Dean stopped, looked at him with narrowed eyes. One dainty front paw raised off the bed, pointed at his brother. Sam blinked, more than a little confused. His claws spread apart as wide as he could he get them, Dean was obviously trying to tell him something, but what could it…

Sam choked on a sip of his water. "Dean, are… are you trying to flip me off?!" Dean put the paw down with an exasperated sigh. Not having fingers anymore sucked. Sam couldn't stop the giggles that bubbled up even if he wanted to. "J-just eat the chicken, you goof."

Dean didn't need to be told twice. He stuck his tiny muzzle directly into the center of the shredded chicken. There was a moment of silence, then an explosion of noise erupted from his portion of the bed as Dean started to violently sneeze and cough, the force of both pushing his body away from the plate and closer to the edge of the bed.

Sam dropped his piece of chicken, stood up and grabbed Dean before he launched himself off the bedcovers. Collapsing back into his chair he cradled the kitten to his chest, confused at what could have cause such a severe response. "Dean, are you okay? What's the matter?" Sam was panicked that something in the chicken was causing an allergic reaction, but Dean didn't seem to be in any pain. The coughing quickly subsided but his brother continued to sneeze, even as his front paws wiped at his nose, scattering bits of dinner all over the place.

I'm sure I got off all the skin, I can't… oh duh Sam, that's what's wrong he realized with a slight gasp of understanding. Dean had been so eager to eat that he'd gotten a few chicken slivers right up his little nose. Sam took one of the napkins, and gently wiped away the scraps of chicken still stuck to the kitten's face. As he ministered to his brother, the sneezes began to die down, until Dean gave one last petite atchoo! He shook himself, looked up into Sam's face with a startled gaze that just screamed Okay, what the fuck just happened?!

Sam bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Dean looked so sweet and utterly confused, wide green eyes blinking up at him. "Dude, I think you need to take the whole eating thing a little… um, slower. I know you're hungry, but you're going to keep getting half your dinner up your nose if you just stick your face into your food."

He started to rub the kitten's stomach soothingly to help him calm down. "There we go, it's okay, it's alright now." Although his voice was soft and composed, Sam hoped that giving Dean something to focus on would keep the kitten from noticing how truly frightened he'd been. For one horrible second Sam had been convinced he'd somehow poisoned his brother. That's it he thought firmly. No matter how big of a fuss he kicks up, if Dean's not back to normal by tomorrow, he's going to have to eat the cat food I bought.

He felt the tension leaving his Dean's form, even as the feline in his lap stretched himself out even longer to enjoy the sensations. "Feel better now?" Sam asked as he continued to pet the soft, furry little belly.

Dean nodded, his form rumbling with a soft giggling purr as he stretched, allowing Sam to rub more of his stomach. This was a totally different sensation – scritches had a tickly feeling – this made him feel so much more relaxed. Dean thought scritches were addictive; turned out belly rubs damn near made him forget his own name! As his mind surrendered to the warm feelings, however, the scent of the chicken wafted into his nose again. He started to mew and tried to twist out of Sam's arms - that chicken smelled out of this world, and he was STARVING. Sam placed the kitten back on the newspaper-covered bed, and Dean gave himself another shake; this one started at his ears and ran the length of his body until the very tip of his tail vibrated. That accomplished, Dean padded back over to his plate, this time eyeing the chicken a little more cautiously.

How the hell am I going to do this? He wondered. Dammit, not having hands really bites!

Sam looked down at his own hands, his lips in a slight moue of distaste; chicken grease plus cat hair wasn't the most disgusting this he'd ever touched, but it didn't feel especially pleasant either. "I'll be right back, gotta wash up" Sam said as he headed out to the kitchen.

Dean merely nodded, his attention totally focused on trying to outwit the plate of chicken he was starting to feel was mocking him. He tapped his right front paw in annoyance, then looked down at it, his eyes narrowing as an idea suddenly struck. He reached out his paw, extended his claws a little, scooped up a piece of his dinner and quickly brought it to his mouth.

Yatzee! Dean thought triumphantly, savoring the tastes of the chicken as he slowly chewed. His eyes rolled back into their sockets, and Dean let out a low "meeeeeeoow" of pleasure as the flavors bounced around his mouth and slid down his throat. All of a sudden he was so overwhelmed by just how INCREDIBLE the meat tasted. The flavor, the subtle hints of oil and spice, the texture – it was unbelievable! He picked up another scoop, ate it and sat back on his haunches, purring away. This was, without a doubt, the most fucking AWESOME chicken he'd ever eaten in his life.

Sam leaned against the wall dividing the kitchen from the main room and smiled. He'd been trying to think of some way to help his brother out while he'd been washing up; trust Dean to come up with something on his own. His heart glowed with love and amazement over Dean's resourcefulness. Nothing and no one would ever beat him – not Hell, not some witch, not anything. "That taste good?" he asked, even though the answer was pretty obvious.

Dean turned and gave his brother a combination of a purr and a chirrup, tail whipping back and forth happily. You have NO IDEA, Sam! He got himself a little more settled in front of his plate, daintily picking up another mouthful.

For the next few minutes man and kitten ate in companionable silence. Sam looked up from his meal every few moments, just to check that Dean was okay. Dean was absorbed in his dinner, savoring each and every bite. Now that he had mastered the best way to eat the chicken, he was determined to enjoy every morsel.

He looked up at one point, caught Sam smiling at him. Dean cocked his head slightly, and a puzzled "Prowr?" worked its way around the food he was chewing.

"It's nothing, Dean" Sam replied. "Don't worry about it."

Dean was not going to be put off, however. Swallowing the second to the last bite of chicken, he fixed Sam with a kitten stare that the younger Winchester realized was as devastating as his own "Puppy Eyes". Sam gave out with a little sigh; he was beaten, and he knew it.

"If I tell you what I was thinking, you've got to promise you're not gonna start lose it and start clawing at me again, okay?"

Dean rolled his eyes and nodded. He had a feeling he knew what was coming, anyway.

"Well, it's just that… um, Dean I know you're going to hate me for saying this… but watching you do that little paw thing you've been doing is probably the cutest thing I've ever seen…" Sam stopped talking as Dean began to growl, but then he finished his sentence "but it was also really clever. I don't think I would've been able to think up something like that." Sam chuckled dryly "Oh who am I trying to kid? I wouldn't be able to think PERIOD. I'd be so freaked out if I were the one that spell hit I'd be a wreck. But not you." He smiled at his brother; his brave, noble brother. His voice got a little thicker as his emotions rose to the surface.

"I-I just wanted to tell you; I'm proud of you, Dean. For the way you're handling this. For the way you handle everything."

If he'd still been a human being, Dean would have mocked his brother mercilessly about his "Chick Flick" moments. But somehow, it felt okay to accept Sam's kind words while he was in this form. In fact, it felt pretty nice. Dean stepped around his plate (stopping long enough to scarf down the remaining piece of chicken), walked over to Sam, and gently rubbed his head against his brother's right knee. He purred softly, his whole being sending out the message Thanks, Sam.

Sam blinked away the tears that were dancing in his eyes. It was so ironic that Dean seemed to be able to communicate better now than he could when he had had the power of human speech.

"You still hungry?" Sam asked, smiling as the kitten nodded eagerly. "I got us some green beans…" Dean's head snapped up and the look in his eyes pretty much said it all. Kitten or not Dean Winchester and vegetables were still not on speaking terms. "Okay, okay." Sam held up his hands in mock surrender "I just thought I'd ask..." He looked down into the bag, pulling out the container with the beans in it, along with another one. "How about some mashed potatoes?"

"Meow!" NOW you're talking! "Mrowr!" But first… He jumped off the bed, and approached the water dish with caution. He really didn't want a repeat of what had happened with the chicken. He settled down in front of the bowl, and stuck his tongue into the cool liquid. JUST his tongue, not his whole face, which he found worked beautifully.

As Dean lapped up the water, he started to purr again. How had he never noticed just how delicious plain old bottled water tasted? It flowed down his throat so smooth and clean, it was…

This is as a good as a beer… screw that, it's BETTER than beer! He mused happily. Dean paused as he pondered his last thought. Should it worry him that he was feeling this way? Because it didn't concern him at all. Granted the first few hours as a cat he'd felt like shit, but now, things really didn't seem so bad. He still thought like a human, that was all that mattered. But things just seemed a little… clearer now. Bobby would help them figure how to fix this; he'd become his handsome self again in no time. Things would work out.

Anyways, Sam's been worried I've been drinking too much, but THIS cure is a bit on the extreme side. Whoa, am I becoming one of those optimists? Dean chuckled at the idea, took another sip of water, then jumped back up onto the bed to finish the rest of his dinner.

Sam watched the kitten take his place in front of his paper plate, upon which rested a small hill of mashed potatoes. He gestured with his fork, speared with a couple of green beans. "That enough for you?"

"Mew." Now that he'd had some experience in the ways of eating like a feline, Dean abandoned the paw method and simply took smaller bites, careful to keep his nose out of the potatoes. Again he thrummed with pleasure; he could pick out the starch of the spuds, the cream, the butter and salt. I cannot get over how freaking awesome this all tastes! Dean marveled. It only took about a half dozen mouthfuls of potato, on top of the chicken, for him to start feeling really full. His chewing slowed down, stopped completely.

Sam looked over at the kitten. "Are you finished, Dean?" In spite of himself, he was a little surprised; if Dean were still human he'd have polished of the potatoes and probably try to snake what was left of Sam's. Dean gave him a nod, and pushed the plate away. "You don't even want any dessert? You're sure?" Sam leaned over and picked up one more container from the diner bag. "I got some apple pie for you… um, I'm not really sure you should be having it, but…" Sam's voice trailed off as Dean decisively shook his head "no".

"Meow" Dean said firmly. Thanks a lot, Sam, but I think if I eat one more bite I'm gonna hurl. He blinked, cocked his head slightly. "Mrrow?" Okay, that's weird. I just turned down some pie. He shrugged and stretched himself out on the covers, feeling too satiated and comfortable to continue that train of thought, his tail flicking lazily back and forth. He started to lick his paws, getting out any extra specks of food he might have missed, along with smoothing his fur. He had been a little worried about the whole grooming himself part. He'd seen enough cats do it before, but he found that once get got into a steady rhythm, it was pretty easy. He lets his mind wander, and for a change it wasn't going anywhere full of fire and darkness and screaming.

"Smaller body, smaller stomach, smaller appetite I guess" Sam mused out loud. "I'll just put this in the fridge for tomorrow, then." With his free hand he also picked up both their used plates and the newspaper. He got up and walked out into the kitchen, junked the refuse and put the carton in the refrigerator. Out of his brother's line of sight Sam leaned against the appliance, a slight frown on his face. Should he be worried that Dean had showed absolutely no interest in the pie? On one hand he was happy that Dean was eating AT ALL – he'd noticed that lately his brother and been drinking more than eating, and not water either.

But on the other hand…

Sam suddenly remembered something, a scrap of trivia from his high school days. Cats were supposedly one of the only animals that will stop eating when they're full. Unlike other creatures which would go on gorging themselves it the food supply was indefinite, a cat would stop before it made itself sick. He wasn't sure if that was true or not, but it did make him wonder; if it was, was that because of a physical thing or was Dean starting to THINK like a cat?

Sam sighed. This whole situation was a mess; what were they going to do if Bobby couldn't find something in his vast library to help change Dean back? Not that Sam had a problem taking care of Dean like this. In fact, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, Dean was EASIER to care for since this transformation. He seemed to accept affection and kindness much more willingly, that haunted look was gone from his eyes…

Damn it, Sam, stop it! What the hell is the matter with you? He thought angrily, lightly banging the back of his head against the fridge in frustration. Dean is a freaking kitten! How is this better? He's so helpless, so small, so…

Happy? Or at the very least, calmer. Whispered another part of Sam's mind. Once he stopped freaking out he settled right into this new phase of life…

A "phase". That's all it is. Just a phase. Who knows if it's going to last? What if he starts having those nightmares while he's like this?

He quietly walked away from the fridge, leaned against the wall, watching the kitten groom himself.

I-I just want my brother back – all of him Sam admitted sadly to himself. He straightened up, a resolute look in his eyes. Enough of this. Doesn't matter what form he's in, right now Dean needs me to take care of him. He's looked after me my whole life. The least I can do for him right now is make sure he's comfortable. With that thought, Sam walked back to the main room, determined to help Dean make the best of this situation.

They'd figure out what to do. Together.

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Coming soon: Chapter Five: The Lion Sleeps Tonight… Eventually

(We find Dean sitting on a long white wrought-iron bench. Sam is on his right side, PlatinumRoseLady is seated on his left. They're all pretty quiet. Dean is leaning forward, chin on his fists, elbows on his knees. He looks deep in thought. Sam looks at Platinum over Dean's bowed head. She looks over at Dean, then mouths to Sam "Is he okay?" Sam shrugs.)

PlatinumRoseLady: (Gently bumps shoulders with Dean.) So, um, am I forgiven yet?

Dean: (Still staring straight ahead.) For pulling that stunt with my baby? Well, you didn't damage her, so…yeah, I guess so. And you did make sure I got a really decent meal in that chapter, that was damn nice of you. (Sam gives Platinum a grin and the thumbs up sign, and she smiles.) However… (Dean quickly turns his head to look at Sam, who just as rapidly drops the thumbs up gesture so he can look as innocent as possible. Dean narrows his eyes at his brother, then turns and fixes Platinum with an icy stare. Her smile wavers a little.) I can't help noticing that this chapter's over and I am STILL a kitten.

PlatinumRoseLady: Well, um, yeah, that's true. But Dean, you need to try and look on the bright side.

Dean: The "bright side" being what exactly?

PlatinumRoseLady: Er, well… (Thinking very hard) at least you're not a Darkside kitten. (Both Winchesters stare at her. She shrugs.) Hey, I panicked.

(In spite of himself, Dean's lips are beginning to quirk into a smile. Sam has turned his head so he's not looking at the others, but it's very obvious he's starting to giggle.)

Dean: You are one seriously fucked up person, you know that, right?

Platinum: Oh, Dean, you do say the sweetest things! I knew you liked me! (Throws her arms around Dean in a big hug)

Dean: HEY, watch it! (Extracts himself from her embrace) Crying out loud, were you a python in a past life or something?!

PlatinumRoseLady: Don't think so. But I do like you, Dean. And Sam, too. There are lots of us out there that like you. That's why we write about you guys so much. It's our way of showing that we care.

Dean: Okay, okay, I get it. And I guess its okay. I mean, they're just made-up stories. But you are gonna turn me back?

PlatinumRoseLady: Of course I am, silly!

Dean: Fine. When?

PlatinumRoseLady: Beats the hell outta me. I'm not even sure how many chapters this sucker's going to run. To quote a great man "I don't know, I'm making this up as I go."

(Sam swings his head back around, open-mouth stare of surprise on his face which quickly blossoms into a dimple-showing smile as he recognizes the quote. Stands up and walks over so he's standing in front of Platinum) That was from "Raiders of the Lost Ark!" You're an Indy fan?

PlatinumRoseLady: Dude, what kind of stuff do you think I watch?! "27 Dresses"? (Snorts) As IF. Been an Indy fan for like ever.

Sam: (Holds his hand out – he's such the gentleman) No way! What did you think of the last one?

PlatinumRoseLady: (She takes his hand and he helps her up) "Crystal Skull" was okay… but out of all of them the original's the best. (She and Sam start to walk off, discussing movies)

Dean: Hey, where are you two going?

PlatinumRoseLady: Just to talk and get some coffee. (Dean opens his mouth to protest) Don't worry, Dean, you won't be alone. (Snaps her fingers. Suddenly a woman appears on the bench next to Dean.) Dean, meet Fictionairre. Fic, you already know Dean. She's another Author.

Fictionnaire: Hi! (Holds her hand out)

Dean: Um, hey. (Shakes her hand) How's it going?

Fictionnaire: Really great, thank you. I'm a big fan of yours.

Dean: No kidding? (Grins) Thanks. So what do you think of this whole thing?

Fictionnairre: Platinum's story? (He nods) Well… you promise you won't get mad?

(Dean opens his mouth, but before he can say anything Sam's voice rings out "He promises!" and Platinum chimes in saying "He'll be good, Fic!" Dean shuts his mouth with a snap, sighs. Makes a "go ahead" gesture to Fictionarre.)

Fictionairre: Well, I think you're really adorable as a kitten. (Dean rolls his eyes) Oh, I think you're adorable all the time; it's just that as a kitten you're so… well…

Dean: Cute. I know. (He slumps forward) So much for my badass reputation.

Fictionairre: (Reaches out and starts to gently scratch Dean between his shoulder blades) We all know you're an awesome hunter, silly! I – (She stops talking, her mouth slightly open in shock.)

(Dean hasn't budged an inch since Fictionairre started scratching. His head is slightly bowed, eyes shut in ecstasy, his whole posture completely relaxed… and the noises coming from his throat are as close to purring as a human can get)

(Fictionairre clamps her free hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud until she calms down. She waves Sam and Platinum over. They walk back in, Sam with a cup of coffee, Platinum with a bottle of Diet Pepsi. Sam's mouth drops open, while Platinum walks over and gives Fictionairre a high-five)

Fictionairre: Thanks so much, Platinum! I really wasn't sure it would work!

PlatinumRoseLady: I wasn't either, that's why I was so happy to help. (She turns back to Sam) Um, Sam, love?

Sam: (He's still watching, fascinated at his brother's behavior) Hmmm? What?

PlatinumRoseLady: There some reason you DON'T have your phone out taking pictures of this? (Sam opens his mouth) And before you say anything, four little words: Nair in your shampoo.

(Sam blinks, shuts his mouth, stares at Platinum… and gets a huge (and slightly evil) smile on his face. Holds out his coffee cup) Would you mind holding this for a second?

(Platinum takes the cup with a big grin of her own) Always glad to help.

Sam (Looks over at Platinum) You know, you really are kind of a bad influence…

PlatinumRoseLady: Yeah, I get that a lot actually.

(Sam laughs as he gets out his camera…)

A/N: The stuff about cats that Sam was thinking about? I've heard it's an urban myth, but I'm not sure.

A/N2: Fictionnaire – hope that worked out the way you wanted. She asked me to write in that part and I though it sounded cute. Hope you all did too.