Bedeviling the Chipper

By: Maygin

Note: For those of you having a hard time visualizing the OC, think Carson from Queer Eye for the Straight Guy… for some reason I could not stop thinking of him when I wrote this character. Stick with this guys… reviews are MUCH appreciated ;)

Chapter Two

"Come again?"

And there was that sigh again, followed by an overly-done roll of the eyes. "Your brother Sam is haunting me."

Dean shoved the man's hand off his arm in frustration, "Yeah I heard you the first time dickhead, what I wanna know is why the hell I should believe you."

Flakey looked to his left again with wide eyes, shaking his head. "Honey you weren't kidding."

"HEY!" Dean blurted in anger. "I don't have time for your shit. Sammy is dead and if you think for one-"

"It's Sam."

Dean froze, mouth still in the 'one' formation. "What?" he whispered as something small seemed to flicker inside him.

"He keeps saying its Sam… not Sammy, or Samuel or whatever." He flung a hand carelessly in the air. "He's kind of a stubborn little guy isn't he?"

Dean swallowed, suddenly unsure. One thing was for certain though… the little flicker of hope had suddenly flared to a raging inferno. But he didn't know what to say next. …what the hell did a guy say in a situation like this anyways? He eagle-eyed the other man warily though as Flakey suddenly glanced to his left, seemingly listening, and then took a deep breath.

"He also says he's sorry about Mr. Churbie… who the hell's Mr. Churbie?" he gave Dean a confused look.

Dean cleared his throat, and looked at the empty spot to the man's left. "He uh…" he swallowed again and licked his lips, his voice soft, "he was our hero… when we were kids."

"Oh," the man's eyes roamed uncomfortably, "Sooo what happened to him?"

"He died," Dean answered quickly, "Sam?" he called out.

"How did he die?"

"Where's he at? Sammy?" Dean walked over towards the tree.

"It's Sam and-" Fruit-cake held his hands up in distress, "you almost walked right through him, would you be careful?"

"Where? Here? Sam?" Dean swiveled around. "Can he hear me?"

The other man sighed again and rolled his eyes dramatically, "Yes of course he can hear you."

"Sam, talk to me, what the hells goin on?" Dean's eyes searched desperately around him.

"Well if he knew do you think we'd be here?" the man asked with an obvious 'duh' in his tone.

"Dude." Dean held a hand up forestalling any other helpful comments blondie had to offer. "Just tell me what he's saying."

With pursed lips, "He says he's not dead, not yet anyways and that…" he nodded to whatever he was hearing, "he doesn't know what happened or how to get back to his body, or if that's even possible."

"Oh it's possible." Dean said firmly. "I'm gonna make sure it's possible ya hear me?"

"You know," Flakey sighed pleasantly, "if I weren't being haunted by your nearly-dead brother, this would be such a sweet, touching moment." He batted his eyes, "Two brothers overcoming death to reunite. They should make a movie abou-"

"Why in God's name did you choose him Sam?" Dean asked the empty air begrudgingly.

The him huffed indignantly. "He didn't choose me honey… he just showed up. I'm the victim in all this."

Dean snorted, "With all the shit we deal with? You better hope not. Come on." Dean turned and walked with a new-found determination. He was a man on a mission.

"Where are we going?" the frail man daintily caught up, matching his pace with a graceful air.

"Back to where this all started."

"Oooh." the man said as if he'd just been let in on some grand conspiracy.

"What's your name anyways?" Dean asked as he pulled his keys out of his pocket, apparently the hour's worth of walking he'd done earlier had taken him in circles. He felt the common swell of pride at seeing his baby across the street.

"Calantha." The man revealed grandiloquently; his hands jazzed out before him.

Dean paused, and looked at his counterpart, his door half open. "Wha- what the hell is that?"

The other man's jazzed hands suddenly balled in excitement, "It's greek," he enthused, "it means like a lovely blossom," he finished with flare, eyes wide in anticipation.

Dean pushed his door closed again. "Flowers get stepped on." It was a lame threat and he knew it… this whole ordeal had thrown him off his game though.

Flakey dropped his hands and gave Dean a knowing look, "That is so deep, and so totally true." Dean bit down on his bottom lip… hard. "You know Dean I never would've pegged you as the philosophical type. Guess it just goes to show you can't judge us men by their covers right?" he winked, grabbing the handle of the passenger door and pulling.

"Stop." Dean demanded, the other man paused, door half open. "First of all Calzone, please do not ever again refer to us as being in the same category of men, okay? Secondly… there is no way in hell I'm letting you get in my car with that name."

"Wha-" he huffed, "Well why not?"

"Because it's ridiculous and I'm not letting you taint my car with your stupidity. What's your real name?" He demanded.

"That is my real name. I had it legally changed. And it's Calantha, not Calzone." He flashed his pearly whites.

Dean took a deep breath. "Well now its Cal… got it?"

Cal pouted his lips out and clicked his tongue with a roll of his eyes. "Whateverrr."

"I'm not kidding," Dean emphasized with a finger, "I hear one crazy-ass thing come out of your mouth and I will drop you off a bridge." With that Dean pulled his door back open and quickly slid in, mumbling something about dead queers and salt.

Cal rolled his eyes and did a double-take to his right with a frown. "What are you laughing at?" he growled before sliding in him self and closing the door.

TBC…