Hey guys, just wanted to tell you how stoked I am to see such a response! More on the way, I'm thinking this will be a three or four shot. I'm enjoying writing this and I hope it gives ya giggles.


Sam knew that his life literally depended on whether or not he dared to let a mere snicker escape his lips. Quite a challenge, but knowing that Dean, in the current state he was in, would probably deck him if even the corners of his mouth turned upwards managed to keep Sam's internal jolly laughter at bay. It wasn't worth it…maybe.

Dean stood there by the side of the road, just dumbstruck by what had happened. His car had been stolen. No, not stolen-kidnapped by little green men. He wasn't sure if he should scream or cry. Laughter was totally out of the question. And Dean silently vowed that if just the corners of Sammy's lips bent upward, he would deck him.

The pause was good, because it let Sam regain enough control to speak without cracking up. Of course, this was a rather important matter. After all, all of their earthly belongings were in the vehicle, including the laptop, Dad's journal, and the weapons. Not to mention, he was sure, a part of Dean's soul.

"Dean, calm down…"

But Dean did not want to be told to calm down. For all he knew, those psycho representatives of the Lollipop Guild could be driving his precious car off of a cliff right now. Hell, they probably couldn't even see over the wheel! Playtime was over. No one took the Impala hostage.

"Where do we find the leprechauns?" Dean asked quietly.

"I don't know," Sam replied honestly.

"Sam…" Dean said warningly. Sam had better fucking know where the fucking leprechauns lived. He was the one who had decided it was such a good deed to go after the pests, he was the one who had decided to get fucking flowers from the psycho doll chick, so therefore he sure as hell should be the one to know where the leprechauns went when they stole the Impala.

"Seriously, I don't know," Sam repeated, taking a slight step away from Dean for good measure. There was really no telling what he'd do now that his baby had been taken. "Look, best thing we can do is stick to the original plan." He nodded to the shopping bag Dean was gripping in his hand.

Dean looked from Sam, to the road, and finally in defeat at the shopping bag.


They had to walk to the town limits, which was a good two miles away. That had been inconvenient, but the Winchesters were fit enough to hoof it with little trouble. It was the individual planting of each little Morning Glory seed that had nearly driven Dean over the edge. He was angry and frustrated, and all he could take it out on was the soft dirt as he forced another tiny seed into the earth.

"Did you lock the car?" Dean asked suddenly.

"Dean, it's not like locks matter to leprechauns anyway," Sam replied matter-of-factly from his position a few feet away as he pressed another seed into the ground.

Dean didn't care and he noticed Sam's avoidance of an actual answer. "Did you lock the car?" he repeated.

"Yes," Sam replied.

"Really?"

"Yes." He had, hadn't he? They parked the car…Dean leapt out…Sam paused to wonder why Dean had run in so eagerly…

"Are you sure?" Dean pressed.

"No," Sam admitted, wincing in anticipation of his brother's wrath.

Dean just stared at Sam for a minute. Okay, this was officially all Sam's fault. "Okay, after I go Godzilla on those midgets' asses and get my car back, I'm gonna run you over with it," he said decisively.

"You do that," Sam rebuffed stiffly as he struggled to pick up just a single seed from his package.

"I will," Dean said firmly, "I'll…"

Sam looked over at his brother to wonder why he'd suddenly trailed off. Dean was looking around intently at the tree surrounding them. "Dean? What's…?"

But Dean shushed him. "Listen!"

Sam did for about five seconds and heard nothing but the wind in the trees. "What is it?"

"Metallica," Dean stated simply.

Sam stared at Dean for a minute, but Dean didn't seem to notice. He continued to scan the immediate area, his face set. Okay, Dean was hearing Metallica in the middle of the woods.

"Uh huh…" Sam said skeptically, "Dean, I seriously think you might be suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Dis-"

"I am not!" Dean snapped, "Just shut up and listen!"

Sam obeyed. At first, nothing, but then…

Sleep with one eye open…

Gripping your pillow tight…

Sam blinked stupidly. What the fuck?

"Exit light…Enter ni-ight…" Dean quietly sang along as he stood up and headed for the woods.

"Dean, wait-where're you going?" Sam asked as he got up and followed anyway.

"Quiet, you'll let them know we're on to them," Dean warned in a hushed voice.

"'Them'?" Sam quoted with a raised eyebrow, it slowly dawning on him what the music meant.

Dean ignored him. "This is war now," he declared to himself, "Take my car, then start playing my music? I am gonna squash every single one of those fucking River Dancing drunken pipsqueaks."

"Maybe they're just hard rock fans," Sam offered with a smirk.

But Dean wasn't paying attention enough to catch Sam's remark. He wasn't moving, was barely breathing, listening for James Hetfield's voice. It was coming from the east, so Dean followed it that way, Sam trailing behind. The sound got louder and louder…but now it sounded like it was coming from more towards the north. So, Dean followed that direction. Again the music got louder, then seemed to fade more towards the south.

Dean's brow furrowed. Wait a minute, how was that even…

All of a sudden, blasting bass guitar surrounded the brothers, blaring loud and clear the escalating guitar and:

BOOM!

But there was nothing to be seen as the source of the song, only the trees. No leprechauns or Impala, just the bodiless music.

"It's magic," Sam announced, laughing.

But the music was too loud. "It's what?" Dean asked, cupping his ears, trying to hear Sam over the blaring bass line.

"It's magic!" Sam yelled back.

"What?"

"I said-" The music stopped, but not soon enough for Sam to adjust his volume. "It's MAGIC!"

"Yeah, I got that," Dean said, rubbing his ear,"No need to yell."

Sam rolled his eyes, but couldn't help from laughing again. "They're using their magic to get the music to play all around us so we can't find them!"

Dean whirled around at him, his face silencing. "Listen to me. This is not fucking funny, got that, Geek boy?"

"Maybe not to you," Sam replied coolly with a shrug, "But from here? It's pretty fucking hi-larious."

Dean scowled at him, and for a moment Sam really did think Dean was going to deck him. But he didn't. He only gritted his teeth as he looked around the woods. His face slowly went from pissed to even more pissed, combined with slightly confused.

"Hey, Sam…" he said uncertainly.

"Yeah?"

"We're not lost, right?" Dean more requested than asked.

Sam looked around. He didn't see the road or the path they'd been on. Just trees. "Um… Maybe…"

"Crap."


"Okay, I've got an idea," Sam announced from his spot against the birch tree.

"Yeah, and they've been just dandy thus far," Dean retorted grumpily from the stump he'd perched himself on.

"I remember hearing this story around St. Patrick's Day at Pastor Jim's parish," Sam began.

But Dean cut him off. "Oh, yeah, good ol' Pastor Jim. Good ol' Father Jesus Juice. I can't wait to hear this little nugget of wisdom."

"Anyway," Sam went on, "It was about this guy who got a leprechaun's gold. Now, let's suppose the reason the leprechauns here are stealing stuff is because someone stole their gold."

"And now someday someone will follow a rainbow and find my baby at the end of it?" Dean asked both irritably and morosely.

"Maybe. Or maybe you could find it first," Sam pointed out.

"No shit, Sherlock," Dean jeered.

"Look, the guy found the pot of gold by catching the leprechaun and holding his breath until the leprechaun took him to the pot of gold," Sam explained, "So all we have to do is catch one of the leprechauns and follow it…"

"To the treasure, which means my baby!" Dean finished, brightening up considerably now that there was an actual rescue mission involved. "So, how do we catch one?"

"We built a trap," Sam declared.

Dean's face fell. "Uh huh. And how do we do that?"

"Um…" Sam hadn't quite put that much thought into it. There was a pause for contemplation.

"We could use a box," Dean offered, "But oh wait, that's in the car."

"Yeah."

"We could maybe use a bag. But that's in the car too. Darn it," Dean said sarcastically.

Sam raised an eyebrow at him. Why was Dean picking on him? "You now, it's not my fault the leprechauns stole your car."

"You didn't lock the doors," Dean pointed out accusingly.

"It wouldn't have made a difference," Sam replied matter-of-factly.

"Well, we'll never know now, will we?"

Suddenly, Sam brightened up a little. "I got it."

"What?"

"We'll use our shoes," Sam stated, as though this was the most ingenious idea ever.

"Will we now?" Dean asked skeptically.

"Yeah," Sam said, "I remember, leprechauns like shoes."

"Another Pastor Jim story? Like the one about the Angel of Death coming after me because I broke into the sacramental wine?" Dean asked suspiciously.

Sam ignored him. "Maybe if we leave our shoes here, we can lure one of them out and catch one."

"No," Dean said stubbornly, "No way. I'm not gonna leave my Nikes out for another one of those deranged midgets to steal like they did my car."


So, they used Sam's instead.

There it sat, a worn out size 10, waiting patiently for a little green man to take up residence in it. The brothers had decided to wait behind a particularly large pine tree. Sam was leaning on the tree of support because of his missing footwear.

At first, Dean had been at least a little optimistic about the idea, having been given renewed hope towards the safe return of his car. But after about half an hour of waiting for something to happen, nothing did. No sound of dancing, hand-cobbled shoes. No Irish lilt singing 'How Are Things in Glocamora?'. Not even a rainbow.

"Maybe the smell's keeping them away," Dean suggested with a smirk.

"Are you saying my feet stink? 'Cause I'm not the one who hasn't gone in to the laundry mat for the past week," Sam shot back with a pointed look.

Dean was about to reply that he'd spent that time instead talking to a lovely blonde-who didn't have a collection of dolls, but had a very interesting exciting underwear collection. But Sam's sudden snap of the head towards his shoe caught Dean's attention and he followed the gaze, ready to nab the first piece of bright green he saw.

Low and behold, a tiny glow of green light was coming from the heel of the shoe. Dean didn't hesitate. He sprang out from behind the tree and leapt out to the shoe, clamping down on the opening. Sam somewhat awkwardly trailed after, not liking to have to walk on the muddy forest floor in his sock.

"Got it!" Dean declared in triumph.

Sam smiled, somewhat impressed at Dean's skillful capture of the creature. "Okay, now just tell him to take us to the gold. Just gotta hold our breath until we get there."

Dean nodded in agreement, then reached into the shoe to get a hold of the leprechaun. Suddenly, he jerked his hand out with a curse. Sam looked at him curiously. Dean looked somewhat perplexedly at his finger. A tiny little red sore was on it, a miniscule droplet of blood drawn. "Son of an Irish bitch bit me!" Dean said, half pissed half purely amazed.

Sam snickered; he couldn't help it. Big ol' bad Dean Winchester was being bested by a man so small that he could fit comfortably in a shoe. The older Winchester scowled and bravely rammed his hand back into the Nike, determined to grab the green sucker this time.

Soon, after a short struggle, a victorious grin spread over Dean's face, and he produced the leprechaun, holding it up by the scruff of its tiny green jacket. The tiny man was about five inches tall, clothed in rather old-fashioned drab, and glowing green. He also didn't look too happy; he was waving his arms and legs about, his face almost as red as his hair.

"Not so tough now that you're with the big boys, huh, Lucky?" Dean mocked with a smirk.

The leprechaun replied, but not in a way that Sam or Dean could understand. It was in a different language, and in a tone so high-pitched, it was like talking to a helium balloon. Still, the gestures and tone pretty much got the message across.

"I swear he just made a 'yo momma' remark," Dean said to Sam, half-serious. "How're we gonna tell him to take us to the gold if he can't understand us?"

"Just tell him, and I think he'll get the drift," Sam advised, "Why else would we've set a trap for him?"

"Okay, worth a shot," Dean reasoned. He raised the leprechaun at eye level, to make sure the little man knew who was in charge. "All right, Lucky, I'm fucking sick of walking around. I want my car back. Either you take us to it, or I squash you, got it?"

The leprechaun gave Dean the dirtiest look he'd possibly ever received, even worse than the one he'd collectively received from the entire girl's lacrosse team when they'd caught him peaking in the locker room. One lesson Dean had learned that day was to never underestimate whether a chick could beat the shit out of you, especially when they were in groups and carrying lacrosse sticks.

Never the less, the leprechaun gave a curt nod, reminding the brothers with puffed out cheeks the condition for him being their guide. The brothers nodded back as they took deep breaths and held them. Dean released the leprechaun, who started to fly about in the air in a style similar to a fairy, probably to stretch after being stuck in the shoe and Dean's grasp.

All of a sudden, however, the leprechaun kicked into overdrive and zoomed ahead, dodging amongst the trees. Dean mentally cursed as he tried to keep up. He couldn't run and hold his breath, at least not for long.

Sam was slowed down, trying to force his Nike back on his foot. He kept his eyes up, trying to keep track of the green light and Dean. Finally, the shoe was more or less back on his foot, and he was off.

This is cheating! Dean mentally yelled to the green light ahead of him.

As though it had heard his thoughts, the leprechaun stopped and seemed to be waiting for him. Dean slowed to walk and suppressed his body's screams to take a deep breath. He kept his eyes on the little green prize. If the leprechaun tried anymore tricks, Dean would be ready.

Suddenly, the ground that Dean's left foot was supposed to hit was gone. Dean looked down five seconds too late. The green fuck had led him right off of a short cliff!

Dean couldn't help it; he cried out as he struggled to keep from falling, his arms cart-wheeling. But it was no use; he fell all the same. He landed hard, but with little injury other than bruises than would hurt like a bitch in the morning. As he sat back up, he saw the leprechaun floating in the air abut a foot above him, grinning cockily. Dean had lost his chance and breathed.

Dean jumped up and swatted at the leprechaun, but it floating mockingly out of his reach. It even placed each of its hands on its temple in Bullwinkle fashion and waved its tongue out at him. Dean growled fiercely and leapt for it, but was unsuccessful. Finally, bored with the game, the leprechaun tipped its hat and flew off.

Dean stood there, his face hot. Not just because he'd screwed up, but also because Sam's laughter from the top of the short cliff didn't sound like it was going to fade anytime soon.


Just give the word, and I will SO continue!