Barbie and Ken
Barbie turned the key and pulled it out of the ignition. She laid her head slowly along the steering wheel of her 1969 black mustang. She closed her eyes, willing herself to somehow get the strength for the upcoming day ahead of her. She never did and never would understand why anyone opened anything at five in the morning. Anyone who was insane enough to still be on the road then, would be the type to keep powering through, or have long since stopped at a motel for the night.
She sighed deeply. She pocketed her keys, and clambered out of the car, closing the polished door softly. The red neons overly proud announcement of "Dollhouse Diner" was harsh against the dim light of dawn. The lights were already on inside. She could make out Berney's plump silhouette through the blinds turned on their sides.
She tugged her DG jacket tighter around her slim form. It was a size too small, just like her jeans, to enunciate her hard kept hourglass figure. Her jacket didn't close around her chest, and she used her fists in her pockets to hold it closed.
The door dinged as she walked in. Berney was the only one there so far. He must have been on duty to open today. She didn't envy him. She was opening tomorrow.
She grunted a soft, "Hello," to him and hung her Prada bag carefully under her name tag in the office room. She picked up her apron and tied it tightly around her waist. Then she went to the bathroom, and reapplied her bubblegum lipstick as though highlighting a question for an exam. She double-checked her eyeshadow, and made sure her eyebrows were on fleek, with an annoyed pluck, and left the tiny employee bathroom.
She grabbed the Windex and the last clean rag from the supply room, before stepping out of the employee only section of the diner.
Berney wordlessly handed her a cup of black coffee. She grinned tiredly in response. With one hand, she sprayed the red and black checkered countertops, and the other sipped her scalding coffee. By the time she had finished spraying all the tables she had also finished her coffee. She held her sweeping blonde hair streaked with lowlights behind one shoulder as she walked around cleaning the surfaces.
She was just putting away the last rag for cleaning when Brenda Uri walked in. She was a mousy girl, with large glasses and bangs that hid most of her unfortunate features. Her hair was perpetually tied into a loose bun, and she had large hoop earrings that clashed horribly with her T-shirts and baggy khakis.
Barbie gave a short wave to Brenda and threw out her coffee cup.
Brenda dumped her target bag next to Barbie's Prada. It looked even duller in comparison. Brenda set to work immediately. Her dusty bangs flying to and fro while her ugly loops flayed wildly.
It wasn't long before the smell of eggs and bacon filled the air, wafting in from Berney's grill. Once the counters shined and the meat was defrosted, Brenda took her place in the kitchen. It was her job to prepare the food, while Barbie took the orders. No one questioned why Barbie was the one taking the order and not hiding in the kitchen all day, like some people.
A half-hour after they had flipped the sign from closed to open, the bell clinked. They had their first customers of the day.
Barbie sighed and stuffed her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. She picked up two menus and nearly stopped dead at the two men sitting at their cheap plastic tables. She had been expecting truckers, not...them. Oneof the most attractive men she had ever seen was sitting next to a tall straggler. The taller one was hunched over slightly, with a long curtain of brown hair that brushed his shoulders. His hair still looked in better shape than Brenda's. His small beady eyes that spared her only a glance before resuming a conversation with his companion. The second man had short dirty blond hair that stuck up at the top, as though someone ran their fingers through it only moments ago. She couldn't help picturing some random whore running their unworthy fingers through hair that fine. She wanted to do that, and Barbie had yet to be rejected. The rest of him… he was well built, broad shoulders, square-jawed. Not in the Arnold Schwarzenegger kind of way, but in the chiseled, handsome Ken Doll kind of way. Barbie zeroed in on Ken who was easily the most attractive man she had seen in her long lifetime. A man like that who just happened to stumble into her life, her place of work, at six in the freaking morning of all times. She refused to let this opportunity close its door without giving it her all. The chances of this dreamboat being single were next to none, but she didn't care if he was freaking married!
As Barbie approached, she swung her hips widely, and flipped her hair. "What can I getcha boys," she said plopping down the menus in the center of the table.
She applauded herself on her nonchalance, yet couldn't resist her eyes roaming up and down Ken's body. Closer up, she realized just how tall Mr. Hunchy Sasquatch Straggler was. He straightened his back and looked as though he was standing up suddenly. It grossed her out. His tiny eyes explored the menu while she explored Ken's features, while his eyes were distracted.
When Ken looked up to convey his order, she jerked her eyes to her notepad, praying she had appeared more subtle than it felt. He shot her a winning smile, that made her insides melt a little, and desire stirred in her belly.
"How about ah cheese and bacon sandwich, and some coffee, black."
He was definitely American, but sure as hell not from Mississippi. She only just remembered to write down his actual words, and not to drool over how deep and gravelly that voice was. How it would feel calling her name in the throes of passion. How -
"I'll take a morning salad, with a side of yogurt please," said Sasquatch.
Barbie hmm-ed that she heard him, and collected their menus.
She twirled on the spot, careful to pop out her lower back, to extend her ass. Or as she preferred to call it, her greatest ass-et.
When she got back to the kitchen, she saw Brenda staring with her mouth open like a retarded goldfish.
"What did they say," she hissed to Barbie.
"That I'm the cuter one."
Brenda shot her a death glare.
"What, they didn't even see you," Barbie said and instantly wished that she hadn't. She could see the gears working in Brenda's tiny mind. It shouldn't bother her, it wasn't like Brenda, of all people, Brenda, was an actual threat.
Barbie needed an excuse to get back out there. She hung the slip with their orders on the rotating clip bored in front of Berney. She grabbed a fresh pitcher of tap water, two glasses, and ducked back out of the kitchen in a single motion.
She returned to find Ken and Sasquatch deep in conversation. She changed her pace, taking deliberately slow steps to have more time to overhear their conversation.
"I'm just saying dude, if we wanted to we can already hit the road by noon."
Ken leaned back, widening his delicious legs under the table. "Say's you, I'm the one who just spent eight hours on the road while you got your beauty sleep."
Sasquatch shot him a bitch glare.
Barbie wished the space between the kitchen and their table was bigger, but in no time at all she was placing their glasses in front of them with the water jug.
Sasquatch paid her no mind, content to prolong his bitch glare. Ken though...Ken shot her another megawatt grin. His teeth were immaculate, and just the right size for his mouth.
"Thanks babe," Ken said.
She ran a hand through her hair as though getting nonexistent bangs out of her eyes. She knew this gave her that perfect, I just got out of bed, sexy look. She saw the exact moment his interest peaked. The corners of his lips twitched, and a single eyebrow was raised.
"Actually, it's Barbie." She supplied.
His grin only grew wider. "Yeah, I gathered."
He pointed to her name tag. She suppressed a gasp of excitement. He was interested! He could only have noticed her name tag half hidden by stray waves of blond, if he was intently staring at her chest!
She leaned in, elbows sliding along the table, chest puffing out towards him. Her lips a breath away from his. She looked up her long lashes at him. Her eyes tracing slowly from his plump lips up towards his very masculine lashes. His eyes roamed a similar path.
"You can call me anything you want."
His Adam's apple bobbed visibly. "How about I call ya right now?"
She pulled back slightly, not wanting to be too easy. "You'll haveta wait at least fifteen minutes sugar, until my break."
He regarded her intensely. His dirty eyes betraying all the ways in which he would objectify her, like a real man. When he spoke next, his voice was huskier than before, his eyes darkening.
"What if I can't wait that long?"
Fifteen minutes later
The storage closet wasn't made to fit two people at once. They made it work. Albeit with a broom handle under her left armpit, his foot in a bucket, and the smell of bleach to fuel them. His lips tasted like oil and bacon. She was surprised when her stomach didn't twist at the taste. Barbie had eaten too much bacon in her time at the diner, but Ken had brought new meaning to an old flavor.
She shucked off his worn leather jacket, having only enough space for it to slide down to his knees. Ken interrupted this heated entanglement a moment more to shove her jacket off rather roughly.
Though the light provided by the spindly bulb above made his eyes feral, flickering in the dim light. She had never been so turned on. They fused at the lips once more. His hands roaming her back ferociously, occasionally digging his nails into her back through her shirt. Barbie's fingers fumbled for the hem of his shirt to lift it up, but he slapped her away.
She didn't break the kiss to ask; she didn't care. They could take their time if that's what he wanted. His nails dug deeper, eliciting a gasp of pleasurable pain.
Pain, that quickly morphed into something more intense and fiery. The pain sharpened, more focal. She felt something slide down her back. And then...then the pain pierced through her.
Ken leaned back as much as possible, one hand holding a blade into her back, the other wiping his mouth in disgust.
Gone was the cocky and flirty grin. Gone was the smooth lines on his face, replaced by harder strokes that could have only been painted by a killer. When he spoke, his voice lacked all the warmth of moments before. He was cold, careful...professional.
"You think I don't know what you are? You think a bit of makeup, a fucking wig? How long did you think that would hide your true face?"
"No," she gasped. Air fighting to enter her lungs. Sticky wetness flowed in rivets down her back. With a trembling hand, she grabbed her chest. She could feel it, sticking out all the way through her body. She coughed and blood dribbled out of her plump lips.
"H-Ho- Ho -" she shuttered, collapsing against him. He threw her off violently. She fell to her knees, all too aware of the different way she had imagined being on her knees like this before him.
"Seriously? Barbie? You must know to come up with a better name than that? And honestly, all that crap about being a dentist? What so you can steal their teeth for yourself, hide your fangs forever?"
He scoffed at the ridiculousness of the very notion. She found it more and more difficult to focus on his words. Her vision was swimming, her mind going numb.
I'm dying, holy fuck, I'm dying. A hunter found me...and I'm dying…
His foot tapping, impatiently waiting for her to die, would be the last thing she'd see.
Now I'll never go to dental school, was the last thing she thought.
Dean shoved his jacket back on, zipping it up to cover a small blood stain from when the bitch fell on him. She took her sweet ass time dying too.
Fuck he was tired. He drove all night while his brother slept peacefully. It was his turn for beauty sleep, damn it! Sam wanted to drive back straight away, but Dean's muscles were aching for a bed. Besides, John wasn't the one who had to freaking make out with a monster.
He pulled his ceremonial knife from her back, and carefully stepped over her. He had to shake his leg several times to dislodge the bucket, then he was forced to sit her upright, just to be able to open the door.
"Bacon wasn't even good," he mumbled over her dead body.
He grabbed a towel from one of the shelves and wiped off his knife before sheathing it. He shut the door quietly behind him. He straightened his jacket, remembering again to keep his face to the ground to avoid cameras. He didn't think a joint like this would have any, but it was simply instinct at this point.
Sam had finished his stupid salad and was standing at the checkout counter to pay as their lead waitress was...indisposed. A pretty girl with brown hair and large earrings handed Sam back his change with a shy smile.
"Ready to go?" Sam said, putting his wallet back into his pocket.
Dean nodded, licking his lips to try and rip the taste of monster chick from them. It didn't work.
They walked out with swift but calculated steps. Just fast enough to have enough time to make their getaway quickly, but slow enough to avoid suspicion.
They got into their 1960 Chevy, and with a loud purr, the engine came alive. Dean lovingly rubbed his hands over the steering wheel, before halling ass the hell out of dodge and into the nearest town in search of a hotel.
End