Summary: New neighbours, a fight and an accident beset the pet mud-monkeys' lives. AU Sam/Dean Gabriel/Castiel unrelated slash. Sequel to 'A Walkies On The Wild Side' and 'The Sidewalk-Burger'.

A/N: Contains hopefully humorous candid language. Please don't read if easily offended. This story takes place in an earthlike Heaven where the people are angels and their pet mud-monkeys (ref. S04E07) are simple humans. Everyone looks exactly like they do on the show. No furry beasts here.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its fandom, its characters or anything connected to them. I do not make money or profit in any way from this story.

A/N: And now the final chapter...

Hey Babe (Part 5) by frostygossamer

Still recuperating, his very busy day had tired Dean out. After dinner he took himself upstairs to the linen closet for a five minute nap. He was just getting comfy with his head pillowed on one of Castiel's old sweaters, when the door flew open and Sam came rushing in panting. The big muddie slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against it, trembling and shaking.

"What the frick? Whassup, mudz?" Dean demanded, switching directly into protect and defend mode. "Flying monkeys? Heffalumps? Giant Gummi Bears? Mailmen? What?"

Sam fought to control his breathing. "Zoom-zoom," he gasped. "Master has the zoom-zoom."

"Freakin' zoom-zoom," Dean scoffed, immediately relaxing. "Dude, the zoom-zoom's NUTHIN'."

Having lived with neat-freak Castiel all his life, Dean was used to the vacuum. Sam, whose owner Gabriel was anything but houseproud, still considered it an unnatural abomination.

"'S nasty," Sam asserted. "Growls all the damn time 'Zum-Zum-Zum' and eats everythin' it freakin' finds."

"The zoom-zoom's Master's juju. 'S not nasty, mudz. Eats dirt and dust bunnies, not muddies," Dean informed him. "Bein' a dumb-ass."

Dean tried to sound blas , even though, like all muddies, he couldn't help but find the vacuum somewhat disturbing himself. Its noise, its vibration and its uncaring ruthlessness made his skin creep. Sam was a little offended that his friend should call him 'dumb-ass' in the face of a very real threat like a zoom-zoom.

"IS nasty!" he insisted. "And 's comin' upstairs right freakin' now!"

Dean twitched. Even HE was a little unnerved by a zoom-zoom actually coming AT him. But he knew he had to appear strong for his Beta. That was what being an Alpha was all about.

"Ifn we keep the door shut REAL freakin' tight and be REAL freakin' quiet, the zoom-zoom's not gonna know we're in here," he reasoned.

He joined Sam leaning up against the door. Sam nudged up against him.

"Dude, 's OK," Dean assured his friend. "We're gonna be FINE in here."

Sam felt a little better with Dean at his side. Safety in numbers. "Yep," he agreed, hopefully.

So they held their breaths and waited unmoving until they heard the sound of the offending machine retreat back downstairs. When they heard the growling finally switched off, they shared a relieved sigh.

"Gone," Dean pronounced, sliding to the floor.

"Good," Sam said firmly, trying to sound like he hadn't been terrified a minute ago.

Sam's body was still shaking, electricity still coursing through his veins. It felt like he had just been in a fight, a fight with his own fear of the vacuum. Dean wasn't entirely unaffected either.

"Dude, now I'm all shook up inside. Reckon I need me a little fuxy," he suggested. "All strung out. You up?"

Dean pondered for an instant. "Sure," he answered. "Good fuxy'd help me get back to sleep." Like he would have been able to sleep the way he felt anyways.

The smaller muddie was sitting on the floor with his naked back still pressed against the door. Sam crept over and slurped his wet tongue along his friend's member. Little Dean was already trembling with excitement and immediately stood to attention. Sam crawled between Dean's thighs and quickly positioned himself comfortably on Dean's little flagpole. He rode him for a while and then he smirked, tipping up Dean's face and rubbing his nose against his friend's.

"Feel good now, dude," he murmured, relaxing into their rhythm.

Sam had recently discovered that, whenever anything bad occurred around them, a bit of bareback rodeo really helped to take both their minds off of it. His eyes, once big and sorrowful, were betrayed by his tongue peeking lasciviously from the corner of his mouth.

"Mmm," Dean agreed. "Feel WAY good. Always feel freakin' good inside you, mudz."

Sam darted his lips toward Dean, trying to capture a sneaky kiss. Dean flinched away automatically, but his smile soon returned.

"Weird-ass," he admonished playfully, recognizing that Sam had just been through something and giving him the benefit of the doubt.

He squeezed his ass and was immediately rewarded by the interesting sensation of Sam spurting deep within him.

"Love it when you call me that," Sam admitted softly, repaying the favour with a couple skillful tugs.

"Weird-ass," Dean repeated, as they collapsed into a comfortable sleepy heap.

~xXx~

A few days later, Castiel opened his front door to find Gabriel dancing on his threshold. He was pleasantly surprised. He hadn't expected the archangel to be back in town for another day.

"Hiya, Cas baby," Gabriel cried. "You pleased to see me? Sure you're pleased to see me. Who wouldn't be? And me with such GREAT news."

"Great news?" Castiel wondered, as the archangel steamed past him into the house. "What great news, Gabe?"

"About Zachariah and his vexatious lawsuit. And about your Deano and his imperilled baubles."

"What?" Castiel asked, confused.

He shut the door and followed his lover into the kitchen, where he found him guzzling the cereal he had just put out for himself. Gabriel waved a piece of paper under his nose.

"Paternity test!" he cried triumphantly. "Dean's illegitimate mud-pup isn't."

"Isn't what?" Castiel queried.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Isn't DEAN's," he emphasized. "The boy's home free. Some other mucky mudder has been sowing his wild oats with Zachariah's pretty. Not your baby."

Castiel felt relief wash over him.

"I knew it. Dean's such a GOOD muddie. I knew he couldn't be to blame," he gasped.

"Well, I wouldn't be so sure," Gabriel snickered. "Wouldn't have put it past that horny brute. But... not on THIS occasion."

He grabbed Castiel and planted a smacker on him.

"On THIS occasion we got away with it," he grinned. "AND that douchebag Zachariah got a slap in the kisser. Which has always gotta be good."

Castiel clapped his hands and called their mud-monkeys into the kitchen. They were there in half a second. Calls to the kitchen were NEVER ignored. There could be food involved.

The angel gave Dean a cookie and patted him on the head.

"Looks like I was wrong to doubt you, Dean. You've been a good boy after all. Lisa's mud-pup isn't yours."

Dean only got the 'good boy' out of that. His mouth full of cookie, he conveyed his confusion to Sam with his eyes. Sam was busy trying to fix Castiel with a guilt-inducing stare, intended to elicit a cookie for him too.

When the puppy-dog look eventually worked, Sam took his prize out into the back yard, so they could have some privacy to talk away from angels' ears. His friend padded after him.

Gabriel, who had finished Castiel's cereal and started in on his latte, watched the pets wriggle out through their mud-flap.

"Cas honey," he said. "I just dunno how Father trusts those screwy-ass mud-monkeys to bring about His Kingdom on Earth. I told you they're the hinge pin of his Divine Plan, right? The chessmen on the greatest damn chessboard of all existence?"

"Father knows what he's doing," Castiel maintained. "They're essentially GOOD creatures. Dumb but good."

"Just as well they're dumb," the little archangel chuckled. "If they ever got smarts I reckon they could be dangerous."

~xXx~

Out in the back yard, the two muddies were free to talk over their cookie snacks.

"Well?" Dean prompted, with a mouth full of crumbs.

"Master says you're not gonna be a daddy," Sam interpreted.

"Wha-?!" Dean yelped, dropping his half-eaten cookie. "Was gonna be a daddy?!"

"Nah," Sam replied quickly. "Sounds like the angels reckoned it was YOU got Lisa all pupped-up."

Dean's face cycled through a series of emotions: surprise, disappointment, relief, confusion.

"Lisa was freakin' pupped-up?!" he queried, all innocent. "Since when?"

Sam rolled his eyes and blew his bangs up off of his face. Dean could be a little dense sometimes.

"Since you climbed the back fence, mudz," he explained tetchily. "'S why the starchy-ass angel next door got hisself so mad at you."

"Oh," Dean said, as he retrieved his part cookie, feeling a little dazed by his fast transition to expectant parent and back again. "Figured he was just freakin' nasty."

"He IS nasty," Sam agreed. "And he was freakin' mad with Master about Lisa."

Dean considered. He felt a little irked that anyone would be mad at his precious master. He was very protective of Castiel. He made a mental note to scratch something of Zachariah's or pee on his car sometime.

"So who pupped-up Lisa?" he asked.

"Let's go ask her," Sam suggested, gobbling the last of his cookie as he approached the back yard fence.

"Hi! Lisa! You there?" he called.

There was no one in Zachariah's back yard but, after a moment, their neighbour mudette squeezed her way out through her back door mud-flap looking a mite flustered.

"Whaddya want, boys?" she asked. "Caught me just about to attend to my toilette."

Fancy mud-chick word. Sam decided to just pretend he understood what that was.

"Hi, Lisa, got a question for ya," he explained.

"Fire away," Lisa encouraged, rubbing her bulbous midriff happily.

"You see that pretty round belly of yours? Who made it that way?"

Lisa looked puzzled. "Lisa made it that way, I guess," she answered. "Just kinda grew."

Dean came to stand next to him on tippytoes as Sam rolled his eyes.

Sam tried again. "What we wanna know is, who you been diddled by got you that way, Lisa."

Lisa considered. "Not rightly sure," she replied.

"Was round about the time you made humpy with my Dean," Sam prompted helpfully.

Lisa looked even more confused. "Never made humpy with your Dean," she said. "Dean didn't wanna. Had sumthin' else on his mind."

Sam's eyebrows rose in surprise. He threw a glance at Dean whose expression was inscrutable.

"Then who?" Sam probed.

"Dunno," Lisa replied blankly.

Apparently the question had never occurred to her. She turned to go back inside then suddenly stopped.

"Oh, yeah. I 'member. Was some gorge-ass freerunner I bumped into in the park. Master was takin' a nap. Big, strong mudder with attitude and a mudly scar over his nose, and a humongous..."

Sam and Dean were both so shocked at the revelation they nearly yelped. They looked at each other.

"That freakin' freeborn!" they both gasped together.

Lisa had been foffed by the quarrelsome MUTT that the two of them had crossed swords with, that battleful day in the Elysian Fields.

"That lousy freakin' mudder!" Dean growled. "Freerunner? He's a freakin' BUM!"

Lisa snorted prettily. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I got toilette to attend to," she said politely and squeezed back indoors.

Dean and Sam sat down on the grass dumbstruck for a few minutes.

Then Sam commented, "Guess what goes around comes around, mudz."

"How you figure that, dude?" Dean asked.

"You bite that freakin' wild-ass mudder, he almost gits you fixed's what I mean," Sam explained.

Sam had himself some impressively philosophical thoughts sometimes. He was a very smart muddie.

Dean's eyebrows flew up. "How'd I almost git fixed?" he demanded.

"Nasty neighbour angel wanted Master to git you to the vet, over Lisa," Sam explained.

"Oh." Dean felt faintly alarmed in retrospect.

Sam stretched his long body out on the grass and pondered a bit more, then he had a curious thought.

"So you never poked Lisa, huh?"

"Nope."

Sam felt a huge weight lift from his heart. He had been more than a little cut up that his friend might have been secretly getting too sociable with their alluring neighbour. Somehow it had hurt to think he had to share him with a mud-chick, that HE wasn't enough for Dean.

"So what you doin' sneakin' over the fence into the neighbour's back yard, if it wasn't to git your freak on, dude?" he asked.

Dean's green eyes evaded his shiftily.

"Spill it, mudz!" Sam prodded.

Dean gave a deep sigh. "Dude, just attendin' to my toilette," he paraphrased Lisa.

Yet again Sam wasn't any the wiser. "Don't git that, mudz. What's 'toilette'?"

Dean sighed again and confessed, "Lisa's gotten herself a deluxe litter tray. Big, pink, comfy-ass freakin' thing full of sparkly, good smellin' sand. 'S peachy."

He smiled at the happy memory. Oh, how he missed his own litter tray.

Sam gasped. "You been climbin' the fence to sneak your poop into Lisa's sand box? That's not even funny!"

Dean looked away, embarrassed.

"Well, nobody asked ME ifn I wanned Master to trash MINE," he grumbled self-righteously. "HATE poopin' in the back yard. 'S undignified."

Sam had to laugh. In fact Sam had to roll on the ground clutching his belly.

"Ha! Ha! Ha! 'S hilarious," he gasped, though tears of joy. "Prissy-ass Zachariah's been takin' out your poop all this time. 'S classic!"

Dean started to chuckle along.

"Yeah," he agreed. "'S cool."

~xXx~

Late that night, as the boys lay curled up together in their basket, Sam broached a subject that had been worrying him since he had first overheard Zachariah's accusations about Dean's encroachments into enemy territory.

He licked at Dean's ear to get his attention.

"Dude, you like mud-chicks?" he asked.

"Sure. Mud-chicks are good," Dean agreed, sleepily.

Sam whimpered and pulled Dean closer against his chest.

"You like mudettes more than Sam?" Sam probed nervously.

Dean tucked his chin into Sam's broad shoulder and pondered for a moment.

"You give better sucky," he said. "Chicks can bite. Cos they dunno how much it hurts. Plus they don't give pokey. Like me some pokey."

He wrapped his arms around Sam's hips, rubbing up against him.

"Like Sam a whole lot," he murmured into his friend's shoulder. "You're comfy... and freakin' big... everyplace."

Sam let a pleased smile warm his face.

"Good," he pronounced. "Like you WAY better than any chick I met, mudz."

After a couple minutes silence, Sam spoke again, "Dude, you even know what 'love' means?"

Dean forced his sleep-fuddled eyes to focus. "Sure I do," he asserted.

He wasn't some doofus, now was he? It wasn't a hard word to know. His master, Castiel, used it ALL the time. It was something to do with good things like food, warmth and touching. He grinned and stretched his arms wide in an embracing gesture.

"C'mon here and gimme kiss-kiss," he commanded.

Sam bobbed forward and found his friends lips with his own. They kissed tonsil-deep for a whole minute, then Sam straightened up again.

"THERE," Dean declared. "You're my kiss-kiss-muddie. 'S what you are. And that's 'love' right there, mudz."

Sam considered. "Sharing your bowl, your hole and your soul, 's love. I guess sharing kiss-kiss, 's love too."

Sam could be a super-deep philosophical mud-monkey at times.

Dean marvelled at Sam's wisdom. "Mudz, you're smart," he praised him.

Sam beamed proudly, feeling a delightful warmth surging up inside him at his Alpha's compliment.

"Like you way better than any mud-chick ever," he declared.

Dean chuckled. "'S cos I let you do freakin' kinky stuff, like kiss-kiss," he suggested.

He kissed the big muddie again full on the lips, moaning softly.

Sam growled. "You give REAL good mouth," he murmured. "Hot-smexy-lips."

He pulled the soft mock-tiger faux-fur blanket that was under his back over the two of them, so that it covered both their naked bodies and they were wrapped up inside it together. Dean wriggled a little, missing the night air on his bare skin.

"Dean, shush," Sam whispered. "Lay still, mudz. Lemme ninety-nine you this way."

Liking the sound of it, Dean stopped struggling and lay quiet, as Sam shifted position so they could spoon. Sam raised Dean's knee gently with his left hand, and ran an invisible right thumb over his expectant rear entrance.

"Know my way by touch," he purred into Dean's ear.

Dean gasped as the sudden realization hit him. His friend Sam was a PERVERT! The big muddie was into ALL kinds of deviant stuff, like kiss-kiss, and now sex-under-a-blanket!

Now mud-monkey sex was meant to be a social convention, something done out of politeness or necessity, in public, all honest and aboveboard. Sex in a quiet place, like among the bushes in the park, wasn't so bad. Even sex in the linen closet wasn't too sneaky, just practical. But sex performed under a blanket? That was terribly naughty, inappropriate and utterly un-mudlike! Only ANGELS did stuff like that!

Dean wondered wildly if he should report this behaviour to his master.

But then there was that luscious sensation of Sam's spit-slippery dibber stealthily sliding into his welcoming hole beneath a fluffy covering of wool, and Dean's doubts vanished. Sam pervy felt good. He could live with a pervy Sam.

For the first time in Dean's life he experienced coming under cover. It felt wonderfully dirty.

"Dude, you're a fork fiend," Dean hissed. "You know that?"

Sam chuckled. "Mudz, you freakin' LOVE it," he hissed back.

Dean had no answer to that. Because he so did.

~xXx~

Everything should have been fine except Dean still had a problem that prevented him living a totally carefree life. There were just some things he couldn't ever accept. Like outdoor dumping.

"So wish I had back my litter tray, mudz," he whined one day, returning from a little trip into the shrubbery.

Sam, laying on the hearthrug, raised himself on one elbow and thought a bit.

"You were goin' 'bout it the wrong way, mudz," he said. "Never gonna git yourself a litter box just by poopin' at Lisa's."

Dean grumbled to himself. "'S freakin' unfair."

"What you gotta do is force Master's hand. That's what you gotta do," Sam suggested archly.

Dean looked puzzled. "Like how?" he demanded.

"Poop on the damn rug!" his friend declared.

Dean's expression changed to one of shocked disgust.

"Ugh!" he groaned. "Dude, not some untrained mud-pup anymore," he said. "This muddie's properly HOUSEBROKEN. NEVER poop on the floor."

"Ah," Sam responded. "But you gotta SHOW Master. Gotta SHOW him you NEED a tray. Only way."

Dean considered that a while, but then he shook his head violently.

"Nope, mudz. No way," he said. "Can't freakin' do it."

Sam rolled his eyes. He had given Dean his advice and the stubborn mudder refused to take it. What could he do?

"Hmm, got a plan," he said mysteriously.

~xXx~

Next morning Dean found out exactly what he had been planning.

"What in...?" cried Castiel, hopping on one leg as he examined his slipper.

He had just stepped in something warm and squishy in the corner of the room, where Dean's litter box generally used to stand. The two muddies ran in at the sound of their master calling.

"Dean?! Are you responsible for this?" the angel demanded.

Sam glared pointedly at Dean who shot him daggers.

"Me?! Nah!" Dean growled under his breath.

Sam went and sat at Castiel's feet, his face a picture of innocence.

"Well, I know it wouldn't be your fault, Sam," Castiel said, patting Sam on the head. He knew Sam was an inveterate alfresco pooper. "Dean, I'm ashamed of you." He wagged a finger at his incriminated pet.

Dean looked righteously indignant. "Nuh-uh!" he grunted, as Sam snickered from between Castiel's legs.

Castiel sighed as he went to get something to clean up the mess. Returning with disinfectant and a bucket and scrub brush, he got down on his knees and started to scrub.

"I guess if you're going to have problems staying clean I'm going to have to get you another tray, huh?" he mumbled as he scrubbed.

Sam grinned widely. "Result!" he yelped. Dean was far from happy.

"You wanned a new sandbox, mudz," Sam pointed out.

"Didn't need a rep as a poop-artist," Dean retorted.

Sam laughed. "Sometimes to git what you want you gotta make sacrifices," he said wisely.

Dean snorted and walked away. "Guess I know what YOU're gonna be sacrificing tonight," he smirked.

"Uh?" Sam gulped.

It looked like conjugal visitation was going to be withheld until Dean forgave him.

Dean did forgive him, eventually.

~xXx~

In due time Lisa's mud-pup was born, an event apprehensively awaited by her master, tensely by Castiel, gleefully by Gabriel and interestedly by her two muddie neighbours.

When the time of her birthing finally arrived, Lisa was whisked off by Zachariah to the vet's plush delivery facilities, for a supervised confinement. There would be no pile of old towels and newspaper on the kitchen floor for Zachariah's darling.

The tiny mud-puppy was as pink and as cute as any infant creature could be. Almost cherubic in its adorable helplessness, it clung to Lisa's bosom. Overnight, the silly, immature mudette instinctively transformed into the very image of maternal wisdom.

Dean and Sam knew nothing of all this until Lisa reappeared in her back yard, nursing the little scamp.

"Hey, look!" yelled Sam, glimpsing the small, swaddled butt from over the fence. "Lisa's squeezed out her munchkin."

Dean clambered through the kitchen mud-flap and trotted across, keen to see the new arrival. Dean totally adored munchkins.

"Show me!" he yelped eagerly.

Lisa lifted the infant high to show it off to her friends.

"Ooh, it's a FAT one," Sam complimented her.

"Uh-huh," Dean agreed. "Looks like a rosy-ass little son-of-a-mudder, huh?"

Lisa grinned proudly. "It's kinda fugly," she chuckled. "But it sure knows how to yowl."

"Kinda like its daddy," Sam remarked dryly. "So. What sort is it? Mudly or mudette?"

Lisa turned the bundle over and checked out its underside.

"Looks like it's a he," she answered. "Sure SOUNDS like it's a he too."

Sam and Dean ignored that pointed denigration of their gender.

"Your master given it a name yet?" Dean queried, expecting the fancy-pants angel would have chosen some sniffy moniker like Beauregard or Montmorency.

"Master likes to call it 'Ben'," Lisa answered.

"Good name," Dean declared. "Nice short name like me and Sam, good for yellin' in the park."

"Too little for the park," Lisa returned sharply. "Could git hurt, playin' with the big mudders."

"Don't worry," Dean assured her. "Me and Sam'll take care of little Ben. Make sure no one's cruel to him or hurts him. Promise."

Lisa smiled back. "You're such a good muddie, Dean," she said. "Trust you to take care of my munchkin. Just so long as YOU don't push him around."

"Never," Dean swore. "Never hurt a mud-pup, ever."

Sam looked on amd smiled. He loved to see his Dean so happy. Maybe pet-muds, like they were, weren't going to get to breed, but at least they would get to be playmate and guard-mud to other little mud-fry. He could tell Dean was going to enjoy playing adopted sire to the new little tyke, and what made Dean happy made Sam happy too.

Yes, life in Holy City was perfectly peachy.

THE END

A/N: That's it for this time. Hope you enjoyed the story. I may revisit the Walkies-verse again sometime so watch out.

In the meantime remember I tweet gen one-line and mini-fic on Twitter. If you tweet please do follow me. My twitter account is frostygossamer. If you're not on Twitter then why not? It's free and you already know one person to follow, and I'll follow you back.

And a MERRY CHRISTMAS to you!