Okay, so it looks like FFN has some serious bug iss-ews at the moment: notifications, reviews and emails are all screwed up. Little Beau-Ponty the plot bunny has had only a few reviews to nibble on for the last two chapters, but he's kept on dictating, the brave little poppet. Rather than wait until the problems are sorted out, I'll keep posting chapters as he dictates them; I am trusting all the Denizens, Visitors, Lurkers and Casual Droppers In of the Jimiverse to do the compassionate thing and keep a sad old review addict supplied. I post chapters, you leave a review for each one before you move on to the next one. Do we have a deal? Good. No, I don't want your soul, I know where it's been...

Chapter Twenty-Four

Sam did a completely convincing goldfish impression. "Dean?" he stuttered. "Were you... I mean, are you saying that you... you were actually... you were really..."

"Ohhhh, yeah, Sam, I was really," Dean glared at his baby brother, "I was really really, until your impeccable timing ruined everything."

Sam gave up on goldfish, and went for fancy koi. "But... but... but... she cursed you! You were intent on ganking her! I thought you were angry at me because I didn't interrupt early enough!"

"She's right," Dean nodded thoughtfully, "It clearly is possible for a smart guy to be incredibly dumb. And yeah, when they screw up, the results can be, for want of a better word, spectacular."

"WHAT? I was supposed to find and destroy her altar!"

"And you couldn't wait another ten seconds?"

"The plan was for me to do it as quietly, but as quickly, as possible!"

"Seriously, if you were out here and you couldn't figure out what was goin' on in there, then I have clearly taught you nothing."

"I thought it was an act!"

"I'm disappointed rather than angry, Sam."

"It was supposed to be an act! It was supposed to be just another performance for a job!"

"Oh it was a performance, Sammy, even without his own usually devastatingly hot meatsuit the Living Sex God was giving a virtuoso performance, before you interrupted with the worst possible timing."

"Dean, you told me that it was absolutely crucial that I stop you from having sex with an unhot woman!"

"Ohhhh, Sammy, this woman does not count as unhot, let me tell you..."

"Stop. Stop. Right. There." Sam took a deep breath, shot his brother an eloquent Bitchface #7™ (You Can Be Impossibly Unreasonable Dean, You Know That?), and visibly reined in his temper. "Just right now, I can't... I can't even." He turned back to Karen with a scowl. "So, these guys you seek to have curse, the have to learn not to be an asshole, or die," he nodded. "Hard lesson."

It was Karen's turn to look genuinely bemused. "What? There was no time limit on it, they just had to say something heartfelt to compliment a woman! Any woman! This wasn't a death curse!"

"Maybe not intentionally," Dean told her, "But some guys did die."

Sam enjoyed a small uncharitable stab of grim satisfaction at the confusion on Karen's face. "Yeah, they did," he confirmed. "Maybe that wasn't part of your curse, but it was a direct consequence: at least one was trying desperately to improve the Average Joe body you landed him with, and had a heart attack, others fell victim to the statistics of the physiological consequences of chronic pathology: liver failure confirmed in at least one case."

Karen's face became one of horrified understanding as she sat down heavily on one of the mismatched chairs. "But... I didn't want anybody to die..."

"You were petitioning a god, Loki, for fuck's sake," Sam snapped. "A Trickster! Did you really think you could do that and walk away unscathed? Gods don't think the way humans do! They sure as hell don't have the same sort of moral boundaries that humans usually do. It's like a computer: it might do what you tell it, but that won't necessarily be the same thing as what you want. Stuff like this has consequences, Karen. Using the occult, there is always a cost, there are always consequences. You have to know that."

"Yeah, I do." She dropped her gaze. "At least, I thought I knew." She drew in a shaky breath. "So, I'm, I'm actually... I have some responsibility for... for..."

"I agree with you on one thing," Sam huffed in exasperated annoyance, "That 'college educated' and 'plain dumb' can sometimes co-exist in the same person. And when they screw up, it sure is pretty damned 'spectacular'."

"You wanted to teach arrogant guys a lesson about arrogance," Dean noted, "Looks like you got a lesson, too. Yup, that's Loki. God, he's such an asshole, next time I see him I'm gonna punch him in the face, then I'll Molotov him."

Karen's eyes bugged. "You've... you've met Loki? I mean, okay, you're obviously Hunters, that I can figure out, but... seriously?"

"Yeah," Sam grimaced. "Don't be impressed. We weren't."

"He's a total dick," confirmed Dean, "In fact, he's actually a..."

"A complete jerk," Sam finished, surreptitiously kicking Dean in the ankle. "Seriously, don't go around venerating a jerk like him, it'll just encourage him."

"I won't. There won't be any more curses." Karen looked somewhat shell-shocked. "I'm... sorry. Dean, I'm sorry. I'll make one last petition for any that are still in force to be lifted, then I won't curse anybody else. I promise." She swallowed. "I, uh, that is, do you think we might avoid the whole, um, ganking thing? Only, I'm not that far off submission of my thesis now..."

"Nobody's ganking anybody," Dean cut in firmly, over-riding a squawk of surprise from Sam (who had been about to launch into his Dean Please Stop And Think About Alternatives To Ganking Here speech). "Karen, you're like a superhero – you've got something amazing, an ability that ordinary people don't have, something that sets you apart from them, above them, even. So yeah, you are, in that respect, better than them. It's okay to say that, and think that, because it's true, and false modesty sucks. But it's like they say in all those comics: with great power comes great responsibility. You gotta decide how you're gonna use it. I really hope you'll choose to be one of the good guys, and do your thang, use your talent, for the benefit of others, and just basically be a decent human being. And that includes not being a dick to other human beings, no matter how much they might deserve it. It's not for you, or me, to judge who gets cosmic comeuppance. Concentrate on just bein' the best you that you can be. All those shallow, arrogant guys will find out, one day, that their hotness is not forever, and if that's all they ever had, well, they aint gonna have anything to fall back on, and they won't be anybody, and nobody will look at 'em twice. But you'll still be somebody. And you will get the last laugh on all of 'em."

Karen gave him a wobbly little smile. "It's a bit long for a bumper sticker," she managed, "But if you can spin it out a bit, maybe you can write a self-help book."

"Nah," Dean waved a hand dismissively – then stopped, and clutched at the comforter wrapped around himself – "I'll leave the writing to the smart people. I'm a Hunter. And now I'm back to my awesome self," he smiled at his reflection in the window," I'll be right back to saving people, Hunting things..."

"It's the family business," Sam smiled at his brother.

Karen dropped her face into her hands, then looked up. "Look, I can't say that it's been a pleasure meeting you guys," she began, "Well, actually, yeah, Dean, I can say that in the end it was a definitely a pleasure meeting you..."

"I am just that awesome," the Living Sex God sighed happily.

"But... thanks. I'm not sure what I'm thanking you for, but... yeah. Thanks." She stood up. "And now, there is unfinished business to attend to."

The Killer Smile, in all its smouldering come-hither glory, slid back onto Dean's face where it was always intended to be. "Absolutely," he drawled, "So, Sam, if you'll excuse us..."

"Oh, not that!" she laughed and slapped him playfully on the arm, then became serious. "I mean, my petition to Loki to lift any remaining curses. I have to get onto that."

"Well, yeah," Dean agreed, "That's important, but..."

"Now, Geoffrey's hard drive has been wiped," Karen sounded like she was talking to herself more than anybody else, "But the data I need is all still there, it's just a case of downloading it, reinstalling it, maybe reconfiguring it for a faster OS..."

"Okay, so, do that," Dean suggested, "But you know how long data can take to download, so, while it's doin' that circling thing, maybe we can..."

"The laptop won't handle it," Karen muttered. "Not Geoffrey, my current one. She's top of the line, but not good enough for this; I'll have to use the machines in the lab..."

"Well, first thing in the morning, you can get right on that," Dean persisited, "But right now, why don't we..."

Karen brushed past him. "I have run time priority overnight," she said, "Most senior students get priority, especially getting close to submission – if I get in there now, I can start the download, it'll go quicker, I can probably have it pulled back by sunrise, then if I can get it all formatted, I'll have to write a script for that..."

"But..." Dean caught her arm. "Karen, we have unfinished business too!"

She paused, as if shaking herself out of a reverie. "Oh. Oh!" She laughed, and gave him a sheepish smile. "Sorry, guys, I was in the zone. Dean, I am so sorry," she told him, "But, I have to do this. Please don't be offended. I mean, you were great, you were, yeah, you were awesome..."

"So, take advantage while you can!" Dean practically yelped, "Because we'll be on the road tomorrow, out of town, headed for another Hunt..."

"I wish I could," Karen sounded regretful. "I really, really wish I could - and the idea of you now as you really are, whoa, you are one hot guy, Dean Winchester, but this is important. More important than what I want. I miss out on awesome sex with a really hot guy – I'll think of it as part of my penance. Making sure nobody else dies because of me is more important than me enjoying myself. No matter how much fun it clearly would be."

"But what about me?" Dean actually wailed. "I haven't almost killed anyone!"

"Well, not recently, anyway," Sam added. "Think of it as part of your penance for bein' an arrogant hot guy," he told Dean with a beaming smile.

"Come on, let's get dressed," Karen told Dean in a businesslike fashion. "We both have things to do."

"Yeah! Each other!" Dean exclaimed.

"Not tonight, bro," Sam tried to keep the amusement out of his voice. "Go on, get dressed, and we'll be on our way. Hey cheer up," he told his brother's retreating back, "You're you again!"

"Yeah, yeah, and a whole lotta good it's gonna do me tonight," Dean grumbled, heading back into the bedroom.

Karen emerged first and began to gather her things in preparation for heading back to her lab. "I want to start right away," she told Sam, handing him a key, "Here, I've got the spare. Lock up when you go and leave it in the mailbox."

"Will do," he promised. "Hey, good luck with the thesis."

She smiled over her shoulder. "Good luck to you, Sam Winchester."

"Karen..."

"Joke! Joke!" She paused, and turned. "I'm afraid that one will kind of fizzle out after a week or so by itself. Sorry."

"Figures," Sam sighed to himself, watching her hurry to her car, "Hot guys getting cursed, it's so powerful some of 'em end up dead; I get hit with good luck, and it fades away by itself. That right there is Winchester Luck. Dean!" His brother still hadn't emerged from the bedroom. "Get a move on."

"Goin' as fast as I can here, Sam," came the reply.

"Doesn't seem like it from out here," Sam consulted his watch, "What the hell are you doing in there?"

There was the briefest hesitation before Dean answered. "I, uh, I just gotta get dressed, Sam, you know, get decently covered, and, uh, you know, zipped up, soon as I can..."

Understanding bloomed in Sam's mind, and he tried hard not to laugh out loud.

"She was that good, huh?"

"Sam, this is not the time..."

"Want me to see if she's got any ice in the freezer?"

"I hate you."

Poor Dean - being mean to him is just too much fun. Leave a review before you move on to the next one. Go on, I'm watching you...