That's right. Supernatural & L-Word crossover, kiddies!
So here's a bit of fan fic. I introduced Offbalance to the L-Word, she introduced me to Supernatural.
The rest is history.
THEN: Tiajuna, Mexico, 200X
Dean sat in the front seat of the thing he loved most in the world.
The thing, the car, was all but a person too him. But it wasn’t the same. He wouldn’t share that with anyone. He didn’t share much. Sharing lead to talking, lead to feeling, lead to...
“Blah, blah blah. I got too much work to do. I can feel when I’m dead. “
Dean didn’t think much of any of that.
They were working a job in Cali, when word came of a Lady in White tearing through Tiajuana. There were some local hunters, but for some reason, they were staying away from it.
“Just like the Federales, turning a blind eye to the big stuff.”
So Bobby told Dean to hightail it down there. And Dean didn’t mind. While looking for this Lady In White, he had downed muchas cervezas y fajitas, seen finely toned performers do acts they’d get arrested for doing anywhere else in the Americas, and scored some high grade medicines he'd way more easily than back home.
Being a Hunter hurt. A lot. Often. Sometimes you just needed more than an asprin and a fifth of bourbon to stitch yourself back up.
Though it was very, very early in the morning, the street was lit up, the crowds were moving, and music that made no sense to his finely trained ears was everywhere.
“Can’t somebody play fricking Van Halen?”
Then, he saw it. A tall, lanky figure in a hoodie flew out of a bar and crashed onto the sidewalk. It got up, and ran down the street, towards a church. Behind it, a mist formed, and followed. Most people didn’t notice it with all the other things being cooked or smoked. But Dean figured this must be it.
He got out of the car, tossed a $20 to a kid.
“Your friends get $20 more if this is here when I get back. You get an ass kicking you will not believe if anyone even looks at her too long.”
The kid looked up at him.
“$50 when you get back or I tell the police you tried to put me in the trunk, chupacabra.”
Dean let the kid see the sawed off shotgun he had strapped to inside of his jacket.
“Done. You are one smart little bastard." Dean smiled, then turned his attention to the hunt.
The boy didn’t waste a minute, calling several of his friends in front of the car, wondering what the hell was going on.
Dean increased his speed, narrowly avoided knocking down a street walker whose beard was better than Bobby’s. The person the Lady in White was chasing had dived into the church, and the Lady was coalescing into a short, black haired…
‘Smoking hot looking Latina', Dean thought. He got his mind back in the game, and made his way inside. The Lady in the White had fully manifested, and thrown the lanky dude it was after into the pews. The figure was wearing jeans. High tops, and black nail polish. The Lady, well, she was about 5 feet off the ground and it was all Dean could do not to look up her dress.
“YOU CHEATED ON ALL OF THEM, BUT COMMITTED TO ME. TO MARRY ME!! YOU FAILED ME!!” It whispered, but somehow the whisper filled the chapel.
“How much more can I sorry?” The dude on the ground shouted out. The voice was deep, but strange. Like it was a teenager trying to sound older or something.
“He said he’s sorry!” Dean shouted out. The Lady in White turned, and Dean could have sworn he had seen her before. He certainly wished he had seen her before.
She was a wrathful dead evil bitch. But she was hot. Peitie, flowing black hair, and, oh, yeah. A killer specter out for human blood.
He opened up with one barrel of rock salt. The spectre was blown apart. But it would be back.
“And how the hell did it get into a church? These things aren’t strong enough to break holy ground?” Dean asked outloud. “Dude, you okay?” The emo kid she was haunting was trying to get up, and smelled like a combination of beer, pot, and really bad tequila.
“Dude, I’m not a dude. OK?” Shane dropped the hoodie, and looked at the gargantua who saved her from… from Carmen? “What the hell is going on? And why’d you shoot Carmen?” She took a moment to balance her self. It wasn’t often Shane had to look up to talk to someone, but this guy had a couple inches on her.
Dean blinked.
“Ok, not a dude. Sorry, but you kind a looked like a dude. I mean. You stil do, but not. I mean you’re kind a hot, but.. wait. We don’t have time. You said the thing haunting you was named…
Shane collapsed in a pew, almost passing out. But she breathed in, and leaned up.
“Carmen.”
“Carmen, right. And what did you do that was so bad she would come back from the dead to get you?” Dean kept his eyes peeled for the specter.
“Back form the dead? Dude, she’s not dead. I left her… at the altar. In Canada. I couldn’t change enough to stay with her.” Shane shook her head, looked up to Dean. “I ended up down here, and then she started chasing me. But Carmen isn’t dead. She’s not returning my calls, but she’s not dead.”
Dean looked down at the woman. He ran through the lore in his head. Sammy was better at it, but Dean had hunted on his own , and with Dad.
“You have a way with the ladies… Miss…?"
“Shane. My name is Shane. And… yeah. I do.”
“Cool… I mean, that’s cool. I’m not judging. Just.. ok. The specter chasing you is all about women getting back at cheating men… lovers. Ok. Ok. But the woman you left behind is alive…”
Shane looked up at Dean, clearly not getting where he was going with this. The amount of drugs and booze and she had been taking didn't help.
“Dude, do you have something of Carmen’s? A bracelet, a necklace, a...”
“Yeah, yeah. After we got tattoos together, she gave me this locket. She said her aunt in Mexico had blessed it as a wedding gift.” Shane fished it out, and showed it to Dean. And shouted..
‘DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK!??!” As Dean grabbed it, and ran to a baptismal.
“Her aunt, in Mexico? This is what’s she’s using to haunt you. This ain’t a real specter. This is her aunt getting back at you. Now get over here.”
Dean saw mist forming behind Shane.
“NOW!”
Shane turned her head, saw the Carmen thing forming, “Oh, Shit!”, she ran over to Dean, who handed her the shot gun.
“Now smash it. You gotta smash the locket.”
Shane looked at him. “But it’s all I have left…"
“IT WILL KILL US BOTH. NOW SMASH THE DAMN LOCKET.”
Shane choked out “I’m sorry.” She smashed the locket, and the specter of Carmen was gone in a flash of flame and brimstone. The memories, that would be a different story.
Dean took the shotgun back, and traversed the chapel, looking to see if the specter reappeared. Dean shook his head, kneeled won next to her. He waited for her to calm down a little. “It all make’s sense. Mexican hunters weren’t going near this.Why? A Mexican mystic who set this up to stalk an American who wronged an Mexican girl. You really pissed these people off.” Dean was about to chuckle, but he saw Shane sinking back to the floor.
“Whoa, whoa.. Shane.. right? Shane? You gotta get your head out of this. It’s not coming back and well… well, I need a drink. And you’re going to buy me one. Or five.”
Shane looked at Dean, who held up his hands.
“Hey, dude, it’s cool. It sounds like you and I might have a thing in or two in common. Lord knows the number of ladies who’d love to have their aunt try to kill me.”
Shane chuckled.
“Alright. But, you’re buying. I can’t find my wallet, or my passport. Or my credit cards… or keys…”
Dean hauled her up. He decided. He liked this lady. Even though he still couldn’t quite consider her a her.
“Pay me back when you get the cash?”
Shane gave him a smile. She was so not okay, but she was better than she was when she came into the church.
“Dude, I so, will pay you back. And who does your hair? Man, I can tweak your cut a little, you will be piled up in ladies…”
They stumbled out to find a bar. Dean wasn’t wracking his brains to find the means to kill a devilish specter.
He was wracking his brains to come up with his best girl stories. He had a feeling Shane could match him story for story.
The rest is history.
THEN: Tiajuna, Mexico, 200X
Dean sat in the front seat of the thing he loved most in the world.
The thing, the car, was all but a person too him. But it wasn’t the same. He wouldn’t share that with anyone. He didn’t share much. Sharing lead to talking, lead to feeling, lead to...
“Blah, blah blah. I got too much work to do. I can feel when I’m dead. “
Dean didn’t think much of any of that.
They were working a job in Cali, when word came of a Lady in White tearing through Tiajuana. There were some local hunters, but for some reason, they were staying away from it.
“Just like the Federales, turning a blind eye to the big stuff.”
So Bobby told Dean to hightail it down there. And Dean didn’t mind. While looking for this Lady In White, he had downed muchas cervezas y fajitas, seen finely toned performers do acts they’d get arrested for doing anywhere else in the Americas, and scored some high grade medicines he'd way more easily than back home.
Being a Hunter hurt. A lot. Often. Sometimes you just needed more than an asprin and a fifth of bourbon to stitch yourself back up.
Though it was very, very early in the morning, the street was lit up, the crowds were moving, and music that made no sense to his finely trained ears was everywhere.
“Can’t somebody play fricking Van Halen?”
Then, he saw it. A tall, lanky figure in a hoodie flew out of a bar and crashed onto the sidewalk. It got up, and ran down the street, towards a church. Behind it, a mist formed, and followed. Most people didn’t notice it with all the other things being cooked or smoked. But Dean figured this must be it.
He got out of the car, tossed a $20 to a kid.
“Your friends get $20 more if this is here when I get back. You get an ass kicking you will not believe if anyone even looks at her too long.”
The kid looked up at him.
“$50 when you get back or I tell the police you tried to put me in the trunk, chupacabra.”
Dean let the kid see the sawed off shotgun he had strapped to inside of his jacket.
“Done. You are one smart little bastard." Dean smiled, then turned his attention to the hunt.
The boy didn’t waste a minute, calling several of his friends in front of the car, wondering what the hell was going on.
Dean increased his speed, narrowly avoided knocking down a street walker whose beard was better than Bobby’s. The person the Lady in White was chasing had dived into the church, and the Lady was coalescing into a short, black haired…
‘Smoking hot looking Latina', Dean thought. He got his mind back in the game, and made his way inside. The Lady in the White had fully manifested, and thrown the lanky dude it was after into the pews. The figure was wearing jeans. High tops, and black nail polish. The Lady, well, she was about 5 feet off the ground and it was all Dean could do not to look up her dress.
“YOU CHEATED ON ALL OF THEM, BUT COMMITTED TO ME. TO MARRY ME!! YOU FAILED ME!!” It whispered, but somehow the whisper filled the chapel.
“How much more can I sorry?” The dude on the ground shouted out. The voice was deep, but strange. Like it was a teenager trying to sound older or something.
“He said he’s sorry!” Dean shouted out. The Lady in White turned, and Dean could have sworn he had seen her before. He certainly wished he had seen her before.
She was a wrathful dead evil bitch. But she was hot. Peitie, flowing black hair, and, oh, yeah. A killer specter out for human blood.
He opened up with one barrel of rock salt. The spectre was blown apart. But it would be back.
“And how the hell did it get into a church? These things aren’t strong enough to break holy ground?” Dean asked outloud. “Dude, you okay?” The emo kid she was haunting was trying to get up, and smelled like a combination of beer, pot, and really bad tequila.
“Dude, I’m not a dude. OK?” Shane dropped the hoodie, and looked at the gargantua who saved her from… from Carmen? “What the hell is going on? And why’d you shoot Carmen?” She took a moment to balance her self. It wasn’t often Shane had to look up to talk to someone, but this guy had a couple inches on her.
Dean blinked.
“Ok, not a dude. Sorry, but you kind a looked like a dude. I mean. You stil do, but not. I mean you’re kind a hot, but.. wait. We don’t have time. You said the thing haunting you was named…
Shane collapsed in a pew, almost passing out. But she breathed in, and leaned up.
“Carmen.”
“Carmen, right. And what did you do that was so bad she would come back from the dead to get you?” Dean kept his eyes peeled for the specter.
“Back form the dead? Dude, she’s not dead. I left her… at the altar. In Canada. I couldn’t change enough to stay with her.” Shane shook her head, looked up to Dean. “I ended up down here, and then she started chasing me. But Carmen isn’t dead. She’s not returning my calls, but she’s not dead.”
Dean looked down at the woman. He ran through the lore in his head. Sammy was better at it, but Dean had hunted on his own , and with Dad.
“You have a way with the ladies… Miss…?"
“Shane. My name is Shane. And… yeah. I do.”
“Cool… I mean, that’s cool. I’m not judging. Just.. ok. The specter chasing you is all about women getting back at cheating men… lovers. Ok. Ok. But the woman you left behind is alive…”
Shane looked up at Dean, clearly not getting where he was going with this. The amount of drugs and booze and she had been taking didn't help.
“Dude, do you have something of Carmen’s? A bracelet, a necklace, a...”
“Yeah, yeah. After we got tattoos together, she gave me this locket. She said her aunt in Mexico had blessed it as a wedding gift.” Shane fished it out, and showed it to Dean. And shouted..
‘DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK!??!” As Dean grabbed it, and ran to a baptismal.
“Her aunt, in Mexico? This is what’s she’s using to haunt you. This ain’t a real specter. This is her aunt getting back at you. Now get over here.”
Dean saw mist forming behind Shane.
“NOW!”
Shane turned her head, saw the Carmen thing forming, “Oh, Shit!”, she ran over to Dean, who handed her the shot gun.
“Now smash it. You gotta smash the locket.”
Shane looked at him. “But it’s all I have left…"
“IT WILL KILL US BOTH. NOW SMASH THE DAMN LOCKET.”
Shane choked out “I’m sorry.” She smashed the locket, and the specter of Carmen was gone in a flash of flame and brimstone. The memories, that would be a different story.
Dean took the shotgun back, and traversed the chapel, looking to see if the specter reappeared. Dean shook his head, kneeled won next to her. He waited for her to calm down a little. “It all make’s sense. Mexican hunters weren’t going near this.Why? A Mexican mystic who set this up to stalk an American who wronged an Mexican girl. You really pissed these people off.” Dean was about to chuckle, but he saw Shane sinking back to the floor.
“Whoa, whoa.. Shane.. right? Shane? You gotta get your head out of this. It’s not coming back and well… well, I need a drink. And you’re going to buy me one. Or five.”
Shane looked at Dean, who held up his hands.
“Hey, dude, it’s cool. It sounds like you and I might have a thing in or two in common. Lord knows the number of ladies who’d love to have their aunt try to kill me.”
Shane chuckled.
“Alright. But, you’re buying. I can’t find my wallet, or my passport. Or my credit cards… or keys…”
Dean hauled her up. He decided. He liked this lady. Even though he still couldn’t quite consider her a her.
“Pay me back when you get the cash?”
Shane gave him a smile. She was so not okay, but she was better than she was when she came into the church.
“Dude, I so, will pay you back. And who does your hair? Man, I can tweak your cut a little, you will be piled up in ladies…”
They stumbled out to find a bar. Dean wasn’t wracking his brains to find the means to kill a devilish specter.
He was wracking his brains to come up with his best girl stories. He had a feeling Shane could match him story for story.