Bonus Ficlet for Five Times Dean Didn't Go to Hell (and one time he did) - R - Pure SPN
Title: Bonus Ficlet for Five Times Dean Didn't Go to Hell (and one time he did)
Authors: empressvesica
Rating: R for language
Fandom: Pure SPN
Word Count: 880
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the boys for a bit. We promise to put them back like we found them, only slightly worse for the wear.
Summary: Time six (or perhaps that would be 'sex') that Dean didn't go to Hell. Tie in with 1.13 - "Route 666".
Author's Note: Props to "The Simpsons" because one episode in particular totally spawned this ficlet.
She might be Hell's messenger, but from where Dean's standing she doesn't look half bad. Long, tan legs that go for miles, tousled auburn curls and a sexy little business suit - all short skirt and plunging neckline of the lacy cami under the jacket.
At least he'll go out happy.
With a slow smirk, he can't help but make light of the situation. "I'm beginning to think Hell's got some sort kink about sending hot chicks to try and kill me."
"If that's why I was here, who says I'd have to try?" She smiles, but it isn't a warm expression in the least. "Nice to know you think this flesh suit is hot though…"
Sam shifts from foot to foot, uncomfortable with this whole thing but mostly with Dean's cavalier attitude about going to Hell. He glares at Dean but his brother isn't paying a bit of attention to him.
"Well, it was before you called it a 'flesh suit'," Dean says with a slight shudder. "Let's just get on with this, Demon. Take me al-fuckin'-ready."
"Not a patient one, are we?" she asked with a smirk of her own that can only be called devilish, setting her briefcase down on the trunk of the Impala and flicking the latches open. She pulls out a folder and flips it open. "I'm not here to take you - I can't. Hell can't."
He doesn't have a smartass reply to that one. "What?"
She leafs through the pages, one long, blood red nail tracing lines here and there until she finds the one she's looking for. "Seems your soul wasn't yours to give. Pretty tricky of you, Winchester."
This isn't making any sense to either of the boys, but it's Sam who asks. "What's she talking about, Dean?"
"Not a damned clue."
Her smirk gets wider, crueler, and she's obviously enjoying this. "The name Cassie Robinson ring a bell?"
Dean drops his head, covering his face with his hand. "Oh fuck. Tell me you're kidding…"
"Hell has no sense of humor, Deano; we don't kid."
"Cassie?" Sam asks, looking at his brother. "Wait! THAT Cassie? What about her?"
The demon starts reading from the file, her tone flat only making the words that much more embarrassing. "And I quote, 'You're mine, Dean Winchester, so don't go getting any ideas about running off with some other girl.'
'You know I won't, baby.'"
She's doing a disturbingly good imitation of both their voices and Dean sort of wishes Hell were still an option.
'Because you looooove me.' He can feel his facing growing hot at the teasing, singsong tone. Please don't let her keep reading.
'I'm all yours, babe - heart, soul, and body - though I’d be happy to provide some more proof of that last one….'
'Damn, I'm still trying to regain use of my legs from the last time, sugarbuns'. The demon does Cassie's sleepy, sultry giggle to perfection and Dean swears he hears Sam stifle a snicker.
The demon snaps the file shut, drumming her nails against the stiff paper. "This Cassie girl owns your soul. You gave it to her - pure and simple. No ownership of own soul equals no selling said soul."
"If he didn't really sell his soul, why am I still alive?" Sam asks, rather worried.
"They never read the fine print. It clearly states that if we don't claim the soul within the active period, the twelve months, we forfeit all claims. We were ready to yank it at the start of month eleven. Tried to, actually, and when it didn't work - we discovered this little bombshell.
"Like I said, pretty tricky for a so-called good guy." She tosses the folder in and closes the briefcase lid with a thump. "So, that's that. I'll just be on my way now. Fool us once, Dean Winchester…"
Sam doesn't need her to finish the thought. "Shame on you. Fool you twice…"
She gives the boys one last once over. "There isn't going to be a twice."
Dean's too busy dying of embarrassment to even enjoy watching her go - well, to really enjoy watching her go.
"So…" Sam clears his throat loudly. "Sugarbuns?"
"Shut it!" Dean throws open the car door, slides in, and shuts it with a "don't even go there" slam.
But Sam's not getting in - just leaning down to look at Dean - grinning like an idiot.
"I swear to God, Sam, if you don't wipe that fucking smile off your face and get in the damned car, I'll leave your ass out here."
Sam flops down into his seat, but the smile stays at 100 watts. "Whatever, Dean. But you'd better stop calling me the girly one. That's was, like, Lifetime Movie Network level sappy."
Dean can hear the teasing in Sam's voice and can't really stay mad. His usual smirk returns, "Yeah, maybe it was. But I'm telling you, what came before and after - wasn't anything from a damned chick flick. More like that one scene in 'Heavy Petter and the Golden Snatch'. You know which one I mean…"
Now it's Sam's turn to blush. "I totally wasn't watching that. I told you - I was flipping channels and just happened to stop there right when you walked in."
"Uh, yeah. Whatever you say, Sammy."
END.
Authors: empressvesica
Rating: R for language
Fandom: Pure SPN
Word Count: 880
Disclaimer: Not mine. Just borrowing the boys for a bit. We promise to put them back like we found them, only slightly worse for the wear.
Summary: Time six (or perhaps that would be 'sex') that Dean didn't go to Hell. Tie in with 1.13 - "Route 666".
Author's Note: Props to "The Simpsons" because one episode in particular totally spawned this ficlet.
She might be Hell's messenger, but from where Dean's standing she doesn't look half bad. Long, tan legs that go for miles, tousled auburn curls and a sexy little business suit - all short skirt and plunging neckline of the lacy cami under the jacket.
At least he'll go out happy.
With a slow smirk, he can't help but make light of the situation. "I'm beginning to think Hell's got some sort kink about sending hot chicks to try and kill me."
"If that's why I was here, who says I'd have to try?" She smiles, but it isn't a warm expression in the least. "Nice to know you think this flesh suit is hot though…"
Sam shifts from foot to foot, uncomfortable with this whole thing but mostly with Dean's cavalier attitude about going to Hell. He glares at Dean but his brother isn't paying a bit of attention to him.
"Well, it was before you called it a 'flesh suit'," Dean says with a slight shudder. "Let's just get on with this, Demon. Take me al-fuckin'-ready."
"Not a patient one, are we?" she asked with a smirk of her own that can only be called devilish, setting her briefcase down on the trunk of the Impala and flicking the latches open. She pulls out a folder and flips it open. "I'm not here to take you - I can't. Hell can't."
He doesn't have a smartass reply to that one. "What?"
She leafs through the pages, one long, blood red nail tracing lines here and there until she finds the one she's looking for. "Seems your soul wasn't yours to give. Pretty tricky of you, Winchester."
This isn't making any sense to either of the boys, but it's Sam who asks. "What's she talking about, Dean?"
"Not a damned clue."
Her smirk gets wider, crueler, and she's obviously enjoying this. "The name Cassie Robinson ring a bell?"
Dean drops his head, covering his face with his hand. "Oh fuck. Tell me you're kidding…"
"Hell has no sense of humor, Deano; we don't kid."
"Cassie?" Sam asks, looking at his brother. "Wait! THAT Cassie? What about her?"
The demon starts reading from the file, her tone flat only making the words that much more embarrassing. "And I quote, 'You're mine, Dean Winchester, so don't go getting any ideas about running off with some other girl.'
'You know I won't, baby.'"
She's doing a disturbingly good imitation of both their voices and Dean sort of wishes Hell were still an option.
'Because you looooove me.' He can feel his facing growing hot at the teasing, singsong tone. Please don't let her keep reading.
'I'm all yours, babe - heart, soul, and body - though I’d be happy to provide some more proof of that last one….'
'Damn, I'm still trying to regain use of my legs from the last time, sugarbuns'. The demon does Cassie's sleepy, sultry giggle to perfection and Dean swears he hears Sam stifle a snicker.
The demon snaps the file shut, drumming her nails against the stiff paper. "This Cassie girl owns your soul. You gave it to her - pure and simple. No ownership of own soul equals no selling said soul."
"If he didn't really sell his soul, why am I still alive?" Sam asks, rather worried.
"They never read the fine print. It clearly states that if we don't claim the soul within the active period, the twelve months, we forfeit all claims. We were ready to yank it at the start of month eleven. Tried to, actually, and when it didn't work - we discovered this little bombshell.
"Like I said, pretty tricky for a so-called good guy." She tosses the folder in and closes the briefcase lid with a thump. "So, that's that. I'll just be on my way now. Fool us once, Dean Winchester…"
Sam doesn't need her to finish the thought. "Shame on you. Fool you twice…"
She gives the boys one last once over. "There isn't going to be a twice."
Dean's too busy dying of embarrassment to even enjoy watching her go - well, to really enjoy watching her go.
"So…" Sam clears his throat loudly. "Sugarbuns?"
"Shut it!" Dean throws open the car door, slides in, and shuts it with a "don't even go there" slam.
But Sam's not getting in - just leaning down to look at Dean - grinning like an idiot.
"I swear to God, Sam, if you don't wipe that fucking smile off your face and get in the damned car, I'll leave your ass out here."
Sam flops down into his seat, but the smile stays at 100 watts. "Whatever, Dean. But you'd better stop calling me the girly one. That's was, like, Lifetime Movie Network level sappy."
Dean can hear the teasing in Sam's voice and can't really stay mad. His usual smirk returns, "Yeah, maybe it was. But I'm telling you, what came before and after - wasn't anything from a damned chick flick. More like that one scene in 'Heavy Petter and the Golden Snatch'. You know which one I mean…"
Now it's Sam's turn to blush. "I totally wasn't watching that. I told you - I was flipping channels and just happened to stop there right when you walked in."
"Uh, yeah. Whatever you say, Sammy."
END.