Cupid Chaos


Cupid causes embarrassment and mayhem for the Winchester brothers. Not a romance fic, and definitely not Wincest -just a bit of fun in honour of the day.


Nope, nothing Supernatural belongs to me, except a fair sized SN and Jared Padalecki obsession. LOL. Shh – don't tell him! And did you see last week's epi? JP's acting blew me away!

Author's Note

Dedicated to Sifi and Beist. Two of the best Beta's a fic writer could ask for, not to mention two friends who continually brighten my day – thank you! The naked scene is thanks to Sifi. But if it sucks, there's no-one to blame but me! Hoping I don't disappoint and that you guys enjoy this. Please let me know what you think! I'm justing hoping someone actually finds it funny...:)


Rated T for language, nudity and innuendo. Some characters mentioned from Season 2, but no real plot spoilers.


Sam was awoken by Dean returning late from the bar, a huge beaming grin lighting his brother's features. He'd missed that lighthouse strength smile. Since Dad, well since the whole 'secret', Dean had been more serious, less gregarious and Sam had missed his older brother.

"Sammy," Dean gestured expansively, "You missed an awesome night."

"Dude, you're drunk." Sam spoke amused.

"Only on love."

"You what now?" Sam nearly choked in shock. The 'L' word Dean normally dealt with ended in T not E, and Dean always said it was his patriotism shining through, that he was supporting the US in there too. Lust was definitely more Dean's MO than love.

"Girl of my dreams, Sammy." Dean actually sighed.

"Really. What's her name?"


"Twinkle?" Sam huffed, "The girl of your dreams is called Twinkle?"

"Met her tonight at Jimmy's. She works behind the bar. She dances, too. She's beautiful, Sam." If Sam hadn't known better, he would have sworn that his elder brother was actually doe-eyed.

"You are way passed 'drunk', dude and quickly moving into "Piss" drunk territory..."

Dean looked hurt. "I've only had three, well five, okay seven but ah Sammy, you should have seen her in her leopard print top and leather pants – pure class."

Sam didn't have to see her - he could picture her easily. And he would not have thought she was the girl of Dean's dreams, not unless she was an intelligent, strong-willed, beer-brewing contortionist, with controlling shares in M and M's and Winchester rifles on the side.

"I'm going to marry her, Sam..."


"And have children, lots of little Twinkles." Dean was smiling almost soppily. What the hell?

"Twinkies?" He couldn't resist.

"You're not taking me seriously!" Dean actually pouted.

Sam looked at him closely. "You're not drunk, are you?"

"I've been telling you that, dude, I'm in…"

"Love" Sam finished for him. "Yeah I get it, so when am I going to meet my future sister-in-law then?"

"Tomorrow. We'll go look at churches."

Dean sighed happily and stretched out on the bed next to Sam, slowing drifting. "She's wonderful, Sam, you'll love her."

"I'm sure I will, Dean." Sam couldn't help his smile. If Twinkle made his brother this happy, hell he'd worship the ground she walked on.


The next morning Dean woke with a pounding head, he still had a rather disconcerting feeling of well-being but it quickly evaporated in the cold light of day when he realised that he was alone in his motel room, no brother in sight.

"Dammit, Sam. Where are you?" He noticed a note on the small bedside table between the beds.

Gone for coffee- and a tux…Sam. What was his brother on?

A few minutes later Sam returned with two steaming hot cups of coffee.

"How are you feeling this morning, Romeo?"

Romeo? Sam was making no sense at all this morning. "There's an army of dwarves mining my brain."

"Knew you were drunk," Sam smirked.

"Merry, Sam, merry. You should try it sometime. Oh you did, didn't you? God, you were a maudlin drunk. Not to mention all hands…"

Sam ignored him. "So, do I meet your future bride-to-be today?"


"Twinkle – the love of your life?"

"Again – what?"

"The girl you are going to marry and raise lots of little twinkies with?"

"Are you stoned? What the hell are you going on about, Sam?"

"Do you remember anything about last night at all?" This is going to be so much fun…

"Went to Jimmy's, hooked up with that pole-dancing barmaid, you know it's amazing what she can do upside down on…"

"Dean, I don't want to hear about your trysts."

"Trysts? Jesus Sam, how old are you? Anyway, I'm only doing what a big brother should do, helping with your education."

"But…Twinkle?" Sam was curious despite himself.

"Yeah, well she has this star, right…"


"It glows in the dark too." Dean grinned as he reminisced.

"So, no marriage proposals then."

"She was most definitely not the marrying kind. Anyway, why spoil the fun?"

"You tell me."

"You probably dreamed it, Sam, that being as close to a girl as you would get…"

His brother sighed. "Anyway listen, we got a call from Ellen. Ash might have some Intel for us on a hunt and we're fairly close by…so?"

"You just want some home cooking, dude."

"We can't live on burgers and reheated food."

"Well we could, admittedly not for very long…So, is Jo back?" Dean asked casually.

"No." Sam tilted his head, curious to see where this was going, he had his suspicions about Jo's feelings for his brother, let's face it, she hadn't been exactly subtle.

"Yeah, we'll swing by. Pack our gear and we'll head off after I shower."


The brothers had been travelling for a little over an hour, Sam driving since according to Dean he needed the practice, nothing at all to do with the fact that his brother steadfastly refused to remove his sunglasses and was virtually horizontal in the passenger seat.

Dean had opened the window too and both men relaxed as the fresh, surprisingly warm breeze blew through the car.

"Ow," Dean jerked and glared out of the window.

"What's the matter now, Dean?" Sam had no doubt hit some minuscule pot hole in the road. I swear driving Dean gets more like the Princess and the Pea everyday. Except the Impala was the bed, particles of dust on the road was the pea, and Sam had a sneaking suspicion that he was frequently cast as the ugly step sister. No - Wrong story…

"Something just stung me!" Dean held one hand to the back of his right shoulder. He pulled his fingers back to look at them and could see a drop of blood on his fingertips. "Son of a bitch drew blood too."

"Looks like a prick."

"Thanks for the sympathy, bro."

"Not a lot of blood either." Sam's grin widened as his brother looked confused for a moment and then glared. "Who you calling a prick, Sasquatch?" It's the hangover; no way did my kid brother actually get one over on me.

"It's not exactly an insult to confirm I'm taller than you, Dean."

"With abominable hair, Sam,"

"Dude, that is so lame."

"And the huge feet."

"You know what they say about big feet, Dean?" Sam actually smirked.

"Yeah, immensely smelly."

"Real mature bro."

"You're right, mature stilton. Knew the smell reminded me of something." Dean swatted at his arm again…"Ow." He closed the window, "God, I hate nature sometimes."

Dean's eyes unfocused a moment, "Sam, did you pack my green shirt?"

"I swear you are worse than Dad. Yes, I packed everything."

Dean reached into the back seat of the Impala, and started rummaging through his bag. Aha, got it. He stripped off the shirt he was wearing and pulled the green shirt on.

"Do you think this brings out the colour of my eyes, Sam?"

Sam nearly crashed the car. "You're not my type, dude."

"Yeah, no kidding, but you're basically a girl Samantha, so tell me what you think from a girl's point of view. You know the ladies like my eyes."

"What is up with you today?"

"Nothing. I just like to look my best." Dean said defensively.

"Who for -Ash? It's the mullet, isn't it?"

"Funny, Sam. It doesn't hurt to make an effort once in a while. You know actually remove the hoodie before it becomes grafted to you?"

"We're just hitting the Roadhouse, Dean. They know what you look like."

"Exactly, can't let me gorgeous reputation down, now can I?"

That's more like the Dean I know. Sam thought.

"Wait, pull over, quick!"

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, concerned, pulling over to the side of the road.

Dean leaped out of the car and dashed to the grass verge and swiftly hunkered down.

"Dean?" Sam couldn't believe what he was seeing. "Dean? Are you picking flowers?"

"Can't go empty handed, dude. Where's your manners?"

"But flowers, Dean? Jo's not there." Sam commented nervously.

"Even if she was, these wouldn't be for her."

"For Ellen?" Sam was gob smacked, literally standing at the side of the door, jaw slack, looking remarkably like a stunned sheep.

"Ow." He slapped at the back of his arm. "Dammit Dean, move your blossom besotted backside, it's alive out here." And he stalked back to the car.

Sam climbed in and closed his eyes briefly as visions of Jess came back to him. The flowers had reminded him. Jess had never liked the shop bought flowers all brightly dressed for this time of year. Crass commercialism at its worst, she used to call it. She used to prefer her flowers hand picked for Valentine's Day. It was his second Valentine's without her and it still hurt. If I never fall in love again, it will be too soon. I don't think I could survive it a second time.

He opened his eyes as he felt the door of the Impala open and the smell of wildflowers wafted in, causing Sam's eyes to grow even brighter. He quickly turned his eyes to the road, started the engine, and pulled away.

The two brothers entered the Roadhouse; luckily for Sam it was virtually empty. Ellen was stocking up behind the bar and Ash was slouched at the other end fiddling with the laptop, with a beer in hand. Sam was surprised to see Bobby in the far corner, nursing what looked to not be his first whiskey.

"Hey, boys." Ellen greeted them warmly.

"Hi Ellen." Sam beamed at the older woman.

Dean smirked, funny how the older women always melted over Sam's puppy looks, almost fighting each other to take care of and mother him; Ellen, Missouri, they were like putty in his younger brother's hands. Speaking of which – he pulled out the hand picked bouquet from behind his back and handed them to Ellen.

"Dean, honey. You shouldn't have." The warmth in her voice belying her words.

"I wanted to."

"You picked them yourself?" She looked almost as shocked as Sam had. Dean Winchester, picking flowers? It beggared belief.

"Beautiful and untamed, just like you." Dean murmured un-self-consciously whilst his brother began to shake in an effort to keep his laughter contained.

Ellen almost ruined the moment by laughing out loud. Sam's face was a picture, his mouth a perfect 'o' of surprise, before dimpling, desperately trying to keep a straight face.

"Ouch." She suddenly muttered, looking across at Sam. Hmmm, a perfectly kissable mouth he has too, she thought. She covered her mouth in shock, what was she thinking? He's half my age! She looked away, confusion washing over her.

Sam looked between his two companions.

What the hell is going on here? Dean was going all calf-eyed at Ellen and was beginning to look a little hurt that she seemed preoccupied and was no longer giving him her full attention. Sam's eyes widened and he backed up a step. Ellen was looking almost predatorily at him, a small half-smile curving her lips as she leaned towards him.

"Anything I can get you, honey?"

"Um, no, uh, we'll just go see Ash." Sam almost frantically grabbed his brother's arm as he backed away." C'mon Dean…" He hissed before throwing a quick, terrified smile at the older woman and hurrying to the other end of the bar.

He gaped in horror when Dean called back, "hey Ellen, you don't mind if we take you up on your offer for somewhere to crash tonight, do you?"

"Sure sweetie, you boys are more than welcome, you know that. Very welcome, in fact."

Sam's face grew hot at the look Ellen cast their way. This is so not ending well… Dean simply grinned knowingly back at Ellen as they headed to Ash's room.


A figure hovering higher up, unseen in the dark shadows of the unlit bar, looked down and swore.

God this used to be easier. But not these days. Oh no, everything had to be so complicated. Everyone burying and denying their feelings so that half the time, it just had to guess. If the humans couldn't tell friendship and love apart, what hope did it have?

The elder brother was in obvious need of love in his life, the figure could feel the loneliness coming in waves from him. But he buried and hid his emotions so well that the being was starting to wish he hadn't started this. It had nearly overdosed the kid already since he kept shrugging off the effects. It would have to be careful.

The younger brother was even harder, he seemed strangely resistant, but then again, the broken-hearted normally were.

And that bar-woman. It thought it had the perfect set-up with Dean; they were both damaged and could perhaps heal the other – and really, who cared about the age difference these days?

It's the hair, it decided. The young hunter's hair and soulful expression was messing with its plans. Maybe I should cut it off, it thought. Its eyes suddenly fell on the older hunter in the far corner of the room, and it fingered its weapon thoughtfully for a moment, before grinning and swooping away.

Ellen had watched Ash leave the bar, Dean and Sam in tow. She sighed in disappointment, with the two brothers gone; the bar just seemed that much more dreary. There was a strange twanging noise and a pinprick sensation in her shoulder, and she hissed in surprise. She reached back and felt something small and sharp just below her shoulder blade. She went to try to remove it, when she noticed Bobby sitting alone in the corner.

Hmmm, she never could resist a challenge, and although Sam was unarguably edible and sweet, and Dean that bit darker and delicious for it – it was the experienced, unapproachable older hunter that suddenly intrigued her.

"More whiskey?" She tilted the bottle temptingly towards him. "This one's on the house."

"Why not?" He smiled gruffly, never one to turn down free whiskey.

Ellen smiled at him and Bobby suddenly felt suspicious. Was she flirting with him, yeah Bobby, and the next Demon you come across will try to sell you a bible. He swallowed as Ellen seemed to lean almost seductively across the bar to pour the drink and he awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Do you mind if I join you for one?" Ellen asked, "It's dead in here anyway." She pointedly ignored a hunter who was desperately trying to get her attention and eventually just leaned over the bar and helped himself, leaving the cash on the bar top. She took Bobby's lack of response as assent, and snagged a glass from the bar before pouring the last of the bottle into her glass.

"Grab another bottle before you get comfortable, Ellie."

"Sure, hon." That settled it, not only was Ellen NEVER that accommodating, she'd also never allowed anyone but Bill to call her Ellie.

Whilst Ellen was on her feet, fetching another bottle, he pulled out his hip flask and poured a little holy water into the whiskey in her glass – better safe than sorry.

Ellen perched herself next to him and knocked back her drink. Bobby almost held his breath as he watched her intently – nothing happened.

She leaned closer to the elder hunter. "You know Bobby; you spend far too much time on your own in that junkyard of yours. You must get lonely." She placed a soft hand on his arm and squeezed gently.

Bobby jumped up quickly, knocking his bar stool over in his haste to put appropriate distance between himself and the bar tender.

"I need to speak to Ash, he's uh, sorting something out for me with the IRS – you know what they're like. I mean with demons, you know where you stand, huh. At least they let you know in advance they want your soul." He was babbling, and that was not like him at all. "I'll catch up with you later." The elder hunter hurried away. Shit, he wished he hadn't had way too much to drink, or else he'd be hightailing it back to the yard right now

"Sure sweetie. Your cot's out back if you want it." She turned away casually and Bobby mentally kicked himself. He was being paranoid. Still Ash had promised to give him a hand with his taxes.

He didn't hear the quiet sniggers from the rafters above his head as he left.


Two hours later, Bobby was ready to admit he was hiding. Ellen had caught up with him a short while earlier and had cornered him for a good half hour. He knew now, he was no longer paranoid. Something was going on, and he was terrified he knew what it was. Ellen was trying to de-bachelorise him.

There was a knock at the door. Surely she hadn't followed him to his room? He sighed tiredly; maybe he should have attempted the drive after all. So what if he ended up in a ditch, he'd be a damn sight more comfortable than he was at the moment.

He opened the door. Sure enough, Ellen was leaning against the door frame in a rather revealing dress. A rather revealing white dress.

"What the hell are you wearing, Ellen." He barked.

"It's a dress, sugar. Thought you might like it." She purred, moving forward.

"Are you out of your mind? You as much as anyone should know better than to wear a white dress, especially with the Winchesters' around. Are you suicidal? It's like wearing a supernatural calling card! Take it off!"

"If you insist." She slipped one strap over her shoulder. Bobby made a choking sound and flushed scarlet as she continued to undress in the middle of the room. With a desperate gurgle, the elder hunter, experienced veteran of many a demon hunt, could take no more and he fled.

He dashed to the room the two Winchesters were currently occupying and banged on the door.

"Dean! Sam!" He shouted, nearly in a blind panic. Sam opened the door to see their old friend virtually having an apoplectic fit in their doorway.

"Bobby? You okay?"

"No, its Ellen, she's…" Bobby stopped, gasping for breath, still too stunned to make any real sense.

"What's happened? Is she hurt? Where is she?" Dean demanded.

"My room." Sam made to dash past the older man, but Bobby grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "No, don't." His face flushed an even deeper shade of red.

What's wrong?" Sam asked gently.

"She's naked!"

"Bobby, you sly old dog!" Dean was impressed. Who would have thought the old man still had it in him.

"Shut it, Winchester."

"What's wrong, Bobby. Need some pointers?"

The older hunter ignored him. "Demons - demons I can handle – but that woman, that woman scares me."

"C'mon. Its only Ellen. She's not scary." Dean commented, almost gleefully. Sam looked at him pointedly. "Ok, maybe she is."

"She was talking about curtains, Dean"

"Not exactly a horrifying subject choice, Bobby."

"Curtains and settling my age?"

"Whoa – Ellen is trying to tie you down? And not just in the fun way?"

"And did I mention she's now naked in my room? That might happen fairly often to a young buck like yourself, boy, but not to me. There's something strange going on."

"Yeah, you're in the wrong room for a start, Bobby."

There was a twang, and Sam could have sworn he heard an 'ahh' noise from above his head, and Bobby, who had briefly flinched, suddenly turned to the door. "Mebbe you boys are right, shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, especially at my age."

"Forget I said anything." Bobby began to back out of the door, "I'll catch up with you boys later."

"Now that's an image I could do without." Dean muttered as the older hunter disappeared out of sight.

"What's the matter, Deanie, you jealous?"

"Of Bobby?" Dean asked cynically.

"Well, you were hitting on Ellen earlier." Sam grinned.

"I was just being polite, she's not my type."

"She's a woman and breathing, dude."


"Let's just say that's your normal qualifying criteria."

"Why limit yourself, I've always said you were too picky."

"No, I just have high standards." Sam smiled.

"You'd have to, being so freakishly tall. What did you do, give Sarah a box?"

Again, there was a twang and an "ahh" noise that sounded suspiciously like an angelic choir. "Did you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Well that answered that question. "Um, a twang followed by an angelic chorus?" Sam grinned brightly – man, I'm screwed. Dean will never let me live this down.

"Have you banged your head recently, dude. I mean, not that it would actually damage anything, given that your hair is at a stage it would stop a meteor strike, but maybe rattled a few of those geek boy brain cells?"

"I'm serious, Dean. I heard an angelic choir going 'aaah'."

"You're not going all religious on me are you?"

"Shut up, Dean. You have to admit there's something strange going on here? Ellen, Bobby, you…"

"What do you mean me?"

"Wanting to marry Twinkle, picking flowers, flirting with Ellen? Not exactly normal behaviour for you, is it?"

There was another twang, "Ouch! I am getting sick and tired of whatever is biting me in this place." Dean muttered, he put his hand to the small of his back and felt something sharp. "What the?" he tugged and pulled out what looked to be a tiny arrow. "Sam, look at this."

He held it out for his brother to see. "What on earth would be shooting tiny arrows at people?" Sam queried, "Tiny arrows with heart shaped tips?"

"Dude, its pink!"

"Probably the prettiest arrow anyone's ever been shot with." Sam muttered.

Bugger…they had found one. It was only a matter of time before they figured out what was happening.

"Did you hear that?"

Twang, twang, twang….aaaaahhhh

"Pack it in." Dean yelped, jumping and clutching at his backside.

"What's wrong?"

"I think it shot me in the ass." Sam sniggered.

"I can't see, get them out!" Dean demanded as he felt the world starting to drift into a dreamy haze.

"Look, you're my brother, and I'd die for you, but I am not pulling heart-tipped arrows out of your ass! I'll go ask Ellen..." Sam grinned at Dean's horrified expression.

"No, you don't, Sam. Besides she's probably, uh 'occupied' at the moment."

Sam had opened the door when he heard a buzzing and saw a small, cherub-like figure flash towards him, firing his bow furiously. Twang, twang, twang, twang….aaaaaahhhhh

Oh no…

Too late Sam felt the tiny arrows pierce his neck and arm, and he too felt a warm and contented feeling wash over him and he stopped, relaxed.

"Hmm, Dean?"

"Yeah, Sammy." Dean's expression could only be described as blissful. Or stoned.

"Do you think there are any girls in the bar tonight?"

"Gotta be – its Valentine's Day after all."

"Think we should check them out, I mean check the bar out, make sure it's safe for them?" Sam grinned mischievously.

"We'd be doing our civic duty." Dean agreed righteously, before grinning with an expression that was anything but virtuous.

The brothers hesitated a moment, there was something they were forgetting. They looked at each other and shrugged simultaneously – couldn't have been that important, and headed for the bar.

Nobody quite knew who had started the fight. The night had been going well; Sam had been singing Bon Jovi songs on the Karaoke while Dean had been strutting his stuff on the dance floor. The younger brother had gotten a standing ovation for his rendition of 'One Wild Night' and it had only started to go sour when he had serenaded one of the regulars with 'Always'.

It also hadn't been helped by the small floating figure which had by this point had gotten into Ellen's whiskey and was drunkenly careening around the room, firing randomly at anyone in sight.

No-one had seen Ellen or Bobby in hours.

"Maybe it would have been a better idea to serenade a woman whose husband wasn't standing right next to her?" Dean suggested as he watched his brother try to stem the blood from his nose.

"It wasn't my fault - I didn't know she was married."

"She was wearing a ring, Sam."

Sam mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"I said I couldn't see her hand, never mind her ring. And anyway, I wasn't the one who hit him."

"Well, I thought he had hit you, ok? You were on your knees at the time!"

"Hello, serenading, remember?"

They surveyed the destruction in front of them. Bodies lay all over the bar in varying states...

"Ellen's gonna be pissed." Dean said nervously.

A figure buzzed past them before crashing into a wall. "Ow." A small voice muttered.

"That's it." Dean growled before he grinned, and lunging forward he grasped the shotgun Ellen kept under the bar and stormed out into the open.

"Dean!" Sam's eyes fairly bugged out of his head, then desperately sought a safe spot to focus his gaze, looking anywhere but the direction of his brother.

"What?!" Dean almost snarled - his eyes on the small being that squeaked and fled firing a barrage of arrows to cover its retreat.

Sam's mouth split into a self conscious grin as rose-red stained his cheeks and he waved vaguely towards his older brother. His eyes remaining intently fixed on the ceiling in an almost comical fashion.

Dean shook his head and looked down. His head snapped back up and the stock of the shotgun angled conspicuously downward, I was wondering why it was so damned cold… "Shit!" he scuttled behind the bar where his eyes fell on his brother.

"Well then... this isn't awkward at all..." he smirked scratching his chin and searching the ceiling along side Sam.

"Nah not at all..." Sam shook his head with a matching smirk while they hastily sought out their clothes among the mess on the other side, whilst resolutely avoiding each others gaze.

"I used to change your diapers you know..."

"Yeah, over twenty years ago…"Sam retorted, "And what's your point?" he asked focusing strictly on Dean's eyes.

Before Dean could answer, both brothers were forced to duck behind the bar as the diminutive figure darted past, giggling and firing arrows madly. They could hear the tiny whistles as the arrows ricocheted of bottles, and two hit the chest of a biker who had been struggling to rise. He fell back with a sigh of contentment.

"It's a good thing he's got such crap aim." Sam pointed to a large biker who'd been on the verge of rising when the arrows had started to fly again, and started to snigger.

"He did sink two bottles of Ellen's best single malts. Given his size he must be more alcohol than blood by now." Dean commented wryly.

The figure shot across the room once more, before disappearing through the door leading to the kitchen.

"Did he just say wheeeee?" Sam asked incredulously. How the hell do you take a supernatural creature seriously if it flies around going 'wheee'?

"Uh-huh." Dean rose, a determined expression on his face. He winced when he remembered a particularly spectacular John Travolta move he had pulled on the dance floor. In front of what looked to be half the hunting community no less. Shit.

"I'm gonna hunt that fat, little bastard down and shoot him." He growled.

"You can't shoot Cupid, Dean." It was obvious now, surreal, but obvious.

Dean nodded in agreement to Sam's conclusion but had to add." Why not, the little shit keeps shooting us!"

"He's only trying to make us happy."

"How exactly is making complete asses of ourselves making us happy?"

"Completely NAKED asses..." he added then groaned, "He…oh god I didn't…" A memory surfaced for the younger hunter. "Oh no, tell me I did not recite poetry to that gorgeous red-head?"

"Ash looked impressed." Sam's expression of mortification grew, "Not so much when you knocked his laptop on the floor when she dragged you over the bar. Just what did the two of you get up to back here anyway?"


"You were out of sight for quite a while."


"Well, except for when your jeans came sailing across the bar. Then, I think most people got quite an eyeful. Especially when her bra followed."

"At least I didn't strip in the middle of the dance floor."

"I still can't see my t-shirt." Dean muttered looking around the area he'd been dancing in.

"I think Ash took it. Considering he spends half of his time naked, god knows what for."

"You're kidding!"

"'Fraid not."

"He better not have taken my boxers as well, or I'll kick his ass."

"No, I'm pretty sure they were taken by the biker over there," Sam motioned in the direction of a half a dozen of out-cold patrons.



"The tall, dark haired, leather-clad chick with the legs up to here?" Dean's hand was at neck height, and he had brightened noticeably.

"No, the blonde one over there. The one with the tattoos. And the beard." Sam grinned as his brother's face paled.

"Oh man, really? I am so not coming back here." They continued to peer around the bar in search of their misplaced and possibly stolen clothing.

Having spotted the most important, not to mention face-saving, articles of clothing, the two brothers' met each others gaze, nodded and taking a deep breath dashed out from behind the bar to retrieve what they wanted. They rapidly slid into whatever they could find before approaching the kitchen slowly. They could hear bangs and clatters coming from behind the door. Gingerly Dean pushed it open as a pan came soaring past. It was decorated with heart shapes in pink icing.

The noise seemed to die down inside, only to be replaced by a sad sniffling. Sam and Dean slowly entered. Cupid sat on the edge of the bench, icing bag in hand, sadly decorating the work top. He raised large, miserable eyes and fat tears rolled down his chubby face.

"I hate this time of year." He muttered in a surprisingly deep voice.

The brothers looked at each other confused. "Are you really Cupid?" Sam asked.

"Is your brother an idiot or something?" The cherub muttered in disgust. Dean grinned.

"He has his moments." Sam glared at him.

"Who the fuck do you think I am, the Easter Bunny?"

"But you're mythical!"

"That doesn't mean I'm not real."

"Um. Yes, it does."

The pint-sized figure sighed in exasperation. "You've heard of thought forms?"

"Unfortunately." They both remembered Mordechi. And the fact that they couldn't actually get rid of him.

"Same thing. Every bloody year, millions of humans all dwell on romance, and love, and oh that sweet little tale of Cupid and his arrows. Does anyone ever think how cold around the nether regions a toga actually is? Or how stupid you feel looking like a fat cherub with wings and a Robin Hood complex?"

The two brothers looked uncomfortably at each other, as the cherub built up to a full blown tantrum.

"Why does everything have to be pink and heart shaped? And its not even heart shaped! I have half a mind sometimes to start leaving actual hearts – that would soon put a dampener on things. And how the hell am I meant to make people fall in love when the vast majority of the time they don't even know what they want? And then the rest of the time, they try to sabotage it! It's not easy being the one to help folk fall in love, and then they throw it back in your face and curse you for it."

Cupid snorted. "You give them one of the best experiences of their lives, and when it goes wrong, usually because they do something stupid, oh it's all my fault too. I'm so unappreciated. And did I mention the pay? Huh, you slave away your entire existence and what do you get? Sweet bugger all! What, am I supposed to just do it for the job satisfaction?" The diminutive figure was in full blown self pity mode. "Do you know what its like to help others fall in love and never experience it yourself?" He faltered and looked at the brothers again, as if seeing them for the first time.

"And now you are going to shoot me. Fantastic. Perfect end for a thank-less existence."

"Can't you quit?" Sam asked, feeling heartily sorry for the miserable figure in front of him.

"You are such a girl." Dean mouthed. He would never admit it but he too empathised with the obviously depressed cherub.

"And give up all of this?" Cupid asked wryly. "Why would I want to do that? Anyway, can't leave romance down to you humans, you don't know your arse from your elbow."

"What about a holiday?" Sam murmured - he had picked up Cupid's discarded bow and quiver of arrows and looked at the thought-form thoughtfully.

"What are you doing? Put that down, you have no idea how dangerous those things can get!"

"Have you seen the bar? Dean asked in disbelief.

Sam grinned and drew back the bow with his forefinger.

"You have to have some fun, Cupid, or else what are you living for?" And fired. Aaaaahhaa…

Wow, you really can hear an angelic chorus…Dean thought in amusement.

Despite the awkwardness of using such a tiny weapon, the young hunters aim was true and hit Cupid on the arm. "Ow. Never realised it hurt." It began to relax, "I wonder what Tahiti is like?"

"Lots of bikini clad women." Dean waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

The cherub suddenly grinned wickedly, and gliding unsteadily forward, it grabbed the bow and arrows from Sam's grip. "Might have a little fun after all. I must be due some holidays by now!" It smirked. "Several years' worth in fact." He bobbed his head at the brother. "Thank you." And he swooped away.

The two brothers watched him leave and smiled at each other, "So, do you think we should hang around, give Ellen a hand cleaning this up?" Sam asked with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

"Do you really think we should be around when she sees this?" Dean asked looking out the window into the main bar. Sam's face joined his at the window and he winced.

"Uh, no."

"Besides, didn't Ash say something about a haunting?" he asked guiding his little brother toward the room in the back where the rest of their belongings were.

"Should be a simple salt and burn." Sam said hopefully.

"Grave digging does nothing for your hands and nails, dude." Dean commented mournfully.

Sam just looked at his brother before pulling something out of his bag and handing it to him.

"Hand cream, Sammy? You keep hand cream in your bag? You know you could go blind if you're not careful?"

"Funny, Dean. Actually I found it in your gear when I was packing. Along with moisturiser and hair products. Seriously dude, Jess had fewer products than you do."







"Sam and Dean Winchester! Get you asses in here this minute!"

The two brothers looked at each other before heading for the window. "Oldest goes first." Dean shoved Sam back.

"I thought you were never going to let anything bad happen to me."

"Can't protect you if MY ASS isn't around right? There's a limit to brotherly loyalty, dude. Hey!" Sam had grabbed Dean's waist before tickling him causing him to lose his grip. Long legs quickly thrust his body through the window. There was an oof as he hit the other side.

"That's my boy." Dean grinned as he chucked their bags through then launched himself bodily out of the window where he landed heavily on top of his brother.

"Gee, thanks for breaking my fall, bro. That was thoughtful."

His flattened younger brother lifted one hand and gave a gesture that most definitely was not a thumbs up.

"Sammy, I'm shocked at you. I don't know where you learned that kind of language."

Sam opened his mouth to reply when they heard another shout from within. Laughing the two brothers grabbed their bags and sprinted for the Impala.


The End….


So, hoped you enjoyed reading this as much as I did writing it. It was just a bit of fun, but please don't let that stop you R and R'ing and letting me know what you think!

Thanks for reading!