Warning!! This is pure crack. I don't even now how to explain the premise of this story. It starts in the real world and ends in the SPN one - kind of.

Title: A Muse Explains It All
Fandom: If you look sideways it's a SV & SPN crossover
Characters: The Writer, The Muse, Sam and Dean Winchester – eventually. A brief glimpse of Lana. (I swear it's minimal)

Summary: A muse explains to a fan fiction writer why some stories should not be written

A/N: This was written for acresofhope. She made me a fantastic Sam and Katie Icon and I promised to write her body swapping Girl!Dean with a side of Lana. I really did want to write that story but my Muse got in the way. I hope she enjoys this instead.

A Muse Explains It All

Somewhere in the Midwest

The house was quiet. The writer, let's call her Cathy so as to protect her identity, sat staring at the blank computer screen.

The story she was attempting to write was promised as a gift; part of the barter system that existed on Live Journal. But as can be the case with wide open prompts, the intended recipient of this particular story had stumped our intrepid writer.

The minutes ticked by and still no words had made it from her brain onto the screen. Sighing Cathy pushed back from the desk and traipsed into the kitchen to grab a Diet Coke from the fridge, hoping the caffeine would jump start her muse. She returned to the small room that served as office and guest room, plopped back into the blue high backed swivel chair, popped the top on her soda and took a swig as she stared at the computer.

Setting the cola to her left, she decided to just start typing. She had yet to figure out how to get her heroes together with the mystical artifact necessary to drive the requested plot. (Hell, she hadn't even figured out what would act as the mystical artifact). She figured she could at least get them to Kansas and hope inspiration hit.

Cathy wanted to curse her muse. But she figured that was not a good way to maintain a solid relationship with her mythical figure of inspiration. So, she just started typing. After about ten minutes, she paused to sip her soda and reread what she'd written.

"It's shit you know," came a lilting voice from behind her.

Cathy nearly spewed the mouthful of cola all over her computer (and wouldn't that have sucked big time?). She struggled to swallow the fizzy drink and swiveled in her chair to face the owner of the voice.

The brunette woman was wearing a full length toga with sandals and had stretched herself out on the futon sofa that also served as a guest bed.

"Who the hell are you and how the hell did you get in here?" Cathy demanded. She reached for the phone next to the computer. "I'm calling the police."

The woman swung her feet off the futon to come into a sitting position. "You don't want to do that. You know who I am; just think about it."

Cathy paused, her hand hovering over the phone. "Muse. You're my muse."

She smiled. "Right in one. Very good."

"Holy crap!" Cathy exclaimed as she tried to absorb the idea that the woman in front of her was the personification of all her creative ideas. Then she got angry. "Where the hell have you been? I haven't written anything decent in weeks." (While not exactly true, it had been a while since she'd actually finished anything.)

"Hey, no need to get testy. I have a pretty full client list these days," she said indignantly.

"So you've been off helping others?"

"Absolutely, heck you even know a lot of those authors. I'm strictly a fan fiction muse. Love that stuff; especially the crossovers. That's a hot bed for great adventure and romance. I've been very inspiring lately if I do say so myself."

"Ego, much." Cathy snorted.

The muse's eyes narrowed. "I don't get nearly enough credit and you know it."

Cathy blanched at the dark look. "Sorry. You are so right. You're doing great work. I mean it."

The Muse smiled. "That's better."

"Really, I'm very grateful for the assistance." Cathy hesitated not wanting to upset up her. "Just wondering. Does your appearance here mean that you've decided to help me out? I'm really struggling."

"About that story you're attempting. I mean: gender swap. Really?" She waved a hand dismissively at the computer. "You don't want to do that."

"Oh, but there's a lot of gender swap stories out there. Aren't they from your inspiration, too?"

Muse made a face. "No and none of the slash or male pregnancy or incest stuff either. Definitely not the incest," she insisted. "I don't inspire that kind of story, sorry."

"But then where does it come from?"

"My brother Muse. He loves that twisted stuff."

Cathy thought about this. "So can I meet him? Maybe he can help me get this written. I know it's a little different from my usual stories but I promised."

The Muse looked hurt. "Are you saying you want to trade me in? I thought you said I'd been good to you?"

"Of course, you've been great. Really, no complaints. I adore you but this story…" Cathy trailed off and pointed to the half empty computer screen.

"Wouldn't you rather write a nice romantic Dean meets Chloe story? Those two are great together. I just inspired one author to marry them off. She's writing some great stuff."

"Maybe next time. But I really need to figure out how to turn Dean into a girl or maybe body swap him with Lana. Can't you help with that?"

"Lana? Really?" The muse crinkled her nose. "Not a fan. Thank goodness I don't handle many authors who write that character."

"But you're my muse. Isn't it you job to inspire creative writing of all kinds?"

"I do! I'm working with one author on this epic girl-power adventure story, Chloe and Jo, no romance at all. Wouldn't you like to write something like that? I've been trying to get more people to write Jo. She's such a misunderstood character." The Muse offered hopefully.

"Well, that does sound great and I've been thinking about writing a Jo centric story." Cathy admitted and eyed her Muse suspiciously. "That's you isn't it? You're trying to distract me."

"Is it working?" She asked innocently. "Come on; Jo and Richie. I know you want to write that." She pushed.

"Hey! Stop that." Cathy said and then paused as the ideas flooded in. "Crap that's a great idea." Cathy turned away to grab her notebook and began to jot down her thoughts. Her pen paused as she realized she'd again been distracted from her main objective.

The Muse was watching her expectantly. "What? Don't stop now you were on a roll. This is much more your style, trust me".

Cathy slammed the notebook closed and turned back to face the Muse. "I mean it. I've got to get this gender, body swap thing written. Now are you going to help or not?"

"No, I won't!" She shouted. "You want to write that than I'll call my brother."

"Great. Can he come by this evening?"

The muse stood and crossed her arms. "Fine, I don't have to stay where I'm not wanted." She began to wave her arms about as if she were going to disappear.

"Wait!" Cathy cried. If you go, will you come back when this story is done and help finish the Richie/Jo one?"

The Muse paused. "I don't see why I should. You obviously want to take your writing in a different direction. I'll transfer you to my brother permanently." Her features twisted in a pout as the hurt radiated from her expression.

"Please don't leave. I don't want to write slash. Hell, I don't even read slash. Can't I just borrow your brother for one story?" Cathy pleaded.

The Muse huffed and wandered around the room examining the books on the shelves that lined the walls. She ignored Cathy.

Cathy stood and approached the Muse. "Okay. Okay. You're right. I shouldn't even attempt it. I'll figure something out; make a huge mea culpa. Please don't go. I was wrong."

The Muse turned to face her. "I don't know. You don't seem to appreciate all the inspiration I've given you."

"That's not true at all. I'm very grateful."

"I just don't know how we can work together if there's no trust." She said airily

"Wait maybe you could help me write the story in a different way. You are incredibly talented. I'm sure you can figure out a way to do it without a body swap or hints of Wincest." Cathy suggested trying to appeal to the huge ego of her Muse. (Someone had once told her that their muse liked cheese but she had none to offer and hoped flattery would work.) "Really I'd prefer it that way myself."

The muse paused and considered this.

"Please." Cathy begged

"I've got it" she said "But before I share I have to know you won't try writing this crazy stuff again."

"I promise no slash or gender confusion. Off my list forever." Cathy promised. She placed a hand to her heart and raised the other as if she were in court. "I swear."

The Muse smiled. "All right then. I'm glad we've come to this understanding." She snapped her fingers and disappeared.

"But you didn't tell me what your idea was!" Cathy shouted at the space where the Muse had stood moments ago. "I said I was sorry." She stamped her foot and waited but there was no answer. "Damn, that did not go well."

Dejected, she returned to her desk to sit and stare at the computer monitor. She blinked and realized that inspiration had been granted. Smiling she looked up at the ceiling. "Thank you." She said aloud and began to type.

For those in the audience still hanging on – here is the story our intrepid writer was inspired to share. (That would be me but I'm sure you figured that out)

Sam's DreamA drabble: 100 words exactly

Sam screamed as he bolted upright in bed.

Dean looked up from his pillow. "You ok Sammy?"

"Yeah. Just a creepy dream."

"Clowns or midgets?"


"Then why you screaming like a girl at 5am?"

"You don't want to know."

Dean laughed. "Oh now, I really want to know."

Sam sighed, "You body swapped with this pregnant brunette girl. I couldn't change you back. And her boyfriend was kissing you." Sam grimaced.

All the color had drained from Dean's face.

"It seemed very real. There was this town..."

Dean interrupted. "Where'd it happen?"

"Smallville, Kansas."

"Dude, let's never go there."