Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me.

Bobby heard the Impala drive up. He glanced outside seeing the evening rays shining off the black paint job. Sam and Dean hadn't called first which meant they were either beat to hell or possessed. He diluted two sodas with holy water – those two idgits were drinking way too much beer – and wheeled his chair towards the front door.

He gripped his silver knife, straightened his cap, and turned the handle – tensing further when he found two women standing on the other side. One of 'em was little and cute with big, green eyes and freckles. The other one was tall. Really tall. And a looker, too. Wavy brown hair and a curvy figure that wasn't quite hidden by her layers of clothes. Bobby tightened his grip on the weapon. He sure as hell didn't trust pretty young things that showed up on his doorstep – especially when they were driving his boys' car.

"Can I help you?" He gruffed out, watching his breath fog in the cold February air.

"I sure as hell hope so." The shorter one bit out in a raspy voice. "Cause I'm going to kill the freakin' Amazon next to me if you can't."

"Dean…" The taller one warned, pulling her jacket tighter around her body. "Calm down, man."

"Calm down?" The little one's eyes opened wide. She shivered, but Bobby couldn't tell if she was cold or livid, and clenched her fist like she was going to hit something. "I woke up today…" She breathed in and out rapidly, a look of pure panic painting her pretty face. "And Mister Happy and the band were gone!" She said, glancing down at her crotch. "Gone." She repeated solemnly and caught Bobby's eyes. She turned back to the other one. "So I sure as hell am not calming down, Sam."

Bobby took a closer look at them. He shook his head, peering at one than the other. "Dean?" He said, but he already knew he was right. What had the two numbskulls done this time? Bobby took a deep breath. "Boys?" They nodded. Not really women then. "What the hell?"

"Yeah." Dean fidgeted. "Well. Yesterday we were invisible…which is nowhere near as fun as it sounds." Dean pointed down again. "But, at least, all the junk was where the junk should be." He paused. "Even if I couldn't see it."

"So…" Sam held up a delicate looking wrist. "Um…" He said, jingling a heavy pewter bracelet. "We… uh…think these are cursed, Bobby." Dean rolled his pretty eyes and held up his small wrist, too. He was wearing an identical bracelet.

"Ya think? For crying out loud." Bobby shook his head and swore. He wheeled backwards, shuffling them inside into the warmth of the house. He led them to the oak table in the living room and handed them the sodas. "Drink."

Sam drank it right away. Dean frowned at it.

"I could use something a little stronger here, Bobby." He said, but he took a sip before clanking it down on the table. "Not possessed. Now how 'bout that beer."

Bobby ignored him. "Tell me what happened."

Sam's lips twitched down. "Not much to tell, Bobby. We got these bracelets stuck on our wrists. Then yesterday we woke up…um…invisible. And today we woke up visible again, but…um…" Sam pushed his hair out of his delicate face. "Well…like this. And we decided we needed help."

"How'd you get the bracelets stuck on your wrist to begin with?" Bobby asked Dean. Dean didn't answer. His eyes were cast down towards his shirt.

"Dude." Sam slapped the table. "Stop staring at your breasts and pay attention."

"I am paying attention." Dean snapped up and glared at Sam. "We were working a job in the attic of this old house. And Samantha here finds a box full of jewelry and starts trying stuff on…"

"I was investigating the contents. I was not 'trying stuff on', Dean."

"Right. I saw you put on that tiara." Dean said accusingly. He ignored Sam's indignation and continued. "So Einstein here slips on the stupid bracelet..." He held his dainty hands up in annoyance. "And, boom, I look down and its twin is shackled to my wrist. They won't come off and if we move more than four feet apart, we're snapped back together."

Bobby leaned his elbows on the table and let the information simmer. "What were you investigating?"

"The house has a history of accidents. Several people bled to death after inexplicably losing limbs." Sam said, pushing his hair behind his ears. "We thought there might be an orge on the property."

Bobby laughed. "An orge?" He laughed more. Damn. Sometimes Sam was hilarious.

"There's a lot of lore on orges." Sam crossed his arms and his face fell into a sweet pout.

Bobby cleared his throat. "Okay, let's get one thing straight. There ain't no such thing as ogres." Bobby leaned back in his chair. "What did you find in the house?"

Dean jingled his bracelet again. "Cursed bracelets."

"Well, you both still got arms." Bobby turned to Sam. "Anything else?"

"No." Sam sighed; a long, loud sigh. "The place was clean, Bobby."

"You boys certain?"

"Look, Bobby. We went back and spent all day yesterday, while we were invisible, searching every inch of that damn house. There's nothing there. And our arms are still connected to our bodies."

"For now." Bobby considered it. "Gotta be related to the deaths, though. I'll make some calls. See what I can find out."

"Thanks." Dean stood up, shifting back and forth on his feet. His cute face twisted back to barely contained panic. "I need to know if Little Dean will be back in the morning or what? Just...the boobs are awesome and all, but I gotta have the boys back."

Sam groaned. "He's been complaining nonstop since this morning." He turned to glower at his brother. "You know, Little Sam is gone, too. I'm not carrying on like a crazy person."

"Yeah. Well." Dean smirked. "Little Sam isn't as much to miss."

"Really. You want to compare? Fine, when we're back to normal…"

"Boys!" Bobby pulled off his cap. It always came down to a pissing match with these two. "Enough. We need to figure this out, and figure it out soon. Curses aren't things to mess around with. But if its different today than yesterday. Odds are it will be different tomorrow."

"Hallelujah." Dean relaxed and settled back in his chair.

"Don't get too excited. Curses tend to get worse before they get better." Bobby wheeled away from the table. "Make a list of everyone you've come in contact with in the last week. And underline names of anyone who you saw at that damn house."

They exchanged a glance. Sam spoke up.

"We already did that in the car, Bobby. I just don't think any of these people are involved." Sam held out a crumpled piece of paper. He hesitated. "Uh…what should we do for now?"

"Stay put."

"Nah. I gotta a better idea." Dean stood up, easing a sly grin over his full lips. He planted his palms on the table. "I'm gonna go play some pool." He chuckled. "With this packaging, it'll be like taking candy from a bunch of clueless, overgrown babies. Might as well flaunt it while I got it."

Oh. For heavens sake. Bobby pounded his fist down. "Look, boy, tonight, you're staying in."

"Don't worry." Sam said. "I'll go with him. We are getting low on cash."

Bobby gave Sam a hard look. Really. Sam should know better. "Did this curse make you two stupid when it made you into women!" Bobby wheeled back over, staring them down. "You two aren't going to hustle pool in your current state."

"Our current state?" Dean scrunched up his nose. "That's pretty sexist, Bobby." He waggled his eyebrows. "I bet I can hustle pool real good in my current state." He turned towards his brother. "What do you think, Sam?"

Sam stood up. "We'll be careful. I'll have his back."

"You sit your asses back down. You need cash?" He rolled over to his desk and opened the top drawer. "Here." He said, tossing them a wad of bills. "Take it."

"Bobby…" Sam picked up the money, lips pursing in confusion. "You've always, always been there for us, but you've never in your life given us cash."

Dean peered at him. "It's cause were chicks, isn't it? Dude…" He turned to Sam with a wide grin. "We're gonna make so much moola at the bar."

"I said no, boys. You want my help you're going to do what I say." Bobby said. Dean opened his mouth to speak. Bobby held up his hand to keep the boy from saying whatever fool thing he was going to say next. Bobby continued. "And it ain't because you're women. I know plenty of capable female hunters. Hell, Ellen and Jo ran a bar. It's because you're cursed." He rolled towards the back room to make some calls.

Sam looked down, contemplating the money, again. "Chauvinist." Bobby heard him mumble from the other room.

Bobby wiped his brow and swore. Maybe he was feeling a bit overprotective. But those girls were his boys and he didn't want them being ogled by drunken fools all night. Besides, they didn't know a damn thing about being women. He picked up the phone. They could just sit their asses down until they learned to behave like ladies or were back to normal.