Summery: Dean finds himself questioning the insanity that is women after taking care of a couple of hunts straight out of a paranormal romance novel.

Warning: Spoilers and character bashing. This is an AU fic that takes place during Supernatural Season Five sometime after The Real Ghostbusters. For all fans of Twilight, The Vampire Diaries, and True Blood – this is NOT a story for you. Facts pertaining to the aforementioned series have been purposely skewed for the sake of this story – so if you flame me for any reason, be prepared for an acid covered tongue-lashing in retaliation!

Note: Please be forewarned that my style is a bit rusty due to lack of use. Seeing as I have been suffering writer's block for the past two years now, I hope you all understand where I'm coming from when I ask that you take it easy on me:) I am also grateful for my muse and this allusive plot bunny that I was able to ensnare in order to bring you this fic. Thanks for reading. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any and all references made to Supernatural, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Twilight, The Vampire Diaries, and The Lost Boys is just the work of a very board little girl playing in her cyber-sandbox.

Special Thanks: Many thanks to cheshirecat101 who was kind enough to offer her savvy beta-reading skills:) This story was edited by aforementioned awesomeness on 07/13/10

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Death to all Vampires!

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"I just don't understand it…"

It was 10:52 pm, and Dean had been busy burning a hole in the motel carpet with his eyes for the past twenty minutes.

Looking up from the pile of papers strewn before him, Sam glanced over at his agitated brother and grimaced upon seeing Dean's current expression – a mask of equal parts frustration and indignation. The younger man sighed softly, gathering the loose papers before pushing away from the table and giving Dean his undivided attention.

"Understand what, Dean?" he asked, placatory, silently hoping that it would bring an end to the bellyaching.

"Chicks!" Dean suddenly snapped, wringing his hands. Sam raised a brow in surprise. "What I don't freakin' understand are the chicks these days!"

Honestly, of all the things Dean could have said, that certainly wasn't what Sam was expecting to hear.

"What?" There was a hint of laughter in his voice. "When have you ever understood women?"

"Oh shut up bitch! You know what I meant," his brother huffed, running a hand through his short blond hair. "But honestly dude, what could be so frigging hot about boffing a corpse? Don't they get that its necrophilia? Not to mention pedophilia?"

Sam struggled harder not to laugh. While everything that Dean was saying was true, it was more then a little uncharacteristic for something like this to have bent his brother's nose out of shape.

During last few months, they had taken on several hunts that involved vampires. It should have been simple considering they had faced vampires before. What they hadn't expected was encountering different breeds of vampire. When you actually thought about it, who knew there were so many different kinds of vampires? Hunters can only do so much and it wasn't a surprise that the bloodsucking rats would evolve in order to cover their tracks – how else had they been clever enough to make the world believe that they were extinct? It was only thanks to the bloody apocalypse that they had begun coming out of the woodwork and it was up to Hunters everywhere to work overtime just to keep their numbers down.

To make matters worse though, of all the bloodsuckers the brothers had crossed paths with lately, these ones had had some poor human girl completely enthralled. Just knowing that these girls actually believed that their 'lover' was some overrated, tragically misunderstood harlequin heartthrob was sickening to say the least.

And not only had they allowed themselves to be deceived by their respective Romeos, but these little Juliets had been more then willing to sell themselves as sex slaves and blood donors.

How desperate do you gotta be!

"Dean, don't you think you're taking this a little too personally?" Sam asked, trying to be the voice of reason.

His brother only glared at him.

"No."

"Well, I kinda think you are. Come on Dean, it's like your blaming yourself for these girls' bad cases of judgment. The only thing that matters is that we saved them."

"Yeah, sure," Dean muttered. "But that doesn't change the fact that we have thousands of brainwashed little tweeners out there ready to throw themselves under the fangs of hungry leeches everywhere. It's like all commonsense goes out the window the moment they learn that the hot guy is a member of the living dead club. Didn't watching Buffy teach them anything about doomed romances?"

Sam snickered. "I guess not."

Dean began pacing again.

"Take that Bella brat from Washington for example," he said, his tone entering a rare lecture mode. "Now she was a perfect example of an enthralled air-headed teenager addicted to one too many paranormal romances. Fuck, she was all hot and bothered for a dude who fucking sparkled! I don't know about you, but that's just beyond pathetic. Worse, she was a regular wax poet when it came to Eddie's perfect unearthly beauty, and how she couldn't live without him. It was enough to make me gag. And don't get me started on those shape shifters…"

Knowing that Dean's rant had only just begun, Sam finished the final dregs of his coffee and reclined in his chair in order to enjoy the show.

"Or how about that emo wannabe, Elena, from Virginia?" he continued. "Yeah, I can understand that she was broken up about her folks' death and all, but is a sadomasochistic emo trip really the way to get people's attention? Then again, she wasn't anywhere near as innocent as she liked to pretend to be. Personally, I think she got her rocks off having two undead brothers fighting over her. I think she played the whole love triangle deal cuz hey - it isn't everyday you get a vampire, let alone two vampires – brothers at that – lusting over little 'ol you." Dean was beginning to look slightly red in the face. Who would have thought he could be so longwinded when he put his mind it? "It's like she didn't give a rat's ass about who got hurt, and the tears she shed when we mentioned all the people who had already been caught in the crossfire? Now those were more than a little fake, man."

"Oh, and let's not forget that Sookie chick from Louisiana."

And then there was this one…

"What the hell kinda name is Sookie anyway?" Dean groused. "Like Stackhouse is any better, though. Inbred rednecks, most likely. Her parents musta been smoking some awfully strong drugs when they named her."

Eloquence, thy name is Winchester.

"One would think that for a telepath that powerful, she'd have been smarter then to offer herself up on her own serving platter. But no, of course not – she had to go and make a 'love connection' with the supernatural serial killer whose mind she couldn't read. Now that's the kind of bimbo that gives blondes a bad name."

Unable to help himself, Sam burst out laughing.

He was practically in tears by the time Dean had crossed the room and decked him one. It didn't stop the laughter though, and it felt good because he hadn't laughed like this in a long time now. And even though his brother was still behaving like a jilted lover, the barest hint of a smile could be seen twitching on the corners of his lips.

So all things considered, it was worth it.

Sam smiled. "I blame it on Stephanie Meyer, L.J. Smith, and Charlaine Harris."

Dean blinked.

"Who?"

"They're novelists, Dean. More importantly, they write these highly popular paranormal romance series for teens and young adults. Jess used to read them, always wondered why I couldn't stand them."

"And chicks actually like that shit?"

"Oh yeah," Sam nodded dispassionately. "'Dissing these books in front of a raging fan-girl is like poking an angry bear with a stick – it's liable to get you killed."

"Really?"

"Just look at Becky." Dean shuddered. "It's become an addiction dude; an epidemic. It's like giving crack to a two-year-old."

"It's never gonna end, is it?"

"I doubt it."

Dean stared at him for a moment, and then nodded solemnly. He had that man-with-a-mission expression on his face as he walked over to his bed and hefted his largest machete.

Thumping the flat side of the blade against his palm, he flashed his cockiest devil-may-care grin.

"Then in the immortal words of Edger and Alan Frog," he smirked, "'Death to all vampires!'"

~ End ~