Maybe it was because I was working on my original fiction coyote boy novel for National Novel Writing Month in November, but a lot of Coyote!Dean oneshots came out. Ye have been warned.

The full title is: Trickster Eye for the Straight Hunter Guy From Snowy River Who Went Due South

A/N: A play on the title Queer Eye for the Straight Guy, The Man from Snowy River, and Due South. For the sake of continuity this AU Dean is the same one Coyote and Dean helped in my previous fic, Nowhereland. The views and opinions expressed by Coyote, Badger and Bear are their own and do not represent the views of this author. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

A/N the 2nd, Reader's Digest version: "In "Dog Eat Dog" Dean Winchester discovers he's the human half of the Trickster God Coyote. John's back in the land of the living, Sam's safe from the YED, and the Winchesters and Coyote hang out at Singer Salvage now.

Possible spoilers: Frontierland.

POV: First person; AU Dean.

Summary: Coyote, Bear and Badger give Frontierland!Dean tips on cowboy style. Coyote!Dean is an unwilling participant. Sequel to my earlier fic, Nowhereland.

Helen, I'm giving you due credit for this one. Take a bow, woman.

My spurs jangled as I walked forward. The weight of the Samuel Colt's special gun at my hip felt right and natural.

"Afternoon, sheriff." The Phoenix stood ten feet away. He grinned at me; sonofabitch was in a damn cheerful mood. "Time for you to die."

For some reason that made me laugh. Die? Been there, done that. "You first."

Main street in this dusty little Bumfuck town was deserted. Everyone was inside, peeping out from behind doors and windows. Not that I blamed them. The Phoenix had already barbequed some of the townspeople, including the sheriff who had the job before me.

The air between us glowed with this freaky golden light. I didn't know if this was part of the Phoenix' mojo. I dropped my right hand down to my hip. I knew I could pull the Colt and fire in one smooth move.

That was as far as I got. I couldn't move.

Fuck. I was screwed.

Then I saw the look on the fugly's face. He looked just as surprised as I did.

What the hell?

The light show faded out. The Phoenix stood as still as a statue, but I could move again. I looked around. Even the birds in the sky overhead were frozen in mid-flap. It was like that dumbass Simon Says game: "Simon says freeze" and nobody could move until Simon said otherwise.

Bird boy and I weren't alone in the street. Not any more. A large wild dog sat in the street between us.

The wild dog's Coyote. Not a Coyote. The Coyote. Coyote the Trickster.

Right then and there I decided shooting him would be a bad idea, at least until I figured out what was going on. That didn't stop me from glaring at him. He was the kind of things my family hunts.

Coyote glanced over his shoulder at the Phoenix, then turned and winked at me. "So that's what they call a Phoenix over here, huh? Geez, they really need to pony up the cash for the special effects budget. Where's the flame?"

I gave the mutt my best badass stare.

"What's the matter, boychick, don't 'cha love me anymore?"

"Never did." I tapped my fingers on the grip of the Colt. "My brother and I hunted and killed a trickster on a college campus once."

Coyote yawned long and slow like that was the most boring news he'd ever heard. "News flash, niño. That wasn't a trickster, and you didn't kill him. That was some half-assed archangel. That body switch is one of the oldest tricks in the book."

I rolled my eyes at him. Yeah, like I was gonna believe that.

Years ago, before I died, went to hell and came back, my brother Sam and me did a job out in New Mexico. The job went okay, a simple salt and burn, but we never expected what happened after that. I was snatched into this weird wasteland by a crew of spooks called the Daggett brothers. They needed a meatsuit to get out, and I was just what they were looking for.

Lucky for me, things didn't go the way they planned, either.

The air in front of me glowed again, this time white and black. I took a quick step back. Drawing the Colt and firing suddenly seemed like a damn fine idea, but I still didn't do it.

Once the Halloween lights blinked out a large black and white badger waddled into the open on all fours.

Didn't see that one coming. I half expected that animal dude Jack Hanna to pop into view next.

The badger stood up on two legs, squinted at me and then turned to Coyote. "Hey Old Man, why does your pup look like The Man From Snowy River?"

"That's 'cause he's not my pup." Coyote shrugged. "Dean's over there."

"Oh. Hello, Dean."

"Hi, Badger." The man leaning against the railing of the saloon nodded at me. "Nice duds."

I nodded back. "Huh. I was wondering when you were gonna show up."

I never forgot the first time I saw him. Never forgot what he said to me later, either:

"M'name's Dean. Dean Michael Winchester. I'm not your evil twin. I'm not a 'shifter. This isn't a rehash of that junkyard scene in Superman 3-which sucked big time, by the way-"

I scowled at him. "I liked it."

"Dude. You did?" He shook his head. "Huh. There's no accounting for taste, then. Oh well."

Daggett and his gang would have worn me like a cheap suit if this Dean Winchester and Coyote hadn't shown up. The way I understand it, they're from this other AU…alternate universe. Over there the trickster god Coyote has his human side, a hunter by the name of Dean Winchester. Same family, same background, except for the part about the 'yote.

I thought of him as a kid the first time we met. I still do, but I know I'm just fooling myself. We look and sound exactly like, even years later. He's me, in another time and place.

Yeah, this kind of thing makes my head and my ass hurt. I don't try to understand it, I just roll with it.

He wasn't dressed in cowboy gear this time. He wore faded jeans, a black t shirt and my - I mean his brown leather jacket, which is exactly like my brown leather jacket. He even wore the collar flipped up just the way I liked it.

"Sorry we couldn't break that damn deal of yours," he said quietly.

"No problem," I said, and I meant it. "Shit happens."

When they ganked Ned Daggett that bastard tried to drag me down with him. I died out there in Nowhereland. And this kid and Coyote brought me back. That's why I didn't draw the Colt on them. But I still didn't know why the hell they were here.

"Well? Now what?"

"We're here to help!" Coyote yipped brightly.

"Help? I don't need your help."

"Yeah, you do." Coyote gestured at my clothes. "You got that Australian drover thing going. That's not right."

"Australian drover?" I looked down at myself. "No, I don't!"

"Yeah, you do. Hey, Bear!"

The other Dean scrubbed his face with his hand. "Oh, brother."

The next thing I knew I was face to face with this huge brown grizzly bear. Apparently these fugs don't have any idea about personal space. I took another step back. Smokey the Bear cocked his head to one side as he leaned down and stared at me. He was so damn tall he could have eaten off the top of Sammy's head.

I glanced at Coyote boy and he shook his head. Dude, don't do it. He pushed off the railing and walked over.

"Pleased to meet 'cha," the bear rumbled.

"What the hell are you?"

"I'm a kachina. A supernatural spirit." Bear cocked his head to one side. "Hmmmm…The hat says Legends of the Fall. Brad Pitt. But the duster says Man From Snowy River."

"Huh," Coyote's ears went straight up. "A split decision. Who'da thunk it?"

This seemed awfully damned familiar. "Hey, wait a minute-"

Bear nodded, satisfied.

The kid frowned at his trickster half. "Old Man, we need to talk."

"Sure! What about?"

"Listen you know I don't have any problem meddling in life or death situations, but you mean to tell me you three came all the way over here to give this man fashion tips?"

Coyote looked offended. "Not fashion tips," he said with a casual paw flap. "Style!"

That pissed me off. "There's nothing wrong with the way I'm dressed. I make this look good!"

The mutt shook his head. "No, you don't."

"Yeah, I do."

"You're lucky he didn't shoot your furry asses," the kid said.

"Yeah, right. Like that's ever gonna happen." Coyote stared me up and down, and then snapped his fingers. "Tombstone!"

Badger licked his lips. "Hmmm…sausage and pepperoni," the critter murmured slyly.

Coyote laid his ears back, scowling. "No, not the pizza, you idiot!" he barked. "Kurt Russell. Tombstone. Wyatt Earp!"

"Ohhhh," Badger muttered. "Riiight…"

My skin tingled. I looked down at myself. I still wore my gunbelt with the Colt, but everything else was different. I had on a high necked white shirt with a black tie with a white pearl stickpin, a black vest with a silver watch on a chain, black pants, low-heeled black boots and a black greatcoat.

I snatched the hat off my head. It was black now, with a wide, flat brim. That wasn't the only change. My upper lip felt fuzzy.

Damn it, I had a mustache! A thick one with the ends curved upwards.

"You're a daisy if you do," Coyote smirked.

Shooting that damn mutt suddenly seemed like a really good idea.

"Guys, this has gone on long enough," Coyote's kid said.

The two tricksters and the kachina turned and stared at him. "Well, pup? You wanna chime in?"

"I don't think I should-"

"Aw, come on!"

"We should be getting back-" My twin's eyes flashed golden and I had that same creepy feeling against my skin. I looked down at myself.

Crap! Crap!

My clothes were red and black now. I had on a red tunic, another damn hat, high black leather boots and what looked like black bloomers with this white stripe down the side.

Hell, I looked like Dudley Do-Right.

"Oh, crap," the kid grumbled. "I hate it when that happens."

Coyote and Badger stared at me with their mouths open.

"A Canadian Mountie?" the mutt quirked one eyebrow at his boy. "Seriously?"

Bear huffed. "I like the hat."

"Your pup is weird," Badger said smugly.

"Uh, there was a Due South marathon on cable yesterday," the kid muttered lamely.

"Uh huh," Coyote laid his ears back. "No wonder I kept hearing guitar music and someone saying 'Thank you kindly.'"

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at them. "Are you guys finished?" I nodded at the Phoenix. "I got a schedule to keep, and he's not gonna gank himself."

"Yeah," my double said. "Sorry about that. We're done here." His eyes did that weird glowy thing again and my clothes returned to cowboy normal.

Coyote laid his ears back. "No we're not."

"Yeah," his pup said firmly, "We are. Dad and Sam made a grocery run into town this morning. Bobby's firing up the grill and I don't wanna miss that. So what's it gonna be? You can stay and harass Snowy River here-"

"Hey!" I gave him a really dirty look.

"-or you can come home and pig out on barbequed chicken, steaks and potato salad. Your choice." Dean the second looked at Badger and Bear and grinned a little. "You guys are invited."

Bear's stomach rumbled. Loudly. So did Badger's.

And a second later, Coyote's did too. His ears drooped a little. "Oh, all right!"

The kid glanced at the Phoenix and then winked at me. "Go get 'em, tiger."

Five feet away another weird light show formed in mid-air. No way I could get used to traveling like that. I'll take driving my baby any time.

Didn't bother my double one damn bit. He turned on his heel and walked toward the light.

"This isn't over," Coyote said brightly as he trotted alongside. "I can always come back."

"Dude, drop it, okay?"

"Nope! Not gonna. Why doesn't he wear the leather jacket more often?"

"Old Man-"

"You should be concerned about this too! He's eaten salads, worn godawful suits, ties, and suspenders. He liked elevator music and he drove a Prius! A Prius, niño! What's next?"

Oh, crap.

"You can thank those sorry ass angels for that," Dean the second sighed. "He's not me, so why the hell do you even care?"

"I just do, is all. What happened to those elephant hair bracelets he used to wear?"

"Will you give it a rest?"

"Where's the amulet Sammy gave him for Xmas?" Coyote's voice echoed as they disappeared. "I demand answers, damn it! Inquiring minds wanna know!"

Bear followed them in, and Badger was last.

Yeah, I was gonna need a good stiff drink or two once we got back to Bobby's. And maybe it was better to keep this to myself. I just got Queer Eyed by a bunch of tricksters, for God's sake. Sam would have a field day with that one.

If I told him.

So I'm not going to. 'cause I hate to admit it, that dumb old dog had a point. What the hell was next in my life?

I threw away the amulet Sam gave me that Christmas. I can't remember the last time I wore my leather. Can't remember the last time I even felt like putting it on. Or feeling good about myself when I finally did.

The wind picked up. Everything was back into motion now. Time to get back to work. I could get all emo and stare at my belly button later.

The Phoenix cleared his gun from his holster. He was fast.

I was faster.


"He's eaten salads, worn godawful suits, ties, and suspenders. He liked elevator music and he drove a Prius! A Prius, niño! What's next?"

Coyote is referencing the episode "It's A Terrible Life."