A/N: I wrote this for an lj fic exchange to fill the prompt: Classical Genderswap. Now Sam has to find the answer to switching his big sister back to his big brother and manage to get Dean to help instead of going to lesbian bars. This fic exchange included art and I got some rather amazing art for this from Angelus2Hot. If you'd like to see it, check out my lj page. I'm lolaann1 over there. I'd give a link, but this site would just eat it.
Bobby tugged open his front door while balancing a loaded shotgun on his lap. Anything of the demon, monster, or traveling salesman variety best be prepared to go home with an ass chocked-full of rock salt. It wasn't wise to come knocking on the door of a bitter, wheelchair bound drunk. He was just looking for an excuse.
When he looked up and saw the familiar face of one of his boys, he softened a little. Not that he was going to show it. He did wonder why the kid had a girl with him. That was odd. They didn't usually bring their women around here. Must be a job.
"Sam," he said dryly. "Didn't expect to see you today. Where's your brother?"
Sam just shook his shaggy head and pursed his lips in what Dean often referred to as his 'extra-pissy bitchface'. He cut his eyes to his right and Bobby followed his gaze to take a better look at the girl he had with him. It took him about two seconds to decide he needed to drink less... or maybe more, a whole lot more.
"You're not…" he said as he continued to stare.
The woman just grinned at him. It was a grin that was way too cocky and way too familiar.
"Hey Bobby," she said in a voice that was a little deeper and huskier than most women's, but still feminine. It was the kind of voice many men dreamed about. Actually, the entire package was the thing of the average man's dreams. She was tall, leggy, and had absolutely perfect features framed by long, dark blond locks. The disturbing thing was that those perfect features were nothing more than a softer, feminized version of Dean's, complete with a spattering of freckles across the nose. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that this girl was the boy's long lost twin sister. She was even dressed like him. In fact, he was pretty sure those actually were Dean's clothes, because they were definitely too big for the girl's frame. She looked a little lost (and unsettling cute) among the rolled-up yards of denim and flannel fabric.
"Can we come in, Bobby?" Sam asked with a tired sigh. "Obviously, we need to talk."
"You don't say," he managed to force out as he rolled his wheelchair backwards to make room for the boys… er, the boy… and the… damn. He couldn't even bring himself to think it. It was way too bizarre. He'd often teased Dean about being too pretty for a man, but this was beyond ridiculous.
"Got any beer?" she asked.
He gestured vaguely toward the kitchen. "Uh… yeah. You know where it is… I reckon."
She winked at him and strutted toward the kitchen on very bowed legs. Jesus H. Christ.
"You're not going crazy," Sam said. The boy had clearly read his mind. "That's Dean… or Deana or whatever the hell… Do you know he's even more annoying as a girl?"
"Sam, do I have to come out and ask… What in the wide, wide world of sports is goin' on here? I know our lives are weird, but that in there takes the cake. It takes the whole flippin' bakery."
"It's awesome," came a voice from behind him. A very familiar, though higher pitched voice.
"Have you lost your damn mind?" Bobby snapped as he whirled the chair around. "What do you mean it's 'awesome'. Dammit Dean. Ain't you noticed you're lookin' a little different these days?"
"What do you mean?" girl-Dean teased, grinning from ear to ear, then taking a sip from her beer with a pair of obscenely full lips.
Bobby squinted to get a closer look, because he could almost swear he detected a hint of gloss on those lips.
"Aww come on, Bobby. Don't look at me like that. I don't swing that way."
"Dammit Dean," he repeated. "Is anybody gonna tell me what the hell's goin' on here?"
"Dean pissed off a wiccan priestess," Sam replied in a short, clipped tone. The boy sounded even more put-upon than he usually did when his brother was acting the fool. "Apparently, Dean's vocabulary is way too full of misogynistic slurs. Who knew?"
"Hey," girl-Dean piped up defensively. "She was right. This is a whole new world. My eyes have been opened. I never realized what dicks most of you guys are. It's disgusting! I'm ashamed to admit I was ever one of you."
"Are you serious? Is he… she serious?" Bobby asked Sam.
Sam threw up his arms in exasperation. "Just listen."
"I've found myself, Bobby," she said seriously. "I guess I always knew it, somewhere deep down, but now I can finally come out and admit it. I'm a lesbian, dude. You don't know how free I feel."
"That's the most asinine thing I've ever heard," Bobby bellowed. "I'm too old for this goofy bullshit. You ain't no lesbian!"
Girl-Dean actually looked offended. "That really hurts, Bobby. I thought you had my back. I thought you'd be the one person who'd accept me for who I am. You're just like Sam," she pouted. "Why can't you be happy for me?"
"Oh, boo hoo, princess. Give me a friggin break. Are you kidding me? I can't believe you're not freakin' out and begging to get your precious family jewels back. That witch musta messed with your melon too."
"Oh he was begging," Sam cut in, interrupting girl-Dean before she could reply. "That's all I heard about for two days straight. He wouldn't stop whining. Dude, I want my freakin' junk back," Sam mimed in his best Dean imitation.
"That was before I had my revelation," she said smugly.
"Yeah, guess what Deana's profound revelation was, Bobby?"
Bobby shook his head. He wasn't sure he wanted to know anything else. "I don't know, Sam. I only know I need another damn drink."
"He went to a lesbian bar," Sam announced as he gestured wildly at Dean. "He realized he had an even easier time hooking up there than he did as a guy in the average bar. That was his earth shattering revelation! Dude's even wearing lip gloss now. He claims he's embracing his feminine side, but he's actually just trying to get laid."
"Chicks dig the cherry flavored kind," girl-Dean agreed with a nod and a leer.
"For Pete's sake," Bobby grumbled. "Can't you just call up Cas and put an end to this nonsense?"
Sam huffed out a breath and flared his nostrils. Bobby could tell he was getting real wound-up now. That kid was going to have a stroke one day.
"That's the thing, Bobby! Cas won't change him back. He said that Michael has to have a male vessel. So, if Dean's Deana, he can't use him and the apocalypse might have to be called off."
"Sexist bastard," his brother/sister spat venomously. "I'm the perfect vessel. Look at me. I'm a babe and I still kick ass!"
"That's why we're here," Sam continued after pausing to roll his eyes at girl-Dean. "I thought you might be able to find a way to change him back."
"Oh, hell no! I came here to come out of the closet, not be shoved back in it. Deal with it, Sammy. I'm a woman and I'm a lesbian. Either you accept me, or we're going our separate ways. It's as simple as that."
"No, Dean," Sam practically yelled. "It's even simpler than that. You're a dumbass! Bobby?"
"I'm stayin' outta this, Sam. If your idjit brother wants to be a lesbian, I ain't here to stop him. Hell, maybe this is a good thing? If Dean's happy and the apocalypse is off, I say we bake a damn cake."
"Thanks Bobby," girl-Dean beamed happily.
Bobby headed to the kitchen to get something stronger than the beer his new 'niece' had brought him. As expected, Sam wasn't far behind.
"I can't believe you, Bobby! You're actually going along with this? Aren't you gonna do something?"
"Kid, right now the only thing I'm gonna do is pour myself an extra-large glass of rotgut."
"But Bobby –,"
"Sam," he interrupted sternly. "I think you're the one that needs to pull your panties outta your ass. How long has Dean been like this?"
"Almost a week."
"Well, then you've got nothin' to worry about. Your brother may have held out for thirty years in hell, but I give this thing three more weeks tops. Trust me, the minute Deana has her first bout with PMS, she'll be begging to get her original plumbing restored. Until then, have a drink and let his stupid ass pretend to be a lesbian. That boy hasn't enjoyed anything this much since he got outta the pit. So quit bitchin and deal!"
Bobby shook his head at the pinched, mutinous expression on Sam's face and raised his glass to his lips. He didn't take a sip though. Instead, he laughed. Long and hard. It was the first genuine laugh he'd had since being stuck in a damn wheelchair. Thank God for feminist wiccans. At least somebody upstairs has a sense of humor.
3 Weeks Later...
Dean sat on the edge of the couch cushion with her legs splayed in a very unladylike manner and proceeded to studiously read the label on her beer bottle. Even in the female body, Bobby could read all of his expressions. He/she had something to say, but just didn't know how to say it.
"What is it Dean? Somethin' on your mind?"
"Nah," she said with a shrug. "It's just… never mind."
Bobby rolled his eyes and watched as Dean picked at the label on the bottle. "What is it sweetheart?" he teased. "You can tell your Uncle Bobby."
Her head snapped up. "Dude! That's not funny. You sound like a giant perv! I'm a grown woman, Bobby, and sweetheart sounds condescending as hell." She jabbed a finger at him. "It's that kinda talk that got me turned in the first place. So, unless you're a closet lesbian too, you better watch that male chauvinist mouth of yours."
Bobby stared impassively at Dean for a moment and then glanced over at his brother. Sam just smirked, raised his eyebrows, and took a pull off his beer. It seemed he'd given up on trying to reason with his older sibling. Bobby was on his own here.
"Okay Dean," he said with forced patience. "What would you like to tell me?"
She shrugged. "It's probably nothing… It's just… Well, I was thinking maybe the witch laid some extra whammy on me. You know, besides the whole sex change thing."
"That wasn't enough!"
Bobby immediately regretted that little outburst, because girl-Dean did not look very happy. He cleared his throat and asked, "What makes you think that?" hoping to move the conversation along.
"Last day or so, I've been having these pains," she said sheepishly. "It's kinda weird. It's like somebody's sticking a knife in my gut, and earlier I noticed that… Now, don't laugh," she warned icily.
Bobby held up his hands in surrender. "Not laughing."
"Good, cause I'm not joking." Girl-Dean paused for a moment before continuing. "My boobs are hurting, okay. It's freaky as hell. At first I thought it was cause I played with 'em too much… Hey, they're really nice!" she defended before Bobby could comment. "Anyway… That ain't right, is it Bobby? You think that bitch - I mean, lady - laid another curse on me? Think you could do some research?"
Bobby took his cap off and scratched at his head. How was he supposed to put this?
"These pains of yours… You think 'cramps' is a fair word for 'em?"
Girl-Dean nodded. "Yeah. Sounds right. Why? Does that help?" she asked hopefully.
Sam had already caught on and was sniggering behind his hand like a twelve-year-old. Bobby was going to smack the fool out of that boy when he got a chance.
"Dean, the thing is… You're only about half right. Some people use the word 'curse'… well my momma and my aunt did anyway…"
Damn, Bobby wished he had a good, stiff drink. He was just going to have to spit it out, because girl-Dean obviously wasn't any brighter than boy-Dean when it came to these kinds of things. The idjit looked like a deer in headlights.
"Kid, it ain't no curse. Not a supernatural one, anyway. You have PMS, Dean. You should invest in a bottle of Midol and some…" Bobby waived his hand in the air. "Whatever else it is you ladies need during that time of the month."
Girl-Dean was clearly on the verge of panic and Sam had given up on trying to hide his laughter. His 'sister' gave him a look that could kill and then turned wide-eyes on Bobby.
"The hell? NO, Bobby! That can't be right. This ain't natural."
"Oh, it's natural all right."
Her face became extremely pale. "Change me back, Bobby! Now! Dude, you gotta do something about this! I was wrong. This is clearly NOT awesome." She began to pace the room, alternating between gripping her stomach and her breasts. "You guys were right. I'm not a real lesbian. Man, I'm not cut out for this. Change me back! "
Bobby already had the reversal spell ready. He'd just been waiting for Dean to ask for it, but he decided to make him sweat a little longer.
"Keep your panties on. I'll look into it."
A/N: At least I didn't give him a menstrual migraine that no drug on earth could defeat. I wouldn't do that to my worst enemy, let alone the sexiest man alive. I'm soooo sorry about this, Dean.