Short story written for a Supernatural contest, so it's from Supernatural's point of view.
Dean Winchester vs Brian Kinney
"Because if it was a shapeshifter or a skinwalker, we would have found its skin by now." Dean was quick to reply as he pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped out of the Impala. "Those damn things shed their skin every couple of hours."
"Well maybe this one likes the face its got." Sam suggested as he grabbed his case papers from the seat between them. "Or maybe we haven't come across its skin, because it just doesn't shed it." He continued as he shut the car door and followed his older brother up to the dinner, the job that had consumed the last two days still no closer to being solved.
"What kind of shapeshifter doesn't shed, Sam?" Dean asked, his low tone of voice underlining the frustration.
"A Rougarou." Sam replied, taking a quick glance around the packed diner as they made their way over to an empty booth. "Rougarous don't shed, they morph... Maybe we've just been hunting down the wrong kind of monster... Maybe it isn't a shifter at all."
"We're in Pittsburgh, Sammy. When's the last time you've heard of a Rougarou this far north? Besides the..." Dean trailed off as the waitress made her way over, pot of coffee in hand.
"Coffee, Sugar?" She asked with a cheery voice and a warm smile.
"No, I'll have a beer." Dean replied simply, grabbing the menu from the table in front of him without so much as giving the older woman a glance.
"A beer?" She replied, momentarily silencing the crowded room around them as her voice soared above the rest. "It's nine if the fucking morning!"
Sam couldn't help but muffle a snicker as he watched his older brother's eyes drift up to the plucky, red headed waitress towering over him. What he knew Dean was looking for, was a name tag and snappy reply... but both were lost among the buttons, pins and slogans that adorned the rainbow colored vest the middle aged woman was wearing. "Thanks for the news flash, Debbie." He replied, his eyes finally focusing on what he was looking for. "But I'd still like that beer."
"Well tough, cause you're getting coffee... It's too early for beer." She bluntly replied as she poured him a cup. "Now, what about you honey?" She asked sweetly as she turned to Sam. "Coffee?"
"Yes, please." He replied simply as he returned her contagious smile. "Thanks."
"No problem, sweetheart... I'll give you two another minute or so to decide what you want." She paused for only a moment as her gaze met Dean's hardened stare. "I guess they're right when they say that opposites attract, huh?" She said with a wink.
Sam watched as the waitress walked off, and then looked over as his older brother pushed his cup of coffee away. The only other person he could think of who could talk to Dean like that and get away with it, was Ellen Harvelle. When he looked up and their eyes met, he did what he could just to keep the smirk off his face. "Dude, she totally shut you down."
"Shut up, Sam." Dean muttered under his breath as he took a quick glance around. "Where the hell are we anyway?" He asked, taking notice of the mostly male patrons, the glitter lamp on their table, and the dinner's overall flashy decor. "It's like a sausage fest at the circus in here." He continued, his eyes now scanning the crowd. "And why is everyone looking at us..."
Sam turned his attention back to his menu as his older brother scoped out the odd joint. They'd eaten in some weird restaurants before, but he had to admit, nothing he could think of, compare to this. "We're at the Liberty Dinner, Dean." He replied, looking up only to catch Debbie's eyes from behind the packed bar.
"Yeah well, if I didn't know any better, I'd think this was a gay bar..." Dean started, his brow wrinkling slightly as a man walking by slid him a phone number.
Sam couldn't help but let out a chuckle. "It probably is..." He whispered, watching as his older brother's head snapped back. As if being hit on by another man wasn't enough of a clue.
"Dude, it's called the Liberty Dinner... And most guys who where freakin feather boa's, leather pants and mesh shirts usually are." There was a moment of silence as Sam watched his brother take another glance around, the look on his face was both hilarious and priceless. "Hey, you're the one who drove us here." He couldn't help but point out. As Debbie once again approached their table, Sam offered a smile; perhaps enjoying his brother's discomfort a little too much.
"Better keep an eye on your stud here, Sweetheart... lots of guys are interested in him." She said with wink as she placed a napkin down in front of Dean; a phone number, a note, and a name scrawled across the front. "Even though I think he's quite the piece of sour candy, myself." She continued as she pointed down to the napkin, and tilted her head to the left. "Curtesy of the gentleman sitting at the end of the bar."
"Not interested." Dean replied bluntly, his eyes never leaving the note in front of him. *Leather & Jeans, we should go out for drinks later, call me... Steven*
"I tried to tell him that you were already spoken for, but these guys are like piranhas when it comes to fresh meat... If you know what I mean." She continued with a boisterous laugh.
"Oh, we're not... Together." Sam was quick to clarify. "We're brothers."
"Whatever you say, Baby... I don't judge. Now what'll you have?" She asked, pulling out a notepad and waiting for his order. "The pancakes here, are too die for."
"All right then, I'll have an order of pancakes."
"And for you, Sugar?" She asked as she turned to Dean. "What do you want with that hot cup of coffee?"
"I'm not that hungry, I think I'll pass." Dean replied simply as he set his menu back down on the table.
"Like hell, you will." Debbie snapped, putting a hand to her waist as she pointed to Dean with the other. "Breakfast is the most important meal of the day... You'll have two eggs over easy, and you're going to enjoy them. Now sit up straight." She said, jotting down the order and turning on her heels before Dean could get a word in.
"That's the second time she..."
"Just shut up." Dean cut in, his gaze momentarily drifting up as yet another man walking by, slid him a napkin with a phone number on it. "Let's just skip breakfast and get the hell out of here."
"Why? What's the rush?" Sam asked, taking a sip of his coffee as he eyed the phone numbers his brother had acquired in the fifteen minutes since they'd walked in. "Didn't know you could attract both sexes while..." Sam trailed off as he let out a laugh, he just couldn't finish his sentence and keep a straight face. "She called you a stud..." He continued, leaning back in his seat as Dean's eyes narrowed. "Ok, ok, I'm done... I swear." He blurted, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Ah, I can't wait to tell Bobby about this."
Dean shook his head as he grabbed his cup of coffee from the table between them. "Not helping, Sam." He growled, watching as the younger man enjoyed every moment of his discomfort. He took a sip from his cup and set it down on top of the napkins, trying to push it all to the back of his mind, as he waited for breakfast he hadn't even ordered. "Give me that research, I want to make sure we didn't miss anything." He started, reaching out as his younger brother passed him their files. He didn't really have an interest in going over their research again, he knew he hadn't missed a thing the first time around... He just needed something to keep busy, a distraction from the eyes that were locked on him.
"Order up boys." Debbie announced as she placed the plates down on the table in front of them. "Oh, and don't worry about the bill." She continued, as she placed a hand on Sam's shoulder. "That cute blond in the middle over there, insisted on paying up... Looks really do get you far around here." She said as she gave the younger man a pat on the cheek. "Enjoy it while you can sweetheart."
Both watched as Debbie made her way back over to the bar, their eyes drifting from the waitress to a man who was eyeing them from across the room. While Sam offered a polite smile, hoping he wasn't giving this man the wrong idea, Dean's gaze went straight to his plate. "Lets just eat so we can get out of here." He grumbled, feeling almost claustrophobic in his current surroundings.
Sam muffled another snicker as he watched his older brother dig in. "Dude, don't swallow it whole..." He said, blushing slightly when his comment resulted in a roar of laughter from the table behind them. When Dean's eyes narrowed again, he picked up his fork, knowing that if he wanted to enjoy his own breakfast, he would have to do so quickly.
Dean finished his meal in record time, and impatiently drummed his fingers on the table as he waited for his little brother to catch up. Everywhere he looked, someone was eyeing him... And unlike the women who often took notice of him in the crowded bars, the men didn't look away when he caught them starring. When the door swung open and all heads turned, he couldn't help but follow the crowd. In walked a well dressed business man with a bit of end edge; an expensive looking suit matched with an even pricier looking black leather jacket.
"Alright, which one of you idiots parked in my spot." Brian hollered, his tone of voice silencing the crowded room. He pulled his sunglasses off and slipped them into his pocket, as his eyes scanned the crowd. In the silence, you could have heard a pin drop. "I'm going to ask again, and I want an answer this time... Which one of you fucking idiots, parked in my spot!."
"Your name's not on it, and it's not reserved, you dick." Debbie replied from behind the bar, her response the universal cue for the conversations to resume. "And you're going to be late for work young man." She continued, pointing towards her son, Michael, as he followed in Brian's shadow, the one place where he could always to be found. "Michael honey, what do you want for breakfast..."
"Wonder who the hell pretty boy over there thinks he is..." Dean muttered under his breath as he turned his attention back to his brother.
"That's Brian Kinney." A man in the booth behind them whispered. "He's a pretentious, self centered, arrogant, egotistical dick... and he's the hottest, most wanted man alive. He is like the God, of Babylon. He gets what he wants, because he can, because he's Brian Kinney..."
Dean rolled his eyes as he slid out of the green leather booth and stood up, all the while wondering why this stranger felt so entitled. He dropped a few bills on the table for their waitress, and eyed the handful of phone numbers he had no intention of taking with him.
"I'm going to ask one last time." Brian continued, once again silencing the room. "Who's piece of shit Impala is parked in my spot."
Sam's heart jumped to his throat as he watched Dean's eyes suddenly narrow and his hands clench into fists. "Dude, just let it go, we were on our way out anyhow." He started, hurrying to gather his papers as Dean turned to face this other man.
"No one talks about my baby like that." The young hunter hissed. "You've got a problem buddy?" He asked as he made his way over, his gruff tone of voice obviously taking this stranger by surprise.
"Well yes I do, actually." Brian cooed, eyeing him from head to toe before his gaze drifted over to Sam as he joined them. "Your piece of shit is parked in my spot." He continued, taking a step forward to close the distance between them.
"Brian would you just let it go." Michael chimed in, his plea falling on deaf ears as his friend took another step forward.
Though Dean stood his ground, he wasn't very fond of how close this other man was now standing to him. "The car is a classic, and I'm going to park it wherever I damn well please." Dean was quick to reply, the smug smile creeping onto Brian's face only angering him more.
"Oh, well I guess I could let it slide... Since I've never seen either of you around here before. How could you have known, if you're new?" Brian started, his tone of voice suddenly softening as he once again eyed the young hunter. "Say, why don't the three of us get better aquatinted at my place later tonight... I'll teach ya the rules you need to know, and so much more than..."
"Not interested, Romeo." Dean cut in, brushing by him as he made his way towards the door, Sam following close behind.
"Watch it, you asshole." Brian growled, his tone of voice stopping the pair dead in their tracks. "This leather jacket, is worth more than your car."
"You don't know shit, about what my car is worth." Dean was quick to reply, his eyes meeting Brian's again as the other man made his way over; Michael trying to hold him back, all the while Sam is begging him to just let it go.
"You know what they say about guys with big cars, right Mikey?" Brian started with a smile, wrapping an arm around his friend's shoulders. "Means they're compensating for something else."
"Yeah, well at least my ego's in check." Dean replied, shrugging his younger brother's hand off his arm as he once again turned to face Brian. "And my classic 67 Impala might have seen better days, but I would chose it any day over whatever high priced piece of plastic & fiberglass that you're driving around... Because my baby is all real."
"You think I drive a piece of plastic & fiberglass?" Brian asked with a laugh, letting go of Michael as he straightened out. "I drive a 1971 Corvette Stingray; 400 horse power with 460 pounds of torque at the wheels... You want to talk about real American muscle, THAT's real American muscle and I BET it could beat your six-cylinder sedan, any day of the week."
Sam swore under his breath as he passed a hand through his hair, he knew Dean wouldn't walk away from this now, and judging from what he'd seen in the past few minutes, he knew Brian Kinney wouldn't back down either. What was coming next was inevitable - there was nothing he could do about it. Though the crowd around them carried on with their conversations, the din of other voices and cutlery faded to the very back of his mind as his older brother's voice rang out above everything else.
"You wanna bet?" Dean asked, pulling the keys from his pocket.
"That is what I said." Brian casually replied.
Dean offered a nod. "Five grand says my Impala can beat your Vette..."
"Dean!" Sam hissed, getting his brother's attention just long enough to catch his eyes. They were working a case in town, and the last thing they needed was to fall on the radar over something so stupid.
"I don't roll out of bed for five, make it ten." Brian replied with a grin. "Oh, and if you don't have the cash... We can always make other arrangements."
"You're on." Dean replied simply, confident enough that he wouldn't need to know what kind of arrangement the other man was referring to.
"Brian!" Michael hissed, leaning into his friend as his hands clenched the other man's arm. "This is ridiculous and you're going to be late for work!"
"Not to mention you could both get yourselves killed." Debbie chimed in from behind the bar, a hand planted on her hip.
"I'm my own boss, remember Mikey?" Brian cooly replied, ignoring Debbie's comment. "Besides, this won't take long." He said, catching Dean's eyes. "Just up around the corner, there's a one way, straight, three lane stretch that leads out of town... Meet us at the first set of lights." He informed, pulling the sunglasses from his pocket and slipping them back on. "First one to reach the third set, wins."
"Dean, this is stupid and crazy... Lets just go, we've got work to do." Sam pleaded, watching as his older brother adjusted the collar of his well worn leather jacket. "Street racing in the middle of town is reckless and downright dangerous!"
"Relax, Sammy." Dean casually replied as they made their way out of the dinner and back towards their car. "This wont take long."
"I don't care how long it's going to take." Sam continued, sliding into his seat as Dean slid in behind the wheel. "What about the other traffic on the road?"
Dean didn't offer a reply as he watched Brian and Michael climb into the little dark green Corvette that was parked a few cars ahead of them. "Something funny about two guys, getting into a little convertible like that..." He muttered to his brother as he pulled out into traffic and followed the other car around the corner. Pulling up beside them at the first of three sets of lights, Dean eyed the long stretch ahead. Though there weren't that many cars on the road, he knew it would be a challenge if the lights weren't in sync. "Alright, baby, let's show this jerk what you can do." He whispered, revving the engine as he waited impatiently for the light to turn green.
"This is crazy." Sam whispered to himself, looking over as he heard the Corvette beside him let out a menacing growl. When the Impala responded under his brother's command and the needle pulsed with each engine revolution, Sam couldn't help but tighten his lap belt. "Don't get us killed... Not like this."
"Would you relax, Sammy." Dean replied with a smile. "We've done worse..." When the light turned green and both cars launched from the white line, all that could be heard was the sound of screaming tires and engines roaring. While the Corvette pulled ahead from a dead stop first, it didn't take long for the Impala to catch up and keep pace with one of it's sportier, lighter, Chevrolet sisters. Head to head, the cars barreled down the straight stretch, the speeds climbing as they reached the second set of lights just as it switched from green to amber. For a fraction of a second, the Corvette pulled ahead and Dean could almost see the smug smile on Brian Kinney's face. "C'mon, baby." He whispered, his foot on the floor and his eyes focused on the road ahead, praying that no one would pull out in front of them. "Here's we go, last one." He said aloud; watching the next intersection, but seeing the finish line.
"Dean, watch the light..." Sam warned, a hand clamping down on the dashboard as his brother's grip tightened around the steering wheel; the amber light a heartbeat away from turning red. "Dean you're not going to make the light..." Sam continued, swallowing hard as he felt the Impala thrust ahead, his brother's foot surely holding that gas pedal down to the floor.
"Watch me." Dean replied, sucking in a breath as the needle climbed and Impala once again pulled ahead of the Corvette. Sneaking into the intersection as their light turned red, and making it out before the other one turned green; Dean couldn't help but let the smile creep up from the corner of his lips. The victory was theirs and though he took his foot off the gas, he had no intention of turning around. His eyes drifted up to the rear view mirror and at the Corvette that had fallen behind, as he headed for the off ramp that would lead them out of town.
"Dude you won, where are you going?" Sam asked, turning in his seat to watch as the other car turned at the set of lights behind them.
"Out of here, since we can't seem to solve this one anyway." Dean replied simply. "Give Bobby a call and tell him to put someone else on the case, we're done here."
"What about the ten grand you just won?" Sam continued, turning his attention back to his brother.
"Wasn't about the money, Sammy." Dean quietly started, bringing the Impala back down to the speed of traffic around them, as they made their exit and merged onto the freeway. "This one was all about pride, and cutting down some dick's ego in less than sixty seconds. Besides, nobody talk about my baby like that..." He continued, his grip on the wheel tightening. "And I mean nobody."