All right, which one of you UTTER UTTER UTTER BASTARDS left this plot bunny in the fume cupboard? Seriously, quod the fuck? I've only just squashed the last one! Then this morning, I had one of the minions complaining that the fume cupboard in the lab was making The Brown Noise (it sounds like something is stuck in the flue), so I went to investigate, lifted up the sash, and a frigging PLOT BUNNY flashed its little white tail at me! Well, I made a grab for it, and it hurriedly whispered a few phrases, but then it jumped up onto the top reagent shelf behind the big bucket of dessicant, where I can't get at it. However, sometimes, writing down what it said to start with can be enough to get it talking - some sort of a plotline would be nice - and since it's worked before, I thought we could try it again, so here goes...

DISCLAIMER: They're not mine. If they were, I'd put them to work to earn their keep, and when you found out what employment I'd put them to, you'd all be down here visiting me and I wouldn't have to type anything, I could just tell you. While they fanned you with big feather fans.

WORKING TITLE: Teacher's Pet

RATING: T. Because if I sew Dean's mouth shut, the Deangirls will get upset.

SUMMARY OF THE MOMENT (subject to change without notice): A job involving mysterious disappearances has the Winchesters travelling to California, to investigate Polly's Perfect Pooches Canine Academy. They are accompanied by two of Jimi's pups, Lemmy and Lars the 3/4 Hellhounds - they have big brown puppy eyes, cute little puppy faces, adorable puppy ears, and buckets and buckets of puppy puke. Plus some rather interesting Hellbred talents; Baby's back seat, Dean's Doritos and Sam's testicles may never be the same again...

BLAME: I blame the Denizens, who are all shameless breeders and exporters of plot bunnies. Sometimes, I think I have a small insight into what poor Chuck must go through.


Prologue

When the Classic Chevy pulled into the lot and parked in the shadows where one of the lights had blown, Deena looked up from the housekeeping cart she was loading, and smiled.

"Your luck could be changing," she told Pam, who sat tapping at the keyboard, reviewing the week's reservations; their town wasn't that big, but the annual Rainbow Pride parade was becoming a well attended event, and they were almost booked out.

"My luck already changed," Pam said shortly, "The judge didn't buy that asshole's 'Oh I'm So Poor' crap, and the divorce has come through. I've used up all my luck for the week."

"No, seriously," Deena nudged her co-worker as the driver climbed out of the Chevy, "You like 'em tall, don't you?"

"At the moment, I don't like 'em at all if they have a dick," griped Pam, "I'm considering taking the veil, or batting for the other team. I should've headed off to the Pride march tonight, gone to the after party, and found myself a nice girl."

"Now, that's just the sort of defeatist talk we don't tolerate around here," replied Deena sternly. "You gotta get back on the horse. Or, even better, the cowboy. Or at least, let him get back on you..."

"Deena, it's been so long that I can't remember who wears the stockings and who holds the hamster," sighed Pam.

"All the more reason to get back into practice!" insisted Deena. "You need to get laid, Pam. Hey, tall dark and handsome – oh yeah, he's cute - is coming this way. Ask for his number!"

"No," snapped Pam. "Not unless 'he' is actually a drag king named Hans Upskurt who will be too busy performing to do anything except buy me drinks and admire me from afar."

"Well, that hair does look kind of girly," Dina conceded. "Okay, tell you what, you can have TD&H, and I'll have his friend Hot Lips over there..."

After TD&H had come in and politely booked a room with a rather strained but nonetheless cute dimpled smile, Pam turned a look of smug triumph on her workmate.

"Told you that all my luck was used up for the week," she grinned.

"Yeah, yeah," sighed Deena, watching the retreating cute guy head back to his friend. His boyfriend, presumably – once they'd moved out of the shadows of the broken light, the colourful splodges all over their clothes were a disappointing give-away. "Looks like the Rainbow Parade was a real hoot this year. Damn, why is it always the cute ones?" She cocked her head. "Hey, which one do you think pitches, and which one catches?"

"Deena..."

"See Hot Lips over there? I bet he catches. Yeah, he's got bottom written all over him..."

"Deena!"

"You know, there's that crack in the wall in Room Four that wasn't patched right – if we move that picture of the cross-eyed kittens out of the way... you wanna get a bottle of wine and make an evening of it?"

"Oh, God, Deen, you are so disgusting."


So, whaddyareckon? I wonder if this is one of the brothers of Petunia, the plot bunny who dictated 'Nun Of That'.

Reviews are the Strategically Placed Holes In The Partition Walls Of Life!*

*In the Jimiverse, if you DO peek through that hole, you will see Sam using the laptop, and Dean sharpening a knife. Or eating pie. Fully clothed.