Disclaimer: *sulks* don't own.
Rating: Gonna go for a K+ because it's a teeny bit saucy
Word Count: approx 700
"So, it looks like one of us will have to act as bait to draw the Succubus out" said Sam, closing the laptop.
Dean sighed, "well, it'll have to be me, won't it".
Sam gave him a questioning look.
"I mean", Dean continued, "unless she's some needy, touchy-feely, new age, hippy chick succubus who's into angsty geeks and enjoys meaningful conversation before, during and after sex, you're hardly gonna be her type, are you?"
Sam frowned. "so I suppose the fact that you're a shameless man-tramp who will bang anything with oestrogen makes you her type then, does it?"
"Sam, firstly, I am every woman on the planet's 'type', even the fugly Supernatural ones". Dean jabbed his finger petulantly, "and secondly, I take exception to your comment about banging anything with oestrogen; I'm a strictly one-species guy, dude. Girl sheep have oestrogen, and I have never banged a sheep, nor do I ever intend to."
"Well, there was that time in Colorado …" offered Sam
"Sam, button it."
"with the Shetland Pony …"
"SAM! you are one syllable away from a fat lip!"
Sam grinned mischieviously.
"Anyway", Dean snorted, "that wasn't my fault - I can't be held responsible for anything that happened on that hunt; that freakin' witch put a spell on me."
"Only because you ran her cat over."
"It was an accident - but typical skanky witch - wouldn't listen when I tried to explain ..."
Dean fell into a short sulk.
"You know I love animals Sammy, I could never be cruel to any of God's little creatures."
"Well, I'm one of Gods little creatures" pouted Sam, "you don't mind being cruel to me!"
"You don't count" snapped Dean irritably, "pain-in-the-ass kid brothers are fair game."
"Anyway" he continued huffily, "shall we get back to the matter in hand?"
Dean pulled his chair over to join Sam at the tatty motel table which was groaning under the weight of the huge grimoire they had borrowed from Bobby's library, and they began to pore unenthusiastically over it's dusty pages.
"It was Daisy, wasn't it?" Sam's voice broke the pall of boredom that had descended over them both.
"The Shetland Pony?;Daisy?" Sam repeated with a grin. He had decided baiting his brother was far more fun than researching the succubus hunt just now.
"Sam, go and boil your face" came the grunted response.
Dean slammed the book shut. "I know what you're thinking, you pervy little troll", he snapped, "and you know damn well that Bobby was able to find the incantation to lift the spell before things got out of hand."
Sam spluttered with barely disguised mirth.
"All I did was hit on her and buy her a bunch of flowers."
"I remember", chuckled Sam, "she ate them!"
"Right," he snapped, "well, you can be fugly-ass Succubus bait then; just so I can sit in the impala in comfort and watch you get stood up by something that no one else would touch with a long stick, geek boy."
Sam snorted with hilarity and leaned back in his chair. He knew that whatever was said, it was a moot point; however stroppy Dean became, he would never allow Sam to put himself at risk as bait to the succubus.
"Anyway, Mister Sammy Smug McSmartass," Dean announced, rising from the table; "it wasn't Daisy, it was Dolly; so you were wrong. So stop your sniggering and poke it Princess."
Dean stomped away from the table toward his candy stash looking mightily pleased with himself; battle won by Dean Winchester.
Sam watched him go, his face alight with wicked glee. "Dean, that's so sweet," he smiled; "Dolly must have meant a lot to you. I mean, you never seem to remember the name of your human conquests …"