Author's Note: Finally catching up to everything I wanted to write when season five aired but couldn't due to school. This one is set a little after "The Curious Case of Dean Winchester" and is pure and utter crack. It's Dean/Castiel, but no slash. Again, pure, and utter crack and a bit of "aww" kind of fluff. Rating is mostly for language and violence and all story notes at the end.

Tiresias for a Day

By: Sailor Moonac

After being turned into an old man for a day and nearly dying from its effects, Dean most certainly didn't want to deal with witches any time soon, especially with the Apocalypse going down. However, when a job is literally the front page of The New York Times, there really is no choice but to take the hunt. According to The New York Times, the mayor of New York City was turned into a sex doll by an angry middle-age woman who was apparently the mayor's lover. And of course, this was done with cameras rolling and plenty of witnesses. Now the whole world "knows" about the supernatural. Although most people believe the entire incident to be fabricated by right wing liberals trying to resurrect the Illuminati...according to The New York Times. Either way, there was no mayor of New York City in the Mayor's office and instead, a sex doll that looks exactly like him with the word "Sarah's Bitch" stamped across its forehead occupied the office. Dean and Sam took one look of a Youtube video of the incident and looked at each other and pronounced "witch." Therefore Dean, despite his apprehensions about dealing with witches any time too soon, had to hunt a witch.

The witch apparently named Sarah, was typical of all witches, aside from Patrick. Foolish, greedy, jealous, covetous, etc., etc., etc., and really annoying. And had a rather large Grimoire with spells that she had apparently memorised by heart. Therefore, burning her Grimoire and trying to reason with the woman to stop was pointless. Sam found that out the hard way when she spelled him into a wall and gave him extremely burning and painful Chancroids. Sam, angrily clutching his crotch, pulled himself up from the wall and fired rounds of salt into the witch's abdomen. Sarah, clutching her bleeding abdomen, started chanting a spell that deflected the next round of salt rounds straight back into Sam. Dean tackled the witch into the ground, yelling Sam's name and punched Sarah in the face. Sarah struggled under Dean's weight, chanting another spell which threw Dean off her. Quickly getting to her feet, she began another chant. Dean got up quickly and dived for his shotgun near the witch's feet. Sarah dived for the gun at the same time, grappling with Dean for the weapon while still chanting the spell.

Sam dived for the witch and pulled out the Demon Killing Knife, plunging it into her heart from behind. The witch glared at Dean angrily as she lost her grip on the shotgun. "Fuck you." With that, Sarah spat blood into Dean's face and fell backwards. Sam quickly moved out of the way, wincing and clutching his bleeding abdomen as Sarah fell down, dead.

"Fucking gross." Dean spat bloody spit out of his mouth before gagging. "That stupid witch spat blood in my mouth—eww, she spat in my fucking eye!"

"Dean," rasped Sam in pain. "Shut up and get us to the motel. I've got rock salt in me!"

"Fucking witches."

For once, Sam decided being as foul-mouthed as his brother was not a crude thing. After all, he was just shot with his own rock salt round. And she gave him another STD. "Yeah. Fucking witches."

After getting back to the motel, Dean spent the next three hours pulling bloody rock salt from Sam's abdomen before giving Sam a very painful debridement. At the same time, Dean was trying to wash out the already-washed-out taste of witch blood from his mouth with a good helping of whiskey. Dean was tempted to gouge out the eye the witch spat into, but decided against it and declared atleast he didn't have Chancroids like Sam. Sam flicked off his older brother and went to bed, mumbling about Oxycodone and STD's. Dean winced in pain as he removed his shirt and went to bed too in just boxers, hoping that with the witch dead and her Grimoire destroyed, the Mayor was once again a human [though he probably did deserve getting turned into a sex doll] and Sam's STD and wounds would heal okay. Of course with witches, things never turn out properly.

Sam was the one who woke up first the next day despite being under pain medication. Sam tentatively moved to sit up against the headboard of the bed before throwing one of the pillows from his bed at Dean's sleeping form. "Dean, wake up! I'm gonna need some help walking to the bathroom. Ugh...and some more pain killers."

Dean threw off the covers and sat up.

"Oh my God!"

Dean looked over to Sam and raised a brow. "What?" Dean paled and looked down. "Fuck!"

Sam quickly turned away and knocked his head against the wall over the bed. "F. My. Life."

Dean got up and reached for a shirt from his duffel. "Well at least I can say without a doubt, that I make one seriously hot chick. Damn, these have got to be D's or even E's."

Sam groaned and started repeatedly banging his head against the wall. "Fuck my life."

After reading online the day before that the mayor of New York City was turned into a sex doll, Bobby really didn't expect anything to be able to top that in terms of craziness. That is, until the Winchester brothers—siblings showed up on his doorstep with Sam clutching his crotch and bloody abdomen painfully and a busty, wavy blond hair, green-eyed girl wearing Dean's oversized clothes waving sheepishly.

Bobby sighed. "What did you two idjits do this time?"

"Witch," responded both siblings before pushing past Bobby to make their way into the study to hit the books. Bobby sighed before shutting the door and wheeling his way into his study. It was going to be a very long day.

Nearing midnight, Sam shut the book he was reading and finally decided to call Castiel. Dean, like many times before that day, started wrestling Sam for his cell phone. Normally, Dean would atleast be a match for Sam, however at 164 centimetres and 54 kilograms, Sam had over a foot over Dean, plus the added weight. In other words, Sam was merely raising the cellphone high over his head with the speaker phone on while Dean jumped and tried to climb up Sam to grab the cellphone.

"Fuck, Sam! No, don't call Cas! Damn it, I don't want Cas to see me as a fucking girl!"

Bobby took a swig of his beer and mumbled, "who curses worse than a male sailor."

Sam clutched his injured abdomen and smiled down at his now older sister. "Dude, we've been searching for hours and we haven't found anyway to reverse this! The mayor's still a sex doll, I've still got Chancroids, and you're still a girl—"

"Yes?" Castiel's usual gruff tone was heard over the speaker phone. Dean quickly jumped onto the table to grab the cellphone from Sam just as he screamed their location and "Help—"

"I'm here! What is the matter?" Castiel appeared with a gust of wind, blowing papers all over the place in the room. Bobby muttered a curse as he tried to keep a hold of his papers on his desk and glared at Castiel. Dean cursed aloud as she clicked the end call button on Sam's cellphone and threw it at a smirking Sam. Sam caught the phone easily with one hand before gingerly taking a seat at the table, grinning at Castiel and holding an arm protectively over his injury. Castiel swept his gaze from Sam, to Bobby, before finally settling on the female Dean. Castiel cocked his head to the side as his brows drew together in confusion. "Dean? Why are you female?"

Sam's grin grew wider as Dean threw up his—her hands in frustration. "One word from you Cas and I'm banishing you to Oz!"

Castiel's confusion grew more evident as he tilted his head completely to the opposite side with his brows still furrowed. "You want to banish me to Isère?"

"What?" Dean turned to Sam in confusion.

"France."

Dean rolled her eyes. "Of course you would know. Get me a damn knife. I may like you normally Cas, but I am going to banish your arse—"

"What? Dean no—"

"What happened?" Castiel had quickly moved into Dean's personal space and looked down at Dean in confusion. Dean quickly crossed her arms over her bust and glared up at Castiel and tensed.

"Idjits got cursed by a witch."

Castiel turned to Bobby and Sam bit the inside of his lips to hide his smirk when he saw Dean visibly relax when Castiel turned away his gaze. "And you cannot find the counter-curse in the witch's Grimoire?"

Bobby took a large swig of his beer. "Those idjits burnt it. Now we have dirty politician who's probably seeing more action than he ever thought he would at his age, Sam's got Chancroids, and Dean's that."

Castiel frowned and turned his attention back to Dean. "I'm sorry, but I do not have much power to be able to break curses so easily as I once did. But I can try."

"Good, but can you try to turn the mayor of New York City back into a human first? It's causing quite a commotion." Castiel nodded at Sam's request, his attention still on Dean, scrutinising Dean's female features.

Dean glared up at Castiel. "Look at that, I'm so hot that even the angel wants to bang me. Hell, I would want to bang myself, looking like this."

Sam grimaced. "Eww. Dean—"

"I apologise Dean." Castiel took a step back from Dean who finally uncrossed her arms over her bust. "But even as a woman, you are very beautiful." And with that, Castiel disappeared with the sound of a flutter of wings.

"Oh my Go—is Cas hitting on me?" Sam and Bobby didn't bother to subjugate Dean with an answer. Dean shrugged and went to her duffel to start digging around. After a minute of searching, Dean threw her duffel aside. "Sam, where are the clothes I bought?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. "You mean those hooker clothes?"

Dean rolled her eyes at her brother. "They're not hooker clothes. And yes, those clothes."

Sam motioned to a plastic bag by his own duffel. "They're in there. And they are definitely hooker clothes. No one wears pleather, bright red, skin-tight, mini-dresses with matching boots unless they're a hooker."

"Do I even want to know?" Sam shook his head at Bobby.

Dean grabbed the not-hooker clothes out of the bag Sam pointed to. "It was Goodwill, and these were the only clothes that were suitable for a bar. All of the other clothes were for old ladies dressed in the 90's. Can't go to a bar dressed like this can I?" Dean fingered her normal clothes and pulled the top collar away from her neck to look down at her bust. "Man, look at the size of those things."

Bobby slammed shut his book and quickly turned his wheel chair. "I'm going to bed. I'm certainly not going to stay up and watch you grope yourself." With that, Bobby wheeled out of the study leaving Dean and Sam alone.

Sam watched Bobby wheel out of the room before turning his attention back to his brother—sister. "Are you going to do what I think you're going to do?"

Dean started to take of her T-shirt and Sam turned his head away. "What do you think I'm going to do?"

"Go out to the bar and get laid."

Dean grinned at Sam who still had his head turned away and pulled up the zipper on the not-hooker dress. "You got that right baby brother. Now how many people in the world can say they've had sex as a man and a woman, legitimately. Without the whole sex-change thing?"

"Tiresias could."

"Who?"

Sam shook his head and chanced a glance at Dean, grimacing when he saw Dean's bust nearly falling out of her dress. "But Cas might come back and break the curse."

Dean shrugged as she pulled on her matching boots and started walking in the chunky heels. "Well then, have him cure you of your STD and tell him to fix me after I've gotten laid."

"And contract your own STD in the process."

Dean just grinned at Sam and swayed her hips. "You're just jealous. And admit it, my boobs were nice. Don't wait up Sammy."

Sam watched Dean leave and couldn't help but admit that 1) Dean did make a pretty hot girl [surprise there], especially his—her bust that he caught an eye full of this morning, and 2) yes, Sam was slightly jealous that Dean was going to get laid, and 3) he was indeed curious as to how it would feel to have sex as a girl.

Without a doubt, Dean knew he—she was hot. Considering the moment she stepped into this bar, an hour's drive away from Bobby's, every man and a few women's eyes have not stopped eyeing his—her body. Dean was getting laid tonight, that she was determined. Swaggering up to the bar [and trying not to fall over in those chunky red boots], Dean ordered for the first time in her life, a Martini. Thank God Sam wasn't around to witness this. But if Dean was going to play the part of a girl for one night, she might as well drink like one. And since she was a girl for the night and she most certainly couldn't wear a pair of men's boxers to get laid, Dean stopped by a lingerie store on the way to the bar to pick up a pair of lacy, pink, satin panties. But Sam does not need to know that.

Dean eyed the men around the bar leering at her. If she was going to get laid tonight, she might as well be picky and chose a man that was everything Dr. Sexy was. Or at least as close as anyone could get to Dr. Sexy, considering Dr. Sexy was perfection in itself. After several sweeps of the bar, Dean finally spotted the man closest to Dr. Sexy. Admittedly, he resembled the witch Patrick slightly, but he was wearing cowboy boots! That was the man Dean was going to have sex with tonight.

It seemed that man had the same idea as he slowly made his way to Dean with an arrogant smirk on his lips. Dean eyed him appreciatively [without any hesitations because damn it, Dean was a girl tonight] and barely noticed the other men in the bar glaring at Mr. Dr. Sexy [Patrick] look-alike. Dean easily worked his—her charm. And the man would not stop looking at her voluptuous bust and Dean had to appreciate that indeed he—she was hot and busty. Dean introduced himself as 'Deanna,' mentally apologising to her deceased grandmother for using her name. Within ten minutes of shameless flirting, Dean[na] was being led out of the bar by Mr. Dr. Sexy look-alike. Of course, the universe has always seemed to be against Dean and of course problems would have to arise. This time in the form of other men who also wanted to be the one leaving the bar with the very female Dean. Ensue, bar fight—brawl. And of course, Dean was right in the middle of it.

The man Dean had decided she was going to sleep with that night, was definitely not going to be able to do much in terms of sex for the rest of the night...week. He was currently moaning in pain, covered in blood over a pool table with a tooth broken by a cue ball. Surrounding Dean were various other men, many of them bikers it seemed, throwing bottles and punches at each other. Men would be grabbing Dean's arm or around the waist to try to pull Dean with them to exit the bar, because even though Dean insisted the dress was a not-hooker dress, everyone else disagreed. As a result, Dean would have to twist her arm around out of men's grip and punch them in the face that normally would have broken their noses. Now, as a girl and struggling to be able to move in those matching red, chunky, high-heeled boots, Dean had to settle for fighting dirty. So instead, Dean punched men in the eyes, and kneed men in their bollocks, mentally wincing at the pain she knew those men would be suffering.

After knocking away another man who grabbed her arm, another large biker grabbed Dean from behind, heaving her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. "You fucker, let me go!" Dean elbowed the man in the back of the head and the man grunted before angrily dropping the female Dean head first into a table. Dean clutched her head with her right hand, which was surprisingly not bleeding, before that same biker grabbed that same arm and started dragging Dean towards the door, pushing aside other brawling men. Dean attempted to kick the man in the bollocks but instead tripped in her chunky heels, twisting her ankle. "Damn it, let me go!"

"Oh no you whore, you and I are having some fun tonight."

Dean cursed the man aloud before mentally cursing herself for dressing, and admittedly acting a bit like a prostitute. Dean found a new appreciation for the women who work as prostitutes, especially the one whose father ran away because he hated his job at the post office—Castiel. Dean knew she had sigils scribed into her ribs in her very male body, but as a female, there might be a small possibility, however unlikely, that those sigils weren't transferred and maybe—"Cas! Cas, help! Please!" Dean was dragged nearly out the door and the other men who were trying to wrestle with the huge biker dragging Dean, were all thrown aside and easily taken out by the biker. In desperation, Dean yelled "Christo." The man didn't flinch or even noticed, causing Dean's heart to sink. If that man had been a demon, then he could have exorcised it at least—

Dean was dragged out the bar and there were no signs of police sirens anywhere near, indicating the police that were most likely called, were still a good distance away. Dean cursed herself again for choosing a bar so far away from Bobby's and so far away from civilisation. This wasn't how Dean wanted to have sex the first time as a girl and there may be a possibility that she could die tonight. Dying fighting the Devil is one thing, but dying as a girl or recently nearing dying as an old man, was not how Dean had intended or even hoped to die. Fighting like her father did and not helpless.

Suddenly a hand grabbed the biker's arm holding Dean's. An arm that was clothed in a tan trench coat. Castiel. Dean was saved.

The biker turned to punch Castiel in the face and Dean smirked, watching as the man punched Castiel in the face and broke his fist in the process. Castiel didn't even blink. Instead, Castiel's frown deepened and he wretched the biker's grip away from Dean and threw him a good six feet away. The biker quickly got up, clutching his broken fist in his other hand and growled at Castiel. The man charged at Castiel, attempting to tackle Castiel to the ground. Castiel scowled in anger and kicked the man straight in the gut the moment he got close enough. The man was sent flying backwards and crashed into a pick-up truck's windscreen over ten feet away. Dean blinked and suddenly Castiel was ten feet away, standing by the biker who was moaning in pain on the broken windscreen of the pick-up. Castiel grabbed the man by his shirt and pulled him up to Castiel's face with one arm. The man looked up at Castiel with fear in his eyes and blood leaking from his nose and mouth.

"If you so dare as attempt to harm another woman in such a vile manner, I shall personally ensure that you will never be mobile with your own limbs again." With that, Castiel dropped the man back onto the windscreen of the pick-up truck and made his way back to Dean, a scowl still set deep in his features.

Dean allowed herself to sink to the ground to take the strain off of her twisted ankles and sighed in relief. The other men who had followed Dean and the biker out of the bar quickly headed to their vehicles with fear in their eyes looking at Castiel. Castiel stopped in front of Dean and glared at the lingering men who all quickly scattered. Within minutes, the parking lot was empty aside from Dean, Castiel, and the Impala.

Castiel pulled off his trench coat awkwardly and with some difficulty. He took the trench coat and draped it around Dean before helping Dean stand on her uninjured foot. Dean leaned into Castiel and grabbed a hold of Castiel's suit jacket to steady herself as she tested the weight on her foot. Both were silent for a few minutes as Dean held onto Castiel and Castiel held his hands awkwardly by his side. Castiel broke the silence first. "That was stupid Dean."

Dean snorted out a self-depreciating laugh before dropping her forehead onto Castie's chest. Even in heels, Castiel was nearly a head taller than Dean now. "Cas, help me out of these boots. My ankle's starting to swell and I really don't want to try cutting these damn things off when it's the size of a watermelon."

Without a word, Castiel took a step back and leaned down to Dean's foot, sliding the zipper of the boot down slowly. Dean clutched Castiel's shoulder as she balanced on her one good leg wobbly and sighed at her helplessness. Without a doubt, Jo and Ellen were some kick-arse women and are able to defend themselves against demons and other monsters with relative ease. In heels none the less. No wonder women were always talking about the power of high-heels. Dean as a girl definitely could not even match those two women in terms of combat as tonight clearly demonstrated. Castiel's voice broke through Dean's chain of thoughts and she looked down at Castiel in inquiry. Castiel looked up at Dean and Dean belatedly realised Castiel was getting an eye full of her pink, lacy, satin panties.

Castiel however did not seem to notice and was instead focusing his attention on Dean face. "I will have to tear your boots. The zipper is jammed." Dean nodded her acquiesce and watched, slightly impressed, as Castiel ripped the pleather boot in half as though it was paper, freeing her swelling ankle. Dean started to feel warm and fuzzy inside. Damn women's hormones.

"Hey Cas, could you take off my other boot. It's kind of weird walking around in one shoe that's so high." Castiel nodded and slid the zipper down on her good leg. Dean leaned into Castiel and wrapped her arms around Castiel's hunched shoulders to lift herself up. Castiel steadied Dean by wrapping an arm around Dean's thighs and lifted her up, pulling off the other boot in the process before gently setting Dean down on the ground on her good leg. Dean pulled Castiel's trench coat around her tighter and stood awkwardly on one foot with Castiel standing well within her personal space. Dean shifted guiltily with Castiel peering down at her.

"Do you wish to go to the Impala?" Dean looked up at Castiel who motioned to the Impala.

Dean grimaced as she looked down at her injured foot. "Well I don't think I can drive tonight with my right ankle twisted. Although I could just drive with the left one. Here, help me there." Dean pulled her arms through the trench coat sleeves and wrapped her arms around Castiel's neck as he lifted her in a bridal hold. In the meanwhile, Dean reached into the pockets of her tight dress and pulled out the key to the Impala, putting it in the door lock as Castiel leaned down to allow Dean access. After some difficult manoeuvring, Castiel had somehow set Dean down in the driver's seat without injuring her ankle more or banging her head on the door frame. Dean slammed shut the door, careful to not slam it on Castiel's trench coat and turned expectedly to the passenger seat. As expected, Castiel was in the passenger seat and starring out the windscreen with a stoic expression on his face. Dean sighed as she turned on the ignition. "Thanks for saving me again Cas. Did...did you hear me?"

Castiel nodded silently as Dean gracelessly drove the Impala out of the parking lot. It was times like this that Dean hated the fact that she drove clutch. "I do not believe you are in danger of being located right now by the other angels since your soul is slightly different. It is only because I saw you before that I could recognise your soul calling to me."

Dean gave Castiel a half smile. "So...are you going to tell Sam and Bobby what happened?"

"That is your own judgement to do. But I will say you were being reckless. Your brother told me of your attempts to act in the manner Tiresias had. I have told you I am not here to perch on your shoulder, and therefore I shall refrain commenting upon your coquettish behaviour."

Dean blinked at Castiel before turning into a gas station several minutes away from the bar. "And you need to stop hanging out with Sam so much. What are you two, trading vocab words to use against me?" Castiel cocked his head in confusion in which Dean let out a very feminine giggle. One that Dean will vehemently deny ever happened when questioned upon later. "Damn, Cas you gotta stop doing that."

"Well clearly your repertoire of vocabulary words is limited to expletives."

Dean giggled again [and again, that never happened] before parking the Impala behind the gas station. After struggling with the pocket of her tight dress, Dean pulled out a twenty and passed it to Castiel. "Do me a favour and buy an ice pack will you? I need to get some ice on my ankle before it swells too much." Dean paused and hesitated. "And...zap me into the back seat. I'm done driving. I'll deal with not being able to poop when I'm a man again."

Castiel reached for Dean's forehead with two fingers before pausing. "I could take you back to Bobby's—"

"Hell no, and leave my baby? Not to mention let Sam see me like this! Get the ice and put me in the—" Castiel touched Dean's forehead and disappeared from the passenger seat. Dean blinked and was seated across the back seat behind the driver's seat with her injured leg stretched out on the back seat. Dean reached down and rubbed her swelling ankles before digging out her cellphone from her dress pocket. After sending Sam a text that she won't be back tonight, Dean threw the cellphone into the driver's seat and rested her head against the cool window. Dean decided being a girl was hard. Dean wasn't sure how real girls actually did it. But she definitely appreciated the female body and demonstrated as such by groping her own breasts.

Castiel's cough and stammer interrupted Dean. She looked up at Castiel who was once again seated in the passenger seat with a small blush across his cheeks. Castiel handed Dean the twenty and an ice pack wrapped in a cloth, who then placed it over her ankle. Dean raised an eyebrow and held up the twenty. "Geez, I didn't think you had it in you to steal Cas."

"I didn't. I borrowed it from Bobby's freezer." Castiel turned around in the seat to face the front and leaned his head back on the seat. "Do you intend to stay here tonight?"

"Yeah. Figured out how to break this curse yet?"

"No. The curse on the mayor was easy to fix. A mere human transmogrification. Sam's sexually transmitted infection was easy to remove as well. A mere child's play in witchcraft. Yours however is slightly more difficult."

Dean shifted in the seat and pulled Castiel's trench coat tighter around herself to fight off the chill that came with the ice pack. "How so?"

Castiel sighed before turning around to face Dean again. "The spell the witch used on you is more complex and incomplete. You killed the witch before she could finish the spell and burnt her Grimoire so I do not know which specific spell was used. Furthermore, it is clearly a blood spell since her blood was able to enter your body."

"You say the spell was incomplete, but when I checked this body, it was definitely 100%, completely woman."

Castiel gave Dean a small half smile. "Yes, I assume it is. But I mean the spell's purpose was not intended to turn you into a woman. The spell was intended to be far more sinister. Maybe a killing spell, or an age reversal spell. I don't know. And that is what makes it difficult reversing."

"Great." Dean shifted and rested her head against the back seat instead of the cool windows.

"Do you feel anything different?"

"Aside from the fact that I'm a smoking hot chick, not really. I'm going to sleep; you going to stay Cas?" Castiel nodded before turning back to face the windscreen. Dean closed her eyes and winced in pain when she moved her ankle. Dean gritted her teeth and shivered from the cold of the ice pack and the chill of the night.

Suddenly, instead of sitting on the leather backseat of the Impala, she was sitting on someone's lap. Castiel's too be exact. "The fuck, Cas?"

Castiel wrapped one arm around Dean's shoulder and pulled her against his chest so that she was resting her head against Castiel's clavicle. "You're cold."

Dean shifted in Castiel's lap so that her right arm wasn't trapped between her and Castiel's body. "This better not be an attempt to get into my panties."

"If you are implying that I wish to have intercourse with you, I don't." Castiel rested his right hand over Dean's thighs, holding his own trench coat closed over her exposed thighs.

Dean chuckled [rather manly compared to her giggles earlier]. "No you probably don't. Last time I took you to a whore house, man you freaked. Funniest thing I've ever seen. But you know...I wouldn't mind too much if you did decide that you wanted to have sex with me. Hell, I went out intending to get laid tonight."

"I assure you Dean, I have no intentions of changing my mind."

"Prude."

"Yes, and?"

"Shut up and let me go to sleep." And with that Castiel fell silent and held Dean to his body as Dean allowed herself to relax, despite the biting cold and pain on her ankle, and fell asleep for the first time in Dean's life, in another man's arm.

When the morning rays were getting too bright to ignore, Dean opened her eyes and looked up at Castiel. Castiel was looking out the window over Dean's injured ankle and aimlessly rubbing Dean's shoulder with his thumb. Dean looked down and yes, Dean was still a she. Somehow, Dean was hoping she would magically return to normal over night, but that obviously didn't work out. But that does mean she could possibly still get laid...then again, after last night's fiasco, maybe not.

"Dean?"

Dean returned her gaze upward to Castiel. "Ahh, well if it isn't prince charming? So did you pull a Sleeping Beauty or Snow White on me?" Castiel's response was his usual confused head tilt and Dean allowed a girlish giggle to escape her mouth, knowing Castiel would never mention it to Sam. Dean smacked her lips together, grimacing at her morning breath before moving down to examine her ankle.

Dean's ankle had swelled up only slightly and was painful to the touch. The ice pack was discarded sometime over the night, probably by Castiel, and the cloth that had wrapped the ice pack was instead wrapped tightly around Dean's ankle. Again, probably by Castiel. Dean started giggling again [very manly] and leaned her head back down on Castiel's clavicle. "You're an angel."

"Yes, I am. Maybe we should return to Bobby's now."

Dean smiled at Castiel lazily before leaning up and wrapping both arms around Castiel's neck. Later on when asked why Dean did what he—she was about to do, Dean would blame the female hormones running through her [normally his] very female body. Regardless, Castiel looked down at Dean with his brows drawn in confusion as he held Dean in his arm and Dean leaned up and pressed a kiss to Castiel's scruffy cheek. Castiel turned his head to face Dean, who then changed course and pressed a kiss to Castiel's chapped lips. It was a very tender kiss; chaste, and pure despite Dean's current visage. Castiel had initially froze, but reciprocated chastely, eyes wide open and meeting Dean's eyes, which were alight with amusement. Dean gently sucked on Castiel's lower lip, smiling and grinning to herself. She may not get laid, but she'll settle for this. Finally with the need to breath, Dean pulled away from Castiel as she gasped for breath, her voluptuous bust brushing against Castiel's chest. Castiel still held onto Dean awkwardly, arms seemingly uncertain as to where it should be placed. Dean smiled again [rather girlishly, but later Dean will vehemently deny it] and leaned up to kiss Castiel again—

It was literally like those corny magical acts, where one moment the stage is empty and the next moment with a burst of smoke, the magician stood in the middle of the stage, coughing surrounded by smoke. In Dean's case, he was about an inch away from kissing Castiel again when suddenly smoke seemed to blow up from everywhere surrounding Dean. Dean felt his body get constricted to the point where the sound of torn clothing was evident and felt the pain in his leg abruptly vanish. Dean coughed and used both hands to fan the smoke away from his face. After a minute the smoke slowly cleared out the door opened by Castiel, revealing a very male Dean sitting on Castiel's lap, wearing nothing but lacy, pink, satin panties, a torn in half red admitted-hooker dress, and a tan trench coat. Only one words describes such a situation. Awkward.

Dean groaned in embarrassment and felt his ears turn red. He looked tentatively down at Castiel who merely looked confused and thoughtful. "Okay say it Cas, just say it."

Castiel tilted his head sideways in his usual confused manner. "I'm not sure what to say. I'm not entirely certain how the curse has been broken. I once again am unable to sense you, so your body is undoubtedly your own."

Dean rolled his eyes, wondering if Castiel was deliberately ignoring the fact that Dean was sitting pretty much naked in torn and borrowed clothes on his lap, or if the angel was truly immune to all things socially awkward. "Well, then," started Dean as he moved off of Castiel's lap onto the backseat. "This never happened."

"What never happened?" Castiel cast Dean a sly glance, the same sly glance he gave Dean when he told him the true nature of archangels and prophets.

Yep, undoubtedly the former. "Sneaky bastard."

After somehow making it back to Bobby's with Dean's dignity and clothes somewhat intact and normal again [and after hiding those lacy, pink, satin panties], Dean and Castiel finally entered the study to Sam's and Bobby's surprise.

Sam smiled at Castiel. "Looks like you finally did figure out how to break that curse."

Stoic as usual, Castiel answered, "No, I was not able to figure out how to break the curse."

Bobby and Sam exchanged confused looks. "Then how—"

Dean and Castiel exchanged looks before the angel disappeared in a soft gust and the sound of flapping wings. Dean shrugged at Castiel's empty spot. "Look at that, Cas finally learned how to lie." About which lie, Dean wasn't going to tell Sam. Nor would anyone ever need to know what happened the one night Dean Winchester turned into a girl. Now all he had to do was threaten to kill Chuck so that he will not write this into his "Winchester Gospels." Dean didn't think his manly pride would survive if he read from Chuck's book the fact that he enjoyed kissing Castiel. But he never did find out if having sex as a woman or man was better.

Oh the joys of pure and utter crack. So yeah, Dean/Castiel without slash...that was interesting to write. Anyway, there are quite a number of notes on this one-shot. First Tiresias is a character from Greek mythology who was originally a man, a priest if I remember correctly, who was turned into a woman by hitting a pair of snakes mating with a stick. Tiresias as a woman, married and had kids until years later, he hit a pair of snakes mating with a stick again and was turned back into a man. Zeus and Hera then asked him who felt more pleasure when having sex, the man or the woman. Tiresias said the woman had it better and I think Hera blinded him since she didn't like the answer or something like that. Hence the title of this one-shot. But I wanted to keep it rated T, so no sex for girl!Dean. Haha, too bad huh?

Now on a more serious note. I have nothing against the mayor of NYC (honestly don't even know who it is since I don't live anywhere near there), The New York Times, etc., but I do have a problem with how there are some men who abuse women (men, don't do it please). Dean, on Supernatural doesn't abuse women, but I do dislike the whole take Castiel to the whore house bit. It was hilarious, undoubtedly and one of my favourite scenes in season five, but I still dislike the idea of it. Which is why I had to write that little bit where Dean has a greater appreciation for the women he sleeps with on occasion. And the power of high-heels. And Supernatural itself doesn't seem to like their women characters too much either but I guess that's our faults huh? :p Now girl!Dean I made short (5'4"), but as far as anyone's concerned, she is still Dean and therefore a BAMF. Who just can't fight in heels. Literally, Sam would be a little over a foot taller than her. And you got to love BAMF Cas. Well at least I do, hence Cas to the rescue!

Supernatural seems to love giving Sam STD's, so I had to give him one too. XP And I believe the politically correct term nowadays is STI for sexually transmitted infection, but most people I hear don't use that term, even health professionals. But Cas is politically correct so he'll of course be the only who uses that term. Oh an recognise those panties? The ones that Dean secretly likes?

After Sam has the rock salt removed from his wounds, he gets a debridement from Dean. A debridement for that kind of wound would be where you literally take a bristled brush and with some hot water and antiseptic and literally scrub the wound to remove dirt and rock salt. Very painful. Other types of debridements used for serious injuries include surgically removing the tissue or maggots.

Hope you enjoyed my crazy crack and girl!Dean, and this turned out to be far longer than I intended (13 pages). Oh well, it was fun.

-Sailor Moonac