Be My Valentine

(co-written with Fetish)


"Hurry up, Sam, it's not like you're going on a date," Dean shouted, looking at the computer screen and hitting 'replay' on the youtube vid. "Damn...." Until now, he hadn't known wincing and laughing were compatible. "Seriously dude, I need a drink."

Sam huffed at his reflection in the mirror as he set his cologne bottle down on the counter. With one last look in the mirror, he it the bathroom light switch and walked out into the room. "You know, I might not be going on a date, but aren’t you the one who is always telling me I need to keep an eye out for prospective dates or whatever?" Sam asked him as he walked over to where Dean was sitting. "I wanted to look decent." he frowned, looking from Dean to the laptop, "What are you watching?"

Dean snorted. "Best thing I've seen in a long time." He glanced over. "If you're really looking for a date, forget the cologne and just talk to the next chick that smiles at you. Tomorrow’s Valentines Day... a lot of them will be primed and pumped... waiting to be asked out." He gave a half shrug, "just saying, it might help."

Sam frowned at his brother, but didn't say anything about his 'helpful advice', instead he turned his attention to the computer screen. "Best thing you've seen? Dude, are you watching porn again, ON MY LAPTOP?"

"It's not porn. Told you..." he pointed at the You Tube address (GO HERE TO SEE WHAT DEAN IS WATCHING: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sA26_P65l5g ) at the top of the screen. "See, nice, clean fun. Mesmerizing, isn't it?" He gave an open-mouthed laugh at the look that started to cross Sammy's features.

"Dude," Sam swallowed as he watched in wide eyed shock, before tearing his gaze away to look at his brother, "that's just not natural." Sam told him, shaking his head as he made a face.

Getting up, Dean got his jacket and grinned at his brother. "I'm gonna look for someone just like her for you. She might knock some sense into you."

Sam grimaced making a sickened face, "Dude! You... you WOULDN'T!" Sam gave a visable shudder as he grabbed his jacket.

"Yeah Sam, I wouldn't." Winking, Dean disappeared out the door, more laughter bubbling out of him. Sam's face... it was just so damned expressive. He wondered if the vid would give him nightmares.

He waited for his brother to get in the car, the started to back out of the stall in front of their room. "You sure this town only has one bar? I mean a place called 'The Watering Hole,' how much imagination does the owner have to have?" Really, all he wanted was a couple of beers. They'd come off a hunt and needed to wind down.

"Dude, I dunno. That's what the booklet in the room said, you were hoggin' my laptop for your freak show." Sam told him, again making a face. "That's just unnatural, you know. I mean, how can you watch that?"

Dean stole a glance at him. "You know, there's one with beer cans instead of watermellons..."

Sam looked at him, eyes wide before he frowned, making a sickened face. "That's....just...." Sam shuddered and looked back out the window. "I think you just ruined sex for me for a while," he mumbled.

"Now you have an excuse." Turning the dial, he raised the volume and started to tap out a beat on the steering wheel. His brother looked so damned serious, it made him want to laugh again. But if he really thought about it, he was kinda grateful that Sam wasn't a slut, and it wasn't just because one slut in a family was enough. But he wasn't going to think on that. Like always, he'd shove that down so deep, it would be like it didn't exist. He let out a light breath and looked over at Sam again.

Sam glanced at his brother, frowning. 'Now he had an excuse'. He huffed and looked away. He had a lot of reasons why he wasnt like Dean. Why he didn't sleep with every girl who looked his way. One, he was cursed. Two, he wasn't like that even if he wasn't 'cursed'. Three, uh, did Dean not remember Jess? And four... no, four he never thought about, four was just some odd older brother worship. THAT was what four was.
Slouching down in the seat, Sam clenched his jaw and looked out the window. Sometimes Dean was SO not funny.

Dean's eyebrows quirked at the strangely unreadable expression on Sam's face, but he decided to put it down to irritation.

Ten minutes later, they were parked outside the bar, which was a stand alone building. "Huh. Looks more like a club," he said, opening the door.

Sam grumbled under his breath, but didn't really respond to Dean's observation as he opened his door and pulled from the car. Closing the door, behind him, Sam glanced over at his brother and quirked a brow, "You still wanna go in?" Sam wasn't always so thrilled with Dean's bar hopping obsession. He would have been just fine with grabbing a six pack from a mini-mart and going back to the room. Watching TV. After all, what the hell did a bar have that he was interested in? Definitely not the cheap bar sluts his brother was always picking up.

"Yeah, sure. Could do with a brewsky, and so could you," he slapped Sam on the back. "Come on, let’s get a smile on that face before you manage to scare all the women away."

Sam glared before walking into the bar with his brother.

There was a man at the door actually checking ID's and Sam had to make sure NOT to grab the one that said 'Bikini Inspector' on it. He huffed at the memory of Dean giving him that one to actually use on a case. Idiot.

Once they were inside, the place was obviously bigger than it appeared from outside and had a stage at the font of the main room. Tables lined the area around the stage, and farther back, there was a dance floor that was sectioned off. He guessed Dean was right, it was a sort of club after all. However, tonight, there wasn't a DJ, at least not right then there wasn't, it seemed that they were having some kind of show. The stage was well lit and there were small posters advertising a hypnotist and a few other acts to be performed.

"Huh." Sam nodded toward the stage, "well, at least they aren't dancing tonight."

Dean nodded in acknowledgment, making a face at the posters as they sat down. "You believe that shit? People will fall for anything." He waved the bar tender over and ordered two beers and tried not to laugh as the guy tried to convince them this show was for real. "Right..." He waited a beat, then looked at Sam again. "If it did work, don't you think bank robbers and everyone who wanted anything would be using it to get what they wanted?"

Sam shrugged as he looked toward the stage. "Meh, of course it's fake, but where's your sense of adventure? You know, make believe." Sam told him, as he looked back at him with a grin. "Well, that or if Andy was still around, he could maybe take your car again." Sam snickered, trying to stifle his laugh.

"Shut up." Dean glared at the reminder. "That wasn't hypnotism. You fuckin’ laughing at me?" He punched Sam's arm, and picked up his drink. The thought of that ass manhandling his car still made the blood pound at his temples. The part where he turned his baby over to Andy so willingly, that part was off limits ... he pretended not to remember that at all.

Sam laughed, glaring slightly as he rubbed his arm where Dean had punched him. "Ow, jerk," he snickered, "Sure, Andy, you can have my car." he mimicked what he figured had happened in a high pitched voice, teasing Dean further, before reaching for his own drink.

"Bitch." Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he turned around in his stool, looking over the place and the people in it. In case you forgot it was almost Valentines, there were huge pink hearts on the walls and something about a romantic evening with some band for a low cover price. "Good thing there's no murderous pagan St. Valentine's God, Christmas was bad enough. Can you imagine a place with pink and red hearts, white... what do you call that shit..." he pointed at the white papers under some peoples' cocktails. "Frilly things..."


Sam looked over toward where Dean pointed, then back at his brother and quirked a brow, "Lace?"

"Yeah, that. Though... french maid uniform or something like that could make it worth my while." He was silent for a beat, lifting his bottle up to suck down some more beer. "You ever do that... you know at school, where you could send someone a carnation on valentines?"

Sam eyed his brother for a moment as he took a long pull from his beer bottle, before he pulled the bottle away and shook his head then shrugged, "Meh, I sent one to that girl, Rebecca Gauss, when we were in high school." he quirked a brow at Dean, "You remember her, I was suppose to take her to prom my Sophmore year." He shrugged and shook his head, looking down at the table, "I never...well, no, I got one once." he confided, "It never said who it was though."

"Anonymous," Dean nodded. "I sent one out like that, anonymous. Once." He looked away. Yeah he'd received a lot of them, so many that he'd tossed them so he wouldn't become some sort of class joke, but he'd sent just the one, ever. And it had been after he was out of school.

Sam quirked a brow at his brother, "You did? Who was she?" Sam asked him as he picked up his beer and leaned back in his seat.

"Always one that gets away," he answered. And sometimes it was for the best. "Oh God... they're actually going to play horseshoe throwing with hearts?" He winced harder than Sammy had winced watching the youtube vid, then turned away from the stage. "Maybe we should get as liquored up as we can so we can enjoy this show. Yo, a couple of kamikazes for us, please."


Sam chuckled and shook his head at his brother. "It's not that horrible..." he glanced back at the stage and frowned before looking at Dean again, "Yeah, okay, maybe it is." He looked up at the waiter, "And a long island ice tea." he added before looking back at his brother, "I think I need to be really hammered."

Dean gave a nod. The nasal voice of the organizer of the horseshoe contest was already getting on his nerves and she'd only said a couple of words so far. If he didn't have something to make her voice fuzzy, he just might say something that could get them thrown out, or there could be an attempted throw out. In either case, Sam would bitch at him, and he wasn't in the mood for that either.

Their drinks were lined up, but he had to shake his head at Sam's choice. "Do I even need to say girly?" He looked pointedly at the little umbrella.

Sam frowned at his brother as he plucked the little umbrella out of his drink and tossed it on the table. "There, ya happy?" he huffed and shook his head. "Besides, it's the most feminine thing we have near us this Valentines day," e muttered looking back toward the stage.

"Speak for yourself," Dean knocked back his first shot, then looked over at Sam. "This time tomorrow... I'd better be getting some lip action." Sure, he got that it wasn't real... that any woman who spent the night in his arms wouldn't really be his 'valentine,' but it beat being alone and maybe thinking about things he had no business thinking about. He'd had a lot less trouble keeping his mind off that before he'd died, but he'd find a way to get back to that mental state again. He had to.

Sam played with the condensation on the side of his glass, "I'm sure you will," said, frowning, before he licked his lips and looked back toward the stage.

"Yeah." But the usual triumph was missing from Dean's voice and demeanor and he dragged his gaze away the minute Sam's tongue darted out. Right, the blonde sitting in front of the stage wasn't half bad, and she was giving him the look. Nah, he wasn't abandoning Sam tonight. Tonight he was hanging with his bro and getting hammered, that was the deal.


The horseshoe game came to a close with the winner getting free drinks for the following night, for themselves and their Valentine. The main show started afterward with, of all things, some chick who could swallow swords and flames. The announcers sly comments about her being one hot date won him laughter from everyone it seemed but he and Dean as Sam looked back at his brother and nodded his head toward the stage, "There ya go. Your date. She obviously has..." Sam cleared his throat, looking down at his glass again, "talent."

"Sam, so crude," he shook his head, lacing some mock surprise in his tone as he watched the performance. "You're right about one thing... I wouldn't need to wear a 'choking hazard' sign over my zipper." Spewing his own drink, he wiped his mouth and ordered more.

Sam huffed and rolled his eyes. Sure, Dean was the one watching some woman crush watermelon with her boobs and yet he was crude for saying what the announcer was implying. Yeah, sure, whatever. He shook his head and downed the rest of his drink, agreeing that they needed more as Dean ordered his.

Sam looked back at his brother, "What about after school? Ever send a Valentine or get one after school?" he shrugged, "You know, the heart boxes with candy, flowers and all that."

"Huh?" He was feeling a little fuzzy so it took him a while to connect up the earlier conversation with this. "No. I never did that." Because that would have meant pretending he felt something more than he did for someone. He grabbed some peanuts out of the bowl and stuffed his mouth. "Did help you write them for your entire class though. And you had to glue those... those frilly... lace things on all of them. See... total girl." Laughing, he cocked his head. "You? Send any?"

Sam shrugged, ignoring the 'girl' comment. "I set up a Valentine thing for Jess once." he sighed and glanced at the stage, then looked back down at the table, "I put out a bunch of candles and got her some candy," Sam raised a fisted hand to his mouth and coughed into it as he said 'stole', "some roses," he looked up at his brother, "sprinkled the bed with the petals." he shrugged.

"Yeah?" A bitter sweet ache bloomed in Dean's belly. "I'm sure she loved it," he nodded, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Sounds very romantic." The usual jokes were missing, but he didn't joke about Jess... Sam's Jess. He was glad his brother had found love, even if their time together had been cut short.

Sam shrugged, looked back at the stage and didn't say anymore about it. After a few moments he looked back at Dean and licked his lips, quirking a brow, "No one? Really?"

Dean just looked at him. It was enough.

The clapping drew his attention back to the stage. Groaning as the hypnotist was introduced, he motioned for the bar tender. "Keep 'em coming." Since the guy didn't move, he dropped some money on the bar. The guy must think they were out to stiff him or something. Taking a breath, he listened to the hypnotherapist explain that most people were susceptible to hypnotism, but that there was a small percentage of the population that was resistant to it.

He laughed out loud. "Yeah, those with a brain. Seriously, who do they think they're fooling, here?"

The therapist walked down the stairs and headed for the bar, pointing at Dean.

Sam slumped down in his seat more, trying to hide himself away. Oh hell...

"Me? What?" Dean raised his chin. If she thought he was sorry for what he said, she had another thought coming.

"Yeah, you. What's your name?"

"Alex Smith, I'm a Virgo, I like long walks on the beach, and watching sunsets. I..."

Sam rolled his eyes. Alex Smith my ass. Can you BE a little more original?

She pulled the microphone back. "Okay Alex, you were shaking your head. You think this is a crock, right?"

Dean shrugged and nodded.

"Good, I always look for the skeptics first. So play along, let me try it on you."

Sam's eyes widened and he was fighting to not bust out laughing at his brother. Dean SO deserved this.

"No fucking way," he said, despite the clapping and shouting.

"Go on, man. Do it. If it's a crock, what have ya go to lose?" Sam told him, waving him toward the stage.

"Shut your cake hole, I'm not..."

"I see this all the time," the therapist said, shaking her head. "People claiming this is all a hoax, but then they’re afraid to try."

"I am not afraid."

"Fine, look into my eyes. If it doesn't work, you stay right here at the bar."

Between all the laughter and clapping and Sam's goading, and maybe a touch of the liquor, Dean lifted his eyes and locked them with hers.

"Okay Alex, I want you to relax. When I snap my fingers...."

As she droned on and on, Dean rolled his eyes. How long was he gonna have to take this for before she got that he wasn't gonna play along, wasn't gonna fool all these people.

"Okay, now I want you to get up and follow me to the stage."

Dean slid off the stool and meekly followed her, giving a loopy smile to people who looked like they were soundlessly clapping.
Sam's eyes widened as he laughed drunkenly at his brother, watching him walk toward the stage with the woman like he was her little lapdog. Oh this was just too damn funny. No way!

"Okay, here we are... How're you feeling?" she asked turning him to look at the audience. "You feeling alright."

"Uh huh."

"Good. Take off your right shoe. No, your right one," she instructed, and waited until Dean had it off. "Do you like puppies?"

Dean shrugged.

"You like them a lot. See the cute little puppy? Pick it up and give it some love, you know you want to." She looked at the audience and smirked.

"C'mere. C'mere, you, it's okay." Dean bent down and picked it up, holding it close to his chest as he got up. He kept stroking and whispering to it.

"Awww, it's so cute. Tell us what it's name is."

"Lacey."

"Lacey, huh? Somehow I was expecting to hear 'fangs' from a guy like you," she gave a throaty laugh.

Sam watched eyes wide. Oh god, there was no way Dean would do that. No way. She was good. Damn good. Holy crap. Lacey? Where the hell did he get Lacey?

Sam reached back and grabbed his drink bringing it to his lips as he kept his eyes on his brother and the hypnotist. Damn he wished he had a camera. Dean hugging his boot - that was classic.

"Okay, I think Lacey, needs to be put down now. Easy, put her down easy," the hypnotist told Dean, waiting until he slowly and gently put his boot on the floor.

"Do you like to dance? I bet you're a good dancer, huh?" she asked him, as she flashed the audience a smile.

"Uh uh," Dean shook his head no, and bent over again, to pet the dog and kiss it once. "She's so soft." It broke his heart to leave it on the ground, but he straightened.

Soft? Sam laughed harder, nearly choked on his drink. As his eyes widened. His boot was hard as hell, dirty, and leather There was nothing 'soft' about it.

"I think you're probably a good dancer, you're just shy aren't you? Are you shy, Alex?" she asked him.

Dean nodded. "A little." He clasped his hands in front of him, wringing them over and over as he looked down at them.

"Aww, there's no need to be. It's just you and me here. You like me, don't you?"

"Uh-huh," he nodded without looking at her.

"I'm as soft as Lacey, aren't I?"

Dean shook his head no, and started to bend down again until she stopped him.

"No, Lacey is resting now. I want you to dance now, can you do that for me? Pleeeeeze?"

He nodded dociley.

"What shall he have him sing and dance to?" She asked the crowd.

Sam was laughing so hard tears were rolling down his cheeks, his face a deep shade of red. He couldn't believe she was getting his brother to do those things. And shy? Dean Winchester had never been shy a day in his life that Sam could remember.

He listened as the crowd yelled out different songs, 'Mary had a little lamb', 'Twinkle twinkle little star', and a few others.

Gasping for breath, trying to stop laughing enough to talk, Sam shook his head, "Can't fight this feeling!" he yelled out, thinking of the song he had sung once in the car so long ago, a song he would never admit to singing or be caught dead singing again.

She raised her hands. First she had Dean sing and act out Mary had a little lamb, right down to getting him to cry when she told him the lambs got lost. Patting his arm, she comforted him. "Don't worry, they came back, so now we need to hear you celebrate with a rendition of 'Can't Fight This Feeling, okay? I want it nice and loud. And here..." she handed him his boot, "don't forget the microphone."

Sam couldn't believe what he was seeing. He'd never seen anything so funny in his entire life, and Dean actually crying over sheep...from a song, a children's nursery song? Sam had about fallen off his stool he laughed so hard.


Dean walked to the front of the stage, bent slightly and started to belt out the song like there was no tomorrow.

Oh God, there was nothing she more could make him do that would shock him now, he'd seen everything. Though he was grimacing slightly with the singing Dean was doing. Sure, Sam was used to his off key shouting, cause it really wasn't singing, when they were in the car, but this, this was worse. He wasn't sure if it was te liquor of if it was being hypnotized, but damn Dean was sucking ass.

"Okay, that's enough."

Dean kept going, practically making love to the mike as he sang, putting everything he had into it.

"No really, enough." She snapped her fingers, "1, 2... obey, stop singing." And when he did, she gave the audience a look of relief. "It would have been terrible if he were stuck in that mode for good."

She smiled again. "That was very good, very good. We're almost done here. Do you know what day it is tomorrow?"

He nodded and smiled back. "Valentines."

"Its an important day, isn't it?"

"Uh huh," he shook his head yes.

"Do you have a valentine?"

Dean shook his head no, his face crumbling as the audience went awwwww.

"Is there someone you wish were your valentine?"

He nodded shyly, practically putting his chin against collarbone in an attempt to hide his face.

Sam quirked a brow at his brother, coughing as he tried to stop laughing. He reached for his new drink, having finished off the last one, and took a swallow.

"Really? Who is it?"

He wouldn't answer, but swung his body back and forth.

"Come on, I won't tell anyone, I swear. Who is it." She heard him whisper a name. "Who? Louder." He whispered again. "Tell me again," she said, this time shoving the real microphone next to his mouth.

"Sam." The whisper was like a roar since the audience had gone dead silent.
Sam stopped with his glass half way to his mouth, eyes wide, as he stared at his brother, his heart skipped a beat before righting itself again. The glass, he held, started to slip out of his fingers that had suddenly went numb, but he managed to catch it, the contents still mostly intact, before he looked back up at his brother again and swallowed hard, hazel eyes darting about the room, making sure no one was actually looking at him. Oh God...

"So Sam is very special, huh?"

Dean nodded. "Too special."

"I'll bet. So your..." her gaze went to Sam, "brother, right? He'd be shocked to hear about Sam?"

"Oh yeah, don't tell him, please don't tell him. You can't, you promised, you..."

She put her hand on his shoulder, "don't worry, Samantha is our little secret. One, two, three, wake up," she snapped her fingers.

"... this is really silly, I... ah...." Dean blinked, surprised to find himself on stage. He gave her a wary look, then checked to make sure Sam was still there... if anything weird were going on, Sam would have stopped it.

"Give Alex a hand," she said, as people clapped.

Still unsure what happened, Dean headed down the stairs and rejoined Sam. "Did someone knock me out and get me up there? What the fuck happened?"

Sam watched Dean walk back over to him, wide eyed, only managing to tear his gaze away once his brother was back at his stool. "Uh, nothin'." he mumbled, turning away from him, "You were hypnotized, you went up there," he shrugged and downed his full glass in just a few swallows, before waving over another.

"Huh. I'm thirsty as hell." Taking the bottle of beer, he knocked it back, though he made a face since it had warmed up. "Where's my boot?"

Sam looked back at Dean, or rather down at his foot. "You must have left 'Lacey' up on stage." Sam mumbled gesturing with a thumb toward the stage before looking away again.

"What?" By the time he turned back to the stage, the boot was being passed back. He took it and bent down to put it on. "Do I even wanna know what happened up there?" Looking up, he noticed his brother's strange expression. "Sam?"

Sam shook his head, "No, you probably don't." he said, keeping his eyes averted from Dean's face.
If he didn't look directly at him, if he just kept telling himself it was nothing but the alcohol, then maybe the odd butterfly sensation would go away from his stomach and he wouldn't feel like he had just been sucker punched. Yeah, that was all it was, Dean had said it because he was drunk. He didn't mean it. It wasn't like he really felt that way, or had felt that way. Sam licked his lips and turned to look at Dean, "Who did you send the one Valentine to?"

"Hmm? You mean carnation?" He shook his head, "none of your business, Sam."

"Really? And why is that?" Sam asked him, as he tilted his head to the side, "it was years ago. We aren't around any of the same people we were with then. Who was it?"

The shot glass was freakin' empty. Why was it empty? Dean pushed it aside and found Sam's eyes still on him. "Because it's one of those... I'd have to kill you if I told you kind of things. Like you said, years ago... why do you care?"

Sam shrugged. "Just curious." he told him, taking another long drink from this new glass, only stopping when the glass was nearly empty. Sam was leaning heavily on the bar now, head bowed as he ran a fingertip aroud the rim of his drink. This so can't be right. It had to be something else, someone else. Maybe it was a Samantha.

"Huh." Not wanting to talk about it anymore, Dean picked up a fresh beer, then set it back down. "Maybe we should head back. You look like you're ready for bed and I... I gotta drive." A couple more drinks and he wouldn't be in any shape to do that. "Soon as you knock that back," he said, taking care of their bill.

Sam sighed and raised the glass to his lips, tilting his head back he drank down the rest of the glass in one long gulp, before slamming it back down on the bar. "Yeah, better now."
Sam had managed to talk himself into the fact that it was a Samantha and not him that his brother was talking about. Not that he wouldn't have liked... no he wasn't even going to think like that. Dean wasn't going to ever... no, just no. It was a Samantha. That was all there was to it.

Sliding from his stool and teetering slightly as he did, Sam started toward the door. "So, who is she?" Sam asked him as he leaned back against the door that lead to the street, slowly opening it as he did, walking slowly backward.

At the blank look he got from Dean, Sam rolled his eyes and turned staggering out the door.

"He means Sam, dude." The guy manning the door told Dean after Sam had staggered out. The guy shrugged, "you know, the chick you talked about up there."

"Chick named Sam?" Dean's look remained blank, "no clue what you're talking about. Either of you," shaking his head, he followed Sam out and put an arm around his back. "Steady. I got you. We're almost there," he laughed. "You make a funny drunk."

Sam looked over at his brother and swayed slightly, "Shuddup, jerk." he said, his words sluring slightly.

Reaching the car, Sam climbed in and waited for Dean to go around and open his door. He looked over at him then, "It was a chick right? Sam. The one you were talking about?" Sam asked him quirking a brow.

"Sam, I don't know what you're talking about. You're the only Sam I know, or Sammy," he grinned. "But you're part chick, so... does that answer your question? Maybe you should write it down and ask me again in the morning, when you're making more sense."

Sam looked at him for a long moment, warring with conflicting emotions and unable to make clear sense of much of any of them in his present drunken state. He narrowed his eyes at Dean and nodded, "Yeah," he said, reaching a hand out and grabbing a fistful of the front of Dean's shirt, "question answered." he agreed, just before he leaned over and crushed his lips to Dean's.