Abducted: Part Three (SPN | Dean x Reader )

Chapter 17: Sam I Am

July 2015

"What's that?!" Sam complained before you. Still spewing an American accent from your lips.

Yeah, that was still taking some getting used to. Sam in you and you in him. Although at least you couldn't see yourself, unless you counted the multitude of reflective surfaces that happened to be all over the motel room and your make-up pouch. Why did every damn palette require a mirror? Seriously, why? "It's blush," you replied as you picked up the wide puffy brush you generally used for the compressed powder.

"It's pink!" Sam glared at you through black rimmed eyes. Prior to this you'd applied eye liner. "What happened to not over doing it?"

"It's not pink." Though you had to read the back of the package to see what the brownish hue was actually called to be certain. "It's, dessert rose..." you added.

"Yeah, it has rose in the title. I'm not wearing it!" he retorted.

With a sigh, you put both items down again and took a step back to admire your work instead. It had definitely been harder to apply everything from your newfound perspective, but you were satisfied with how everything had turned out. The lines around the eyes were perfectly thin and even, if only he'd let you add a little bit of colour to the cheeks to compliment the darkness around them. Oh well.

All that was left to do was add mascara to his lashes and that's the sight Dean walked into after changing into his suit in the bathroom. "Well, that's something I never want to see again," he muttered. "You two done?"

"Almost..." you replied as you delicately swooped mascara back and forth over the tiny hairs around Sam's eyes. He was making it difficult by blinking a little too much.

"You know, you should do matching braids. I'm sure Sam's hair is long enough for it."

"Dean, you agreed," you sighed. "You don't have to be an arse about it."

"First of all, it's ass! Not 'arse', okay. Sammy's a red blooded American guy. At least try and do what you did on the phone again!"

Sam piped up with a quiet, "please don't." On which, you and Dean both ignored him.

"And just because I agreed, doesn't mean I have to like it sweetheart," Dean continued. "You were right about one thing though. The sooner we get things back to normal, the better. You two might've switched but my body is really confused right now..."

There he was. The Dean you knew and loved. Even though he was grouchy and reluctant about you and Sam leaving the motel room, he still found ways to unashamedly make jokes.

"You're all set, I just need to give you my bag before we head out." you stated happily to Sam and began packing up your make-up back into the small pouch you kept it in while out on the road.

There was a loud snort from behind you and Sam chuckled awkwardly. "Ah... Is that really necessary?"

"Come on Sammy! I helped her pick out the bag she uses when she's playing FBI. So you know it'll look good on you!"

You took a deep breath to centre yourself over reacting to Dean's latest comment before explaining the one major qualm most women had with their clothes. "There's no pockets on that jacket, they're decoration only..." And you watched on as Sam began padding his fingers over the faux flap on the side of your blazer. "You're also going to need my ID and I'm guessing your gun is too big for my hands..." You trailed off, finally turning back to look at the love of your life who nodded in confirmation. "So, unless you plan on carrying it all out in the open, you're using a handbag today... If it helps, you can use my crossover, it's not as, big..."