Madame Mervin, Hammer of Sues (das_mervin) wrote,
Madame Mervin, Hammer of Sues

TWC: Chapter 6 - Paper Sun

Title: The Wedding Crashers (6/12)
Author: Das Mervin and Mrs. Hyde
Betas: gehayi and kermit_thefrog
Fandom: Twilight/Supernatural
Rating: R for language, themes, violence, and sexual innuendo
Word Count: 6,675
Summary: After two years on her own, and two more as a hunter with Sam and Dean Winchester, Leah thought she’d escaped her old life at La Push. But when she’s called home to attend Jacob and Renesmee’s wedding, she brings a little company, and the stage is set for her old and new lives to collide.
Author’s Note: This is the last Sam chapter. We’d actually intended only one chapter from both the boys, but as you can see, Sam decided he really wanted to talk for twenty-thousand words. But, this is the last from Sam. Enjoy. Chapter title/soundtrack is from the Def Leppard song “Paper Sun.”
Disclaimer: “Supernatural” is the property of Kripke Enterprises and Warner Bros. Television. The Twilight Saga is the property of Stephenie Meyer and Little, Brown and Co. No copyright infringement is intended, and no profit is being made from this work.


Sam stalked furiously amidst the throngs of wedding guests. He didn’t know how much more of this he could take: obnoxious, interfering werewolves or self-satisfied vampires who wanted to take a bite out of him. He forcefully tipped back his glass of champagne, and nearly swore aloud when he realized it was empty again. He was coming to the conclusion that the only safe way to avoid talking to anybody would be to just stare at the ground, looking like an idiot be damned. He glanced back up at the buffet table, where the champagne glistened invitingly, and against his better judgment he started wending in that direction. Unfortunately, as he walked he couldn’t help but overhear the conversations going on in the little clusters of partygoers scattered between himself and the solace of the alcohol.

He grimaced and moved away from the two vampires discussing how wonderful this whole hideous setup was, only to find himself within earshot of two more who were doing nothing but talk about how the bride just was the most amazing and unique person on the planet. He picked up his pace, hurrying by the group blathering on about the Cullens and what generous people they were, and nearly vomited into a nearby flowerpot when they starting marveling over how their style and class only seemed to increase with each passing year. It was only by sheer force of will that he didn’t hurl his champagne glass at the back of Eleazar’s head when he saw him again; he had accumulated a circle of vampires as his audience and was doing nothing but rant and rave about the sulfur-smelling human with the amazing potential.

Sam eyed Castiel, sitting quietly and calmly in his nice, safe little monster-free zone, and was seriously contemplating joining him just to get away from all of this unmitigated bullshit. But he didn’t, instead steeling himself once again and weaving through all these pretentious dickwads to get somewhere out of the way, trying (and failing) not to hear the snippets of talk all around him.

“Yes, they bought this dress for me—Ambroise Lemaître, a new designer from Paris, and not cheap—”

“—the way they have everything arranged, it is truly amazing. I can tell the humans have never seen anything like it—”

“—saw Bella before she had to go help her daughter with her dress. The diamonds she has on are truly stunning—”

“—and Leah was pretending like she didn’t know what I was talking about. It was a complete joke.”

Sam stopped dead. He recognized the voice—and the tone—and he couldn’t help but listen in, turning and focusing on the small group of Native Americans, two of whom he already knew: Jared and Kim.

It was Jared who had spoken, and the big beefy man next to him who was obviously another wolf gave a scornful laugh. The woman clinging to his arm pursed her lips. “It’s not funny, Paul,” she scolded and then turned to Kim, saying, “Kim—didn’t you say he didn’t know at all?”

Kim nodded energetically. “He obviously didn’t even know about Sam and Emily until today,” she said, clearly relishing sharing these juicy tidbits of information. “And he only found out about them when they were introduced! I can’t imagine what Sam must’ve gone through—our Sam. But that Winchester boy, he’s insists that he’s been keeping himself and Leah as ‘just friends’,” she explained, sounding skeptical.

Jared took up the train of conversation, and the disdain dripping from his voice set Sam’s to grinding his teeth. “Wonder how long that will last. I saw Leah when she first came in before Alice took her off—she was hanging all over him.”

Sam could only boggle at the hypocrisy as the other woman, the one who was all but attached to the man she was with, frowned. “But wasn’t she also holding his brother’s arm?”

The man, Paul, sneered, “I guess she figures if she can’t have another Sam, she’ll just make do with the brother or something.”

“Then who’s the other weirdo she came in with? Plan C?” Jared chimed in. All four of them looked behind them, scowling in unison at Cas. As if feeling their eyes on him (which he probably did), his head slowly turned in their direction—and they all hurriedly looked away.

Kim cleared her throat in the ensuing pause. “Well…she has been living with them for two years now, so you might be more right than we think,” she said reluctantly.

The other woman seemed to do a double-take. “Are you serious, Kim? All three of them?

Kim nodded. “That’s what Emily told me, anyway,” she replied. “Leah got all defensive she brought it up, and you know how she is when you call attention to what she’s doing when she knows it’s wrong. And they’re also the ones that bought her clothes for her, so it must be more serious than the Winchesters think.” She shook her head sadly. “Poor Sam—our Sam, I mean. It’s just…he’s so tired of this, and Leah can’t see how much it hurts him when she does things like this. Why does he put up with it?”

“Sam never stepped on her hard enough when he was her Alpha,” Jared growled. “He was way too lenient with her—and still is.”

Paul started back up. “I told him to talk with Jacob about it, he’s the only one who can keep her in line, but he—”

Kim suddenly coughed very loudly, drawing all attention to herself so that they could see that she was staring nervously right at Sam; she’d finally noticed him, standing to the side and glaring daggers at the lot of them. They all turned, spotting him instantly. For a single moment, they all just looked at each other, Sam making a very nice list of all the ways he would dearly love to kick all of their asses (including the women, chivalry could just go to hell), and then they very deliberately turned away, moving a bit closer to one another, closing ranks and resuming their conversation in whispers as if he wasn’t even there.

Sam just stared at them for a moment, then looked down into his empty champagne glass. Screw it, he thought firmly, turning on his heel and all but stomping in the direction of the buffet table. He’d intended to stop at two—drinking too much in a den of monsters was idiotic, he needed to stay sharp—but there was no way he was going to make it through this without a third glass (and maybe even a fourth, if he could get away with it).

He was nearly there when, as he walked by one of the louder bunches, one of the men there ducked out of the group with a sudden step backwards and walked right into Sam’s path. He barely managed to dodge, and the person in question glanced up at him in surprise.

This one wasn’t exactly a man; he had the tall, muscular build that identified him as a wolf, but his face was clearly marked with the vestiges of teenage youth, and he was much shorter and lankier than all the others he’d seen. His eyebrows lifted in surprise at the sight of Sam eyeing him from above.

“Oh—sorry ‘bout that! What’s your name?” he asked without preamble, his voice eager and energetic.

“Sam Winchester,” he replied coldly, not bothering to put on any semblance of politesse.

“I’m Seth!” the kid said back. “What’re you doing here—somebody bring you?”

“Leah Clearwater invited me,” Sam repeated wearily, flicking a brief but longing look at the bubbling fountain of sweet booze just a few yards away.

“Leah?” Seth said, his incredulity snapping Sam’s attention back to him, and he braced himself for some new fresh hell. “She’s my sister!”

Sam blinked for a moment at Seth, and then nodded, holding out his hand, saying “Oh, yeah—Leah mentioned you a few times.”

Seth nearly shook his arm out of its socket. “Funny—she never mentioned you,” he said curiously.

“I can’t imagine why,” Sam said flatly.

“Neither can I!” Seth burbled, Sam’s tone quite as lost on him as it seemed to be on every one of these asshats. His face-splitting grin still in place, he asked, “You having a good time?”

Sam opened his mouth to answer, but Seth didn’t seem to really want one, instead talking right over him while gesturing to the crowd. “Man, I bet you never guessed that Leah would have relatives like this!”

“Believe me,” Sam said in all seriousness, “there is no possible way I could have even imagined it.”

“I don’t get it!” Seth went on as if he hadn’t heard Sam. “Leah ran off and left all this behind? I mean, Jacob’s the best Alpha anyone could ask for! Doesn’t hover, pretty lenient on orders, always sticks up for what’s right—and he’s best friends with all the Cullens! All that crap about how we’re supposed to be vampires’ mortal enemies is so stupid, but Jacob doesn’t let all that prejudice get in his way! I mean, why would we want to be enemies with these people? Edward is really one of the coolest guys I know—he let me drive his Aston Martin once! Bet you didn’t even know you could buy those in this country, eh?”


“Jake’s already promised that when he’s married, he’ll buy me a Corvette ZR1 for being his groomsman! Can you believe that?! I know he and Nessie wanted to give all the bridesmaids and groomsmen presents, since it’s tradition and all, but neither of them really wanted to do just the normal stuff—I mean, why should they? It’s not like money will a problem once he’s part of the family!”

“Well, that’s—”

“Man, I don’t know why Leah wanted to come up here so late and miss out on all the girls doing their stuff—I heard what all the girls got from Nessie, the dresses and makeup and stuff. Leah could probably use some of what they did, anyway. Ugh, I’m sorry—I gotta go, Jake sent me out to find the bridal party. I have to find his dad and Charlie. See you later, and have a good time! Feel free to ask for anything—nothing’s too much for these guys!”

And then he was gone, leaving Sam with his mouth hanging open and his brain still trying to process what had just happened.

What the hell? He’d never heard so much ass-kissing in such a short amount of time in his life—although he guessed the kid managed by taking as few breaths between praises as possible. Not to mention that he was literally squeeing over these vampire scum (the only time he’d ever seen another grown man even approach this level of indignity was when he’d surprised Dean with tickets to a Def Leppard concert). But worst of all was that in that entire monologue, he hadn’t asked about his sister even once, despite the fact that he hadn’t seen her in four years.

Sam quickly resumed his journey to the champagne, privately vowing that if one more of these sorry bastards sidelined him he was going to forego any attempt at manners and pretend they didn’t exist.

Fortunately, he made it to his destination with no problems (finally), detouring around yet another wolf standing by the beer and jamming his glass into the champagne fountain with much more force than was necessary before downing half of it in one gulp. He filled up again, doing his best to keep his angry muttering to a minimum. As he glanced down the table at the food, his stomach beginning to insist that maybe he make himself a plate, a voice spoke up to his right.

“Hey—are you one of the guys who came in with Leah?”

Sam snapped his head around, his eyes narrowed and his mouth tight. It was that same wolf he’d passed on his way. He was just a little taller than Sam was, and he blinked in surprise at the venomous expression on Sam’s face. “Yeah,” Sam replied belligerently, unable to keep himself from crossing his arms tightly over his chest, bracing for a confrontation.

The guy glanced away for a moment. “Are you Dean?” he asked hesitantly.

“No—I’m Sam,” he said, unable to keep the challenge from his voice, daring this dick to just try and say something about it.

This one, however, had no reaction to his name, for good or ill—he just looked very unsure. “Uh—I’m Embry Call,” he mumbled, holding out his hand tentatively. “I’m part of Leah’s pack?”

Sam shook Embry’s hand once, although he felt a bit of the tightness ease from his shoulders. He tried to rearrange his face into something pleasant, as it was obvious that Embry was casting about for something to say, and was somewhat confused by Sam’s outright aggression.

“Um…so, how’s Leah been?” he finally managed. “She doing all right?”

Sam felt his eyebrows raise; this was the first person since Chief Swan who has spoken about Leah in a tone of genuine interest. “She’s fine,” he said, still slightly wary.

“I wanted to catch up with her before the actual wedding started,” Embry continued, sounding a bit more at ease as he kept talking. “But I never saw her—you know where she is?”

“Some vamp named Alice took her off somewhere,” Sam replied.

Embry snorted, but there wasn’t a great deal of humor in it. “That explains it. I didn’t think Jake was serious when he told Alice she’d have to get Leah decent for the wedding,” he said dryly.

Sam’s instinctive anger flared immediately. “She is decent. She told him she’d take care of it, and she did,” he growled.

Embry glanced up, looking a bit surprised but meeting his gaze more firmly this time, and then shrugged as he looked off again. “I’m sure she did. I mean, she’s not an idiot and can take care of herself. But…” He gestured at the crowd. “Well, not only do most of the people here like to nitpick, but they really like to nitpick at Leah.”

Sam stared in silence at Embry for a moment, noting the almost uncomfortable expression on his face as he regarded the rest of the guests, pensively sipping at his beer. He relaxed a little more, and finally said, “Yeah, I‘d gotten that general impression.” Embry snorted again, and Sam looked hard at him; he was looking back at him attentively, his face open, and after a moment of thought Sam went on. “I just can’t figure out why. I’ve been hanging out with Leah for two years—she’s nothing like what these people make her out to be.”

Embry shifted awkwardly. “Well…it’s kinda complicated,” he began, scratching his neck.

“Don’t say it has to do with that imprinting crap,” Sam said warningly.

Embry blew a breath out through his mouth, ruffling the fringe of hair above his forehead. “It kind of does, but not nearly as much as everyone makes it out to be,” he said. “Back when Leah first joined the pack, she…wasn’t exactly the most pleasant person to be around. I’m not saying some of us didn’t deserve the nasty stuff she would sometimes say,” he said hastily, “but man…she has one of the worst tempers I’ve ever seen, and she gets mean when she gets mad,” he explained.

Sam couldn’t help but bounce his eyebrows and nod in agreement—he’d been on the receiving end of Leah’s temper before. Embry wasn’t lying. Leah was the type to let her anger simmer, to tenaciously hold on to her grudges and just seethe until she exploded—and when she did, she went straight for the throat. “So, while we never really made any efforts to make her welcome,” Embry was going on, and Sam could hear the clear note of regret in his tone, “she didn’t make any efforts to try and be welcome, either. It was just a mess.”

“Okay—so it was,” Sam said. “But she’s not like that anymore.”

“No,” Embry conceded. “She’s not—I swear, that yoga class she took up was some kind of miracle. She signed up, and a few sessions later, it was like she went Zen—well, as compared to how she was before. I kinda started hanging out with her after that.” Embry chuckled a little. “Really, I think we did both kinda ended up thrown together just because there was no one else for us to hang out with. Pretty much everybody else refused to have anything to do with her, even her own brother, and, well…” Embry’s mouth twisted wryly. “When you’re the only guy in the pack who not only doesn’t have a girlfriend but hasn’t imprinted yet?” He shrugged, “You kind of get left out.”

”But—they’re still holding on to whatever she did in the past? To the point that they’re just making stuff up about her, just so long as it’s bad?” Sam had to ask, incredulous. “I mean, the crap I’ve heard some people saying about her…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

Embry sighed. “Yeah, I heard some of it, too.” He looked back at Sam, clearly uncomfortable. “And, uh—I just wanna say I’m sorry about…all that. I, uh, know what they’re saying about you and her.” He held up a placating hand. “Believe me, I know it’s not true—she got over that a long time ago, and trust me when I say she burned the bridge, too.” His mouth twisted. “I really don’t know why everybody seems to have forgotten that fight she and Sam had a few months after she ditched his pack and joined up with Jacob—they had it out, and that was that. At least for her.”

“Sounds to me like it’s them who won’t let it go,” Sam said dryly, though he was grateful to hear Embry’s words.

Embry just nodded in wry agreement, and they lapsed into silence again, this one not unpleasant. It was Embry who broke it with a friendly attempt at small talk. “So, uh—you came in with your brother, Dean?”

“Yeah,” Sam replied. “He’s probably off eating something somewhere.” He furrowed his brows a little and scanned the crowd. “I haven’t seen him for a bit, though.”

“Just between you and me, from what I’ve seen and heard, I don’t think he’s having fun, either,” Embry remarked quietly, a small smile on his face. Then, he said offhandedly, “And the other guy you came in with? Who is that guy?”

Sam deliberately kept his gaze on the crowd. “That’s just Cas. He’s a friend.”

Embry gave Sam a slightly skeptical look. “Well, I gotta say—Leah has picked up a very interesting friend,” he said, and took a drink of his beer.

Sam looked back at Embry; he clearly didn’t believe Sam’s casual act, but he could tell that he wasn’t going to outright ask about it, so Sam just shrugged with studied nonchalance and said, “Actually, he’s a total stiff. Good guy, though. He’ll drink you under the table, too.”

Embry laughed, but didn’t press the subject any further, for which Sam was thankful. Sam checked his watch, and then huffed a little. “Speaking of Cas, I think I’d better gather my forces—it’s ten-fifteen. I have a feeling they’re going to start rounding us up for the wedding soon.”

Embry nodded and held out his hand. “Nice meeting you, Sam,” he said, and he sounded like he meant it. “And if I don’t see her before they get started, tell Leah I said hi and to come find me afterwards—we really need to plan a day where we can play some Halo.”

“I’ll tell her,” Sam said, smiling as he gave Embry a much friendlier handshake this time, and then made a beeline for Cas, walking quickly so no one in the crowd would try to talk to him.

Cas was still standing beneath his trellis, the only change being that he now had an empty beer glass in one hand. “Hey, Cas,” Sam said with a sigh, happy to be in a vampire-free zone.

“Sam,” Cas answered with a nod.

Sam glanced around at the obvious empty space surrounding them. “Have you been…avoided like this this whole time?” he asked.

“Yes,” he answered. “I make the werewolves uncomfortable, and I gather that the vampires find it physically painful to be too close to me.”

“Good,” Sam said viciously. He tilted his head to regard him. “They’ve been asking me about you—I think they know that you’re…different.”

Cas nodded. “From what I’ve gleaned from the minds here, none of the wolves or vampires believe I’m human.” He looked passively out over the crowd. “The rest of the humans are taking cues from them and staying away as well—except for the police chief. He brought me a beer,” he said, indicating the glass in his hand.

Sam’s stomach swooped a little. “Ah—the police chief?” he asked. “What—what did he want?”

“He just said hello. He seemed to think it was odd that I was by myself.” His brows knitted briefly. “He wanted to know about my study of the Bible.”

Sam closed his eyes. “And…what did you say?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“I told him that I don’t need to study it—I know the Word of God in its entirety.”

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. It could have been worse, but really, by now you’d think they’d know better than to leave the angel by himself. “Well,” he said, “I guess we should find Dean.”

“Here he comes now,” Cas said, and Sam turned around to look. “I don’t think he’s very happy.”

That was an understatement. Dean was storming across the Astroturf, his face black and his fists clenched. He stomped right up to Sam and before he could say a word, Dean snarled, “Goddammit, the next one of these sparkling dickheads starts going on about my ‘outrageous flavor’ is getting a salad fork in the eye!”

Sam blinked. “Your…what?” he asked, nonplussed.

I didn’t say it,” Dean growled. “But every one of these mincing homos I run into, they start gushing about my ‘delectable aroma’ and how ‘they’ve never smelled anything like it,’ and ‘that to taste your blood would be so amazing’—my God!” He was roaring now, waving his arms like a windmill. “Who says stuff like that?!”

“Dean,” said Sam, who was marveling over how even his voice was and that not a single squeak of laughter had escaped him, “lower your voice.”

“Why should I?” he demanded. “They can hear me anyway.”

They could, too, and Sam avoided all the red and yellow eyes that were turning toward them as Dean ranted. “And I hope they do!” he fumed.

“Dean,” Sam said again in his best calming voice, “you need to calm down. They were bugging me too.”

“Oh, really?” he shot back angrily. “They ‘bugged you too.’ You mean, they all wanted to eat you? Every single one of them?”

Sam’s jaw dropped briefly, but he closed it and then conceded, “Well, no, but—”

Dean wasn’t done. “And if they didn’t just want to eat me,” he seethed, “then they were telling me that, oh, they would love to change me, I would make such an amazing and powerful vampire, that my chances were very good, and that it would ‘only hurt for a moment’!” His face worked in wordless outrage before he gawped with sudden, horrified comprehension. “Sam—I just got propositioned by a dude!”

Sam blinked rapidly, but he couldn’t help it—he laughed.

“Oh, you think this is funny, do you?” Dean snarled.

“Well, considering how un-funny this day has been so far, yeah,” Sam chortled back at him.

Dean was muttering under his breath. “They would not leave me alone! Everywhere I went, there was another one, just lying in wait like a spider, all wanting to turn me into one of them or just eat me—or do me,” he groused. “Some chick tried to get me to sneak off behind the driftwood with her—as if I want to screw a bloodsucking Frigidaire,” he sneered.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Ah—was that Tanya? The blonde in blue?”

Dean gave him a sideways look. “Yeah—why?”

He smirked. “Well, I hate to burst your bubble, but you’re not special in that regard.”

Dean stared at him, and then scowled horribly at his smug grin. “Yeah, well—did you get told that you would be much better to be suited to being a vampire, because as a human you were nothing but wasted potential?” he wanted to know.

Sam sobered at that. “Not exactly,” he replied. He looked around for Eleazar’s dark head, and looked quickly away again when he saw him staring avariciously in their direction. “I was told that I already had gifts like a vampire—and that I smelled of sulfur,” he said tartly.

Dean stared, and then his mouth dropped open in outrage. “Those sons of—”

Dean,” Sam cut him off before he could build up a good head of steam. “You are really attracting attention.”

He subsided into impotent fuming, casting dark looks at the vampires around him. “Okay, so—fine,” he said after a moment. “I can see why they’d all be into you—but why the hell are all coming on to me?!”

Surprisingly, it was Castiel who chimed in. “Perhaps it is because you are Michael’s True Vessel,” he suggested.

They both turned to look at him in surprise. “What?” Dean asked blankly.

Cas replied matter-of-factly. “You are the most unique and powerful vessel on the planet, Dean—and that power is in your blood. Even Sam could not contain Lucifer without drinking—” He stopped, confused, as Sam and Dean both started frantically waving at him to censor himself. “…what he…had to drink,” he said hesitantly, and then straightened and continued as they relaxed. “But you could have carried Michael unaided and with no ill effects—maybe the vampires are sensitive to the strength of your blood.”

Dean stared at him, and then thrust his chin out. “Yeah, well—I said no to that dick—and I’m saying no to these too! Ow!” he hollered as Sam stomped hard on his foot. He opened his mouth to angrily demand what the hell he was doing, but Sam gestured meaningfully to the surrounding crowd—many of whom were now giving them very dirty looks.

Dean glared defiantly back at them, but quieted down all the same. Reassured that he wasn’t going to start anything, Sam asked him, “So—did any of the wolves talk to you?”

Dean’s face, which had been smoothing out, dropped back into an angry glower. “No—because all the stupid vampires were too busy sniffing my ass!”

“Well—I did,” Sam said grimly. “Did you know that Leah is a raging slut who is sleeping with all three of us just to get revenge on her old boyfriend?”

Dean’s mouth fell open. Sam went on. “Oh—and that she also picked us up specifically because my name is Sam and she’s using me as some sort of sick proxy? I mean, she’s that much of a bitch, after all.”

Dean was speechless, a rare occurrence. Cas, however, was not. “I haven’t slept with her,” he said, bewildered.

That snapped Dean out of it. “Cas,” he said, closing his eyes, “you’re not helping.”

Cas still looked vaguely worried. Dean just shook his head. “Are you serious about that?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m serious,” Sam said tiredly. “I was actually pulled aside by some of them so they could, you know, warn me off of her—but only because they were worried about her old boyfriend.”

Dean took a deep breath. “I absolutely cannot believe these people,” he said slowly. “I admit it—I thought Leah might have been exaggerating a little…but this…” He looked all around them. “Things like this should not exist!” he said, almost desperately.

“No—no, they shouldn’t,” Sam agreed fervently.

“Yeah—but they do.”

Sam whirled around in surprise, and Dean did the same. It was Leah. She looked drawn and tired—but otherwise no different than she had when she’d left them. “Dean,” she said, rubbing her temple, “please tell me you have some aspirin?”

He did; she took three of them gratefully and swallowed them dry. “Well, I escaped,” she announced, smiling weakly. “You boys okay?”

Sam glanced at Dean, who just said, “Yeah—we’re fine. You?”

“They, ah, don’t seem to have made you over,” Sam observed.

Leah shook her head wearily. “Not for lack of trying,” she sighed. “Alice had this stunning orange muumuu complete with beaded fringe that she wanted to dress me in.”

Dean looked indignant. “Why the hell would they want to do that?” he demanded. “You’re hot!”

“I guess they don’t agree,” she said dryly. “That, or they just want me to look like all the rest of the redskins.”

Sam felt his eyebrows draw together angrily, and Dean made a noise of disgust. Leah gave a small smile and said, “But I finally got rid of her by telling her that the dress was a gift from you guys and that I didn’t want to be ungrateful.”

“Damn straight,” said Dean stoutly, although Sam could only sigh internally; he knew how that remark had been misinterpreted further down the line.

Leah leaned her forehead into her hand but then let it drop, trailing down over her neck—and she suddenly smiled with a little of her familiar mischief as her fingers brushed over her necklace. “There was one good thing that came out of it, though,” she said. She smiled, and it was not at all benign. “Bella did comment on my necklace—she said it was just amazing what they could do with costume jewelry these days.”

Sam nearly choked in disbelieving laughter. Dean, however, looked indignant. “What, you mean we—” he stopped abruptly, and then dropped to a whisper. “You mean we had him swipe that thing for nothing?” he hissed.

Leah smiled beatifically. “No, Dean,” she said. “It was so, so worth it.” Then she sighed, her brief burst of defiance spent. “Really, I think the only reason I got away was because it was time for people to start gathering for the ceremony—look.”

They did, and sure enough, while they had been speaking, the milling crowds had been slowly migrating towards the seats lined beneath the awning.

“Oh, goodie,” Dean said, positively brimming with enthusiasm.

Leah bounced her eyebrows in agreement, but then stiffened. “Don’t look now,” she said out of one corner of her mouth. “but here come the proud parents of the bride.”

Sam looked, and he looked again. There they were, walking towards them—the proud seventeen-year-old parents. He didn’t care how old they really were—it still looked awful, like the June Issue of Trailer Park Weddings. The woman—no, girl, he insisted to himself—was wearing yet another gown straight off the rack of J.C. Penney Hookerwear, and the diamonds around her neck were so tacky and ostentatious that they couldn’t be anything but real. The languid, haughty boy behind her was hovering closely over her shoulder, his eyes darting from side to side as they drew close—until they came to rest on Cas.

Both of them came to an abrupt halt just as that Alice vampire had, rocking back on their heels as their eyes widened and they stared almost slack-jawed at Castiel, who gazed very seriously back. However, the boy—who could only be one Edward Cullen, Sam realized, who Leah had told them all about—was looking almost angrily at Cas, glaring at him as if the angel had just told him his mother had an unwholesome affinity for donkeys. It took Sam a moment, but he suddenly put two and two together and could not help the small, smug smirk that twisted his mouth.

Of course—Edward Cullen. Leah had told them plenty of horror stories about that pompous asshole—including the fact that he had what was considered a fairly impressive ability in the vampire community. He and Dean had not been at all keen about being in the same place as a vampire that could read minds without any apparent effort—it had nearly been the deal-breaker against them coming at all. But before they’d let Leah down, Dean had decided to ask Cas if he could take care of that particular problem. And luckily, Cas had said that he could. Best Sam could figure from the strange explanation he’d given, he was essentially filling the air with the brainwave equivalent of static interference, effectively shutting down any telepath within a ten-mile radius of where he stood.

Judging by the way that Edward was attempting to hate Castiel to death, he’d just figured out the source of his radio silence.

Once again, Leah directed conversation away from Cas by speaking first. “Hello again, Bella,” she said, bringing their attention to her. Well, Bella’s attention, anyway—Edward was still giving Cas the most ridiculously pissy glower he’d ever seen, while Cas just stared back, that omnipresent crease between his brows deepening slightly.

“Oh—yes, hello, Leah,” Bella managed, shaking herself but still looking a bit twitchy. “So lovely to have you back for the wedding.” Her smile was everything artificial and insincere. “Are these the friends you mentioned?”

“Yes,” Leah said, and began gesturing to each of them as she had several times before. “This is Dean and Sam Winchester, and this is Cas.”

Sam could only stare as Bella stepped forward, shaking out her perfectly-coiffed hair, and grabbing Edward’s hand and pulling him to stand close. As she drew their linked hands upwards and forward to rest affectedly against his chest, Sam realized that she was making a very deliberate show of their wedding rings, hers a cheese-grater-like abomination of silver and diamonds and his just a plain band.

“I’m Bella Cullen, and this is my husband Edward,” she said as charmingly as possible, thrusting out her chest, and one of her legs calculatedly poking out of the way-too-high slit in her dress. “We’re Renesmee’s parents.”

Sam flicked his eyes over to Dean, who was watching the two literally strike a pose in front of them with abject disbelief. Their little moment was ruined when Bella’s artful smile wilted slightly in the face of their silence. Shortly afterwards, Edward suddenly spoke, still staring at Cas. “Cas what, exactly?” he asked, trying to sound polite but mostly just sounding pushy.

Leah answered before Cas did this time. “Castiel,” she said bluntly. “He’s not from around here.”

Edward finally looked away from Cas, mostly to give Leah a contemptuous look down his angular nose. He took a breath to speak, and then Sam heard his brother audibly growl when the vampire’s eyes went wide and his focus was abruptly on Dean, Castiel all but forgotten. Sam glanced over to see Dean drag his hand over his face, rubbing his chin furiously and turning away when Bella had the exact same dramatic reaction as her husband.

“My word—Dean, I can scarcely believe it, but—” Edward gasped, trying to articulate himself. “You must be quite the center of attention at this party,” he finally said, still sounding stunned, but now also vaguely amused.

“Oh, yeah, I’m an all-around popular guy!” Dean snarled furiously.

“Your smell even tempts me!” Bella exclaimed, as if that were something unheard of.

“The only human I’ve ever smelled who was more mouth-watering than you was my wife when she was human, and that was because she was my singer: her blood called to me more strongly than any other,” Edward elaborated further.

Dean looked like he was about to throw a genuine tantrum as he glared ferociously at them both. “Well, I’m so glad my eau de cheeseburger is going over so well with you people. I bought it just for this monster mash!” he exclaimed, a note of angry hysteria creeping into his voice.

Sam was afraid his brother was going to start screaming—or worse, just try to punch one of them in the face—when they both just laughed pompously at him. “Cheeseburger? You don’t smell like a cheeseburger,” Bella chuckled as she waved her hand dismissively. “You smell—” She leaned forward, inhaling deeply, and Sam was alarmed to see Dean’s hand—the one clutching the cocktail fork—twitch menacingly. Dean gave him a petulant scowl when Sam gently took it away from him, but only briefly, keeping his eyes trained on the vampire leaning in so close, and his jaw clenched when Bella started talking again.

“I smell…jasmine, yes, there is very clearly some jasmine in there. And honey! Clover honey,” she breathed orgasmically, her eyes closed in rapture.

Edward was openly sniffing at him now, too. “Not just that—there is laurel and sandalwood, too. And a hint of ocean breeze,” he added decisively.

“And something else, Edward, I can’t really put my finger on it…it’s so indistinct, but it is there…” She opened her eyes and turned to Edward. “You’re better at this than me, can you tell what it is?” she asked.

Edward took one last huff, his eyes closed in contemplation, and then he opened them again. “Morning dew,” he smirked, giving Bella a triumphant look.

She laughed. “It’s not fair, you have almost a century more experience than me.” She turned back, as if suddenly remembering they were still standing there. “It truly is amazing, Dean. Such a wonderful scent—doesn’t that indicate strong potential?” she said eagerly to her husband, again forgetting the rest of them.

“Yes,” Edward said, nodding wisely.

“Maybe he’s like me,” she continued. “I was pretty much born to be a vampire, after all,” she said, turning back to Dean. “You know, you might almost be as powerful as me, if you were one of us.” She finally seemed to remember why she had come over to them in the first place. “Well, anyway, it’s almost time for the ceremony to begin—if you all would not mind finding seats? And you will need to be on the wolf side, please, since you came with Leah.” She tossed them all a dazzling smile, gave Dean one long, last sniff, and then the two of them flounced off, going over to round up any other stray guests they could find, with Edward throwing one more petulant, suspicious look over his shoulder at Cas.

Nobody said anything. Sam still couldn’t quite believe what had just transpired, and was torn between outraged disbelief and the urge to just burst out laughing. He could tell Leah was in the same predicament, while Dean just had that stunned, blank look he’d had since Bella had first said the word “jasmine.”

Sam finally felt that he had himself under control so that he could speak without laughing. “Morning—”

Shut up!” Dean barked. “I do not—I do not smell like that. Any of that!”

“No,” Leah said mildly. “You smell like Calvin Klein.” She leaned forward to affectionately pat Dean’s butt. “I suppose it covers your natural floral scent.”

“You can just go hump a tree,” he grumbled, crossing his arms furiously and glaring accusingly at the world at large.

Leah chuckled, but quickly sobered, threading her arms through theirs again (having to use a little force to make Dean unfold his). She stared unhappily at the seating area, the rows of white chairs slowly filling up with humans and wolves and vampires.

“Come on, guys,” she sighed. “Let’s go.”

Author’s Note: Cas was a bit concerned that his fooling around with Leah on the couch might have been classified as sleeping with her, but he was mostly worried that somehow everyone had found out about that.

Another very spoily note for the non-SPN fans: In the SPN canon, angels are non-corporeal beings who have to “possess” a willing human vessel in order to walk the earth. What’s more, only certain people of certain bloodlines are physically able to contain an angel—but even then, it isn’t pleasant, and the more powerful the angel, the greater the physical and mental damage is done to their human host, up to and including death. The major plot-arc of SPN is that Dean and Sam are the destined human vessels of the archangels Michael and Lucifer in the battle of Armageddon. While Sam wouldn’t have been able to contain Lucifer without drinking a great deal of demon blood, Dean would have been able to hold the most powerful of all the angels indefinitely and without breaking a sweat, the only person in the world who could do so. Hence, his blood is in fact the most unique and special in on the planet, and so Meyerpires would be all over him like white on rice. Take that, Bella.

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Tags: fanfic, fic: the wedding crashers, public post, ship: leah/castiel, twilight series
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