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A Different Dean

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Summary: Rory Gilmore ran into her first love's look-alike only to fall for the look-alike's older brother whose name happens to be...DEAN.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Television > Gilmore Girls
Supernatural > Non-BtVS/AtS Stories > Crossover: Gilmore Girls
PhoenixRaeFR1335,606033,48521 Feb 074 Mar 07No

I. Pit Stop

Summary: Rory Gilmore happened upon a rundown bar while enjoying a cross-country summer trip to clear her mind about everything that’s happened to her.  She wasn’t counting on running into someone who reminded her of her ex-boyfriend and first love, Dean Forrester, nor did she expect to find herself attracted to Dean’s look-alike’s older brother whose name happens to be…you guessed it, DEAN.

Disclaimer: Gilmore Girls & Supernatural aren't mine. They belong to their respective creators.

PhoenixRae’s Notes:  Just a silly plot bunny idea of mine.  It’s been a while since I wrote a chaptered fic and I doubt this will end up as one, but it wouldn’t be bad if it did, right? Comments. Opinions. ANYTHING is welcome.

Spoilers:  None really.  Well, basically everything up to recent season episodes of both Gilmore Girls and Supernatural.
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I. Pit Stop

TWENTY-TWO-YEAR-OLD Rory Gilmore parked her car in one of the available spots outside the busy rundown roadhouse located somewhere in the middle of nowhere.  She’d been driving around for the past twelve hours and every joint in her body was screaming REST STOP.

"What can I get you, honey?" asked the female bartender who looked like she could take on Attila the Hun.

"What do you have?"

Attila the Hun cocked an eyebrow, her hand doing a circling motion as she polished one of the numerous glasses she used to serve her customers slowed down as she studied the big blue eyed, brown haired girl that parked herself at the bar's counter looking like a prey amongst the wolves prowling her fine establishment.

"Do you have any IDs?"

Rory pulled out her driver's license and handed it to the hawkeyed bartender. After giving it a quick look-see, she handed her ID back and Rory tucked it in her purse once again.

"I got beer and some hard stuff. Maybe a few of those fancy ladies drink, but I don't do mixed drinks or serve any bubblies," Attila made it clear what was on hand.

Rory gulped down her sudden feeling of unease and forced a genuine smile on her face. "I think I'll have whatever your best bottled beer is," she replied. She can drink beer. She drank beer before, back in her heyday -- or whatever one would call what she did during her first few years at Yale.

Two seconds later Rory was faced with a bottle of ice cold -- she hoped -- beer accompanied by what a person could conceive as an assessing glarey-look from the female bartender that served her. Rory picked up her bottle, tipped it towards the bartender in a salute before taking a rather big gulp of the bitter tasting liquid.

Rory studied the place. It was packed, but not too packed. Most of the patrons looked like Luke's age, but on the corner by the pool table a pair of dark heads caught her attention. They were playing pool and looked like they were winning against the long haired blond male who was cussing up a storm each time the taller of the two sank a ball.

Picking up her bottle and canvass shoulder bag, Rory pushed herself off the bar stool, leaving a few bills on the counter enough to cover for her tip to Attila. She moved closer to the corner and leaned against the doorway frame post.

"You guys are hustling me!" wailed the irate blond, but he didn't sound too miffed that he was being hustled.

"Naw Ash, you're just rusty," chided the shorter -- but only by an inch -- of the two younger men.

"Yeah, Ash," agreed the other one, his deep, baritone voice sent a shiver down Rory's spine as it reminded her of another place and time when the same familiar voice was the focus of her life.

Her eyes sought out the owner of the voice and she nearly dropped the bottle of beer she was holding.

"Dean?" She didn't think she spoke out loud, but her calling out her ex-boyfriend's name stopped the game between the three men at the pool table.

"Yeah?" asked the other man, the one who didn't look like Dean.

Rory ignored him though. Her eyes was focused on the other man; the one who looked like her Dean. Well, he wasn't her Dean anymore, per se, but at one point in her life he was hers.

* * *

SAM FROWNED when the cute brunette with the brightest blue eyes kept on looking at him even though she called out his brother's name. He stepped away from the pool table and walked up to where the young woman stood.

"You're calling my brother, not me, right?" Sam watched as the petite brunette blinked out of her sudden trance and stared at him, still with that wide-eyed innocent blue eyes of hers. She looked at him then at Dean then back at him.

"S-sorry," she apologized. "I--I thought you were someone else." Christ, she was blushing! Sam had to bit back a grin as he watched the uncomfortable young woman who looked a bit too young to be of legal age, but Ellen served her drinks so she must be over twenty-one. "Excuse me," she pushed away from where she was standing and walked back to the bar.

Dean walked up to him, his eyes following the fleeing brunette.

"What's that about?" he asked.

Sam smirked and looked at his brother. "He thought I was somebody else," he chuckled.

Dean pursed his lips, forming his trademark pout accompanied by the cocking of his brow. "Is she from around here you think?"

Sam cocked an eyebrow as he hear the wheels in his brother's head turn. "Oh no, Dean, you are not going to make a pass at her," he backed away from his brother and joined Ash at the table.

Dean stood there a moment longer, watching the brunette with a pool of bright baby blues went back to the bar, deposited her beer bottle on the counter before leaving the Roadhouse.

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Author's Note: OK, against my better judgment, I am making this a chaptered fic. Hopefully it'll see an end before it becomes yet another *WIP* that wouldn't see the light of day -- or something like that.
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