"Alright, mister Winchester let me be sure I understand you correctly."

Sam sat back in the uncomfortable square shaped chair sat opposite the desk in Dawn Ostroff's Californian office and waited.

Dawn, another of LA's perfectly polished stiletto wearing stick insects smiled and arched her fingers together in the manner of a Bond villain. Her red lips twisted into a sardonic smile, and Sam had to stomp down on the urge to drown her in the recently blessed water dispenser. "You want me to put your show on indefinite hiatus."

Sam nodded. "That's right." He answered carefully.

She sat back, not slouching, but relaxing the way a well fed lioness would after a hearty meal. "Why?"

"My brother is going to Hell." Saying it out loud hurt like a knife to the ribs. Damnit Dean.

Dawn licked her lips shamelessly. "Yes, I think you'll find that is actually a major selling point."

Sam's trigger finger twitched. "I'm going to save him."

"Change the record sweetheart, it's getting boring."

Sam sat forwards, fists clenched against the armrests to keep from getting down on his knees and begging, if it would make a difference. He had his pride, and the battle was not so far gone yet. "I just need more time. Put us on re-runs. Pimp that stupid Reaper show for all I care, just please, give us more time."

She laughed. "Sweetie, how much time do you want? I could plug your gaps with every episode of the XFiles and it still wouldn't make a difference. You still don't know who holds darling Dean's contract, and unless the bigwigs pull their thumbs out of their wrinkly old asses and end this silly little strike, that doesn't look set to change any time soon."

He didn't growl, and held on to his temper admirably. "I have a lead."

Dawn's smile turned wicked. "Oh really. Tut tut Sammy, you know better than that."

Sam simply glared. "Are you going to give us out hiatus or not?"

"Or not." She smiled sweetly. "Even if you know who holds the contract, you still have to trap him, still have to make a deal. Easier said than done."

"I trapped you." Sam pointed out, referring to the Devil's Trap he had TipExed on the underside of her leather upholstered computer chair.

"Yes," Dawn admitted, frowning for the first time. "That was rude."

Sam shrugged. It was his turn to smile now. "So give us our hiatus, or I'll send you back downstairs. You'll be stuck trying to convince people that Superman can act for the rest of eternity."

"Fine." She huffed. "One indefinite hiatus." She held up her hand when Sam began to stand. "But, when, and I do mean when, Dean does end up downstairs, I expect you to spend season four doing something productive, you understand? The sad emo puppy look has a niche market, true, but you are so much easier to sell when you are being bad." She winked.

This time, Sam did growl. "He's not going to Hell."

"We'll see."

Satisfied, but still angry, Sam spun on his heels and marched for the door.

"Wait, you can't just leave me like this!" Dawn hissed in distress, still stuck on her thousand dollar chair.

"I'll send in a PA." Sam shrugged. "In an hour or two."

To his surprise, she laughed. "Long live the Boy King."

*****

Dean was waiting in the Impala, eyes blown wide and a stupid, sappy grin on his face. It was the 'just been laid' look Sam knew so well. "Have fun?"

"Dude," Dean grinned. "I just totally fucked myself."

There were some things, Sam decided, that he really didn't need to know.

END TeH CRACK