the look of love

[jaded_of_mara]

Fandom: Supernatural/Austin Powers
Category: Gen (with some m/m)
Rating: Teen
Wordcount: ~4,000

Originally written for SPN Coldest Hits, a monthly challenge to see which author can accrue the least engagement on their fics during a certain period.

NOVEMBER 2, 1983 - LEGIT LAWRENCE, KS

Dean Dangerous, American Man of Letters, was driving his low-riding, gas-guzzling, American-made car down the highway when Ketch, the office's young liaison, spoke over the CB radio.

"Dean, be advised, we have reason to believe the King of Hell will be enacting an evil scheme at the most bitchin' biker bar in all of Kansas," Ketch said. "You and Mrs. Harvelle must stop his plans tonight, over..

Mrs. Harvelle, his partner in fighting monsters, leaned over on the bench seat and pushed the button to talk back.

"Ten-four, Ketch, we'll head on out and stop that S-O-B, over."

Dean Dangerous grinned and gunned the engine. They'd take the King of Hell out tonight and get Mrs. Harvelle back to her husband in no time.

A large statue of a granny in a Biggerson's apron smiled down on the bar's parking lot. Tonight was going to be a big night.

Dean Dangerous followed Mrs. Harvelle into the bar. He accessorized his acid-wash jeans and windbreaker with a bow-legged swagger. As a diversion, he and Mrs. Harvelle danced to the best hard rock 1983 had to offer.

Dean Dangerous smiled when a beautiful, scantily-waitress offered him a margarita.

"Don't mind if I do," he said.

He raised the glass to his lips before changing his mind, turning around and smashing the glass into the side of the girl's face.

"Dean, what the hell?" Mrs. Harvelle yelled.

Dean Dangerous crouched down to where the waitress had fallen on the floor, gesturing at her face.

"Salt burns from the margarita," he said.

Mrs. Harvelle understood instantly. "She's a demon."

Dean Dangerous shook the demon to rouse it for questioning. "Where is the King of Hell?" he demanded.

Before she could answer, a gunshot rang out from across the room. Dean Dangerous had just enough time to see the light flicker from her eyes.

Up on the balcony overlooking the square-dance floor stood the King of Hell! He twitched his nose and began stalking away from the scene of his crime.

Dean Dangerous took a closer look at the body.

"Sanctified bullets. Looks like even the King of Hell can't be too careful around demons," he said.

Mrs. Harvelle looked up at Dean Dangerous.

"Go after him! I'll do crowd control," she said.

Dean's Double-H boots squeaked against the bloodied floorboards as he pursued the King of Hell, his ivory-grip pistol in his hand.

"Get back here, you friggin' clydesdale," Dean Dangerous yelled after the escaping miscreant.

The King of Hell had led him to a boneyard just behind the bar: Slut Cemetery.

"You're too late, Mr. Dangerous. Why serve above when I could rule... below?" The King of Hell rubbed at his palm.

Behind him, a pit opened up, sucking in air from all around.

The King of Hell smirked one last time. "Live a life, Mr. Dangerous. Find a wife, have a kid. Just know: I'll be right under your feet the entire time."

"Riot!" The King of Hell yelled. A huge mutt came bounding out of the bar and into the King of Hell's arms, knocking them both back into the pit. Dean dangerous could only watch as his perfect nemesis, his opposite, left the world entirely.

Mrs. Harvelle came running into the graveyard. "Dean! Did he get away?"

Dean Dangerous knew what he had to do. "He'll be back to theaters near you soon enough. Call Ketch: it's time to implement Project Lazarus."

Dean Winchester edited to wear glasses and a checked suit with overlaid text reading "Yeah Baby" and "Dean Dangerous"

NOVEMBER 5, 2022 - NORAD, COLORADO SPRINGS

Petty Seargeant John Crichton looked over the satellite readout on his screen. Something abnormal was going on in southeast Kansas.

He called his supervisor. "Major Scorpius, would you look at this? It looks like a giant-"

"HOLE!" the mine foreman yelled before dynamite blew ore loose.

As the trucks started to move into the blast site, the new hire tugged at his sleeve.

"Look at this LIDAR scan from KU - doesn't it look like a big-"

"KOOCHIE!"

"What?" the lead singer asked.

The guitarist got more agitated while the drummer looked out the window of the private jet. "The lyric is 'rock and roll, koochie-koo.' You were saying-"

The drummer gestured her bandmates to look out the window. "Look at that hole in flyover country! Ha, get it? mbb Flyover -"

 "Cunt! That's two prawns on the barbie you owe me," Dane yelled, rubbing his head where a rugby ball had smacked him.

His mate walked over, thongs flapping in the sand, wiping his phone off on his Bintang singlet. "Sorry, brah, was just distracted. Some yank found a hole in his backyard shaped like a right massive-"

"-vagina?"

Major Scorpius looked thoughtful. "You're right. I'll make the call."

THE KING OF HELL'S THRONE ROOM - 2022

An assortment of the world's greatest hitmen sat gathered around an evil table. They knew why they had been summoned.

"Mike Ehrmantraut."

An old, bald man's chair tipped backward into a pit of fire.

"Lalo Salamanca."

A Latino guy with an undercut was next.

"Patrick Kuby."

An Irish Bostonian was flung backwards too.

"Some of the most competent men in your field, and yet all of you have failed to kill Dean Dangerous. It can't be that hard, people."

The King of Hell hovered his hand over his control board, before looking up.

"Meg Masters. Do you know why I am keeping you alive?"

The petite brunette known to some as Meg looked up. "... No?"

"To explain!" the King of Hell yelled. "Riot was a powerful mastiff when we went into hiding. Now he's just bones!"

The King of Hell whipped around, presenting a tiny hairless Chihuaha in his hands to the terrified crowd.

"For this, there can be no forgiveness." He pressed the button, sending Meg cascading into the depths of the pit.

"It's okay, puppy. I'll never stop loving you," the King of Hell murmured. "Onto our next order of business. Firstly, I would-"

"Motherfucker! That hurts!" Meg yelled from below.

"Right. So I want to-"

"I'm on fire and I'm in Hell!" Meg continued.

"Okay, so basically,-"

"Can anyone hear me?" Meg begged.

The King of Hell gestured at two demons, who scampered off in Meg's direction. He clapped his big hands and began to speak anew."

"Let's get down to brass tacks. Firstly,-"

A gunshot rang out from below.

The King of Hell closed his eyes before continuing. "I just want to thank-"

"You shot me! What the fuck?"

The King of Hell mimed counting down on his fingers until another shot rang out. The room was silent.

"Okay. Let's run through introductions. Firstly, we have the only man capable of ruling in my stead, the Duke of Hell. Say hello, Dukie," the King of Hell began.

The Duke sighed. "I'd prefer if you didn't call me that. My King, in your absence we have diversified our operations significantly. Now in addition to purchasing souls, we also provide minimum-wage work to desperate individuals, while charging them far too much for their expenses. This ensures we can turn a profit while spreading evil in the world."

"Very nice, Dukie," the King of Hell replied. "Next, we have the lovely Rowena MacLeod, chair of the Scottish National Party's occult division."

Rowena wiggled her fingers at the King of Hell.

"We can't forget about La Belle Lapine. Her lucky rabbit's foot has ensured the police have never once caught onto her tricks," the King of Hell said.

La Belle Lapine scoffed. "Please, my king. Tricks are for kids."

Everyone let that comment sit for a bit.

"Right. Lastly, we have Kevin. Everybody likes Kevin."

"I don't," the Duke muttered.

"It's mutual," Kevin replied.

"Great! So while I was kept safe in the Archangels' Cage, I came up with a number of new plans for world dominance. How about this? I promise, it's a doozy::We emotionally manipulate a celebrity, say an actor, or a musician. We make him think his honor is on the line, and provoke him into attacking one of his fellow stars at a prestigious awards night, inciting violence across the nation as impressionable youth are inspired by this cruel display!" The King of Hell began to laugh, rubbing at his palm.

The Duke cleared his throat. "My King. That has already happened. One of America's leading men slapped a comedian for joking about his wife, at the Academy Awards."

The King of Hell raised his eyebrows. "Really? I thought it was so specific... Oh well, I had nothing but time to plan! We could use the considerable funds the Duke has so kindly raised for us, and purchase a telecommunications company. While we will promise to open it up in the name of free speech, we will actually use it to destabilize the pillars of society while making the smartest men look foolish!" The King of Hell began laughing even harder.

Kevin and the Duke made exasperated eye contact. "That has... also already happened," the Duke said.

The King of Hell looked crestfallen, before brightening again. "Oh, let's just do what we always do, release a bunch of primordial beings and remake the world in our own image! Sound good?"

Everyone in the room began laughing evilly.

After pulling himself from the Lazarus bog and drinking copious amounts of water, Dean Dangerous was ready to take on the world again. With the state department at his back and an elderly Arthur Ketch by his side, he would take the 2020s by storm. Until he learned Ketch was an administrator, now.

"Don't worry, Mr. Dangerous. You'll love your new partner, Ms. Harvelle," Ketch said.

Dean Dangerous brightened. "Mrs. Harvelle's still kicking ass? I can't wait to see her again!"

Ketch smiled condescendingly. "Not Mrs. Harvelle, Ms. Harvelle. Her daughter, Jo."

A young woman in a smart suit walked into the room. She looked every ounce the professional, except her hair had very little volume, and her jacket's shoulder pads were so small as to be invisible. She reached out and shook his hand with a strong, calloused grip.

"Dean Dangerous. I've heard the stories, but I can't wait to see the man in action. Let's gather your things and hit the road," She said.

They walked over to the counter, where good ol' Mick was still working after all these years. Mick began handing him items and listing them off, one by one.

"One copy of Randy Meisner: One More Song, first pressing. One acid-wash Canadian tuxedo, lightly used. One deflated water bed, with pumping kit," Mick read off.

Dean Dangerous pointed his thumb at the guy. "Water beds? So old-fashioned."

"One instruction manual for a water bed, autographed by one Dean Dangerous," Mick continued.

"Can you believe this? Water beds are totally grody, I seriously would never."

"One copy of the book 'Yes I Would: Why Water Beds are the Future,' written by Dean Dangerous," Mick finished.

Jo rolled her eyes. "I seriously don't care. Can we get a move on?"

Dean Dangerous followed her out the door.

United Nations Secretary General Richard Bashir had seen a lot in his life. When he worked his way up from diplomat's-gardener to diplomat, he knew his life would be interesting. From wormholes to genetic laboratories to prison cells, he had seen it all. Which was why he was shocked to be Zoomed by some demonic warlord during a General Assembly meeting.

"Representatives of the United Nations, for too long you have been complacent. Let it be known that I intend to release the archangel Raphael to raze all life on Earth, unless and until you pay my organization... one billion dollars!"

Bashir looked at his colleagues. Only one billion dollars? He took pity on the man.

"Listen, Lord of Hell. We don't negotiate with terrorists, especially not ones that low-ball us to such an absurd degree. Come back when you're willing to put in as much effort as the United States military," he said. The U.S. representative glared at him.

Whatever he'd said seemed to have offended the man. "Lord of hell? Lord of hell? Did I lose my family, corrupt my blood, and get stabbed in the back just to be called Lord of Hell? I am the king, and you will respect me. Are you ready with one bill-"

Someone off-screen interrupted him.

"My apologies. Because of your disrespect, I'm raising the amount. 100 billion dollars, to me, or face annihilation. See you," the King said, before signing off.

The members of the General Assembly stared at each other in horror, except for the representative from the United States.

"The American Men of Letters are already on it," she said smugly.

Dean Dangerous had been to Las Vegas before, but it was different in 2020. There were pedestrian bridges, low-energy lights, clear skies and recycled-water fountains.

Jo sat shotgun in the Pimpala, filling out forms. Dean Dangerous made sure he had the briefing down.

"We're sure the King of Hell's guy is here in Vegas? Now?" as he pulled into the porte-cochère of the hotel.

Jo got out and smirked over the shoulder of her slinky slip dress. "Not really, but we're here to gamble, right?"

He followed her into the casino.

It turns out he was in the center of the pit, commanding a blackjack table with a blue-eyed man in a tight navy dress shirt perched on his lap. Dean and Jo took a seat at the table and asked to be dealt in.

Dean Dangerous knew the key to good spywork was standing out, so that no-one would suspect you of spying. He reached his hand across the table to grab the man, introducing himself all the while. "Nice to meet you! I'm so excited to be gambling in Vegas with a talented man such as yourself. My name's Chuck Panozzo, and I want you to meet my lovely wife, Blondie."

The man regarded him coolly. "A pleasure. I'm the Duke, and this charming pet is Dick Cumming."

Dean Dangerous' eyes widened, before he schooled his expression by furrowing his brows and clearing his throat. "Nice to meet you, Dick."

Dick squinted at him, before leaning down to speak in the Duke's ear. Though he was very close to his audience, Dean Dangerous was able to hear the man's gravely voice with ease, as though he didn't care. "Dukie, I think we should find some privacy. You know I don't like an audience," he said.

He slid off the Duke's lap and allowed him to get up.

"If you would excuse me, I need to powder my nose," the Duke said.

Dean Dangerous gave it thirty seconds, before getting up too. "Gotta piss," he said, before he followed the Duke to the men's room.

Once inside, he made small-talk with a cowboy named Garth while he waited for a stall to open. Once one did, he made his way inside and began getting out his spying tools. As he looked for the bug he planted on the Duke's shirtsleeve, a chain came up behind his neck. He couldn't breathe!

As he choked, he saw that from the chain dangled a rabbit's foot. This must be one of the King of Hell's assassins. He pulled the assassin's arms forward and plunged her head into the toiled bowl. "Who does Dukie work for?"

As the assassin drowned, he heard Garth the cowboy say "Yikes!" to himself one stall over. Oh well. He could always find out more from other venues. He just needed to learn more about Dick Cumming.

Rowena MacLeod led the King of Hell through the nine layers to a side chamber he'd never seen before. "My King, there's something you should know," she began. "While we waited for your return, we decided to use the ...samples you created while working on Project Lucifer."

A chill ran down the King of Hell's spine as she knocked on the door.

"I want you to meet Jack. Your son."

The door opened to a young man wearing all white, from his jean jacket to his Chuck Taylors. The King of Hell could hear a loud soprano singing mournfully about a man named Julien over synthesizers, while some sort of Star War played on the boy's big-screen TV.

Rowena clapped her hands. "Jack! I want to present to you your father."

Jack didn't look impressed with him at all. "Where have you been all my life? Why did you come back now?"

The King of Hell started, "Well, son, I-"

"I don't want to hear it! You're not my dad!" he yelled, before teleporting away.

"He can do that?" the King of Hell asked Rowena?

She smiled. "He can do a lot."

Dean Dangerous snuck his way through Dick Cumming's hotel window, carrying with him the car-less phone Jo had given him. Apparently it took pictures faster than a Polaroid and could call from anywhere in civilization. It also had access to a lot of porn, though none of the actors seemed to have any bush.

Dean Dangerous found incriminating files in the hotel room almost instantly. He took pictures as if they were nudies, excitedly seeing corporate chains-of-command and plans to release archangels and produce music by imaginary dragons.

He continued flipping through files when he heard a flapping noise. He looked up and saw Dick Cumming's silhouette through the bathroom's frosted glass door. Dean Dangerous hid his phone down the back of his jeans and leaned casually against the sofa in Dick's suite as Dick came through the door.

"Mr. Panozzo," he said, his growly voice so alluring. "What brings you to my room?"

Dean Dangerous was officially flustered. "Well, uh, to be honest, I was shocked to see you with a man like the Duke. Tell me, does he appreciate your beauty? Does he appreciate you at all?"

Dick's face softened. "The Duke treats me well enough, but can I tell you something?" He came closer, right into Dean Dangerous' space. "There's no one I can be comfortable with. Not truly."

Dean knew he was a goner. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?" he asked.

"Come with me?"

Amy, a gorgeous kitsune famous for her looks as western as they were space-operatic, led a group of monstrous families through therapy every week. Today, there were two newcomers: a tall man and his floppy-haired adult son.

"I just don't feel like he respects me or what I can do," the boy finished saying.

"You're completely valid in how you're feeling," Amy began. "My own son and I began having difficulties when he got sick and needed fresher food. He disagreed with my methods, but I couldn't stand to see him hurt. When I opened up about my own history, he understood where I was coming from, and we were able to work out a solution that kept us both happy. So, Mr. Hell, I think you should tell Jack where you come from."

The tall man stood. "I hear what you're saying, but my upbringing was fairly normal. My father took me in when I was six months old and groomed me into my role I hold today. I received the best quality law education from a certain school in the Bay Area, and took up my task of reshaping the world." The tall man paused to gather his thoughts. "He kept me to a strict and esoteric diet, which I maintain to this day. This structure in my life has helped me a lot, and I think a similar structure could help little Jackie here."

Amy smiled. "Thank you for sharing. Let's move on."

Jo and Dean Dangerous snuck into the King of Hell's portal in the nuclear craters outside Las Vegas.

"Those documents belonging to Dick Cumming, how did you get them?" Jo asked.

Dean Dangerous laughed. "The way anyone gets anything done! We totally porked."

"Ew!"

Dean Dangerous gasped. "They told me homophobia wasn't allowed in the future!"

"Not that you two hooked up, the fact that you say 'porked.' Just say hooked up, porked is so gross."

"Modern tastes," Dean Dangerous laughed.

Two demons came up behind them both, dragging them to the King of Hell's throne room.

"Dean Dangerous! It looks like you're just in time to witness my plot come to fruition!" He pointed to the demons. "Tie them up, make them watch."

The blond boy at his side gaped up at the King of Hell. "Wouldn't it make more sense to kill them now? If you just tie them up, they could escape and stop your plans."

The King of Hell sighed. "Yes, but where's the panache? What's the point of just killing them?"

"I could just snap my fingers and they're gone!" the boy argued. "I've been practicing! Dad, just let me-"

The King of Hell brought his fingers together and shut up his son. He stood and began ushering his minions out of the throne room.

"Alright, everyone, let's leave the room and see the archangel wake up. Chop chop!"

Dean Dangerous thought all hope was lost. He closed his eyes and knocked his head back against Jo's. Before he could let despair sink in too far, he heard Jo laugh.

"Thanks, dude. I'm guessing Dick Cumming isn't your real name?" she asked.

"No, it's not," he growled back. His voice was so sexy, it couldn't be real. "Mr. Dangerous. Are you coming?"

Dean Dangerous laughed. "I would be honored."

The trio crept their way through the halls of hell, before stopping in the main chamber. Dean Dangerous spotted a golden opportunity. He took out his pearl-grip pistol and held it to the son of hell's head.

"Stop your plans, or I'll shoot the kid," Dean Dangerous announced.

The King of Hell looked back at him and paused. "I mean, it's looking like you're set on killing him. If you want to shoot him that badly, I'm certainly not in a position to stop you."

"What? Dad, help me! You have to stop him!" the boy yelled.

The King of Hell crinkled his forehead, looking more conflicted than any father of a threatened son should. He sighed. "Okay, how about this: You take him with you as a hostage, and I don't end the world. He's out of my hair and learning about the real world, and there's still a world to learn about."

Dean Dangerous grit his teeth. "No. Unconditional surrender or he dies."

The King of Hell shrugs. "That was kind of my final offer, dude."

Dick Cumming somehow unfurls wings from his back and steps between the two, grabbing the son. "We're taking it. Dean Dangerous, you're leaving the kid alone. King of Hell, if you don't want him becoming a Man of Letters, send him with me."

"Dick," the Duke starts.

"Shut your mouth, I don't like where it's been," Dick shoots back.

The King of Hell throws up his hands. "Fine! Happy endings for all. Dean Dangerous, until we meet again. Dick, or whoever the fuck you are, get the fuck out of my sight."

Dick wraps his wings around Dean and Jo and the kid and flies them out of Hell, cursing all the way. Once they're out in the desert, he kneels before the boy.

"Jack. You are a very special individual. If you're willing, you could come with me, learn to wield your powers as a member of the Angelic Brotherhood."

The boy nods and the two disappear, leaving Dean and Jo somewhere alone in the Nevada desert, vultures circling overhead.

"Well, it looks like I'm still single!" Dean Dangerous jokes.