Author's notes: Since I've gotten such awesome feedback (thanks, folks!) I decided to continue this lunac- erm- story. You have to go read "Rhymes with Witch" for this to make much sense, but it wicked short, so I can wait.

*Looks at wristwatch. Taps foot.*

Oh, sweet! You came back! Anyway, hope like the further adventures of Sam and Kitty!Dean. (And please don't hate me, all you Dean fangirls, I do adore him but I just couldn't kittyfy Sam.)

Language: Some strong words. Hey, boys will be boys…

Disclaimer: Don't own Sam, Dean, or Bobby. Maybe if I start saving my pennies…

Rhymes With Witch 2

Chapter One: Back at the motel

"You have GOT to be kidding me, Sam." Bobby Singer's voice carried a mixture of astonishment and amusement, and amusement was winning.

"I wish I was", replied Sam Winchester with a sigh. "But I'm not. We had this witch cornered, and right before she died she shot off one final spell. Dean pushed me out of the way and now…" Sam risked a look over at his elder brother. Dean, trapped in his new form, was curled into a ball in the middle of his motel bed, tiny ears pressed flat against his head, tail wrapped tightly around his body. A low growl was pulsing from his throat, his whole furry figure giving off his usual "don't mess with me" attitude.

Which given his new smaller stature, was SO not working.

Dean Winchester, terror of the creatures that prey on the innocent, hunter extraordinaire, reduced to THIS, he thought disgustedly. He glared over at Sam, his whole being radiating hot-white rage.

"This. Fucking. SUCKS!" Dean bellowed, which came out as "REEEOOOOW!"

"Dean's a kitten," Sam continued, getting slightly closer to the scowling little being. "A tiny grey kitten with some white stripes. He looks like he's about three or four months old." In spite of himself, Sam's lips curved into a smile. "I've got to tell you, Bobby, he looks awfully cute like – YEOW!"

"Sam?! Sam, what's wrong?! Are you alright?!" Bobby had launched himself out of his chair, as though he'd be able to jump through the phone and be right there to defend Sam. From the other end of the phone came the most dreadful hissing sounds, along with Sam's somewhat panicked voice:

"Get OFF me, you furry little psycho! I'm sorry! It's just that you are kinda cute like – OW! Damn it, Dean, those claws are SHARP! I mean it, stop clawing up my leg! OUCH! Fine! Fine! You know what, I'm sorry you didn't get turned into something more fitting your personality – like a WARTHOG!!! OOOOWWWW! Dude, don't you DARE bite me!"

More hissing and few high-pitched shrieks of rage and/or pain assaulted Bobby's ears. Most of the shrieking were coming from Sam, he was pretty sure. Holding the phone away from his head to preserve what was left of his hearing (not to mention his sanity), he took a breath, then shouted into the phone, "SAM! Put Dean on the phone!"

The silence that followed was so abrupt Bobby was worried that either the connection or Sam's femoral artery had been severed. When Sam's voice came back to the phone, he sounded more than a little out of breath and very confused.

"Um, Bobby? Did you just say…"

"You heard me," Bobby interrupted firmly. "Put Dean on the phone, or near the phone or however you have to do it, I don't care. Just make sure he can hear my voice, you got me?"

"Yes, sir," Sam replied. "I've just gotta get him. He's crawled under the bed." Bobby heard the phone being placed down, and then found himself listening to one of the most bizarre conversations he could remember.

Sam's voice: "Dean, Bobby wants to talk to you…"

A puzzled chirrup.

Sam: "I don't know! He just said he wanted me to put you on the line!"

An almost resigned meow.

Sam: "I'll just put the phone on the bed and pick you up…"

"HISSSSSSSSSS!!!!"

Sam: "… or I won't pick you up. You can just jump up there all on your own, okay?"

"Mew."

Sam's voice came back to phone. "Bobby? Just a second."

There was another pause, as Bobby assumed the phone was being placed on the bed. A moment later there was a soft thump as Dean jumped onto the bed and approached the phone. Bobby could a delicate sniffing sound, and then a soft "Meow?"

"Dean? Can you hear me?"

"Meow."

"Can you understand me?"

"*Sigh* Meow."

Bobby was starting to feel like reality was in the rear-view mirror and going out of sight at about Warp Factor Ten. He coughed once, trying to keep the laugh that was bubbling up in his chest from reaching his voice. "Damn, Dean, it was just ONE witch, how hard could that have been?!"

"Grrrrrrr…."

"Okay, okay, Dean. I'm sorry. Just be glad you've still got your human mind in that body. Sam could be coaxing you down from a tree or something."

"Mew!"

"I'll have to go through my books and see what I can find to fix this. Until then, and I know this is going to make you crazy, but will you PLEASE listen to Sam and not be your usual ornery self?

A low growl. Bobby could almost make out the word "bitch", and he was so glad Dean couldn't see the grin that was covering his face. "I mean it, Dean. Right now you've got be extra careful and keep yourself hidden."

"Meow?"

"Well, think about it for a minute, willya? Can you shoot a gun right now? Perform an exorcism? Exactly what are you gonna do if someone or something decided to attack? Throw up a hairball?"

"ROWR!!!!! HISSSS!!!!! FFFFT!!!!" Bobby held the phone away from his ear as the furious stream of noise poured from the receiver. He could hear Sam trying to play peacemaker by saying "Dean, Bobby's only telling you the truth…", which brought another enraged torrent of yowls from Dean's lips, this time directed away from the phone and back at his brother. Bobby could feel a headache coming on; why did he always seem to get headaches around Winchesters?

"Oh yeah, that's why" he thought dryly. "'Cause they're Winchesters and crazy shit like THIS happens to them on a pretty much daily basis."

"DEAN! Quit yowling -um- yelling at your brother and calm down!" Silence reigned for a moment, then Bobby hurt Sam's hurt mutter of "I was only trying to help" before a slightly calmer "Meow" came through the phone. Bobby sighed. "That's better. Dean, I know you're really freaked out right now…"

A "humph-Meow" that sounded suspiciously like "No shit"

"But you've got to trust me. And your brother. You know Sam would never let anything happen to you, right?

A pause, followed by a grumbling "Mew."

"So you and Sam just stay put for a few days, okay? I'll find out how to fix this for you, I swear." Bobby raised his voice a notch, "Sam? You right there?"

"Yeah, Bobby. Just standing here getting death glares from Dean…"

"Sam, get that laugh outta your voice before he decides to shred your legs again."

Sam coughed once. "I'm-I'm fine. So we should just stay put, then?"

"For now, until I can get some research done and figure out how to reverse this. In the meantime, just take care of him. He's going to need you a lot right now. What's he's he doing?"

"Trying to climb the curtains."

Bobby rolled his eyes. "Just keep him out of trouble until I call back, okay?"

"Okay. And thanks, Bobby."

"Don't thank me yet. I haven't done anything." With that, Bobby hung up.

Sam shut the phone and turned back to the curtains, where Dean had made it about halfway up before getting his claws snagged into the material. The look he threw Sam was a mixture of "Get me down NOW" and "Please don't laugh right now, I feel bad enough as it is."

Sam ran his hands through his hair, and let his breath out with a soft whoosh. He walked over and gently unhooked Dean's claws and held the kitten to his chest. "What am I gonna do with you, huh? You may be smaller, but you're still gonna be a troublemaker, I can just feel it.

Dean squirmed a little in Sam's grasp to get a little more comfortable, and started to softly purr.

Authors notes: Well, what did you guys think? More to come. Feedback is (almost) better than chocolate!

Dean: Why do I always get picked on?

Sam: Because you deserve it. And the author did say she likes you.

Dean: Lucky me. Think what she must do to people that piss her off…