I done wrote myself a Christmas special. (Yes, I know it's gramatically incorrect) And a little late. I wrote this on New Year's Day... 'Cause I didn't have anything better to do. I attempted to make this humorous, but you might disagree and just find this meaningless and a waste of space. But that's okay.
Comments are appreciated. Enjoy.

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"Bah, humbug," Dean was saying as he hung some mistletoe over the kitchen doorway.

"Dean, where's your Christmas spirit?" Sam chastised.

"It sorta died when Daddy never hugged me."

Sam only rolled his eyes as he hung the lights on the freshly amputated tree.

The Winchesters were never terribly enthusiastic about Christmas. It was just another day and usually another hunt. However, this year was different. There was no hunt. The world wasn't in immediate peril, no damsels in distress needing to be saved. They actually had a chance to celebrate the holidays.

And Dean was not happy about it.

Christmas had been ruined for him when he was eleven. He didn't get a bike that year, like he wanted. Instead, he got a 12-gauge shotgun. And shooting lessons. It was not as cool as he'd thought it would be.

"Ow! Shit!" Sam suddenly exploded.

"What, what?" Dean asked, hurrying to his brother, almost hoping for some supernatural involvement.

"The light short-circuited and shocked me," Sam responded, nursing his mildly burnt hand.

"Pshaw, serves you right," Dean said, disappointed at his brother's mundane excuse. "Stupid Christmas," he muttered, stomping away. "What did it ever do for me?"

Dean went back to the kitchen where a store-bought pumpkin pie was waiting for him.

"What are you doing?" Castiel asked when Dean appeared.

"Whoa, shit!" Dean yelped, surprised by the angel's appearance.

Castiel only looked at him, waiting for an answer.

"You okay, Dean?" Sammy called from the living room.

"Yeah, fine, it's just Cas."

"What are you doing?" Castiel repeated.

Dean had his hand over his chest, trying to slow his heartbeat. "Give me a second, man. You just about gave me a coronary." Dean took a few deep breaths and, when his heart rate dropped to normal, responded. "We're decorating for Christmas." He said the word with disgust.

"Christmas?" Castiel asked, curious.

"Yeah. It's where we celebrate the supposed birth of Jesus Christ… With lights and turkey and crappy Christmas specials."

Castiel obviously had no idea what a Christmas special was, but chose not to ask. "Jesus Christ was born in April," he corrected.

"So? Doesn't mean we can't celebrate it. Call it a belated birthday party."

"Why are you decorating?"

"Because the more decorations you have up, obviously, the more you love Jesus."

Cas didn't catch the sarcasm.

When it was obvious that he thought Dean was serious, Dean said, "Look, I don't know why. This was Sammy's idea, anyway."

Cas only continued to look at Dean, not satisfied with his answers. After about a minute, Dean growled and called, "Sammy! Get your butt in here and explain Christmas!"

Sam was there in a second.

"Why are we doing this?" Dean snapped, impatiently.

"Because we never had a proper Christmas and I think, since we're not too busy this year, we should celebrate it," he explained as if it was obvious.

"You don't consider stopping Lucifer from rising and destroying mankind as being busy?" Castiel asked, his head tilted with curiosity.

Sam flushed. He knew the angel wasn't trying to be rude or anything, but he couldn't help but feel embarrassed. "Well, I, uh, er, didn't mean that. I, um, just meant that, er, there isn't an immediate threat."

"Lilith gets stronger everyday and is always plotting how to break one of the Seals. She won't stop just because it is 'Christmas'."

Sam remained silent, too terrified in the angel's presence to respond.

Dean sighed and answered for his brother. "We're taking a break. Lilith isn't making any moves, that we can tell, so we're just gonna take it easy. And we don't really give a damn if you have a problem with it. Now get the hell out of my way so I can eat my pie."

Castiel glanced behind him and saw the pastry behind him. He picked it up and inspected it. "Is this… food?" he asked.

"You've… you've never had pie?" Dean said, incredulously.

Castiel only shook his head.

Dean couldn't believe his ears. He took the pie from the angel and ushered him to the dining room. "Here, sit down," Dean insisted. He thought the angel might perish if he didn't have some pie in that moment. Dean cut a slice and placed it in front of the angel. He sprayed Reddi-Wip over it. "Eat it," Dean commanded.

Castiel scooped a piece onto his fork and, warily, brought it to his mouth. As he chewed, his expression changed from suspicious to delight. With vigor, he finished the rest of the pie, seeming thoroughly pleased at this new discovery.

"There!" Dean declared. "Now you've had pie."

"That was amazing!" Castiel marveled. "How do they get it to be so delicious?"

"Sugar," Dean responded shortly.

"I must tell the others!" Castiel announced, jumping to his feet. In a flash, he was gone in mid-air.

Sam only stared at Dean.

"No one can resist the awesomeness of pie," Dean shrugged.

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There you have it. The meaning of Christmas is pie. Or if you just have a pesky angel, that's how you get rid of him. But, really, who would want to get rid of Cas and all his angel sexiness?