Disclaimer: Neither the boys nor anything related to Supernatural belongs to me. I'm just having some fun with the boys, playing around with Eric Kripke's sandbox.

THAT SLY DOG

By: Vanessa Sgroi

"So basically I found jack squat." Frustrated by his lack of progress, Sam balled up a piece of scrap paper he'd be writing on and tossed it at the trash can. The paper ball hit the rim before dropping outside the target. He watched as Dean stood and retrieved it, placing it down in front of him before return to his chair. Sam threw it again and frowned when the action was repeated. It was all too familiar from the last few days.

"I thought it wore off?" he said.

"What?" Dean returned, scratching vigorously behind his left ear.

"The spell—the dog connection thing—I thought it wore off."

"It did!" Dean switched hands and started in behind the right ear and his right knee began to bounce.

"Then what's with all the fetching and…err…scratching?"

"Oh, it's just some lingering aftereffects probably. It'll be fine."

Sam's frown lessened but only slightly. "Oookay." He made a mental note to make sure the aftereffects did indeed dissipate soon. "So back to what I was saying…" Sam returned to the topic he'd been addressing, only to break off a few minutes later when he noticed Dean didn't seem to be paying any attention to him. In fact, his brother was staring rather fixedly at his lap.

"Uhh, Dean?"

"Hmm?"

"What're you doing?"

"Just…um…I dunno…" Dean's gaze flicked to Sam and then back down to lap. "Thinking about…err… things."

"Thinking about things…" Sam puzzled over what could be so fascinating to Dean about his lap at that moment. Sudden knowledge hit Sam like a two-by-four. "Dean! You're not…I mean…you can't be thinking about…no."

Dean looked up and scowled. "I can't help it!"

"Dude, seriously, that's just…that's just wrong on every level."

"Yeah, but think about it, Sammy. If only guys could…"

Sam grimaced. "No…just no." The tall hunter scrubbed a hand down his face. "Listen, why don't you go get some sleep? With luck maybe by morning all the residual aftereffects will be gone."

Dean stood and stretched, yawning as he did so. "Yeah, all right. Maybe that's a good idea."

Sam watched as Dean walked away then attempted to curl into a ball in the corner of the couch. He rolled his eyes. "In the bed, Dean, in the bed—not on the couch."

"Oh. Right. Bed."

"Just remember—I have a rolled up newspaper and I know how to use it!"

FIN