PUDDING!

WOW: merry and bright. Sam's ideas for a new Christmas treat meet a probably not entirely unexpected hitch.

Disclaimer: I don't own these boys

xxxxx

Sam's shoulders slumped as he stood staring forlornly at the incinerated remains of the table where he, Dean and Castiel had, but a moment ago, been sitting; the three of them merrily tucking into Christmas dinner.

He stood beside the smouldering crater where it used to be, along with a moderately singed, scowling brother and a smoke-damaged and newly-eyebrowless angel, coughing through the blue haze of smoke which coiled lazily around the room.

Closing his eyes, he sighed as the blackened shell of the bunker's Christmas tree crumbled into ash behind him.

He'd thought it would be cool to try something new for Christmas, and the idea had come from an article in the recipes section of the local newspaper. Christmas pudding soaked in flaming brandy was, apparently, a British treat and Sam had been intrigued; especially as the article included a mouth-watering picture of a rich, succulent pudding topped with dancing blue flames and surrounded by a riot of brightly coloured fruit and berries.

It looked delicious and fun, and very, very indulgent. Even better, it looked easy to make.

What could possibly go wrong?

Well, for a start, you could be stupid enough to put Dean in charge of the flaming.

xxxxx

end