Sunlight ¥ Dean Winchester [1]

66

Dean and Jessica had arrived at a small restaurant. Just as they parked, Sam and his new wife Becky were leaving.

Dean rolled his eyes as he watched them leave.

"Ridiculous." Dean muttered as Jessica and him got out of the car. They headed inside.

"Here." Dean lead Jessica towards the bar and sat down. He placed his fathers note book on the table. Ready to open it when something on the newspaper in front of him caught his eyes.

"Truck kills pedestrian in freak accident." Underneath it, it read, "Victim a recent lottery winner."

"I think we got ourselves a case." Dean smiled.

~<•>~

Dean and Jessica had left the small restaurant a few hours ago and were now at Beckys place.

"Do we really need to give them a gift?" Jessica asked.

"Honestly, not sure." Dean sighed. He was holding a waffle iron in his hands.

Jessica reached for the doorbell and pressed it. Seconds later, Sam opened the door.

"Me being supportive." Dean said as he handed the waffle iron to Sam. "Congratulations to you and the missus."

Sam gave Dean a small smile. "Thanks."

"It's a waffle iron." Dean said. "Nonstick."

Sam nodded his head.

"You know you just..." Dean started moving his hands as if he were actually using the waffle iron. "Actually I don't know how it works. Are we good?"

"Yeah." Sam nodded his head again.

"Good," Jessica and Dean walked into the small apartment. "'Cause Jess and I are sniffing a case in this town. Guy wins power ball, gets squished by a truck... second guy went from the bench to the majors. Oh, and one week later, his face was the catcher's mitt, huh?"

Suddenly, Becky's voice came from another room.

Dean and Jessica turned to face her. Sam walked into the room to stand next to his wife. Behind them, they had a whole bunch of leads pinned to a cork board.

"You two are working this case... together?" Dean asked.

Sam smiled. "Yeah, I know right? I mean, I guess all those Chuck Shurley books paid off."

Dean was beyond pissed. His eyes staring daggers at Becky.

"All right, listen, cookie, I don't know what kind of mojo you're working, but believe me, we'll find out."

"Dean," Sam spoke up. "That's my wife you're talking to."

"You're not even acting like yourself, Sam!" Dean barked.

Sam sighed and crossed his arms over his chest. "How am I not?"

"You married Becky Rosen!"

"What are you saying?" Becky exclaimed. "I'm a witch? Or maybe I'm a siren. Ever occur to you we're just—I don't know, happy?!"