"So which ones do we need?"
"Uh…" Dean waited impatiently while Sam scanned the shopping list in his hand. "Two white unscented ones, three black…spice-scented ones, it didn't specify what spices but according to the wicca forum people have had the best results with warm, edible stuff like cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger. Two red ones, one of them cranberry-scented and one of them apple. And…a green pine-scented one, a purple one that can smell like anything, and a yellow one that smells like any kind of citrus but preferably lemon or orange. Apparently grapefruit can make things kinda weird. Basically, it'll work best if they're all traditional fall and winter scents."
"Okay." Dean scanned the store. They were getting some funny looks, but they'd sort of expected that- two big, rough-looking guys aren't the normal kind of clientele in a candles-soap-and-lotion type of store. He didn't really want to be there, either. The place looked like something pink and full of streamers had exploded in it. But they needed their ritual candles to have certain smells, and this was their best bet for a one-stop shop. "We've got white ones somewhere in the car. You start with the black and the red, I'll get the green, the yellow, and the purple."
They split up and started hunting through the shelves. Dean quickly zeroed in on a yellow candle in a jar and pulled off the lid. He wrinkled his nose. The label said it was something called 'Sunshine on Your Shoulders,' whatever the hell that meant. It definitely wasn't citrus.
An enormous sneeze from somewhere behind him rocked the store. He turned to look. Sam was hunched over with another jar candle in one hand, the other clapped over his mouth, looking mortified.
"Sorry," Sam whispered.
The women in the store went back to the lotion and shower gel displays. Dean wandered along the wall, reading the labels on all the green and yellow candles. 'Freshly Mown Grass in May,' 'Crème Brûlée on a Saturday Night,' 'Sunrise over Palm Trees.' Who the hell came up with these things? The last one sounded like it might actually have some citrus in it, though, so he picked it up.
Another gigantic sneeze rang out and Dean sighed, looking up to see what Sam had been sniffing this time. It was a black candle, and Sam was trying to shove it back onto the nearest shelf when another sneeze ripped out of him and he staggered backwards, right into a pyramid of bright little plastic bottles.
The pyramid went clattering to the floor and the bottles rolled everywhere.
"Oh, god. I'm so sorry," Sam said frantically, dropping to his knees and scooping up all the little bottles within reach. "I'm so sorry, I'll clean it up-"
Then he sneezed again, and dropped all the bottles in his arms.
"Oh, no, I'm so sorry!" Everyone was staring at him now. The girl from behind the counter had hurried out to help, but she hung back, eyeing Sam like he might have the plague. "I- I'll pay for anything that's damaged, I- ahchoo!"
This one knocked Sam backwards again, this time into a display table with neatly lined up ranks of lotion tubes. His impact shook the table and the lotions toppled forward onto his head.
Sam whimpered and wiped his streaming nose on his sleeve.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Alright, I think that's enough fun for one day," he said loudly. He waded through the mess and grabbed Sam by the arm, hauling him up to his feet. A lotion tube stayed balanced on his shoulder until Dean flicked it off.
"I'm really sorry," Sam said desperately to the checkout girl. "It was the candle-" Then he sneezed again, and stumbled sideways right into a tower of shower scrub jars.
Dean sighed and started dragging Sam bodily out of the store, pausing only when Sam tried to sneeze his lungs out again and knocked over a cardboard sign with his flailing arms. He pushed Sam down into the car, shoved his feet in after him, and slammed the door shut. By the time he made it to the driver's seat, Sam sat huddled in a pathetic, red-eyed mess, sniffing thickly.
"Sorry," he mumbled.
"Don't sweat it," Dean said gruffly. "You can't help being allergic to something. Which candle was it, anyway?"
"Um…I don't know. A black one with a really long name. Why?"
"Dude." Dean grinned, turning the car around a corner and peeling away from the stupid pink store. "That one little candle took you down like even Satan couldn't. I need one of those for the next time you get annoying."
Sam twisted in his seat and sneezed on him.