Disclaimer: If they were mine, they would have hugged by now.

Rated for language. What can I say, Dean just isn't a "Gosh darn it all to heck" type of guy.

Summary: On a rare day off, Sam chooses the activity and Dean is not amused.

A/N: Blame Cheryl and Faye for this one. Leave it to them to suggest turning my vacation into a fic.

"Hacker"

"Tell me what I have to do again?"

"I already told you, Dean. Aim for its mouth and shoot, just like I did."

"Aim for its mouth?"

"Well, yeah. How else do you expect to beat this thing?"

Dean shrugged and eyed the creature before him. "Well isn't there a way around it? That thing's pie hole looks awfully small."

Sam rolled his eyes and leaned against the unsteady wooden fence. "Come on, man. I did it. Now it's your turn."

Dean sighed, lined up his shot, and fired.

He frowned as his shot sailed wide. "I thought you said this was easy!"

"It is! Take your time and shoot again."

Cursing under his breath, Dean collected himself and tried again.

His target was reached on the second shot and Sam smiled.

"See? I told you it was easy. Now we move on to the next one."

Dean followed his younger brother and came to a stop in front of a small cave opening. He took a quick glance at his surroundings and noted the various cobwebs lining the walls and ceiling. The cave appeared to have been abandoned for quite some time.

The older brother stepped in front of Sam and made his way through the cave.

"No Dean, don't!" Sam caught up to his brother and grabbed his arm.

"What the hell, Sam?"

"Come back outside. You've got to make your shot from there."

"What for? If I shoot from in here, there's no way I could miss the damn thing."

"If we want to beat this thing, we've got to be precise. You need to come with me back to the entrance of the cave."

Dean, clearly unhappy with his brother's "by the book" mentality, sighed a little louder then necessary and followed behind Sam.

The younger brother readied his stance on the moss-covered ground and took his shot.

Dean watched in amazement as Sam's target was reached on his first attempt.

"How the hell, Sam?"

"It's not that hard. Now you go."

"Not that hard? That cave is practically pitch black, dude."

Dean stepped to the same moss-covered area where his little brother had fired off his shot. Keeping his eye on his target in the distance, the older hunter readied, aimed, and fired.

The faraway sound of splashing water was nearly drowned out by Sam's howling laughter.

Dean scowled. "Where the hell did it go?"

Sam, doubled over by his brother's misfortune, struggled to catch his breath as he answered. "It…it went in the water…instead of…"

Sam was nearly rolling on the ground by the time his older brother realized what had happened. Dean was clearly not amused.

"Aww shit, Sam! I need that back!"

"So go get it."

"I'm not getting my boots wet."

"You don't have to, dumbass. It's not deep. Just reach in and grab it."

"You reach in and grab it."

"Oh my God, Dean." Sam stalked off towards the shallow stream, rolled up his sleeve, and pulled the small, round object from the murky abyss. "Here, you big baby. Now try again."

"What? Why? Can't we just forget about this one, Sammy?"

Exasperated, Sam grabbed his brother by the elbow and dragged him off to the next waiting creature.

Dean came to a halt mere feet from the hideous witch. Her hair was long and stringy, her face and hands were covered in warts, and rather than holding her broom at her side, she twirled it in her fingers as if to taunt those who dared to cross her.

"You ready, Dean?"

Startled, Dean looked up at his brother and frowned.

"Ready? To face her? You're kidding me, right?"

"Come on, bro. It won't be that bad. We've faced worse."

"But Sam…"

"I'll go first, okay? You just do what I do."

"Sam?"

"Come on, Dean."

"Saaaaaaam…"

"What's wrong now?"

"What if…"

Silence.

"Dean, spit it out, man."

"What if our balls get stuck in her broom or something?"

Sam snorted. "I'm not gonna lie to you, man. It's a possibility. But we'll just yank them out and keep going."

"Shit, Sam…"

"Come on, man. At this rate, we'll be here all day."

"All day? Why? How many more of these bitches do I have to face?"

"There's eighteen in all."

"Eighteen? Sam!"

"Hey, you agreed to this, remember?"

"I only did it to shut you up. I didn't know I was agreeing to this!"

"Admit it. You're having fun."

The truth was, Dean was enjoying himself. But more importantly, Sam was having a good time. Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd heard his Sammy laugh in such a carefree way, and he would gladly spend everyday serving as the butt of Sam's jokes if it meant preserving the smile on his little brother's face.

Not that Dean would ever admit it.

"This is the last time I let you drag me to a friggin' miniature golf course."

end

A/N: As an avid Supernatural fan, imagine my excitement when I came across "Graveyard Golf" down the Jersey shore. From the gigantic vampire to the creepy cave to the ghouls and goblins, this place just oozed Sam and Dean. And when Cheryl and Faye separately suggested I turn my golfing experience into a fic, it was pretty tough to say no to. It's all their fault.

Hacker: n. A golfer who is not very skilled.