John walked to the bar in the restaurant ordering a three fingers of whiskey. It had been Sam's idea to actually leave the cabin for a few hours. Jack and Dean jumped on it almost immediately, citing the fact that it was Christmas and they needed to get out of the two room hideout before they killed each other. Or John killed them, whichever came first. Plus, Sam and Jack had been working hard at Sam's training after getting their strength back. They needed to blow off some steam, Dean told John. Dean wanting to go out instead of staying cooped up from the world was a nice change back to their version of normalcy.

So he'd given in finding the only place open Christmas night. Just as John was starting to settle his nerves, letting himself start to relax, John felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Um sir, are those yours?" A waitress asked him, glancing nervously towards the back of the establishment.

"Not touching you can't do anything." John heard the words like a doom prophecy. He clenched his eyes tightly closed.

"Cut it out." Dean's growl cut through the air.

What did he do to deserve this?


AN: That's it for now. Planning a couple of one-shots in between this one and the next story. Namely, Sam's lessons, an extended Christmas fic fro this scene and a Jack vs. Cassie ficlet, just cause I really don't like Cassie. Lol. Oh and if you've never read my 'All These Things' drabble series, there are little extra scenes in that for t he Hunters series.

Happy Holidays, chickadees.