Title: Opinions and Protection

Author: BlackWingedbird

Standard Dis, Language warning, no spoilers

Author's Notes: Not beta'd. Surprise! A Halloween fic without a plot. Shameless Winchester wrestling ahead.

Sam tore his gaze from the TV long enough to watch Dean open the door. A group of three pint-sized trick-or-treaters stood on the other side, goodie bags held open between their outstretched arms. "Trick or treat!" they chorused happily.

Dean sighed and grabbed a handful of the peanut M&Ms mini-bags. He held his hand out above the werewolf's bag and said, "Not enough teeth," then dropped a bag of candy. Above the zombie's bag he said, "Not green enough," and above the mummy's bag he said, "No such thing." The children looked at him somberly, questioningly, and Dean said, "Oh, right."

In each of their bags, he also deposited a packet of table salt, lifted from the table of the diner they ate at hours before. "Goodnight," he said, and shut the door.

"Critiquing six year-olds. Nice," Sam snorted, returning his gaze to 'The Nightmare Before Christmas'. "And the salt?"

"What?" Dean huffed, tearing open another bag of candy for himself. "If these ankle-biters are going to knock on my door, I'm going to give them my opinion and some protection."

"That's very big of you. I would've expected condoms."

"You've got plenty to spare, don't you?"

Sam bristled. "I wasn't aware that opinions were handed out for Halloween."

"I wasn't aware that motels are trick-or-treatable."

"Then why did you buy the candy?"

"To eat it!"

"Right." Sam shook his head, carefully keeping his eyes glued to the TV. "That's why you bought the mini bags."

"Dude, they were on sale. Why don't you shut up and watch your cartoon there, Junior?"

There was another knock on the door and Dean opened it, revealing a small boy in dreadlocks wielding a sword. Dean cocked his head. "Pirate?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow!" The boy crowed.

"Come again?"

The kid's face fell. "From the movie? Pirates of the Car-Carib… He owns the Black Pearl?"

Dean pointed over the kid's shoulder, to the parking lot. "See that? That's my Black Pearl."

The kid looked at the Impala, then back at Dean. "Can I have my candy now?"

Dean tossed a bag of M&Ms and a pack of salt at him. "Get out of here, pirate."

The door shut, and Sam shook his head. "You are demented, you know that?"


"You're messing with their heads! They're going to grow up to have multiple personalities or something."

"You grew up just fine."

"Yeah, because Dad was there to keep you in line."

Dean raised a finger and opened his mouth when there was another knock on the door. He yanked it open, glaring. "What?"

A large yellow sponge stared back at him. "Trick or treat?"

"What the hell are you supposed to be?"


"Sponge Bob?"


"Congratulations, kid. You're the scariest thing I've seen all night." Dean dropped the salt and candy into the bag and shut the door. "Kids these days," he sighed.

"For someone who has a personal vendetta with the Snuggle Bear, you seem to know very little about current pop culture."

Dean sighed and leaned back, inhaling another bag of M&Ms. "You're telling me that you know who Sponge Bob is?" Dean challenged.

"He's kinda unavoidable," Sam muttered, returning his attention to the TV. "And don't think I haven't noticed the line of salt in the doorway, either."

"What? You know as well as I do that we can't let our guard down."

"And the shotgun?"

Dean looked at the gun propped in the corner, concealed by the door when it was open. "You'll be thanking me when I save your whiney ass from a pissed off spirit," Dean grunted, grabbing more candy.

Sam swallowed. "Give me some of that before you eat it all."

"No. It's for the kids."

"For the kids, or for the immature?"

"Funny guy," Dean goaded.

There was a knock on the door and Dean smirked at Sam, then pulled it open.

A miniature Elvis stood on the other side, arms outstretched. "Trick or treat!"

Dean smiled. "Rock on, kid!" he said, high-fiving the child. "See this, Sam? There is hope for the future generation."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Here ya go, my man." Dean doled out a handful of candy and salt then patted Elvis on his shoulder. "Compliments of the Heartbreak Hotel. Enjoy."

The door shut and Sam glared at Dean. "Come on, gimme some candy."

"Come and get it."

"Just throw it to me."


Sam sighed and pushed off the bed. "Fine. I'll get it myself." He crossed the room and reached in the bag, but came up empty. "You ate it all? We only had ten kids stop by!"

Dean smirked, holding up one last, unopened yellow bag. "I didn't eat all of it."

Sam squared his shoulders.

Dean grinned.

Sam pounced but Dean was already gone, standing on the other side of the closest bed. "You're getting slow, Sammy," he taunted, waving the candy.

"You're acting like you're five," Sam grumbled, realigning himself for another attack.

"You were still in diapers when I was five," Dean shot back.

Sam lunged, stumbling through thin air as Dean jumped on the bed.

"Aw, is Sammy getting upset? Huh? Your ears are turning a little red there, sport. You want some candy? You gonna say please?"

"Go to Hell."

"You gonna take me there?"

Sam's gaze dipped to the bright yellow bag of candy. This was no longer about M&Ms. This was war.

He charged Dean, leaping up on the bed and sending them both crashing back against the thin wall. The cheap print hanging in between the beds dropped to the floor with a thump and someone next door shouted.

Dean grabbed Sam in a headlock, pressing him awkwardly against his side. "Come on Sam, show me what you got."

Sam balled his fist and slugged Dean as hard as he could in the side.

Dean twisted away without releasing Sam, using the momentum to slam his brother to the mattress.

Sam's sense of awareness turned inward and he swung out with his foot, connecting sharply with Dean's shin. Dean fell with a strangled yelp, landing on the floor with a loud crash as the picture frame shattered beneath him.

Sam froze. "God, Dean, I'm so-"

"You are so dead!" Dean growled, scrambling to his knees and pulling Sam over the side of the bed.

The back of Sam's skull connected with the thin carpeting and his brain reverberated, igniting sparks across his vision. Dean was above him, pinning him to the floor.

"Is this what you want?" Dean taunted breathlessly, waving the candy. "It's right here, all you have to do is take it…"

"Excuse me," a feminine voice interrupted, "We heard a lot of banging and my son opened the door… should I call the cops?"

Sam tilted his head back, studying the upside-down image of a young mother with her small Darth Vader. Dean leapt to his feet as if he were on fire.

"No, no cops. We're fine, really." He hid the package of candy behind his back.

Sam got to his feet, holding on to the bed as the room tilted. "He's just an idiot, we apologize for the noise." As expected, Dean shoved him. Hard.

The woman watched them a moment longer, one eyebrow raised apprehensively. "Okay then. We'll be going. And you might want to lock your door before you engage in those kinds of… activities."

With that, she was gone.

"Gimme that," Sam snapped, snatching the candy from Dean's limp hand. He started to open it then sighed, throwing it on Dean's bed as he sat on his own. "I'm not even hungry anymore."

Dean resumed his chair by the door. "That's too bad," he said, reaching for a paper sack on the floor. "I got plenty more where that came from."

Sam watched as Dean pulled a new bag of candy onto his lap, tearing it open with a crinkle.

As Dean started eating, Sam shook his head. "You're an ass, you know that?"

"Yeah? And you're a bitch. A bitch who watches cartoons."

Before Sam could defend himself, there was a gentle knock on the door and Dean opened it, doling out candy and salt as if nothing had ever happened.

With a sigh, Sam grabbed the M&Ms and turned his attention to the TV.