A/N: I swore I wouldn't. This was supposed to be done. Blame Sylia91, Necro Omen13, Fhaydel and Jasper03. They plugged the little light bulb in my head back in.

Also I own nothing save a half empty bottle of O.P.I. "Pumpkin Butter" lotion. But if I did…



Intensely weary after being dragged into Canada and back in less that three days he is more than happy to lay his head on even the lumpiest motel pillow.

Just as he settles into his bed and is finally drifting off a light invades his consciousness.

He rolls over. "Dude! The hell are you doing with the laptop on? I know you're not checking for cases now."

"Nah. Just dicking around. Go back to sleep Sammy."

"I never got to sleep. And am I ever going to be old enough for you to quit calling me Sammy?"


Sam grumbles to himself as he pulls the comforter up over his head. Just as he's drifting off again….

"Hey Sam-my you still awake?"

"I wouldn't be if you would just shut up."

"What's slash?"

Sam bolts upright. "What are you doing exactly?" He shifts trying to see the computer from where he is. Wide awake now he starts to panic. I'll never sleep again.

"I found this website about Fandom writers or something like that. Anyway apparently there are people who sit around writing stories about all kind of T.V. sh….HEY!"

Sam gently but firmly closes the laptop then he lifts it slowly and jerks the power cord from the wall. It snaps satisfyingly.

"What are you doing!"

"I'm saving us both." He opens the door and walks outside, hoists the slim black computer over his head and slams it as hard as he can against the concrete. It crunches and shatters.

"Son-of-a-Bitch! What's wrong with you?" Dean stands looking flabbergasted in the doorway. "Are you insane?"

"Not as insane as I would be if I ever let you touch a computer again." Sam pushes past him. He returns seconds later with Dean's Colt 1911 silencer already attached. He kicks the computer onto the patch of grass that lines the walk and unloads all 7 rounds into it. Finally satisfied he picks it back up and deposits it in the garbage. With an angelic smile on his face he almost skips back into the room and falls back onto his bed.

"Really? How are we going to do research now Ace?"

Sam turns his back on Dean flapping one hand over his shoulder at him. "At the library like we used to before they made portable computers. Goodnight Dean."


Dean waits till Sam's breathing becomes slow and even then he tiptoes out to the Impala. He opens the trunk and pulls out the false bottom. There underneath an aged tarp lays a box.

Inside it is a brand spanking new Apple MacBook Air.

He glances at his watch the time is 12:03 a.m.. The date is May 2nd.

He smiles humming under his breath. "Happy Birthday Sammy."