They walked into the Polish diner, it was the only one left open in the small town, and they were seated and Sam pulled out the files from their latest case, ordered a salad and worked while Dean observed the surroundings. Sam vaguely registered that there was music playing in the background, but he was so immersed in his reading that he didn't hear or see Dean get up from the chair in front of him.

The music continued and when he looked up to tell Dean something about the case, he noted that his brother was absent from his seat. He looked around, sort of frantic, because Dean never just went missing. And when he turned around he saw the small group of older men who were in the most ridiculous costumes playing the tacky music that was surrounding the patrons, when he noted that his brother was in the center playing the accordion, and the older man whom Dean had obviously borrowed the instrument was clapping and stomping his foot in time to the rhythm.

Sam's mouth fell open and he blinked several times, rubbed his eyes, and tried to make sure that it was, in fact, his older brother up there playing the accordion; his rock loving, muscle car driving, leather jacket wearing brother. And he was. His leather jacket was slung over the chair and he was going to town on the accordion. And when the song was over, Dean took the instrument off and handed it back to the man with a clap on the shoulder and a smile of thanks, grabbed his jacket and came back to the table.

"What do we have?"


"The case? What's the deal?"

"Ummm….ghosts……you play the accordion?" Dean shrugged, and took a fry off o the plate that was in front of him. "You play the accordion?" Sam repeated.

"Jeeze Sam. One track mind much. So, the ghost, do we know where it's buried?"

"Accordion." Dean rolled his eyes.

"Yes, Sam. I can play the accordion. So what?"

"You. You don't' like that kind of music."

"I can make it play whatever I want to hear. I can do a mean Led Zeppelin."

"Where in the hell did you learn to play it?"

"New York."


"Well, when you were in college…."


"Okay, how do we get out to the middle of the field Dean? We can't drive the car through this terrain."

"We'll ride the horses."

"Horses? I don't know how to ride a horse and neither do you." Sam said incredulously.

"Yeah I do." Dean said as he entered the stable and coaxed one of the horses out of the stall, saddled the horse, and got on it. "I'll be fine, you can stay here, call me if something happens."

"Dean, come on, you really don't know how to ride a horse. Quit pretending. It's not as easy as it looks in the movies."

"I learned how to ride a horse Sam, please."


"Well…while you were in college….."


"Hey Dean?"

"Hmmm?" Dean said from his position on the bed reading a car magazine.

"Did you go out and buy new t-shirts?"


"This grey t-shirt, I thought it had a hold in it….did you go out and buy new shirts?"

"No, I didn't go out and buy any kind of clothes. You know I hate doing that. That's your job princess."

"Then how did this shirt get fixed."

"Maybe you were wrong. Maybe it was a different shirt. Come on, who cares?"

Sam looked at the stitching a little more carefully, and then looked up at his brother, his mouth agape. "Did you sew this?"

"What? No. Of course not!"


"Sewing is for chicks."

"Dean." Sam gave Dean the eyes that said he wasn't going to let this go. Dean sighed and threw the magazine down on the bed.

"Yes, fine. I did. Are you happy!?"

"This stitching is better than the rest of the shirt."

"So what?"

"You never knew how to sew like this before."

"I took a class. I was losing too many pairs of jeans."

"Took a class? When?"

"Well, while you were in college….."