Just a bit of Thanksgiving Day drabble on my part.

Summary:: Sam can't find his Jacket and Dean has bad aim.

Warning:: Implied Wincest so rated M for my peace of mind.

Word count:: 402

Disclaimer:: Sadly, I do not own them. But as do all WINCEST authors, I so wish I did...Damn you Kripke...Uh! I mean...nope. Damn you. XD


Sam was rummaging through his bag of recently clean clothes in search of his favored jacket. "Dean, do you know where my Carhartt is?" Over his shoulder he heard Dean stand from his bed, "The hooded sweatshirt, or the Duck Jacket?" Was the answering question, "Because the Jacket got tossed aside in the car," He heard his brother grin around the words at the memory, "and the sweatshirt got ripped off and thrown off in some random direction when we came in." Of course Dean would know that. He had been the one disrobing Sam at the time. "Oh and then the flannel got ditched with the tee as well. Though I do know that the jeans and boxers were thrown to the foot of the bed." Sam had emptied his duffel by now as Dean ended his explinations.

"So in other words, you don't know where the sweatshirt is?"

"Nope. Sorry Sammy."

The taller shook his head as he turned to face his brother. Dean stood in front of the TV now with his back to it, looking at Sam. Green eyes twinkled with a grin as he recalled the events of last night. Sam just shook his head with a light laugh and a grin. It was at that moment that tri-toned eyes landed on the standing lamp beside the TV.

Hanging quite precariously by a sleeve and the hood was a grey-ish white article of clothing. "Wow." He crossed his arms over his chest now and Dean turned to look where Sam was staring.

"Huh." Dean cocked his head to the side. "My aim sucks."

"You were aiming?"

"Yeah, for the chair."

Both looked to Sam's left at the blue overstuffed chair. "The TV's nowhere near the chair, so I'd say so." He chuckled a bit, "Not that you could help it, you did have your back to the room."

"Yeah, and yours to the door."

Dean seemed lost in memory again so Sam just shook his head and stepped around the elder to retrieve his sweatshirt. As he pulled it on Dean snapped out of his reverie, "Pack up Sammy, Bobby wants us to come home for Thanksgiving." Sam was smiling as he walked back to his bed.

Five minutes later, their bags packed and weapons stashed again, The Winchester Brothers climbed into Metallicar, gunned her engine and tore out of the parking lot heading Home for Thanksgiving.


R&R Please~ Reviews = luff. And Luff = more stories. And yes, I am still working on my other one. I just had to get the drabble out of my head. XD

Love and Good Reading~

NeoCortex~