A teeny-weeny little one-shot in tribute to the mighty Dean Winchester's birthday!

Sam plans a special birthday treat for his brother ... but he's got to get it absolutely right!

Disclaimer: don't own them, yes I know - it sucks!


Sam knew the rules.

In truth, he thought they were rather silly, but that was not a view he'd ever dared to share with his brother.

He knew those rules had been laid down over a lifetime's experience and that the ritual had to be performed properly, anything less that perfection meant the whole experience would be tainted.

He knew the gravity of his task; and he knew that failure was not an option.


Firstly, the pie had to be warm; not so hot that a guy had to sit like a lemon and stare at it for ten minutes before he could dare to put it anywhere near his mouth, and not cold. Certainly not cold enough to cause a chill as it worked its way down to it's final resting place; namely Dean's empty and highly appreciative stomach.

The fork had to be metal; not some bit of plastic crap that wasn't man enough for the job of breaking through a thick layer of firm, buttery pastry and knives were NOT permitted under any circumstances. Any man worth the gonads nature had blessed him with would rather stick his face in the bowl and snaffle his pie au naturel than be seen using a knife and a fork to eat it.

Now, the cream was vitally important.

Real cream was the best; a semi-solid dollop of fresh cream spooned straight out of a new tub, still cold from the grocery store refrigerator was the king of accompaniments; although the runny double cream stuff was ok too. At a pinch, that squirty stuff out of the can was permissable if it was a choice between that or nothing.

What you absolutely did not do was soil a perfectly good slice of pie with that runny yellow crap.

Custard? Blech! Damn stuff was the work of Lucifer himself.


Sam knew if he got it wrong, the penalties would be harsh. He could expect an evening of relentless torment, a cold shower and laundry duty for the next week at the very least.

But to get it right …

A look of sublime euphoria played over Dean's face, as he subsided helplessly into the couch, licking stray drops of cherry juice from his smiling lips and softly rubbing his satisfied belly.

Sam, cleared the empty plate away and smiled as Dean's eyes drifted closed with a quiet groan.

"Thanks S'mmy… that's the best pie ever," Dean mumbled contentedly; "best birthday ever."

And the rewards didn't come much better than that!