ON THE BALL

WOW: slip. For the lovely CFEditor's birthday, some especially sweet Sammy for your big day!

Hunting for clues on their latest job, Sam comes across something far more interesting.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, wishing on a star didn't work.

xxxxx

" ... It's Sam Winchester with the ball, slipping past the Brazilian defenders ..."

" ... With supreme skill and speed, he's brushing them aside with impunity ..."

" ... HE SCORES IN THE GAME'S DYING SECONDS ... "

" ... SAM WINCHESTER EARNS HIS PLACE IN THE PANTHEON OF SOCCER LEGENDS AS USA BEAT BRAZIL IN THE WORLD CUP FINAL ..."

xxxxx

The roar of the crowd faded into birdsong and a distant thrum of traffic as Sam stood, gazing wistfully at the abandoned soccer ball nestling in the undergrowth before him.

Bleached by sunlight, and slightly flat, it gazed back up at him.

Smiling, he picked it up and tossed it into the Impala's trunk.

xxxxx

end