FLIGHT OF FANCY

WOW: pilot. Is there anything that could make Dean enjoy flying?

Disclaimer: I don't own them, and they really don't know what they're missing.

xxxxx

"Hey dude; remember, the pilot doesn't want to crash any more than you do," suggested Sam helpfully.

Shakily rubbing a sleeve across his sweat-dampened brow; Dean swallowed back a threatening nausea as his breath quickened into shallow gasps.

"Not helping Sam," he snorted, tightening his already iron grip around the arm-rests as the plane began to bank out of its climb.

"Is everything okay sir?"

The voice came from fuscia-pink lips framed by neat blonde hair and long-lashed cornflower blue eyes, brimming with concern.

Hourglass figure ...

Crisp, blue uniform ...

Long, slim legs ...

Okay ...

Maybe flying wasn't so bad after all.

xxxxx

end