SPN Ficlet for Estrella
“God, this booth almost makes the last twelve hours worth it,” Dean sighed, slapping the menu down on the table.
“The seats are kinda cushy,” Sam acknowledged, eyes sliding down the menu board behind Dean. “But my thigh’s still a little sore.”
“Wuss,” Dean coughed.
“Hey, hey, I wasn’t the one complaining about my jeans getting soggy,” Sam warned. “Every hour on the hour,” he breathed.
“We were cramped down there for half a day,” Dean said. “I think we earned a few bitching rights.”
“Heya fellas, what can I get for you tonight?” the older, sweet looking waitress smiled down at them.
“Cheeseburger, everything on it, chocolate milk shake and uh–two slices of that pie up there,” Dean grinned, putting the menu back into place. “Please,” he finished.
“Turkey club on wheat and…uh, double order of french fries, please. And a coke,” Sam ordered.
Their dinners came in short enough order, and finally, finally, it was time for dessert. Dean stared hungrily at his plate, which the waitress had thoughtfully heaped with whipped cream.
“Oh, Sammy, I cannot wait for this,” Dean said, rubbing his hands only semi-exaggeratedly; this pie looked *awesome*.
“Can I have a bite?” Sam asked curiously, as Dean lifted a huge forkful to his mouth.
“Hell no, you can’t have any of my pi–” Dean started, and started chewing more slowly.
To Sam’s horror, Dean’s eyes started watering.
“Dean? Dean? Oh my God, are you okay? What’s wrong?” Sam looked around wildly, a thought forming in the back of his mind that maybe the waitress or the cook had slipped something in it, poison maybe. “Dean! Talk to me!” he yelled as Dean started gagging, grabbing a napkin and shoving it hurriedly against his mouth.
“It’s just..it’s really bad pie, Sammy,” Dean choked out, once he’d settled the napkin back on the table with a grimace.
“I–what?” Sam blinked, settling back into his seat, ignoring the stares of everyone in the diner.
“This is the worst pie I’ve ever had in my life,” Dean hissed, wiping his left eye angrily.
“It can’t be worse than Albuquerque,” Sam scoffed, eyeing the cherry pie gingerly.
“Oh, oh, but it is,” Dean said, shoving the plate at Sam.
“It’s not so bad,” Sam said, licking his lip.
“You only ate the whipped cream,” Dean glared.
“I’m working my way up to it, jeez!” Sam said, and shoved a small amount onto his fork.
“See? See?” Dean demanded triumphantly. “Worse than Albuquerque!”
“God, fine, it’s pretty…” Sam blinked, dazedly. He hadn’t known that pie could be made this badly. It was a little depressing.
“Heya boys, everything okay here?”
“Everything’s just super, ma’am!” Dean said. “My brother here just loves pie.”
“Well, aren’t you nice, letting him have yours.”
“I’m a nice guy, ma’am,” Dean nodded.
“Let me get you two the rest of that pie wrapped up for the road. It’s just not selling all that much today, but it’s on the house for you two.”
“Thank you,” Sam and Dean both beamed, absolutely still with horror in their seats.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Sam hissed once she was out of earshot.
“I’m not going to tell some old lady her pie’s the worst pie in creation!” Dean hissed back. “Why didn’t *you* say anything?”
“Same,” Sam sighed, forlorn. They both managed to smile again when she returned, and Dean eyed the trash can with longing as he hefted the pie on their way out.
“Maybe we can kill something with it?” Sam offered hopefully, taking the pie and putting it in the backseat.
“Ha, like an ‘eat shittastic pie, demon spawn’ deal? I like it,” Dean said, pulling out, wincing at the $1.98 slice of pie sign in bright red in the diner’s window.