Twenty Bucks
K Hanna Korossy

Dean straightened hastily as Sam flung the auction house door open. "Well?"

"The painting's back," Sam said flatly, not slowing his stride across the parking lot.

"What do you mean, back?"

"I mean, it's like we never burned it, Dean. I just saw it back in the frame."

"Huh." Dean digested that, hurrying to keep pace with a stride Sam wasn't shortening, for once. "So, no second hot date with Sarah?"

Sam glowered at him over one shoulder.

"Can I have my twenty back?"

Sam flipped him his answer.

00000

A phone call was only so reassuring.

Dean's heart didn't really slow until he screeched up in front of the house and saw his tired but intact brother and Sarah sitting on the front step. He jogged instead of ran up to join them. "You two okay?"

Sam nodded, and Sarah gave Dean an only slightly wobbly smile. He didn't miss that his brother's arm was around the girl's shoulders.

Dean eyed them, not sure what the protocol was when Sam brought a date to a hunt. "So…ice cream?"

Sam snorted. "I think we better just take Sarah home."

"Okay," Dean agreed. Then leaned back against the stone pillar because no one seemed in a hurry to move.

Sam looked up at him through sweaty, tousled bangs, and Dean couldn't help wonder what girls saw in the goofball. Then he noticed what his brother was holding up. "I think I owe you this."

Dean chuckled, taking the twenty. "You're welcome."

Sam's arm tightened around Sarah. "Thanks," he said quietly.

Okay, so maybe the kid was a catch, after all.

00000

"I didn't think you had it in you," Dean said when he couldn't resist any longer.

Sam settled into the seat like pouring water, as relaxed as Dean had seen him since, well, Jess. "It was just a kiss." But his finger moved thoughtfully over his swollen lips, cheeks still faintly colored.

"Uh-huh," Dean said wisely. "Where are you gonna take her next?"

"Assuming we're still in town," Sam muttered.

"Assuming we're still in town," Dean agreed. He had an idea about that. "You could take in a movie. You can get away with a lot in the dark." He grinned at Sam.

Who couldn't help the flush. "We're…it's not like that."

"What, you're not hot for her?" Dean snorted. "Dude, I've seen the way you keep checking her out. And that kiss?" He shook his head. "Man…"

Sam gave him a withering glance, not that much made Dean wither. "Shut up."

"Here," Dean pulled something out of his pocket and passed it over. "I'll even chip in."

Sam rolled his eyes when he saw the twenty. "Thanks, Dad."

Dean tucked it smoothly into the pocket of his brother's shirt. "Don't kid yourself. Dad would've given you a condom."

He didn't try too hard to understand what Sam was muttering under his breath, just grinned.

00000

The CSI people were dissecting another body in their moody blue-lit morgue, getting everything wrong as usual. Dean flicked off the TV with a disgusted sigh and grabbed his jacket. Enough with the brooding housewife act. He'd passed many a very pleasant evening without Sam and could do so again for one night while Sam went on his date. No reason Dean couldn't find some female company of his own.

He stood in the doorway a moment, staring at the Impala as he juggled his keys in one hand, before he turned away and shut the door again. His heart wasn't in it, not tonight. It just felt…cheap somehow, getting laid while Sam was pursuing young love. Stupid and sentimental, maybe, but there it was.

Dean blew out a breath and threw himself back on the bed, reaching for the weapons bag. He hadn't finished sharpening their knives, and the sound of metal on whetstone was always soothing.

There, resting neatly on top of a pair of handguns and a bottle of holy water, was a flattened twenty.

Dean grinned at the bill. "Freak," he muttered fondly, putting the money away. Then he pulled out his tools and dug in, losing himself in the work until Sam came home.

00000

He was trying to ignore the TV, he really was. Sam buried himself a little deeper in his book.

"Holy cow!"

Sam looked up. Stared at his brother, who was staring at the TV. "Did you just say, 'holy cow'?"

"Yeah." Dean's look was pure innocence. "Saw one once down in Pennsylvania. Gave blessed milk and everything."

Sam stared some more. "You are so wrong."

A dazzling grin. "Gee, Sammy, you just figuring that out now?" Then, "Dude, seriously. I think I just found our new gig."

"Possessed cows?"

"Nope. Possessed racehorses. Try to keep up, Sam."

He shut his book with a sigh, rising to retrieve the laptop. "Where?"

"Saratoga Springs. It'll even keep us in the area so you can hang out with Sarah some more."

Sam opened the laptop, automatically catching after something that fluttered out of it. A folded twenty-dollar bill. And in it…he felt his face go red at the sight of the foil packet. "I hate you."

Dean's face would break if he smiled any harder. "What? I'm just trying to keep yousafe."

He was laughing too hard to dodge the pillow Sam threw at him.

00000

"Sam? Sammy!"

He groaned, reaching up to where it hurt. Or to try to find where it hurt, because his whole head felt broken.

A hand gently but firmly caught his and draped it over his stomach. Which hurt, too. "Don't touch, Sammy."

"What hit me?" he asked groggily. The last thing he remembered was…something flashing at him.

"Uh…a horse, actually. Those things kick—you're lucky it just grazed you."

"Yeah," Sam's voice fell to a whisper to keep his head from shaking apart. "I feel lucky."

"Wait'll the room stops shifting, then we'll get you out of here, okay? Tylenol, a soft bed, you'll be good as new, and I'll bet Sarah wouldn't mind playing nurse, too." Dean's hand in his hair felt like it was keeping his skull in one piece, especially when it slid back to curve around the back of his head.

Sam murmured faint unhappiness, then fumbled for his pocket.

"What're you—?"

He pressed the twenty against Dean's jacket, releasing it when Dean automatically reached for it.

"What, now you're paying me to look after you?"

Sam's eyes slid shut. "Just take it." He didn't feel like explaining what he didn't even know how to.

Dean's hand slid down to rub his jaw. "Rest for a few minutes, Sammy."

Maybe Dean did understand.

00000

Dean was just opening the last container when Sam stirred, then squinted up at him.

"How're you feeling?"

Sam snuffled, face scrunching as he self-assessed. "Okay," he finally decided, gingerly pushing himself up and fingering the knot on the back of his head. "Ow."

"Don't poke at it," Dean said mildly. "You hungry?"

"Yeah, actually." Sam pushed himself to his feet, wincing, then his eyes widened as he noticed the spread on the table. "You've been busy."

Dean gave him a minute to register the offerings. Watermelon, bagels, tea, pancakes, hashbrowns, and other fresh fruit and coldcuts: Sam's favorites. "I had some extra cash," he finally answered.

Sam smiled, happy and genuine, and gave him an embarrassingly fond look. "Twenty bucks?"

Dean grinned back as he offered him a spoon. "Hey, what can I say, dude? You're a cheap date."

The End