Disclaimer: I'm still penniless and living in a box in an alley down and around the corner...in other words I have insufficient funds to own any of the Supernatural characters.

A/n: I'm only writing this so I can use the following line: "I'm a ninja!"

Ninjas in the Window, Coffee in the Fridge

The bartender just shook his head as he wiped a glass dry with a handy cloth. He really needed to find another job. Bar fights caused him to do extra work and frankly he wasn't up for it anymore. After thirty years of tending for the same bar, he was ready to retire and let some rookie bartender take over the messes.

Joe hated sweeping up the broken glasses and mopping up puddles of spilled alcohol. He hated the loud obnoxious men and their slutty girlfriends. The pool and card games were nice to watch; at least they were until the usuals figured out in their drunken haze that they had been hustled.

That was where Joe's job got hard. He wished the usuals would just pick their fights outside so he wouldn't have to clean up more than necessary. There was scrubbing the floor of bloodstains and talking to the police every Friday and Saturday night, telling them who started what and where. He could swear he was having windows replaced every two or three weeks.

Now Joe had to replace the windows, the door, six chairs, three bar stools, a table, numerous glasses and scrub a floor that looked like a bloody battlefield. He wondered what his boss would say if he just left now and never came back. Surveying his new task of cleaning, he seriously considered it.

Earlier that night

Dean sat on the edge of his bed flipping through his sad, nearly empty wallet. This was not good. If he didn't go out and win some money hustling, he and his brother would be in real trouble. "Sam, I'm going out."

"Why?" Sam called from his bed. He was unwilling to even lift his head to his brother in question.

Dean rolled his eyes. He and his brother have been in the hunting business how long now? Sam knew they had to make money somehow.

"Use your brains Einstein. When I say that I am going out, where do I usually go?"

Sam was so not in the mood for this. Two months had passed since his girlfriend had died and he really wasn't functioning. He had kinda hoped Dean would just stay with him, but he knew he wouldn't. Dean would probably think staying would set up a chick flick moment and his brother had a certain aversion to those.

"Um…out?" Probably to hustle, drink and pick up chicks. By all means, leave the guy who just lost his girlfriend all alone while you go out and get laid. Jerk.

"Sam you are absolutely brilliant." Dean snarked.

The younger brother just rolled over in the bed and curled up.

Poor guy, thought Dean. He had never hated the living in each other's pockets aspect of their lives, but he really couldn't take living in a moping Sam's pocket. It was really depressing.

The older hunter turned, grabbed his keys and started for the door when he had an idea. "Hey Sammy?"

"What?" Sam was secretly enjoyed hearing his nickname from his brother. It reminded him of pre-college times when he and his brother were thicker than thieves. Right now he felt like he and Dean were really good acquaintances, not the brother's or best friends they used to be.

If I can get him to come with me, it'll get his mind off things. The poor kid's gotta stop thinking about her. He's going to drive himself crazy. "How about you come with me? I could really use a partner tonight. Just like Dad taught us, y'know?"

Sam continued his silent grieving the best way he knew how. Face pressed in the pillow, blanket pulled up and over his head and knees pulled up to his chest. He finally answered his brother with a pitiful muffled voice. "I dunno. Maybe I should just stay here. I'm a little rusty. I might get in your way."

For someone that went to college, his brother sure could act stupid. "Get in my way? Come on Sam, we'll get you back in the saddle again."

The kid is going to suffocate himself in those blankets. Dean stared at the balled up form of his little brother and remembered Sam looking like that at six years old whenever he was upset. Things were so much easier back then. A hug and kind words did wonders back then. If Dean thought that would make Sam better now, he'd do it. Things were too difficult now; he didn't think what a ten-year-old Dean did to make a six-year-old Sammy feel better would work anymore.

Sam refused to rollover and see if his brother had his honest face or his I'm-lying-to-make-you-feel-better face on. He figured it was safe to assume his brother was lying and he continued to wallow in his grief.

"No thanks Dean. I'm just gonna stay here."

Dean was done playing nice. If Sam wasn't going to come willingly, then he would just have to drag his giant sorry ass out the door and shove it in the car. "Get your bitch-ass up and out the door Sam. Now!"

Sam sat up and stared at his brother incredulously. Did his brother seriously just order him around? Slowly, Sam peeled himself from the bed and began putting his shoes on. He stood and strode past his brother. "You are such a jerk."

Dean just smiled happily as he pulled the door closed behind him. "Glad you decided to come little bitch!"

To Be Continued.... Can't believe I feel the need to write a whole fic just so I can use a certain line... Someone just call the nice men in white jackets for me, huh?

BTW see that pretty little review box? push it. you'll like what happens if you do....