Dean Winchester exited the Impala with a sigh of distaste as he took in his surroundings.
"Man, I hate small towns." He grumbled.
"Dude, you lived in one." Sam replied, unfolding himself from the passenger seat and stretching.
"Maybe that's why." Dean growled before shutting his door and taking a second look around.
They had parked in front of one of the prim little shops lining the main square, whose decorative piece was a large white gazebo. The inhabitants of the little podunk town strolled lazily along the sunlit sidewalks, chatting with those they passed and gossiping on the street corners.
"So, this demon... You think it's here?" Sam asked as Dean locked the car and they began walking towards the diner they had seen on their way in.
"That's what Dad's journal said." Dean replied. "We just gotta find the damn thing."
"Shouldn't be too hard." Sam said, eyeing a gossiping knot of older women as they passed by. "In a town this small?"
They arrived on the main corner in front of the diner.
"Star's hollow." Dean said, looking at the welcome sign down the street. "Sounds small."
"And pagan in origin." Sam added. Dean gave him a look. Sam shrugged, then turned and opened the door to the diner.
Inside, it was busy. One guy in a baseball cap and a flannel shirt ran around taking orders and filling up coffee. Dean and Sam walked in, looking for a place to sit.
"Dean, you know we don't serve bikers." The man in the baseball cap barked.
Dean looked around quickly, perplexed before Sam nudged him, giving him the 'you're-a-rockhead-Dean' look.
"I'm not a biker!" Dean protested. "I drive an Impala and wear a leather jacket because it suits my muscular form."
"Yeah whatever. What do you want to eat?" Baseball cap said.
Dean opened his mouth but was cut off by the door opening behind him and a tall brunette shoving her way past him.
"Luke! Coffee!" She said, throwing herself onto one of the only empty stools at the counter.
"Now tell me that isn't fair." Dean said to Sam, pointing to the woman.
"It's not, but okay." Sam said. Dean's eyes fixed pointedly on the woman's ass, and he grinned.
"Lorelai, you're rude. For that you have to wait." Luke said, pulling out a rag and gesturing to a table that just cleared. Sam and Dean sat down while he wiped it down.
"But Luke, I thought you didn't serve bikers. Even if the biker is Dean's friend." The woman said, eyeing them and pouting.
"My name is-" Dean started.
"Dean's friend wears leather and drives an impala for kicks. Nose out, Lorelai." Luke said. His annoyed expression didn't change.
"Hey, listen I-" Dean began.
"I don't have time to listen to you. Dean, you know the drill. Pick a food and eat it." Luke cut him off, looking pointedly at Sam.
"Two ham and eggs." Sam said, handing back the menu as Dean opened his mouth to protest.
"Dude!" Dean hissed as Luke walked away. "You're playing into their crazy mind games! They know my name and they're calling you by it! Not okay!"
"It's weird," Sam said manner-of-factly, looking around. "But the only crazy thing here is you."
"So, Dean..." Lorelai said, sliding off her stool with a cup of coffee in hand and walking over. "I didn't know you had biker wannabe friends."
"Hang on, lady. The biker wannabe is the one named Dean. And I don't-"
"Dean has a friend named Dean? Wait till Rory sees this! I have to go get her. Don't move a muscle!" Lorelai dropped her cup of coffee in front of Sam and dashed out the door.
"I'm thinking that there's a mix-up somewhere..." Sam said, watching Lorelai leave. "They seem to think that my name is Dean, too."
"That's not okay, cowboy! I'm the only Dean around here." Dean growled.
"Dean!" A fat old man with graying hair swooped in, the door banging shut behind him. He descended on their table like a rabid wolf.
"I step one foot out of the store to go on my morning constitutional, and next thing I see, you leave the shop to come have lunch with a biker!"
"What?" Sam asked, confused.
"Dean, I thought you were a hardworking young man, but this is unacce-"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa.. Hold up here. My name is Sam. Sam Winchester." Sam said, holding up his hands in defense. "This," he gestured to Dean, "is my brother. His name is Dean."
"You can stop with the games any time you like, Mr. Forster. I expect to see you back at my shop immediately." The man banged his way out of the diner.
"Okay, I'm officially weirded out." Sam said, turning back to Dean. "Who is this Dean Forster guy?"
The owner of the restaurant came back, carrying their food. He dropped it in front of them and slouched off.
"I say we eat our pig and get the hell outta here." Dean said in a loud whisper.
"But what about that demon, Dean? The time of haunting is almost here. We can't let Stars Hollow get burnt to the ground again."
"So what? These people are seven kinds of crazy anyhow!"
"They're people, Dean. You can leave, but I'm taking care of the demon." Sam said, taking a bite of his eggs as if that settled the matter.
"Fine. But if they keep calling you Dean I'm going to hit something." Dean glowered, stabbing his slice of Ham moodily.