Dean Winchester's Fitness Regime

Dean lay back, breathing hard and covered in sweat. "Wow." He breathed out. The blond haired woman beside him rolled over, and rested her head on his bare chest. "Mmmm, my thoughts exactly." Catching his breath, Dean was content to just lie there, as the woman lazily tracing designs over his well formed abs and pectorals.

After a moment of silent post-coital bliss, she raised her head to look at her partner's face. "I gotta ask, baby, what kind of workout program are you doing? Whatever it is, I want in! Do you have a personal trainer, or a specific gym routine?"

Dean smiled and kissed her. "Workout program?"

………….

Dean grunted as his shovel hit yet another rock. Who the hell decided to put a cemetery on top of a freakin' gravel mound! "Sammy, your turn!"

"Dude, you've only been down there ten minutes. Stop whining and keep digging, we gotta burn those bones by midnight and it's already ten pm!"

Growling obscenities under his breath, Dean bent back down in the grave and thrust his shovel into the rocky soil.

……………

"Shit, Sammy, are you okay?"

A strangled gasp came to his ears, and Dean rushed up the stairs which had descended from the trapdoor neither brother had known was there until a ghost popped out of it and grabbed Sam. He ran up the steep, narrow old steps, taking them two at a time, and leaping the last three into the attic to shoot the spirit with rock salt. Sam slumped to the ground, the spirit's chokehold dissipating with the rest of the apparition. He rubbed his sore throat. "Cutting it a little close, don't you think?"

"Sorry, it's not like there was a freakin' escalator."

…………….

A chilling howl filled the dark alley, and a creature more beast than man darted into the haven promised by brick walls and shadow-filled corners between dumpsters and trash bags.

"Oh no you don't, bitch!" Dean rounded the corner, close behind the werewolf, his weapon ready silver bullets and all. He was out of breath, having chased the creature five blocks from where he had saved a rent-boy from disembowelment. "Looks like it's a dead end." He smiled at his own wit. (Lame by Sammy's standards, perhaps, but perfectly fine for his, thankyouverymuch.)

The beast turned and prepared to attack, leaping towards Dean in a fluid motion. It fell back at the impact of three silver bullets, and naked man hit the filthy pavement, dead.

…………….

The table, probably from Costco judging by the rest of the house's décor, collapsed. Dean and his attacker rolled over the cheap wood splinters, far too preoccupied trying to inflict pain on each other to pay attention to that caused by the terrain.

"Sam!" Dean gasped, pulling his head out of the way of a left-hook with more enthusiasm than skill behind it. "Tell this guy we're not burglars!"

Sam was struggling with the other member of the household, a young woman in her late 20s, terrified but bravely defending her home with a frying pan and a kitchen knife.

"I'm trying, but I don't think they speak English!" Sam's reply was drowned out by the sound of shattering glass as the back of Dean's head met a very nicely framed picture with spectacular, if disastrous, results.

………………

"Workout program?" Dean echoed the question. "Well, you know. I'm on the road a lot, so I don't have much chance to get to the gym but I do what I can here and there. I guess it's mostly just good genetics and healthy living." He kissed her again, longer and more intensely than the previous kiss. "Besides, you don't need a personal fitness regime; you've got a perfect body already." And he proceeded to demonstrate just how much he admired her figure in ways she would dream about for weeks after she'd seen the last of him.

--

Dean crunched into his deluxe double-bacon cheeseburger, starving even though they had stopped for breakfast at a 7-11 not three hours ago. "Wuv ee ot?" He mumbled through the mouthful.

Sam stared at him in disgust at the huge, partially chewed, wad of food revealed by his brother's poor table manners. "How can you eat that? It's not even noon yet!"

The elder Winchester waved his hand in dismissal. "It's practically lunch time. Besides, I was hungry. Want a bite? It's really good." He held out the gigantic burger across the table.

Watching a pickle make a break for it, sliding out of the monstrosity to make a damp landing on the Formica tabletop, Sam swallowed a sudden wave of nausea. "No thanks." Regrouping, he carefully set up his laptop out of range of Dean's burger and flipped it open. Listening to his brother began to describe their next hunt, Dean munched away on his cholesterol extravaganza. He smirked to himself. Healthy living my ass.

A/N: I own nothing, so please don't sue, and a big thank you to all of my readers, especially those of you who review!