Disclaimer: Supernatural, The CW, Gossip Girl, or anything else you recognise in this fic does not belong to me.
Sam and Dean are in yet another seedy motel room with beds of a questionable nature. It's been almost a week since their last hunt, which by their standards went pretty well. In other words, nobody died. Ever since then however, it's been rather quiet on the Supernatural front. No ghosts who need to be salted and burned, no vampires to decapitate, although Dean has stated many a time that he'd love to decapitate Edward Cullen. Sam doesn't exactly disagree.
So there they are, laid out on their claimed beds, and what is it they are doing you ask? Why they are watching The CW. Yes they have reached a point where they are willing to watch TV that has a target audience of teenage girls. But alas, what else is there to do? That's Dean's reasoning anyway. Sam just suspects he wants to watch Brooke Davis. He thinks Dean has an odd fixation on the girl.
After a CW marathon of 90210, Gossip Girl and Supernatural (which received suspicious looks, after all, those two hunters look vaguely familiar), they are now watching One Tree Hill.
"Hey Sam, have you ever thought about acting?" Dean looks over at his brother and raises an eyebrow.
"No not really. I can't act, besides, when would I have the time between making sure you don't get killed, and keeping you fed?" Sam jokes, and sticks his tongue out at Dean.
"Real mature Sammy. I can feed myself just fine." He defends himself.
"Yeah right, which is exactly why you'd rather use "The Magic Fingers" then eat on a regular basis."
"It's not my fault! The fingers are genius. I wonder if I could have some installed in the car. That would be awesome." Dean smiles real big at the thought, while Sam rolls his eyes at his brother's antics.
They lapsed into silence for the remainder of the show. After it switches to a new show, the boys decide to go to the local diner.
While sitting in the booth eating the bacon cheeseburger, fries and beer (for Dean), and the salad, turkey wrap, and water (for Sam), Dean suddenly decides they are being too silent.
"Hey Sam, I was serious about earlier. With all the time spent impersonating federal officers, and getting away with it, I think you'd make a great actor. You should go and audition for a spot in a TV Show." Dean says, while nodding his head.
"Ok hypothetically of course, what role would you think I'd be good in?" He questions with a challenging look towards his older, but not wiser, brother.
Dean swallows his heart attack inducing burger and regards his brother with a thoughtful look. Suddenly he smiles, and Sam knows he's not going to like whatever comes out of his brother's mouth.
"I see you as a small town guy. You know in a perfect little town like Step ford. You'd have the small town girl as a girlfriend and you'd have the perfect little apple pie life." Dean nods his head with finality and returns to his food.
Meanwhile Sam sits across from his brother in absolute silence. For a few minutes, Sam quietly questions his brother's sanity, and without warning, promptly bursts out laughing.
"Are you serious?!" Sam's chuckles turn into full out laughter. Some fellow diner-goers turn to see what is so funny, and just end up shaking their heads.
"Sam, why are you laughing like that? Honestly, what is so funny about what I just said?" Dean looks confusedly at him. He gives up and shakes his head sadly at him, figuring he has completely lost his mind.
"Oh come on, can you seriously picture me even trying to pretend to be a "small town guy? That's more of a "maybe in another life time" kind of thing Dean." He smiles at his brother. Dean smiles back and agrees that maybe it would be a bit weird to see his hunter of a brother wearing sweater and khaki slacks.
After Dean stops heaving good natured insults at Sam about wearing paisley sweaters, they finish eating, pay the bill, and head back to the motel.
Later that night after they have both showered and have checked for any new hunts, they decide to watch a movie. What they turn on however, starts a whole new round of banter.
"Huh, so that's what you'd look like with a blue Mohawk." Sam jokes, while Dean scowls and throws his pillow at his head. Catching the pillow, he throws it back and every so often giggles at the image of his badass brother in a kilt and sporting a Mohawk.