Author's Notes: Just a little ficlet dedicated to… us! All the fanfic writers out there, and one in particular – this one's for us, gang!

Disclaimer: Sam and Dean don't belong to me. Neither does the fic writer mentioned herein. Which is probably a good thing for everybody.

Spoiler: Takes place after "The Monster At The End Of This Book"
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When Sam exited the bathroom, hair slightly damp, sweatpants hanging low around his hips, he noticed three things right away.

The cover of his laptop was open – just a crack, but open all the same.

Dean was relaxing on his bed, the newspaper spread out before him, reading intently…

…and his big brother was simply radiating guilt.

Sam's hazel eyes narrowed, a muscle in his jaw twitched. If he's locked it up on another porn site I'm gonna kick his –

Sam's thoughts came to a screeching halt as the computer screen booted up and he started to read. He could hear Dean get up from the bed, knew his brother was now standing beside him with that "kid with his hand in the cookie jar" look on his face.

"Sam, I can explain –" Sam held up his hand for silence, read some more, eyes growing wider by the second. He turned around and gaped at Dean.

"A Fan Fiction site? You found a Fan Fiction site for those 'Supernatural' books?!"

"Actually I found a few. Got them from the site you were looking at before. This one was the easiest to figure out."

Sam fell into the chair and threw his head back, laughing. Dean took the fact that he wasn't getting yelled at as a good sign, so he pointed at the screen. "Check out this author" he said, the excitement building in his voice, green eyes sparkling.

"DeansBabyBird" he read the screen handle, and a grin curled his lips.

Sam blinked. "That's quite a name. Wonder what it means."

"Dunno. I like it, though. Makes me smile for some reason."

Sam looked at the number of works under the author's name, gave out with a whistle. "Dude, this person's got a ton of stories!"

"Yeah, I know! I've read one of them, and she's really good."

"And they're all about us?"

"Yep. Although she does seem to be pretty sweet on me." Dean tossed his brother a cocky smirk. "Which just goes to show she's a lady of class, taste, and style…"

"Who's never actually had to sit down and eat with you, or THAT opinion would change pretty damn quick…"

Dean flipped him off, but he was still smiling, so Sam didn't mind. "Actually, bro, would it be okay if I used your laptop for a little while longer? To look through the rest of her stuff?"

Sam cocked an eyebrow, looked up at Dean in surprise. "Sure, no problem. Um, if you don't mind my saying, Dean, I thought you'd find this kind of thing really weird."

"Well, I kinda do. I mean, like our lived aren't screwed up enough, people gotta write down stuff about other fuglies we've gotta waste? I know its nuts – it's completely freaking insane. But some of these people, people like her…" Dean gestured at the computer screen, like the author was sitting there, "they seem like they know us. That what we're doing is right." A slight flush came of over Dean's features.

"That we really are the Good Guys" his voice had gotten soft and a little sad.

Sam got up from the chair. "Knock yourself out, Dude," he said with a warm smile.

Dean's smile back was just as bright as he settled down in front of the laptop, gazing over the stories with the air of someone trying to find the very best candy in a box of chocolates. "Let's see", he mused. "Where to start? 'The Twelve Saves of Christmas? That sounds interesting…" He clicked on the story, and quickly became totally engrossed.

Sam had picked up the newspaper, walked over to his own bed and stretched out his long frame with a sigh. He flicked through the paper, every now and then glancing over at Dean. His older brother had barely moved since he'd started reading the fanfic, other than the occasional snort of laughter or mutter of approval the story's progression.

And it's keeping him from going out and drinking himself into a stupor, mused Sam with a grin. So for that, thanks a lot DeansBabyBird, and all you other Deangirls. He shook his head and smiled as he turned back to the newspaper.

I wonder what those Samgirls have written about me. Maybe I should see about registering at that site, just to keep an eye of things, of course…