Winchester, Virginia

"So all of a sudden people started to see this man – one of the first Scots-Irish in Virginia, you said?" Dean looks up briefly from the files he's been reading.

"Yup," Sam replies, not taking his eyes off the road as he's driving the Impala.

"And they said his name was – Sam, where are you going?"

Sam flashes him one of his innocent smiles. "What'd you mean?"

"We're going north, right? I know this town. Dad took me here several times to work some cases. This is not north."

"Relax, Dean."

"If you think you can waste our hard-earned gas money for—"

"Dean." Sam's tone halts him. "Take it easy. I'm taking us to what might be the last diner in Winchester."

"Yeah? What for?"

"You'll see." Sam turns to look on the road ahead, smiling again.

They don't seem to be too far from Sam's destination as he soon takes a turn to a parking lot in front of…

"Amherst Diner?" Dean reads the name above, his eyes flicking down at his watch. "Lunch is in two hours still."

Sam just stops the car and steps out.

"Hey!" Dean can only follow suit. He makes a face. "Weird."

Delicious aromas of freshly baked cakes and newly-served burgers hit Dean's nostrils and suddenly his stomach begins to grumble. "Great," he grumbles, too. He can never say no to any chances to get food. He sees that Sam has taken a place near the blind-covered window in a corner. Dean slowly approaches him.

"All right, Sam. Mind telling me what it's all about?"

"Just sit down."

"What, and waste our time and money here?"

"Shut up," Sam says much to his dismay, and nods to someone behind Dean, a grin slowly blossoming. "We're ready."

Frowning, Dean turns around, and his arm almost knocks over a sweet tiny waitress carrying a round of apple pie and a lit candle on it.

"Good God, I'm sorry!"

She just smiles, gracefully avoiding him and placing the pie on the table in front of an empty chair that's supposed to be Dean's place.

"That's okay, I'm fine. Happy birthday, Sir."

Dean's jaw slacks open. His eyes flicker from her to Sam.

"Dammit," he curses softly. "Sam?"

Sam only sits back, looking content and pleased. "Yeah. Thought I brought you here first before we plunge into our case and God knows when we can celebrate your birthday."

"Come on, you don't have to—"

But his words fly out the window as the cute waiter stands on her toes and leans forward to give a peck on his cheek. "Whoa." He touches his face and feels himself blush.

Sam's laughter fills the entire diner.