A little Stanford-Era one-shot plot bunny that's been hopping around in my head.
I don't own Supernatural, nor any characters associated with the show.
Sam sat on the sofa, clicking quickly through the tv channels as he listened to Jess bang around in the kitchen. He smiled to himself when he heard her cursing loudly after dropping most of what had been dinner.
She clomped out of the kitchen and flopped down next to Sam, scowling all the while.
"So… Pizza?" Sam said, amusement in his voice.
"Ya. Pizza." Jess ground out.
He was going to have to distract Jess from her kitchen catastrophe, Sam decided. He abandoned his channel surfing to dive onto Jess, making her squeal in surprise. Once he had her secured in his arms, he shoved back and stretched them both out on the sofa. She giggled a little bit, then sighed happily and snuggled into his chest.
"Mmmm, maybe the pizza can wait," she mumbled out contently.
Sam's chest rumbled beneath her as he chuckled out his agreement. They laid there together like that for a few minutes, and drank each other in. The tv was playing all the while in the background.
Jess got yanked from her euphoria when Sam's breath abruptly fled from his lungs in shock.
"Sam," she murmured, concerned, "what is it?
"My brother," he breathed out, eyes glued to the news channel the tv had landed on earlier. He sat up, deposited her next to him, and watched the story on a recently caught serial killer with eager eyes. When it was over, he burst out laughing. It was just so Dean for him to do that.
"Baby, your brother is a dangerous felon, and this is how I find out?" Jess shouted, her worry peeking out from beneath the anger.
"No," Sam chortled, "he's the FBI agent who caught the guy." With that, fresh laughter came out. "Agent Winchester. God only knows how he passed the background check."