It's ridiculous, but maybe it will make you laugh.

Something was bothering Sam Winchester. He was a bit ashamed quite honestly, but he couldn't really deny it.

His problem was caused by a blond-haired woman in her twenties who sang country and sometimes pop. He had never met this woman, but she had unknowingly caused this. This woman's name was Taylor Swift.

Well, perhaps it wasn't really her fault. She had just written a song. People had loved it, so she had written more songs. She didn't make Dean listen to them.

More likely, it was that witch's fault. She, after all, had turned Dean into a teenager, given him teenage hormones and tastes. Of course, Dean hadn't liked pop as a teenager. Sure there were differences between 90s pop and 2010s pop, but he couldn't imagine Dean liking Taylor Swift when he was younger. So it really couldn't have been the witch.

But if it wasn't the witch, then Dean had developed this music taste on his own. Which made Sam more uncomfortable.

It had been three days since the witch incident. In the car, Dean had switched from a classic rock album to the radio three times. Two of the times "Shake it Off" had come on along with other songs in the top 40. The other time it was "Blank Space." Dean hadn't complained. Except about "Happy." It was a stupid song apparently. But then again, maybe he was just developing a taste for pop. Some of the new music was pretty good. Taylor Swift had come on in the midst of "Take me to Church" and the other justifiably good songs. But "Shake it Off" was a new low for Dean. Dean was very particular about music. A month ago Sam would have felt sure that his brother would have turned the radio off in disgust had it come on.

It wasn't that Sam was particularly bothered by the music itself. He didn't want to listen to it over and over, but he didn't really mind it. But the hypocrisy in Dean's music taste did bother him. Or maybe it was just that he didn't understand this sudden change in music taste. He knew it was unreasonable, but he couldn't really shake it off. Or stop thinking that phrase.

He wasn't going to be so petty as to bring it up and he knew Dean would be pissed at him if he did, but he did have to know if Dean really did like Taylor Swift or not. So he came up with a plan.

'It's not petty,' he told himself. 'It's just curiosity. You have no reason to be bothered by this and you aren't.' And he sort of believed himself.

The plan was simple. As Sam sat at his favorite research table, trying to read whatever he could find on the Mark, he would play music. When he heard Dean coming, he would switch to a particular song.

The first day he listened to classic rock. It was only reasonable to create a classic rock playlist; Dean might look over his shoulder and if he did, Sam wanted it to look like he'd been listening to the same kind of music the whole time. Having listened his dad's and then Dean's albums constantly his entire life, he was accustomed to it and able to tune it out easily as he worked. When he heard Dean's footsteps approaching he switched the song on his laptop to "Enter Sandman," something he knew Dean would like, and quickly minimized the window. Dean walked in on his way to the kitchen, presumably to grab a beer. As he came back in, Sam saw his fingers tap against his leg to the beat and he heard him humming. Sam sighed internally. Dean had not lost his taste in classic rock, not that he had thought he had.

The next day was Broadway showtunes, a style he figured Dean still hadn't acquired a taste for. Sam toiled for a while over what to choose. Not something too universally loved, like "Phantom of the Opera," but he didn't want to use something like "You Can't Stop the Beat" for the sake of his own dignity. And it had to clearly recognizable as Broadway. He eventually decided on "Hello, Dolly." Sam enjoyed the first few songs that came on his newly downloaded playlist, but the music was largely to upbeat and forceful to focus on his research, so he resigned himself to turning it off and waiting for Dean to approach to turn it back on.

Dean finally showed up. He sat down next to Sam and pulled his brother's laptop over to him. It seemed to take him a second to register what he was hearing. "What the hell are you listening to? Is that Barbara Streisand?"

Sam shrugged. "Thought it would be nice to listen to some musical stuff for a change."

Dean gave him a disgusted look and turned back to the laptop, minimizing the music player, and opening up the web browser. He sat with a pained expression through the duration of the song, but when the next song came, "Ireland" from something Sam couldn't remember, he brought up the music player and shut it off. "Legally Blonde, Sam, really?"

Sam didn't particularly remember downloading anything from Legally Blonde and vaguely remembered getting frustrated with finding music and just downloading anything that sounded remotely good, so he figured he must have just forgotten to look. But he would defend his choice. "It's a good song."

"Dude. How much of this crap do you have on here?" Dean gave him a condescending look as he scrolled through the playlist. He minimized the window again and kept looking for cases. Sam surprised himself by feeling offended; he had loved musicals in high school and they were starting to grow on him. Nonetheless, Sam was pleased. Dean had reacted exactly how he had expected he would. He had his control groups.

Finally, it was time for the final test. The next day, Sam brought up his pop playlist. It was surprisingly decent research music, so he listened to it until he heard Dean's footsteps. He quickly clicked on "Shake it Off." The introduction began to play. Dean walked in and sat down. "Hey," Sam said, trying to play it cool.

"Hey," Dean grunted back. Sam watched him silently. Dean said nothing and popped the cap off a beer. Sam looked down at his laptop and then up again.

"What?" Dean asked.

"What?"

"Why're you staring at me like that?"

"What?"

Dean rolled his eyes. A minute later, Dean caught Sam looking at him again. "Look, is something up?"

"No, why?"

"You're acting weird." He paused. "Does this have something to do with why you're listening to pop music? And musicals?"

"Why, does it bother you?" asked Sam, seizing onto the chance.

"No. Well, musicals yeah. You just don't listen to music."

"Sure I do."

"No, you don't."

The song was starting to end. "Do you like this song?" Sam tried to ask casually.

"Sure."

"Since when?"

What?"

"Since when do you like Taylor Swift?"

"Why do you care?"

"Because you don't like Taylor Swift!"

"Is that what all this is about!?" Sam glanced away. "Come on man, that is petty." He sighed. "Look it's just kind of laid back, you know. Kinda makes you feel like everything's alright."

"Like the Mark?" Sam was beginning to feel quite embarrassed.

"No. I don't know. Just let it go. It's stupid." Dean look away, also looking embarrassed. Suddenly he looked back at Sam in horror, also beginning to doubt his brother's music taste. "And don't you dare..."

"I wasn't going to!"

"'Cause I hate that song."

"I know."