Hi there folks! Sorry to anyone following me that it's been SO long since I last posted! My laptop died a death and I've finally got Word on my new one so enjoying a chance to write a bit. This is based on a prompt from a LJ group, "Daddy, what's a birthday spanking?"

I've uploaded part one here and will hopefully manage to blitz part two this weekend. Please let me know if it works or doesn't work and sorry if I'm a little rusty! As always, I don't own anything, Just borrowing Eric Kripke's characters.

Enjoy!

"Daddy? What's a birthday spanking?"

I blinked in surprise as the question registered, fighting a smirk. Sammy was nine now, nearly ten, and it was a rare pleasure to be referred to as Daddy by either of my boys these days. I looked across at my son as he sat at the kitchen table doing his homework.

"Why do you want to know, buddy?" Sam shrugged non-committally. The kid took after me more than his mom—in more ways than one. He has my dark hair, and my brown eyes, and – I fear— my damned stubborn streak. Fortunately, I was only seeing glimpses of his temper these days, but I had a feeling that by the time he hit his teenage years and took a growth spurt, his attitude would go shooting up alongside it.

Dean, on the other hand… Dean took after his Mom. Every time I looked at my eldest, I saw my wife. Mary had been gone for nine years now, and there wasn't a day I didn't miss her. It was both a blessing and a curse to see my wife every day in the bright green of Dean's eyes, or the way the sunlight caught his hair. Dean was stubborn too, but he was quieter about it. Hell, if he didn't agree with me, I soon knew about it, but he didn't shout and drag his feet the way Sam did. Mary had always been like that too… She didn't shout very often, but damn, she could be as stubborn as a rock when she wanted...

I tugged a hand through my hair by habit, oblivious to the way it was sticking out in all directions, and sighed to myself. "Uh… Well… In some families it's kind of like a tradition, I guess." I paused, a little lost for words. "You know how when you act out, I sometimes haul you over my knee and spank you?"

"Dad, you always spank us…"

"I don't. Sometimes I ground you. Or give you PT or extra chores…"

"Sometimes. But usually you spank us. You spank us too hard…"

I grinned. "If I didn't spank you hard, you wouldn't learn from it, would you? Especially Dean. You know how much of a hard ass he can be…"

Sammy giggled across the room, and I felt a shoot of delight hit my stomach. Hell, I loved that sound. I didn't hear it often enough these days. I actually never really had, our life being the way it was. It was one of the things I regretted most, raising my boys so seriously; where we moved so often they could barely settle, and they lived out of their suitcases.

I fought off my serious thoughts and offered Sam my own grin. He returned the smile then dropped his gaze, looking shy. "Sammy? What's up, bud?"

"Uh… Do they hurt?"

"No, not usually. They're meant to be a bit of fun to acknowledge your birthday, kid. Usually you get one to grow on, and that's a little harder, but they're not sore like if you've misbehaved. Does that make sense?"

Sam nodded thoughtfully. "Uh-uh…" He lapsed into silence for a while, so I turned back to my research. "Um, Dad?"

I looked up again, surprised to see Sam squirming in his seat.

"Yeah, champ?" I asked, cocking my eyebrow in the familiar way that always made him spill what was bugging him.

"Um… Could… Could you maybe show me?"

My mouth opened in surprise, then quickly clicked shut. I wasn't really sure how to respond at first. I knew how curious he was though, and knew he'd no doubt ask Dean or google it otherwise.

"Uh… Sure, Sammy. Come here, then… Are you sure you want me to show you?"

Sam nodded. "Uh-hu…"

"Okay then…"

I lifted the ten slim body onto my lip, frowning slightly. Kid needed to eat more, he was on the skinny side these days… He'd always been a pretty slim kid, tall and skinny. I could tell he was going to grow up to be pushing 6"2 when he grew up, but I made a mental note to get him eating more in the meantime.

Sam squirmed over my lap for a minute in a bid to get comfortable, then waited quietly. I wrapped a reassuring arm around his waist, then took a minute to get my thoughts together. "Right. So, um… Let's just pretend this is for your ninth birthday, sport. So that's nine for your age and one to grow on. You ready?"

"Mhmm…"

I nodded to myself, then went to work. At first Sam seemed quite nervous, but he soon settled when he realised it really wasn't going to be like when I spanked him for acting up. By the time I'd finished, he was actually laughing again, and when I lifted him up into my arms to tickle him, he wriggled and giggled and tried to bat my hands away.

It was nice to just laugh together and enjoy a precious moment. It felt like those moments hardly ever came because I was always travelling with work. I guess I envied Dean a little the relationship he has with Sammy. Still, I didn't have much choice. My only option to protect my boys was to hunt down Azazael and kill the son of a bitch who killed my wife and robbed my sons of their Mom.

When Sam's laughter had died down a bit, I patted Sam's backside affectionately and sent him back to finish his homework. He assured me he'd nearly finished his math, and only had a few more questions left on his English homework. He was always good at completing his homework ahead of time, and always made sure he did personal research in advance to a high standard (unlike his brother.)

I put my journal away then went to the kitchen to make dinner, checking my watch on the way. It was half five and I still saw no signs of Dean. He wasn't unusual for him to play soccer at the local park with friends when I was home, and I knew he'd joined a couple extra-curricular teams at school, but usually he was home by dinner time.

I waited until ten to six, at which point the phone rang. I almost sighed in relief. That must be Dean now.

"Winchester speaking."

"Mr Winchester? It's Richard Hanson from Midway."

"Mr Hanson, hi. What can I do for you?"

"Well, there's been an incident…"

I nearly groaned. "What's Dean done, sir? Is he alright?"

"He's waiting outside my office."

"I see… What happened?"

"I was finishing up some paperwork this evening while basketball practice was on. Sometimes I like to pop in and see how the team are getting on, so I went along about an hour ago. I watched practice for a half hour, surprised that Dean didn't seem to be there. I know he tries to be at practice whenever he can be, but unfortunately is unable to occasionally. I asked his Coach if everything was okay and he said he hadn't seen Dean in a while. Your son had assured him he'd be there though… I like your son, Mr Winchester, he's quite a character. So I went to check he wasn't in any bother in the changing rooms etc., and the sight I found was a little… inappropriate. Your son was half naked with one of the female students of our school, a Miss Grace Watson. Ms Watson was also near naked, and was over your son's knee partaking in some… interesting activities. I trust you understand how inappropriate this is at school, Mr Winchester…."

I dragged a hand through my hair in frustration, trying not to swear. Damn kid… He definitely got this from me, but shit… I was gonna kill him. It would have been funny if he wasn't 14 and getting caught. "I can understand, that Mr Hanson. Do you need me to come and fetch him? I was just about to feed my youngest…"

"Well, I'm about to head home Mr Winchester. I could drop Dean home, if you didn't mind my giving him a lift. Some parents aren't happy to let teachers drop their children off at home, understandably."

I frowned, thinking it through. I'd met Mr Hanson a few times before though, and had done in depth checks of the area before we moved here four months ago. "Actually, I'd really appreciate that, Mr Hanson. Do you have the address? If you don't mind, it would be good to hear the story from you in person so I know how best to handle things."

"I'd be more than happy to explain in greater detail. We'll be there in about fifteen minutes, perhaps twenty. I'll have to speak to Grace's father first."

"That's great. Thank you. We'll see you within the hour."

"I'll see you then."

I hung up, feeling a headache coming on. A quick glance at Sam's expression had the ache intensifying. "Sam?"

He looked like a rabbit in the headlights. "You knew where your brother was headed, son, didn't you?"

"Um…"

Sam gulped.

"Come on, champ, spill. What happened?" I asked in resignation, recognising that my nine year old didn't really have a clue what was going on, despite his knowledge of Dean's plans.

I was surprised when, after I sat down at the table with him, he came over to sit on my lap. He seemed to be working out what to say, so I waited patiently for him to spill. I usually found that was one of my best tools of deduction with my boys. Waiting quietly and letting them sweat seemed to get a much more productive response than yelling at them. This evening was no exception…

"Uh, well… I asked Dean if he had practice tonight and he sorta just grinned, all cocky. I was hoping we could all hang out tonight, since you're back from your business trip now… Dean said he'd be home a little late cause he had this hot date with some girl… I think she was called Grace. I asked what they were gonna do, and he said it was her birthday and that he was gonna give her the best birthday spanking she ever got, then…"

I cut him off, certain that a nine year old –not even mine— should be describing sex in vivid details. I clenched my jaw, trying to keep myself calm.

"I think I get the picture, buddy. Is that what made you ask me what they were?" I asked gently, tousling his hair when he nodded in embarrassment.

Sam idolised his big brother. If Dean spat something out, I wouldn't have been surprised if Sammy ate it… I could understand his desperation to look like he understand his brother so Dean would respect him more, but I also knew Dean thought the absolute world of his baby brother.

I sighed to myself. "Sammy, Dean… Well… Birthday spankings aren't always between boys and girls. I mean, sometimes they are. Sometimes grown up's share them as a way to have fun on one or other's birthdays. Usually though, it's between family members, occasionally friends…" I huffed out a breath, struggling to find the right words. "What I'm trying to say is that birthday spankings aren't normally… sexual. And your brother certainly shouldn't have been pulling stunts like that. The only one here who doles them out is me until you're both much older and have your own lives. Am I making sense?"

Sam nodded, looking relieved, and leaned into my chest. "Is Dean in big trouble?"

"I'll have to have words with him about his choices tonight, champ."

"Are you gonna spank him too?"

I sighed. Sometimes my baby boy was far too astute… "Probably. What he did was really naughty, champ. He lied to his coach and he broke the school's rules, and he wasn't respectful to Grace…"

"But she wanted him to…"

"I know, son. But that doesn't necessarily make it acceptable or respectful towards her. Dean and Grace are both young. Too young to be trying out things like that just now… If Dean hadn't been careful, he could have gotten Grace into a lot of problems."

Sam nodded his understanding. "Oh… Is Dean gonna be really mad I tattled on him?"

I kissed his forehead. "No. He's brought trouble on himself, son. Don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong. I asked you a direct question about what you knew, and I'd have been pretty pissed if you'd have lied to me." I gave him a quick squeeze. "It'll be alright, Sammy. Maybe we could watch that video tonight, kid. Why don't we eat dinner, then you can choose a movie before you go for a shower and I deal with Dean?"

Sam nodded again, perking up a little. "Really? Dad, that's ace!"

I chuckled and ruffled his hair again, before prodding his side. "Alright then, Squirt. Scooch over and I'll feed you. Need to get some meat on you before you waste away…"

Sam sniggered, but obligingly sat down. He'd polished off two plates of meatballs and pasta before I heard the doorbell go. Sam gulped down his pasta, looking worried. I squeezed his shoulder as I stood up, then went to answer. I opened the door to see my (suitably) shamefaced teenager and Mr Hanson. Hanson had one hand on Dean's shoulder which I figured was probably wise, given that Dean looked torn between crying and bolting.

"Thanks for bringing him home, Mr Hanson. Dean, your dinner's in the kitchen. Go and eat with your brother, please."

"But…"

"Now, Dean."

Dean shot me an embarrassed glower but wisely scampered off, apparently realising I wasn't going to give him any wriggle room tonight. I watched him go then turned back to his principal.

"Mr Hanson."

"Please, call me Richard."

"Richard. Uh, John. Come on in. Would you like a coffee or anything to eat?"

"A coffee would be great, thanks. My wife's expecting me home in about an hour, she put dinner by when I called, but my kids couldn't wait that late to eat. Cream and one sugar please. Thanks."

I led him through to the lounge, suddenly unspeakably grateful that we were living in a decent house at the moment that wasn't too run down. I'd managed to hustle a lot of money at pool at the last place we were at, and when I wasn't working hunts in this town, I'd managed to pick up some jobs as a handyman. The elderly folks in the town were especially grateful for the odd jobs I'd done for them.

"Please, make yourself comfortable, I'll just go make that coffee."

Dean studiously ignored me while I was getting drinks, which suited me fine. I wasn't sure how pissed I was at him yet, but I had a feeling I'd soon find out.