Disclaimer: I own nothing related to Supernatural. I'm just having some fun with these wonderful characters. No harm intended.


YOUR BRANCHES GREEN DELIGHT US

By: Vanessa Sgroi

Sam Winchester rolled over, yawned, and reluctantly pushed himself upright with his elbows. Still half asleep, he rolled out of bed and lumbered toward the bunker's kitchen to make coffee, yawning the entire distance between his bedroom and the bunker's utilitarian kitchen.

"'Bout time you got up. Thought you were going to sleep all day."

The sound of his brother's voice had Sam jerking to a halt just inside the door. He rubbed at his eyes and glanced at the clock, confirming it really was only a little after 6:00 a.m. before focusing again on his brother. "What're you doing up so early? We got a job?"

"I'm cooking."

"Cooking? You mean you're making breakfast before we head out on a job…"

"No, I'm cooking because I wanted to get a head start."

"A head start? On what?"

"Dinner."

Thoroughly confused, Sam ran a hand through his tangled mess of hair. "I must still be asleep. It's like ten after six in the morning, and you're cooking dinner?"

Seeing Sam's confused face, Dean snickered. "Dude, what day is it?"

"Uh…Thursday…right? Unless something weird is going on…"

Dean shoved a mug of coffee into Sam's hands. "Yes, it's Thursday. The fourth Thursday in November. Which means it's..."

"…Thanksgiving," Sam finished. "Wait—that means…you mean you're cooking Thanksgiving dinner. As in a turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, etc."

"Yep. The whole hog...including sweet potatoes…" Dean paused and gave an exaggerated shudder, "just for you."

"And you're cooking the whole thing?"

"Yep."

"And you know how?"

Dean scowled. "Hey, I googled it. I know what I'm doing. Besides I thought you might wanna help."

"Uhhh…sure…I guess…"

Dean's face lit up and he dragged Sam toward the sink. "Good! Now you can reach up inside the turkey and pull out the gib…giblets."

Sam gawked at the huge turkey waiting in the sink. "Me?! Why do I have to reach a hand up inside that thing? I mean, that's just kinda gross."

"Seriously, Sam? I've seen you reach inside of fresh—and not so fresh—corpses for clues when we're on hunts and you don't want to take the giblets out of a turkey?"

"That's because…because on a job I'm Sam Winchester, Hunter," Sam curled his lip at the oversized bird. "Right now I'm just like Sam Winchester, Person…"

Dean looked at his brother as if he'd lost his mind. He rolled his eyes. "Well, okay, Mr. Sam Winchester, Person…sack up and reach in and get the giblets."

"Why aren't you doing it?"

There was a long pause. "Because…your arms are longer."

Now Sam returned the incredulous look. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Just do it already!"

"Fine." Sam deposited his coffee cup on the counter next to the sink. Grimacing, Sam reached inside the turkey, found the paper baggy of giblets along with the neck, and pulled them both out, dropping them into the sink. "There. Happy?" he queried while rinsing off his hands.

"Extremely." Dean grinned.

"Is that all you wanted me to do?"

"For now. But there's a five pound bag of potatoes that need peeling and it has your name on it."

"Five pounds? Dude, you do know you're just cooking for the two of us, right?"

"Leftovers, Sam. Leftovers."

Sam shrugged. "Okay, whatever." He finished his coffee and put his mug down on the table. "I'm gonna go shower."

"'Bout time—you stink. The turkey's even about to jump out the window to get away from you."

"Jerk." Sam headed for the door.

"Hey, Sam? I have a question…"

The younger Winchester paused and looked back over his shoulder. "Yeah?"

"When are you gonna have business cards made up that say 'Sam Winchester, Person' on them?"

"Bite me," Sam growled and sauntered away. The sound of Dean's laughter followed him down the hallway. He couldn't help but grin.

(SPN) *** (SPN)

Mid-afternoon that same day, Dean hit Sam's propped feet with his hand, awakening him from a turkey-overdose-induced stupor. "Hey!"

Sam's eyes popped open. "Huh, whuh? Time for dessert?"

"Not yet. I have something else we need to do."

"Do? Seriously? After what we just ate, I didn't think either of us would be moving for a while." Sam rubbed his stomach and made a move to straighten. "And what about the game?" He gestured to the small television they'd been watching.

"That can wait. We've got something better to do."

"Better than football? Oh, this oughta be good." Sam reluctantly rose to his feet.

"Okay—stay right there, I'll be right back," Dean assured.

The older Winchester left the room, returning a couple minutes later carrying a large box. He sat it at Sam's feet. "Hang on—there's one more." Dean disappeared again and came back carrying a second cardboard box of equal size. He sat it next to the first.

Beyond curious, Sam queried, "So what's in the boxes?"

Excited, Dean bent down and pulled the flaps open. He reached inside and pulled out…a branch? "This!" He smiled. "It's a Christmas tree! You know, one of those old artificial ones. I found it in storage."

"Wait—you mean you want to put up a Christmas tree—here in the bunker?"

"Sure, why not?"

"I dunno. It just seems a little…not like us…you know?"

"Well, hey, we have the space and we have the tree. Can't hurt, right?"

Dean's face was so open and guileless that Sam knew then and there he couldn't be a Grinch. He relented. "All right. Let's do it."

Dean clapped his hands together. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about. Let's get this thing together."

The brothers spent the next hour putting the old-fashioned tree together, bending and unbending the fake evergreen branches until the 12-foot tree stood tall and majestic in a corner of the bunker. Swiping a hand across his forehead, Sam stepped back to admire their handiwork. "You know, that doesn't look half bad."

"I think it looks awesome," returned Dean. "There are some boxes of lights and tinsel too, right next to where I found the tree. We can grab those and decorate it." They both turned to go in search of the decorations when suddenly the room was filled with sound.

"Dashing through the snow…"

The Winchesters turned back to see the Christmas Tree swaying from side-to-side, its branches merrily twitching. And it was singing. The tree was singing.

"…in a one-horse open sleigh…"

"Uh…Dean…is the tree…"

Dean frowned in puzzled astonishment. "Yeah. What the hell? Maybe there's an OFF switch somewhere?" He stepped forward to search.

The tree warbled louder. Soon it was bellowing loud enough that the brothers had to cover their ears and shout to be heard.

"DEAN!"

"WHAT?"

"THE BOXES—GET THE BOXES!"

"WHAT?"

"GET THE BOXES! THERE MIGHT BE A CLUE!"

The tree shimmied and swayed merrily and moved on to another carol.

Dean grabbed both boxes and shoved one at Sam.

After a couple of seconds, Dean yelled, "HEY, DID YOU KNOW THIS IS A WINCHESTER FIR?"

"WHAT?"

"I SAID, DID YOU KNOW THIS IS A WINCHESTER FIR? INTERESTING, HUH?"

"YEAH, BUT NOT REALLY THE INFO WE'RE LOOKING FOR…WAIT! I GOT SOMETHING! IT SAYS HERE THAT THIS TREE IS AN ENCHANTED CHRISTMAS TREE!"

"ENCHANTED? WELL, HOW DO WE UNENCHANT IT?"

"DISENCHANT," corrected Sam.

"HUH?"

"YOU MEAN DISENCHANT IT. THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS UNENCHANT."

"SO NOT THE TIME FOR A VOCABULARY LESSON, SAM! HOW DO WE STOP IT?"

"UHHH…" Sam frantically read through the papers he held. "UHH, WE DON'T. THAT IS, ACCORDING TO THIS, THE ONLY THING WE CAN DO IS TAKE IT APART!"

"LET'S DO IT THEN!"

Sam and Dean quickly began to disassemble the fir tree. It was harder taking it apart than it had been putting it together, mostly because the tree seemed to be fighting back. It also kept singing carols until the last branch was plucked from the wooden "trunk". The brothers both breathed a sigh of relief when silence finally fell.

Dean tossed the last branch back in the box with a lot of disgust and not a little disappointment. "Well, that was a bust. Guess I should've known something was up with it when I found it in storage."

Seeing his brother's dejected expression, Sam was suddenly struck with inspiration. "We could always go get a live one tomorrow."

"A live one—you mean a live tree?"

"Yeah. Like you said earlier, why not?"

Dean shrugged and smiled. "All right. Let's go for it then."

Sam nodded. "Sounds like a plan," Sam paused with a chuckle. "Hey, I got an idea. Maybe we can see if Cas will come by and sit on the top of it for us. You know…the angel at the top of the tree…"

Dean snorted. "Yeah, I let you ask him that one." Pushing the cardboard boxes out of the way with his foot, Dean said, "I think it's time for some pie."

"After that? Yeah, sounds good to me. What kind did you make again?"

"Pumpkin and apple."

"I call dibs on the pumpkin."

"Yeah, yeah. Just don't hog all the whipped cream."

FIN