Disclaimer: Don't own them.
"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam was clearly somewhere between amused and worried.
"He looked thirsty," Dean gestured to the mutt at his feet lapping up the beer he was pouring for him.
"Yeah, maybe, but now he just looks drunk," Sam stated as the dog began to wobble a little. "How
much have you given him?"
"Hmmmm........well, we've made through a six pack together. Maybe we could keep him, I bet he'd
make a good hunting dog. He's already a better drinking partner than you are."
"Yeah. So does this mean that he'll be riding shotgun in the impala?"
Dean scowled. "Dammit! Can't have those muddy paws on Baby's leather."
"Sorry. Are you sure it was a six pack you two made it through? Seems like you've had a few more than that."