A/N: I did the deed but Mad Server sowed the seed.

Alas I own nothing except the wishbone from last year's turkey. But if I did………

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Dean Winchester crawls across the floor. Something small and shiny catches his attention. He picks it up and studies it for a minute before…..

"John what's he got?" Mary calls from the kitchen.

"Whatcha got there Dean-o?" John reaches down and scoops him up. He gently removes Dean's wet, chubby fist from his mouth and thumbs it open. Inside is a new penny.

"Let's go see if your Mom's got something tastier than a penny huh?" He wanders into the kitchen where Mary is putting the finishing touches on a steamy, golden brown turkey. He leans down to kiss the top of her head.

"Almost done?"

"Uh-huh why don't you take him into the dining room? Then you can come back and help me set the table."

The date is November 22, 1979. Dean is 10 months old. His father carries him into the next room and places him gently in the high chair.

"Right back kidd-o." Then he's gone.

"Da?" Dean calls. He always gets a little nervous when he's alone.

"Da?" His lip starts to tremble just slightly and then his father's there again his mother too and everything smells so good. He holds his arms out.

"Just wait sweetie. I have something for you." His mother croons. This makes him smile. She places something white and warm on his tray. It squishes satisfyingly through his fingers, tastes wonderful on his tongue. He pushes something small and green around with one fat little finger then brow furrowed he captures it and pops it in his mouth. Then something else, this time from his father, it's brown and stringy and the texture is strange. He spits it out grimacing. Mary laughs.

"I don't think he's ready for turkey yet John."

"Guess not huh? That's ok though son because what your mother has for after the turkey will more than make up for it." A truer statement has never been uttered.

After clearing the dinner dishes Mary returns from the kitchen holding a silver tin. It's the first time Dean lays eyes on what will become a lifelong passion.

Pie. Home baked, warm, gooey, and fragrant she cuts two slices. One for John and one for her to share with Dean.

"Open wide." She says smiling. He does and when he closes his little mouth around the small bite of apple pie his green eyes go wide. He clutches at the spoon as it recedes.

"I think he likes it," John chuckles. Dean watches his mother intently mouth open.

"More than the turkey anyway."

"Ah. Ah. Mo?"

"Yes more." Mary says spooning another bite. Then another and another and….. The piece in front of her is gone and she's laughing again because Dean has turned his attention to John expectantly holding out his hand fingers wiggling.

"Mo?" John pushes what's left of his pie onto Dean's tray.

"Pie." He says pointing to the pile. Dean looks at him then at the tray.

"Pa?"

"Close enough." he smiles. It's catching that smile and Dean follows suit giggling and clapping his hands.

"Pa! Pa, pa, pa, pa." he pokes the pile each time he says it until finally two fisted he digs in.

A few minutes later he sways in the seat, eyelids droopy, cinnamon speckled pie filling glistening on his round little cheeks. He sighs contentedly when his mother lifts him from the high chair. She wipes his face and his sticky hands, cuddles him close savoring the feel of his small, soft body in her arms.

He snuggles in feeling full and warm and loved.

She kisses his cheek. Whispers….

"Happy first Thanksgiving baby."

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And Happy Thanksgiving to everyone out there! May yours be filled with love and laughter. Family and friends. And most of all…….Pie!

(P.S. I know pumpkin pie is traditional for Thanksgiving but I hate it. Apple is my favorite so ; p.)