A/N: This be my first SN story...so here it goes. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing...wish I did, but I don't. Once I do, you'll know 'cause I won't be letting anyone use them anymore...
Dean stared at Sam. No way was he related to the kid. They were too different. He was blond, Sam was brunette. He was more action, Sam was more talk. He was shorter, Sam was taller. He had looks that could kill, Sam…didn't; but he did have those puppy-dog eyes.
But those weren't even the worst of it. The absolute proof that they were in no way related was what Sam put in his mouth. The kid ate freakin' rabbit food!
Give Dean a greasy hamburger any day. He didn't even like green stuff on his burgers, let alone without the artery clogging goodness.
"You're sick man," Dean said, dipping his burger into a ketchup-mayo concoction.
"What? No I'm not," Sam said, putting another forkful of salad in his mouth.
"You have to be. How else could you live off of that?" Dean motioned towards Sam's dinner with his burger.
"It's healthy. A lot of people eat salad. It's amazing you're still alive after living off of grease for twenty years," Sam shot back, looking at the grease that dripped from Dean's meal with disgust.
"This is American. What you're doing is right up there with terrorism," Dean mumbled around a mouthful of half-chewed food.
Sam pulled a face at the sight of massacred cow in his brother's mouth. That was beyond disgusting.
"I don't think your body could even recognize healthy food anymore," Sam said, trying to look away from Dean.
Dean shoved the last bite of his burger into his mouth. After licking his fingers free of every remaining bit of food on them, he pointed at Sam.
"I don't think you could last a week on my diet. It takes years of hard work to be able to eat like this."
"Why would I want to go a week eating that crap?" Sam asked.
"You scared? Fine, I'll bet you ten bucks you couldn't last a week eating what I do," Dean said, pulling a ten out of his wallet. He waved in front of Sam's face.
"I'm not doing it Dean. No amount of money could make me kill myself," Sam got up and started walking from the diner.
Dean threw some money on the table and followed his brother outside.
"That's weird," Dean said, catching up with Sam.
"What is?" Sam looked around, expecting to see something supernatural.
"Never woulda' thought a Winchester would back down from an easy bet," Dean said, a smirk on his face.
"I'm not backing down! I just don't see the point of it!" Sam said, as he climbed into the car.
"Not taking it is backing down, Sammy-boy," Dean started the car and pulled out of the parking lot.
Sam looked over at his brother. He had that look on his face. The one that always meant trouble for Sam.
"You're not going to let this go, are you?"
"No."
"Fine, I'll go along with your stupid bet. But on one condition," Sam waited for his brother's attention. "You have to go a week of eating healthy."
Dean looked away from the road and stared in horror at Sam.
"Dean! Car!" Sam yelled, bracing himself against the dashboard.
"Wha-?" Dean whipped his head back to the road in time to see a car coming right at them. Dean tightened his grip on the steering wheel and swerved the Impala back into its lane. "Oops."
"So that's a no then?" Sam asked, trying to slow his heart down.
"I'm not eating salad for a week. I'm a man, I require more than lettuce and tomatoes," Dean said.
"And here I thought you were a Winchester," Sam shook his head in mock disappointment.
"I am," Dean said, waiting to hear is earlier words thrown back at him.
"I didn't think Winchesters backed down from bets," Sam said, smiling when Dean gave a pained look.
"Winchesters also don't live on green stuff alone, princess," Dean snapped.
"Fine. If you don't want to, I guess you don't have to. But I'm not taking your bet then," Sam stated, leaning his head back on the seat and closing his eyes.
Dean looked at his brother from the corner of his eye. Damn it, he looked so smug over there, thinking he had wormed himself out of this one. But he had another thing coming. Never underestimate Dean Mathew Winchester.
"Fine, I'll take your stupid bet," Dean said, breaking the silence.
Sam's head snapped up. Crap. He had though he had found a way out of this. He had never thought Dean would actually take him up on it.
"Really? Are you sure?" Sam asked, hoping that Dean would back out.
"Yeah, really. What, you don't want to anymore? Afraid you'll lose? Cause you are," Dean said.
"Okay, we'll do it. One week of eating like each other. Ten bucks to the winner," Sam outlined the rules.
"Sounds good to me. Starting tonight?" Dean glanced at Sam.
"Sure, we'll end next Wednesday night," Sam stuck his hand out.
"What're you doing?" Dean asked, looking at the offered hand.
"I want to shake on it," Sam said.
"Shake? You sure you don't want to pinky-swear or something?" Dean smirked.
"Just do it, Dean," Sam sighed.
Grumbling, Dean took his left hand off the steering wheel and reached across to shake his brother's hand.
DAY ONE
"This is disgusting! Why would you ever eat this willingly?" Sam asked, watching the small puddle of grease surrounding his dinner.
"I'm the one that should be complaining, Sammy. I'm eating Thumper's food," Dean poked at his salad, looking at Sam's food with longing.
Sam closed his eyes and took a bite. After you got past the grease and oil…it wasn't that bad. He opened his eyes to see Dean looking at him, a knowing smile on his face.
"You liked it, didn't you?" Dean asked, smugly.
"I didn't totally hate it," Sam said.
"You liked it," Dean said, that smile still on his face.
"Shut up and eat your salad."
DAY TWO
"I'm never going to get used to this," Dean sulked.
"Wanna give up? Cause I could really use that ten now," Sam said.
"Yeah right. You may be enjoying that burger, but you're not getting my money," Dean said, taking a bite of salad.
DAY THREE
"I'll have a burger with fries please. Oh, and extra mayo," Sam told the waitress.
"I'll have the…skinless chicken with carrots," Dean sighed, not even glancing at the rather busty girl.
"Oh, you're a healthy one, aren't you? We don't get too many of you around here. Everyone just wants a big, juicy burger with all the fixins," she said cheerfully.
"Uh huh," Dean said, looking at the table. Sam looked at his brother with concern. Ever since starting the bet, Dean had been getting more and more sullen.
Maybe they should just call it off. It wasn't worth it if Dean was going to act like this. Sam opened his mouth to suggest they end their little wager when a spit ball hit him in the face.
Sam wiped his face and shot a look at Dean, who was trying to look innocent. Forget it, Dean could suffer.
DAY FOUR
"I think this crap is starting to grow on me," Dean commented.
"Goody for you," Sam said, holding his stomach as it protested at just the thought of more grease.
"What's the matter? You're not looking so great there," Dean asked, concern on his face.
"I don't think I'm used to this much grease. It's making me sick," Sam said, bending forward.
"You can end the pain, you know. All you have to do is give me ten bucks," Dean smiled.
"No way. You're not going to last another three days," Sam said, trying to sit straight again.
Dean laughed when Sam groaned and hunched forward again.
DAY FIVE
Dean and Sam sat there staring at each other's meal. Neither wanted to admit it, but they were willing to cough up the money and go back to their preferred dining choices.
"I'll be back, I have to take a leak," Dean said.
Sam watched him go and disappear into the bathroom. He turned his attention back to Dean's pasta salad. He wouldn't notice if a few pieces of pasta went missing…right?
Sam looked over at the bathrooms again. Certain that Dean wouldn't be coming out for a few minutes, he leaned over the table. He was just about to stab a noodle when a shadow passed over him.
"Can I help you, Sammy?" Dean asked, a triumphant smile on his face.
"I thought I saw a bug," Sam lied, sitting back on his side of the booth.
DAY SIX
"One more day, one more day, one more day," Dean muttered to himself as his speared a carrot.
Sam wasn't doing much better. He kept drinking big gulps of water to help wash down the greasy fried chicken.
They met each other's gazes. Green met brown, and both were filled with pain. They went back to their food, each thinking 'one more day.'
DAY SEVEN
"Last meal, Sam. And I gotta say, I'm impressed that you stuck it out a whole week," Dean slapped him on the back.
"Yeah. Piece of cake. I could do it for another if I had to," Sam replied, walking out of the diner.
"Don't get cocky there, kid.," Dean walked over to the car and got in.
"I'm amazed you made it a week too. I never would've thought you could do it," Sam said, closing the door.
"Dude, how could you doubt me like that? After everything I've seen and done, of course I can do something as easy as eat healthy for a week," Dean feigned a look of hurt.
"Whatever, man," Sam laughed. He stretched his legs out and heard something rustle by his feet.
Wondering what could make that sound, since they had just cleaned out the car two days ago, Sam leaned over grabbed it. He pulled it up so he could see it more clearly.
"I really think this eating healthy thing has done something for me. I think I have more energy. Maybe I'll partake in some rabbit food more often," Dean said, oblivious to Sam's find.
"Dean."
"No, really. It wasn't that bad," Dean said.
"Dean."
"I mean, I wouldn't eat it all the time. But every once in a while would be okay," Dean kept going.
"Dean!"
"What Sammy?" Dean looked over at Sam.
Sam held up the paper bag he was holding.
"Wh-where'd you get that?" Dean asked.
"Found it on the floor."
"Must've been there from before."
"We just cleaned out the car."
"Umm…"
"You cheated. You got McDonald's. You lost," Sam said, a smile growing on his face with every word.
"No…I umm. Damn it. Fine. I cheated, alright? I couldn't handle anymore of that crap. You happy?" Dean snapped.
"Yeah. Now give me my ten bucks." Sam held out a hand expectantly.