Well, here's another odd snippet that came to me on the bus ride home. Enjoy!
Quarreling, Quarreling Off We Go
By: Vanessa Sgroi
"Stop doing that," muttered Dean, scowling at his brother across the research-strewn table.
"Stop doing what? I'm not doing anything!"
"Yes, you are."
"No, I'm not."
"Yeah, you are. See! You just did it again!"
Sam snorted dismissively. "Dude, I yawned."
"Yeah, I know and it's catchy! Every time you yawn, I yawn."
"So? It's not like I'm doing it on purpose."
"I think you are."
"Bro, seriously, you think I'm yawning on purpose?"
Dean crossed his arms. "Mmm hmm."
"Prove it." Sam crossed his arms, mirroring Dean's posture.
"Prove you're not."
They stared at each other in silence for a moment before Sam uncrossed his arms and ran a through his longish hair. "You do realize this is one of the dumbest arguments we've ever had, right?"
Dean leaned forward, rested his elbows on the table, and scowled, for all the world looking like he was going to vehemently continue the argument. Then he suddenly grinned, green eyes lightening considerably. "Yeah, you're right."
Deep down, the brothers knew that too little food, too little sleep, and too many bad hunts were putting them both on edge and taking a toll.
"So," Dean continued, "I guess we have two choices—I can make yet another pot of coffee and we can continue this fascinating research or we can get some sleep—real sleep—for a change."
Sam glanced at his watch. "It's only 8 o'clock, but you know what," Sam paused long enough to yawn again. This time it was hard enough that his jaw cracked, "I vote for sleep."
Dean's eyes watered as he fought back another yawn of his own. He failed miserably and the yawn burst forth, involuntary tears streamed from the corners of his eyes. "Shit. Me too," he muttered when he could speak.
It was lights out in less than five minutes. Each tossed and turned, fighting to relax. After a few minutes, things grew quiet.
"Hey, Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"How the hell was I supposed to prove I wasn't yawning on purpose?"
Fin