"You hungry, Sammy?"

The boys had been out around town all day, interviewing people about a witch they believed to be in the area. The creature had decided to play relationship solver by making people switch bodies with the person they were having problems with. Much to Sam's chagrin, Dean kept referring to it as the Freaky Friday case.

"Yeah, food would be great. I haven't eaten since breakfast," Sam said, loosening his tie.

Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of a small diner, and the two men exited the vehicle. Once inside, they each ordered their meals from an elderly waitress with bright red lipstick. She referred to them as darlings and honeys, and even winked at Sam as she walked away. Dean laughed at his younger brother's expression.

"Okay, we need to review everything we know," Sam said after Dean had finished.

"Right. So it's some old hag who lives in town," Dean started, but his brother gave him a look that told him not to use slurs. "It's a witch, Sam, it's a monster just like we've always hunted. I'll call it what I want to." Sam rolled his eyes, but Dean pretended not to see. "Alright, so there's a witch living here. That first couple, the one that was going to get a divorce, ended up solving all of their problems."

"Except for the fact that they ended up killing each other because they couldn't stand seeing the other with a friend or other family member," Sam continued. "Then there was that mother and daughter."

"Right, the Freaky Friday situation," Dean said, smiling at his own reference.

"Okay, yeah, the Freaky Friday situation," Sam agreed reluctantly. "The one where it didn't actually work out like it did in the movie, and the daughter stabbed her mom in the middle of the night, only to kill herself in a car accident the next day because she couldn't live without her."

Dean shuddered. They were distracted for a moment by the arrival of their dinner. The waitress carelessly put Dean's platter in front of him and smiled broadly at Sam as she slid his plate in front of him.

"Call me if you need anything, honey," she directed at Sam. He nodded and muttered a thank you as she walked away. Dean grinned as he placed a French fry in his mouth.

"Let me know if you need some space, man," he said, trying to stop himself from laughing harder. "I can give you the motel room tonight if you wanted."

"Oh, shut up," Sam snapped, although he was smiling slightly as he dug into his ham sandwich.

Later that evening, the boys were back in their motel room. It was too late to go out and interview their most recent lead, and so they had opted to head to bed early in order to wake up at a normal time in the morning. Sam looked over all of the facts they had while Dean watched a rerun of Dr. Sexy MD. Finally, they crawled into their own beds and flipped off the lights, getting some rest before the long day they would undoubtedly have.

The next morning, Sam was the first one awake. He glanced over at the bed where his brother lay, buried under the sheets and his head shoved underneath the pillow. Smiling to himself, he swung his legs off the bed and stood up before walking to the bathroom. He quickly took care of business and moved to the sink to wash his hands and his face. The light still blinded him slightly after a night spent in darkness, forcing him to keep his gaze down. He washed his hands and was surprised to find a watch on his wrist. Brow furrowed, Sam looked up into the mirror, expecting to see his own familiar face with its triangular nose and shaggy hair. Instead, he found himself face-to-face with Dean.

Shocked, Sam stumbled backwards. The Dean in the mirror mimicked him exactly, including the confused head tilt after he had hit the wall. He thought hard for several moments before suddenly realizing what had happened. He had to reaffirm it, though.

Exiting the bathroom, Sam crossed to the bed in which he remembered falling asleep in the night before. Looking back, he should have realized something was off when he woke up in the wrong bed. He wrote it off as early morning grogginess. Sam reached for the top of the blanket and hesitated, though he wasn't sure why. He wasn't entirely sure he wanted Dean to be in his body; he barely trusted his big brother in his own body. Taking a deep breath, Sam grabbed the blanket and tore it off his body (or was it his brother? This was going to get confusing).

"What the hell, Sam?" grumbled the person in the bed. Immediately, Sam knew it was Dean. The man now trapped in his body was pulling the blanket back over his head in a show of defiance. Sam grabbed the blanket and the top sheet and ripped them from his brother's grasp. Dean sat up, and Sam found himself facing his own angry face. It wasn't angry for very long as Dean realized that he was looking at his own bewildered face.

"What the-?"

"Dean, I think the witch knows we're on to her," Sam said. "Because now I'm you, and you're me."