"Oh for the love of… seriously Dean?" you grumbled to yourself as you fished a horribly smelly pair of Dean's socks out from under the motel bed.
The boys were out interviewing some witness for the case you were all on while you were stuck playing maid and doing the laundry. At least this motel had laundry facilities on site and you didn't have to lug the overstuffed duffle bags too far. It'd only been four days and yet Sam & Dean had managed to run out of clean clothes already. Dean told you not to bother with it, but he was really starting to smell. Maybe if they didn't wear three layers of clothes a day they wouldn't rack up suck a pile of sweat and filth.
You took a final look around to make sure you'd gotten everything when the door opened and in walked the Kings of Flannel.
"What the hell happened?" You asked, seeing the mess they were: Sam was soaked and covered in mud. Dean was just as dirty, but half dry and his pants were dripping in blood.
"Um… I kinda…" Sam began, looking down at himself.
"He got tossed in the lake." Dean laughed, "and I had to drag his ass out."
You shook your head disapprovingly. "Your suit's probably ruined Sam." You pointed at Dean. "And you- have you any idea how hard it is to get blood out of your jeans?"
"Oh sweetheart," he grinned, "you shoulda been here for the Leviathan goo. Now that shit stained." He and Sam both laughed. "We're fine by the way."
"Just strip." You said, shaking your head at him and reaching for Sam's jacket, helping to peel it off of him.
"Shouldn't we ask Sammy to leave first?" Dean winked, "maybe put a tie on the doorknob?"
Sam groaned and rolled his eyes. You made a similar face, "Forget it Dean. I"ll be occupied with your laundry for the next week. Oh God!" You held Sam's jacket as far away from your nose as your arm could reach, keeping the stench at bay. "You guys are so gross!"