Author note: It's been some time since I attempted a Supernatural drabble. But after the failure of my recent SPN on shot, I figured it was time to get back to basics. I hope you enjoy. I think I hit closer to the mark with these.

Drabbles of the Brothers Winchester

In the Storm

"I know you heard me, Sammy," Dean groused. "Did I stutter? No."

Sam raised his hands in a conciliatory manner. "How could I have known, Dean? The online news photo showed clear ground and sunny skies."

"You're the researcher, Sam," Dean continued. "You should know."

"Yeah sure, Dean. It's my job to know that a freak snow storm is going to hit the middle of nowhere and keep us trapped in traffic for hours."

"I hate snow, Sam. I hate traffic even more," Dean complained, tapping his hand on the dashboard. "It's extra wear and tear on my Baby."

"Deal with it," Sam replied with a shrug. "By the way, you might want to embrace the snow."

"Why?" Dean asked, turning to look at Sam curiously.

"Remember how Bigfoot isn't real?"

"Yeah, so?"

"Not so for the Abominable Snowman," Sam said with a smile. "We have a credible sighting."

Safety First

"You brought me to North Dakota for the freakin' A.B.S.?" Dean scoffed, turning the corner from irritation to outright anger and disgust.

"If I recall correctly," Sam responded, unfettered. "'Just find us a case, Sam. I can't handle all this sitting around.'"

"And this is what you come up with when challenged?"

"Did you reload the shotguns?" Sam asked, ignoring his brother's ranting.

"Yes, Sam, I reloaded them?"

"With buckshot?" Sam asked sarcastically.

"Of course!" Dean growled, shooting a sour glare in Sam's direction. "Since when do you need to check my work?"

"Just asking," Sam replied, grinning. "I hear rock salt just make the Snowman mad."

Puzzle

"Agents Westin and Axe, Ma'am," Dean said as he flashed the fake ID in the face of their 'credible witness', a Ms. Roberta Brennan.

"You look a little young and soft for special forces, Son," Roberta said, while taking a little too long to appraise their appearance.

Roberta, for her part, was about 5'6 and weighed 150 pounds. She wore brown overalls and a white turtleneck under a heavy black coat which hung open. Her hair was curly and grey cut fairly close to her head.

"We're FBI, Ms. Brennan," Sam gently corrected. "Not military."

"You don't look right?" she said looking puzzled. She pointed at Sam. "You might look a little like Michael Westin with a haircut, but you're partner is definitely no Sam Axe. Who are you guys?"

"Listen, Lady, we're here to investigate your sighting," Dean said, irritation evident.

Sam stepped in front of Dean. "What he means is, we heard about what you saw and we came to see it for ourselves."

"Don't patronize me, young man," Roberta shot back. "I'm no fool. You better get your college asses of my property before I go back inside for Stanley."

Dean snorted. "Who's Stanley? You're husband?"

It was Sam's turn to glare at Dean. Dean shrugged but stepped aside to appraise the house and yard.

Her face scrunched in frustration as she turned and trotted up the steps back inside the house.

Solitude

"Who k-knew Stanley was a long r-range hunting rifle," Sam chattered as the two brother hiked up a trail Roberta had shown them.

"You are so gonna pay for this, Sammy," Dean bit out, hugging his leather coat tighter around him. "Hiking in the snow without proper gear is almost as bad as a season in Hell."

Sam rolled his eyes, but knew Dean was right about the proper clothing for hunting in subzero temperatures. He shivered.

"This is the place," Sam said, pointing to the tree Roberta had marked. "Smart woman; marking the place where she saw it."

"It was a bear, Sam," Dean argued. "A.B.S. is a fairy tale."

"Kind of like your abs?" Sam jibed.

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"What now?"

"We wait and watch for a few hours and then head back into town for proper gear."

"Are you nuts?" Dean countered. "We'll be permanent additions to forest in a few hours. We'll be mistaken for small trees."

"Maybe I will," Sam quipped. "Not sure about you. A stump maybe."

The brothers found a felled tree nearby and took up their vigil.

Thirty minutes later…

"This sucks, Sammy," said through blue lips.

"Totally," Sam agreed, brushing the gather snow from his hair. "Let's go."

Relaxation

An hour later, the Winchester brothers sat in a 'greasy spoon' named Pearl's.

"I almost forgive you, Sammy," Dean mumbled through a bite of Boysenberry pie. "This pie is perfection!"

"I'm so glad you're satisfied," Sam replied, taking a pull from his coffee cup. "Maybe now you'll quit your bitch."

"You have to admit you really screwed the pooch with this job," Dean said. "Waste of time and effort."

Sam slammed his sizable fist on the table which shook everything. "One more complaint out of you and I'll find a way to leave your ass here. And by leave your ass, I mean steal your car."

"You wouldn't dare!"

Sam place a hand to his ear and leaned toward Dean.: "One…more…complaint."