This chapter and the next will be shorter than the others, in order for me to get caught up on this story. Also, these don't really need much foreplay, so that helps a lot. Please enjoy December 2nd.

Disclaimer: I don't own SPN, Risk, Moby Dick, Barnes & Noble or Starbucks. Sadly.

Enjoy and R&R please! I love feedback!

Much like it's surprising heat in the summer, Kansas is surprisingly cold in the winter. It's not so much the temperature as the biting, whistling wind Sam swears is sharp enough to cut your face.

He hated it, preferring to stay indoors in his libraries reading, letting Dean brave the elements. It was only late November, so it wasn't truly winter yet- Sam knew the dates of all the solstices and equinoxes, seeing as how they were so vital to so many rituals and spells- but the chilling wind was already starting, and he had dragged out his old coat for warmth in the naturally cool bunker.

His stupid brother was relishing the cold. Dean had always enjoyed staying places that were cooler, only mourning the effect on his baby. When Sam preferred to stay indoors with blankets, hot chocolate and a thick book, Dean was building sleds and snowmen, and unknowingly using his natural charisma to find and round up enough kids to play a kind of Risk: Snowball Edition. (He always won.) So Sam knew his big brother was enjoying the cool weather, especially since he finally had a garage for his baby. And despite the fact that the increasing cold reminded him of a century in the cage, Sam swallowed his discomfort and added another layer of flannel.

Dean knew Sam was suffering from the persistent cold in the bunker. After all, Dean had been present when Lucifer had confessed his natural cool temperature and after a few hallucinations and drunken confessions, he had deduced that Sam's hell had been a much cooler one than his. Since then, he'd done his best to make sure Sam stayed as warm as possible. He also refused to take cases farther north than Cincinnati at this time of year.

Until Cas called their attention to a demon uprising in Seattle.

Sam agreed with no hesitation, despite the cool weather they were bound to have. Dean was perplexed but drove the 1,639 miles to Washington state. At his brother's insistence, no less. In fact, Dean thought with a frown, Sam seemed really excited to be going so far north when it's practically December. Unable to let sleeping dogs lie, Dean questioned his brother about it when he woke up to take his turn driving.

And immediately regretted it. Sam's eyes lit up like the Fourth of July. "In 1971, Starbucks was founded in Seattle," Sam informed him seriously, a sort of reverent tone to his voice. "Jerry Baldwin, Zev Siegl-"

"The hell kind of name is Zev Siegl?"

"Shut up, Dean. Zev Siegl and Gordon Bowker started selling coffee beans and coffee-making equipment but then they hired and eventually sold Starbuck to Howard Shultz, who's the CEO now and he started brewing their coffee and Dean- it's heaven. It's so flavorful and rich and awesome, it's unbelievable. They've got a partnership with Barnes &Noble Booksellers and free wifi at every location! AND the name is even literary; it's named after the first mate from Herman Melville's classic novel Moby Dick, Starbuck."

"'Call me Ishmael.' And what the hell kind of name is Starbuck, though, really?"

"A Quaker one, I guess. Starbuck is described as a 'thin, earnest Nantucket Quaker'." Sam looked over at his brother from the driver's seat, slight surprise on his face. "You've read it?"

"Yeah. Twice, actually. Once in high school, another time when you were at Stanford and I was laid up for a week with 20 stitches from a werewolf in my side." Dean looked amused at his brother's surprise. "I do read, you know."

Sam had the grace to be embarrassed. "I know. I just, I didn't think you would like it."

"Dude, it's about hunting a giant whale. That's freaking cool. And it reminded me of us a little, too. I kinda saw Dad as Captain Ahab, Moby Dick as the Yellow-Eyed Demon and myself as Starbuck (besides the religious part). Ishmael even reminded me a little bit of you, except I knew I could always depend on you. But Dad was so obsessed with finding the thing that killed Mom, that the whole thing reminded me of us, our lives."

Sam was quiet for a mile or so, once again in awe of his brother. "Wow. I never thought about it that way." With mock annoyance, Sam demanded, "Where was this literary insight when I needed it back in high school?"

"Scoring dates, little brother." Dean smirked as Sam barked out a laugh. Turning to the window to get some sleep before they reached Washington, Dean thought about his brother and his "hipster" love of coffee. Since this hunt was probably going to take them out of the bunker for December 2nd, Dean needed a new plan.

And he thinks he found it.

It was actually the morning of December 2nd when the Winchester's were finally able to leave Seattle. Dean went to get breakfast and coffee for the road, leaving Sam to pack up the room. Sam had already made them stop at the first Starbucks their first day in town, and had forced Dean to try a drink (which he would die before admitting that it was in fact the best damn coffee he'd ever had) and had bought himself an elaborate soy milk, pumpkin, nutmeg… thing in a souvenir mug.

Today, Dean stopped at that Starbucks by himself. He immediately was flagged down by a cute barista.

"Good morning! What can I get you today, sir?"

Dean gave her his most charming smile and placed his order.

Sam sighed as he heard his brother honk from the parking lot. "Sammy! Let's go! We'll eat in the car!"

Grabbing the bags they brought, Sam took them to the trunk and threw them in before climbing into the passenger seat of the Impala. He sighed tiredly.

And consequently breathed in deeply, sitting to attention when he smelled- "Is that Starbucks?"

Dean grinned at him and handed him a venti drink. Sam returned the smile. "You're awesome, bro."

"I know." Dean sipped his own drink and turned the car towards home. "Now grab some Zeppelin from the back, Sam. I need tunes."

Sam obligingly turned to grab the cassette box, and froze when he saw the back seat. On the bench of the Impala's backseat was a large tub of Starbucks coffee, every flavor, every size. Some were repeats, others had only one box. There was a set of mugs included, too. "Dean?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah?"

"What's this?"

"Well, I was getting us coffee this morning, and remembered we're all out of coffee at the bunker. So, while I was there and thinking about it, I decided, what the heck?"

Sam read between the lines and smiled, grabbing his brother's favorite Zeppelin cassette. Best present ever.