The place Bobby had sent them to was called "Woodies." Jensen had expected a dive; if it wasn't a Biggersons or a diner, a dive was the only kind of place he thought Sam and Dean would hang out. But this place, although it certainly wasn't a place he'd normally be caught dead in, definitely wasn't a dive. It had the look and feel of a kitschy hunting lodge; everything was made of wood and the walls were decorated with preserved fish and animal heads. Towards the back of the room, a huge moose head hung over an unlit fireplace, behind what looked like a small dance floor. In the right corner of the room a few feet from the dance floor, some high-topped tables surrounded what looked like a little gaming area with a Foosball table and a dart board. There, of course, was a bar in front of them when they first walked in, but the guys sitting at it looked like a mix of blue and white collar working class people. The dining room, which lay beyond the bar, mostly had its tables and booths filled with flannel-wearing couples and groups of friends, but there were even a couple of families seated here and there. Yeah, this place didn't look sleazy enough for Dean, probably Sam, too. Comically, it actually looked like some place Dean might try to bring a respectable date, if he ever got one. Wait…he and Sam weren't…were they fucking dating? The whole idea was ludicrous, but if someone had asked him an hour ago, he would have said the same thing about the two of them fucking. But now the image of that bed had been forever burned into his retinas and from now on whenever he finished a take, he would be forever left with the horrible knowledge of what was really going on behind the scenes.

This trip into Bizarro Land jacked up everything. Before this, Jensen had had a very clear idea of his show and his character. He was proud to play Dean. Yeah, sure, he knew the guy was kind of a white-trash redneck, but Dean was at least manly, or so he thought. He could get shot or have his shoulder broken and still go chasing after a demon, or suture himself up using nothing but whiskey, dental floss, and a fishing hook. But it turned out, the guy really kept an anal plug in his underwear drawer and possibly went out on romantic dates with his own brother. Well, possibly. Maybe they didn't. Maybe they had never even been to this place, and that was why Bobby had sent them there.

The hostess greeted them with a wide, friendly smile. "Hey guys! You're back! How's Bobby?"

Alright, never mind.

Jensen put on his best Dean 'tough-guy' look. "Can we just get a table?"

The hostess's smile vanished. "Okay, sure. Jeez, sorry. Bad day? Or…do you have a cold?" Jensen stared, feeling a little confused. "It's just your voice, it's kind of I don't know, weirdly deep and gravelly today." Jensen gaped at her. Was she making fun of his Dean voice? Oh, that bitch.

"Sorry about him." Jared was using his most earnest Sam voice, the one he used when Sam was doing damage control. "He's kind of an idiot sometimes."

Her eyes grew wide and she blinked in surprise. "Um, okay, why don't I just get you that table?"

After they were seated and she'd walked away, Jared stared at Jensen with pursed lips and narrowed eyes.

"Oh, nice job with the bitchface, Jared; very Sam-like."

"This is my 'what the fuck is wrong with you being rude to the hostess' face."

Jensen shrugged. "What? I was just trying to be like Dean."

"Yeah, well, while I'm stuck out with you in public, try a little less."

"Well, what about you? You obviously weren't pulling off a very convincing Sam act, the way she looked at you."

Jared's scowl deepened. "Whatever."

They stared at their menus and didn't talk for several minutes. Jensen was barely even looking at it, he was so busy processing everything that had happened that day; going through a window, almost getting a fishing hook in his face, being literally touched by an angel, finding Sam and Dean's bed…

Fuck, that bed. At least he wasn't going to be sleeping in it. He wondered what he and Jared should even do to act more like Sam and Dean at this point. Should he…should they hold hands? No; no way in Hell was he doing that. And he was pretty sure Dean wasn't the holding hands type. Well, at least, he thought he wasn't, but what the Hell did he know? What did either of them even know at this point?

"What do you think we should do?"

Jared looked up from his menu with a slightly disgusted expression on his face; it seemed he must have been wondering the same thing. "Just try to blend in, I guess."

Jensen leaned forward and lowered his voice. "Hey, do you think Kim knew? Or Eric?"

"Huh." Jared looked thoughtful for a while. "Maybe; they did joke around about it a lot."

"Did Kim give you that, uh, story a few years ago?"

Jared's face flushed and he looked back down at his menu. "That Wincest thing he pulled off a fan fiction website and then stuffed into our scripts? Yeah, I got that. I…did a few things I'm not proud of when he did that. Feel kind of bad about it now that he's dead."

"Wait…was that the thing you almost quit over in season two?"

Jared shrugged. "Got a raise out of it."

Jensen's mouth dropped open. "Dude. That is douchey."

Jared shot him another angry look, but right then the waitress stepped in front of their table. "Hey guys! What can I get ya?"

Jared smiled in a way completely unnatural to him. Which was fine because most of his smiles, at least when Jensen was around, were cruel, mischievous, arrogant, or some mixture of the three. The only problem was that he was obviously trying to play Sam again and Jensen was sure that smile wouldn't look natural on Sam, or anybody else for that matter. Jensen always hated the way Jared made Sam smile; he just always looked constipated. More than once, Jensen had been tempted to slip a box of Ex-Lax under his trailer door with the note, "for your acting" attached to it. He might have, too, if Jared didn't have such a notorious reputation for not being able to take a joke.

"Hi, I'll have the flat iron steak, sides of broccoli and a baked potato, please."

"And I'll have the Caesar salad with chicken, please."

The waitress quirked her eyebrows, amused. "Dean, you're joking, right? You want me to just put in your usual cheeseburger, fried egg on top?"

Jensen's stomach did a twist just thinking how much he'd throw up if he ate that much grease. He smiled politely and handed her his menu. " We're, uh, we're trying something new."

She took it with a confused look and left. Jensen groaned.

"Seriously? We can't even order without getting weird looks. You'd think Bobby would've sent us to a place where not everyone knows these guys."

Jared shrugged. "Yeah, well, they've been coming here since they were kids, right? So I guess it would be hard for Bobby to find a place where at least a few people didn't know them."

Jensen frowned at the table. Jared was right. God, did he hate it when he was right.

"Besides," Jared broke in. "A salad, really?"

"You said not to try to be like Dean."

"Yeah, well…try a little bit."

"Well, what about you? Flat-iron steak. Really?"

Jared quirked an eyebrow. "Sam eats meat. Besides, have you seen me? You don't get to be this big by being a vegetarian."

"Yeah, well you don't get to look like me by eating bacon cheeseburgers."

"No, I guess it must be those vigorous preening sessions."

Jensen leaned back and crossed his arms. Stupid Jared. He bet Sam was way better company than this guy. Well, whatever Sam and Dean did when they were here, they definitely didn't behave this with each other; everyone at the restaurant was thrown off by the way he and Jared were interacting. The hostess probably thought they were fighting, (which wasn't entirely untrue,) while the waitress probably thought he and Jared were going to end up switching plates. He wondered what kind of evenings Sam and Dean usually spent at this place. The wait staff seemed to like them enough, so the guys were probably pretty pleasant whenever they were there. He looked out among the evening crowd and imagined Sam and Dean sitting at one of the empty booths across the room, laughing, sharing private jokes, reminiscing about a concert or an old hunt. Jensen hadn't had a good time like that with anyone since he was a kid, and certainly never with Jared.

Although, some of the directors and producers on set had tried hard enough to get them to like each other during the first few years of the show, especially Kim Manners. The guy always had some scheme arranged to get him and Jared to talk to each other. At first, it was, "oh, you're from Texas? Well, how interesting because so is Jared." Except that Jensen didn't much care where Jared was from. Besides, there were a lot of people from Texas; it was a big-ass state. After that, it was, "Hey, I heard your favorite song is 'Freebird.' Well, did you know that Jared is a huge classic rock fan?" Yeah, great. The guy liked classic rock; so did a lot of people. Besides, 'Freebird' hadn't been his favorite song since high school; he was more into country music now. After that, Kim had inexplicably poured two buckets of water on them one day when they were in the middle of filming a scene. It had taken two hours to get their clothes dried, hair and make-up fixed, and the scene set up again. Jared had been so pissed that he'd refused to come out of his trailer for an additional two hours after that.

"Do you think," he began before he even realized he was talking out loud. "Do you think that Kim put that story into our scripts because he wanted us to –"

"No!"

Jared's voice was so forceful that Jensen jumped a little in his seat and then stared at him with wide eyes and a slacked jaw. The couple at the table beside them turned in their seats and shot them annoyed glares for a second. For his part, Jared also looked a little surprised at how loudly his had come out, and then looked at him a little sheepishly.

"They couldn't air that stuff on the network," he added in a quieter tone, "this isn't HBO."

Wait, Jared thought he meant what now? Oh. Oh! Jensen had never thought of that before.

"I was going to say talk to each other."

"Oh." Jared's cheeks turned a little pink. "Um, yeah, maybe."

"Why would you think I'd even suggest Kim would've wanted us to do that?"

"It's been a weird day, okay?"

"I mean, did you read that thing? It wasn't even fit for HBO After Dark!"

Jared cocked his head and raised an eyebrow. "Wait, don't tell me you read the whole thing?"

"Well…" Okay, now it was Jensen's turn for his face to get red. He remembered that day, quietly reading the script in his trailer and feeling red-faced and ashamed as his pants grew a little tight from the gradual swelling between his legs. "No, not the whole thing. But I was… confused for a little while."

"Confused? About what – whether or not you were on the Wincest bandwagon?"

"Well, at first, I didn't know what it was. I think in the beginning Dean was doing something like watching Sam sleep. He does that kind of shit sometimes. And they were sharing a bed, but they're always in each other's space anyway, and sometimes Eric had approved some pretty ambiguous stuff between those two in our scripts before."

Jared grinned maliciously, even though his cheeks were only flushing deeper. "And this whole time I thought you were a Sam girl."

"I didn't know where it was going!"

Just then, the waitress came around with their plates. Jared picked up a fork and knife, sawed up a big piece of steak with gusto, and stuffed it into his mouth. Jensen jabbed a fork into his salad and they fell into silence for a while.