Challenge word: Indulge
Meaning: To yield to the desires and whims of. Especially to the point of excessiveness.
Word Count: 500. Because, you know, I'm awesome that way. *gryns cheesily*
Time Frame: Adult. Pick a season.
Warnings/Spoilers: Um, nope? CAUTION: Author does NOT assume any responsibility should the reader decide to mimic Dean. *holds up legal documents*
"Dude." The tone of wonder and awe catches Sam's attention, and he turns, backtracks the few steps that separate him and his brother. Dean points to the sign with a look that reminds Sam vaguely of religious fervor, and he follows the digit, to the wooden sign proudly proclaiming the vendor's wares.
"WE SELL DEEP FRIED PIE"
Which, of course, is normal. Totally. Who doesn't look at a pie, and go 'Hm, I think I'll deep-fry that!' But his brother is all but fan-girling over the sign, which just scrolls on and on and on with the various pie options. And by the sudden increase in licking his lips, Sam knows, just knows, that tonight will end with Dean bemoaning his dietary choices tonight.
But, Dean is a grown man, and if he wants to order one of every deep-fried pie they have, well…that's entirely up to him. Just starts scoping out a place for Dean to set the plate he'll soon have, heaping with fried sweets.
It was simple enough, a quiet week, driving just to drive, when the highway abruptly came to a complete stop. After sitting still for five minutes, they inched forward just enough to make out the sign up ahead, proudly proclaiming this city's vegetable festival of the year, and it seemed as if the entire town had turned out in anticipation of it. And when they had turned the bend of the road, and the sea of glittering windshields had, at first, looked like an ocean, well, Sam wasn't surprised when Dean proclaimed themselves on vacation for the day, and just followed the line of cars.
And muttered loudly and with vigor at the insanity of paying some redneck ten bucks to park in his yard. Eight blocks away. But that had been hours ago, and the contented, relaxed cast to his brother's shoulders implied that Dean was enjoying himself, and Sam couldn't really argue. It was nice, to just sometimes decide to be a civilian for the day, and enjoy what they risked life and limb for regularly. The band playing in the town center had been playing Led Zeppelin, and Dean had shook his head, said something about the tempo being off as the lead wailed about being a traveler of both time and space. He'd listened a bit longer, foot tapping lightly in time, before shuffling them off, stopping briefly at a church-run vendor tent, where they'd indulged in some damned tasty pumpkin pies. That was a half hour ago, and Sam was still pleasantly full.
And when Dean got done with that heap of pies, he'd be sicker than a dog. "Jesus Dean, how many did you get?"
The older Winchester shrugged, tossed a pie lightly from hand to hand. "Damn, but they're hot. I dunno. Told her one of everything."
Sam sighed, amused and tolerant, and just made a mental note to pick up some antacids on their way back to the motel.
Dean was gonna need 'em later.