Hello Beautiful SPN Family! I hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. I want to start by saying a HUGE thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read, review, favorite, or anything. You guys mean the world to me- your reviews are like manna. I am so grateful for each and every one of you. Sorry that it's taken me so long to publish- you know, life...ugh. Anyways, here's a little glimpse into Dean and Sam's "parenting" styles, LOL. I hope you enjoy it!

Much gratitude, hugs, and boatloads of thanks to Jenmm31. She's been an amazing friend, support system, and incredible muse! Seriously, like half the stuff I write comes from her questions about Natalie. I'm forever indebted to her! Go check out her stories- you can find them under my "Favorites". She's an incredible writer herself. Hey Jen- "Entrar en el coche, Sammy."

Please read, review, and enjoy! Disclaimer: Please see profile page.

A/N- in this story, Natalie is four

"Let it Goooooooooooooooo, Let it Gooooooooooooo, Can't hold it back anymooooooooooooooooooooooore..."

Sam and Dean both heaved an enormous sigh. Dean was driving, one hand on the steering wheel, the other hand holding his head up with his elbow propped against the window. Sam was rubbing his temples, trying to ease away the tension.

"Turn away and slam the dooooooooooooooooooooor..."

Dean pursed his lips and took a deep breath. This was the 479th time they had heard this song. Today. Natalie was buckled into her booster seat in the back, singing her lungs out. Sam finally took his hands off his head, and slapped them down on his thighs.

"Hey," he said to his brother, his voice full of annoyance. "Remember when I said that M&M's for dinner was a bad idea?"

"Sam, I'm already listening to the Best of Disney on permanent repeat- I don't need to hear 'I told you so' again for the thousandth time, alright?"

"I'm just saying that letting a four year old decide to eat nothing but sugar right before a long car trip isn't the wisest move you've ever made."

"Yeah, I got that. Now shut up."

Sam fell silent. Dean stretched his neck from side to side as they raced down the dark highway. It was almost ten o'clock- Natalie had to tire out sometime. She was already clad in her pajamas- a rule when they were taking long, late night car trips. If they had to wake her up to try to put pajamas on when they got to the motel, she would be up for hours. Dean prayed she was getting close to falling asleep after her one-toddler show.

"The cold never bothered me anywaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!" Natalie belted from the backseat. She applauded herself, and launched right back into the beginning of the song, complete with choreography.

"How long has she been at this?" Dean muttered. He'd never admit it out loud, but he would rather talk to his annoying brother than hear this song for the 480th time. Sam looked at his watch.

"Going on...thirty minutes now," Sam said despondently. Dean stretched his eyebrows up and exhaled slowly in an effort to keep himself from losing his mind.

"How did she even learn this stupid song anyway?" he grumbled under his breath. Sam shifted nervously, and looked out the window. Dean caught the guilty gesture. He swung his head around to look at his brother.

"Something you want to tell me?" he said, his own voice now laced with annoyance. Sam just fidgeted for another moment.

"Well..." he began nervously. "...come on dude, it's on TV all the time in every motel we go to. She was bound to see it sometime."

"Yeah, but enough to know the entire damn thing? How many times has she seen it?" Dean pressed. Sam stammered for a minute.

"Um...well..." he trailed off faintly. Dean's eyes narrowed. There was no way that the movie was on TV enough for Natalie to have the whole thing memorized.

"Give me your phone," Dean commanded.

"What?" Sam said in surprise.

"You heard me."

"You're driving."

"Big deal."

"What do you want my phone for?"

"I want to see if you downloaded the damn movie. And if you did, your phone is going out the window."

Sam put his hand over the phone in his pocket protectively. "Come on Dean. Do you really think I downloaded Frozen onto my phone? Natalie would never stop trying to steal it if I did that."

Dean paused- Sam had a point. Natalie knew she wasn't supposed to play with their phones, but she always claimed she was doing "research" every time they caught her with them. They certainly didn't need to give her any more reason to try to steal them. Dean thought for another moment, then turned his steely eyed glare back on Sam.

"Fine then. Did you download the soundtrack?" Dean asked. Sam, once again, fell silent. Dean cranked down his window, then held out his hand to Sam, palm up. "Give me your phone," he growled. Sam just rolled his eyes.

"C'mon, she likes it. And it helps put her to sleep," he said, justifying why Natalie knew the entire soundtrack by heart.

"Bang up job it's doing on that right now."

"Well, maybe if she wasn't pumped full of chocolate, it would have worked."

"Dude- do you have any idea how much Batman I'm going to have to watch with her to counteract this?"

"Like that's a problem for you."

"Oh god, I can't take it anymore," Dean moaned as Natalie launched into the song yet again. He loved this kid more than his own life. He could put up with just about anything when it came to her. But his level of patience was being severely tested at the moment. He looked at his daughter in the rearview mirror.

"Natalie, hey, Natalie!" he called, trying to get her attention through her solo concert. She cut off and looked at him in the mirror. He could almost see the sugar buzzing in her wide green eyes.

"Why don't we sing something else for a while?" he suggested. Natalie started bouncing up and down in her booster seat.

"Like what? Like what? Like what?" she chanted.

"I don't know...how about...hey- what about Guns and Roses? Huh?" he asked, his eyes darting back and forth between the road and the hyper child in the backseat. "C'mon, you love Guns and Roses!" he begged, just hoping to break the Disney cycle.

"Yeah! That's a good music to sing to!" Natalie yelled, losing control over her voice in her wound up state. "Welcome to the Jungle!" she screamed, sounding quite a bit like Axel Rose actually. The decibel level was now doubled what it was before. Sam clapped his hands over his ears before her rock and roll turn blew out his eardrums.

"Seriously?!" he shouted at Dean, who was now squirming himself.

"Yeah, okay, that's one's on me," he admitted gruffly. "Hey, NATALIE!" He practically had to scream himself to be heard over the four year old's vocals.

"Welcome to the JUNGLE!"

"NATALIE!"

"IT GETS WORSE HERE EVERY...what?"

"Maybe Guns and Roses wasn't the best idea. How about you sing something else?"

She furrowed her little brow for a moment, thinking. "I like the Frozen song to sing to!"

"Oh, no, I know that," Dean said in a rush. "But..." he mentally started kicking himself for this before it was even out of his mouth. "Is there another song from Frozen that you like too?" He really didn't want to hear anything else that was from any princess anything, but if he had to listen to "Let It Go" one more time, he was going to drive off the cliff.

Natalie put a finger to her lips, thinking. The boys gave a sigh of relief as the car was actually quiet for five seconds- the first time since leaving four hours ago.

"I think we should play Frozen instead of singing it!" Natalie announced, bouncing around again.

"What, like the soundtrack?" Dean asked, with a sideways glare at Sam, who was resolutely looking out of the window.

"No, no no, we play it! Like we pretend to be the people from Frozen!"

"Um...okay?" Dean said, shrugging. Anything to keep from hearing that song again, he thought.

"This is gonna be fun!" Natalie declared, giggling. "I'll be Elsa!"

"Which one is that?" Dean asked.

"She's the blonde one with the ice powers," Sam interjected. "You know, she has the really...long braid...that..." he trailed off as Dean did a slow burn to him, giving him a look that said could you possibly be more of a girl? Sam just looked out the window again.

"Yeah! Unca Sam's right! She's the queen and she has ice powers and she can freeze a kingdom and she sings Let It GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO..."

"Okay, okay! You're Elsa- great!" Dean said hurriedly, trying to cut her off.

"And Unca Sam can be Anna."

"I'm Anna?" Sam said, a tiny bit of disgust in his voice. Dean chuckled.

"Of course. You ARE a girl," he teased under his breath.

"Yeah! Because you're really nice and kind and you can put your hair in braids!"

Sam rolled his eyes as Dean hee-hawed at that one. "Okay, so I'll be Anna," Sam said gruffly.

"And Daddy, you can be Hans!"

"Who's Hans? Is he the really cool and handsome prince?" Dean said, puffing out his chest and putting on his best cocky grin.

"No. He's a jerk."

"So I get to play him?" Dean said, a bit off-put by the four year old's casting choices.

"Yeah, 'cause you're a jerk."

"Excuse me?" he said, a warning look in his eyes as he looked at Natalie in the rearview mirror. She has stopped fidgeting at his tone, but wasn't sure why she was in trouble.

"That's what Unca Sam calls you."

Dean shot Sam another dirty look. Sam sighed. "Okay, and THAT one is on me," he admitted.

"And Unca Sam's a bitch!" Natalie continued.

"No arguments here," Dean grumbled.

"Hang on Bug- you can't say that," Sam said.

"Why not?" Natalie asked innocently.

"Those are words for grownups," Sam explained patiently.

"Oh. Okay," Natalie said. Sam prayed that was the end of that, but with Natalie, that was rarely the case.

"Well, can we play Frozen then? Please please please please please?" she begged, undeterred by the rest of the previous conversation.

"Uh...sure. Sure we can," Sam said, looking to Dean for support. Dean just shrugged- he didn't have a flippin' clue what to do.

"Yay! I like this game! Do you have any ice?" Natalie said in a rush.

"What do you need ice for?" Dean asked.

"Daddy!" Natalie said with four year old scorn. "Elsa is the ICE queen. I got to have ICE," she announced, disappointed that her father was so slow on the uptake.

"Of course. My bad," Dean said, grinning in spite of himself at her tone. Sam shook the remainder of the gas station fountain drink he had- it was just about all ice at this point anyways. He turned around and handed it to his niece.

"Here you go, Bug. Lots of ice for you."

"Thanks, Princess Anna!"

Dean snorted.

"You're welcome," Sam said, his face flushing. Before either one of them could get another word out, they both felt wet, cold thumps on the back of their heads simultaneously.

"Hey!" they both yelled in tandem.

"Natalie, what do you think you're doing?" Dean said sternly, trying to fish the piece of ice out of his lap where it had slid down after nailing him in the head.

"I'm Elsa! I'm blasting you with my ice powers!" she said, giggling. Another hail storm of ice came from the backseat. This time, one piece slipped into Sam's collar, and he began a jumpy dance, trying to dislodge it.

"Okay, that's enough of that," Dean said, reaching behind him and snatching the cup out of Natalie's hands. He thrust it into Sam's chest, hoping that some more would spill on to his brother as punishment for giving a hyper four year old a cup of ice grenades.

"Hey!" Natalie yelled, outraged that her game had been ended so soon. "Give it back!"

"No. You know better than to throw things in the car," Dean scolded.

"I wasn't throwing things! I was blasting you with my ice powers!" she exclaimed, at a loss to understand why Dean didn't see the difference.

"Well, no blasting ice powers in the car either. We're done playing Frozen. Play something else."

"I don't want to!"

"Natalie," Dean said. He only said it once, but that was all she needed to understand what he meant. She folded her arms and thumped back against her seat, a frown on her face.

Sam tried to mollify the four year old. "Hey- how about your crayons? Do you want to color?" he asked in an attempt to distract her.

"It's too dark," she growled, pouting.

"Oh no," Sam said, looking at Dean. When Natalie got grumpy, that meant only one thing. "She's crashing." Natalie was clearly on the downward slope of the sugar high- never a good time. Sam turned in his seat towards his niece.

"Are you sure? Come on, you love to color," he said, handing the book and crayons over the seat to her. Within five seconds the crayons came hurtling back over the front seat.

"Hey!" Dean yelled, turning around quickly to catch his daughter's eye. "What did I just tell you about throwing things in the car, little girl?"

Natalie didn't answer. She knew when Daddy called her "little girl" that she was in trouble, and it was usually best not to say anything. Besides, she was still mad at him for not letting her play Elsa. Dean however, wasn't taking any of her attitude.

"Do you want a Time Out?" he continued sternly.

"No," she grumbled under her breath.

"Then knock it off."

They sped down the road in silence. Dean leaned his head back into his left hand. He hated being strict with Natalie, but neither was he going to let her start throwing things in Baby. She was getting into this habit more and more lately of just chucking whatever it was that didn't interest her any more. It didn't matter what it was or where they were- if she lost interest, it went flying. He knew he was going to have to deal with that particular quirk sooner rather than later, but not tonight. He glanced quickly in the rearview mirror to look at her again. She was still sitting with her arms crossed defiantly, but she was starting to slump down. She quickly drew a hand across her face and sniffed. Dean sighed to himself. Natalie hated crying- she always had. He had no idea why, but for some reason she hated the feeling of tears on her face, and whenever she started to cry, she would start running her hands over her eyes in an effort to make it stop. His heart twisted- it was his fault that her little system was going out of control due to all the sugar, not hers. He wanted to make it up to her.

"Hey," he said, in a gentler voice, hoping she would look at him in the mirror. She didn't. "How about Uncle Sam and I tell you stories?" he asked. His heart skipped a small beat when he saw her eyes swing towards his.

"How about the time that Uncle Sam found a lucky rabbit's foot?" he said. Sam shot Dean a bitch face, but Dean didn't care. Natalie was his daughter after all, and as such, absolutely loved stories about them falling or tripping or looking stupid.

"What's a lucky rabbit's foot?" Natalie asked quietly, but intrigued.

"It was this cursed object- a foot from a rabbit that had a charm on it. Now normally, rabbit's feet are supposed to be lucky. But in Sammy's case, his luck ran out," Dean said with a grin.

"What happened?" Natalie said, sitting up and dropping her arms. She loved a good story, and this one was new to her. Bolstered by her interest, Dean went on.

"Well, Uncle Sam got a hold of the rabbit's foot, and at first, everything was awesome. But then, when he lost the foot, that was when everything started to go wrong..." Dean launched into the whole story, leaving out the blood and gore parts that even he wouldn't tell a four year old. When he got to the part about Sam trying to scrape the gum off his shoe and losing it in the sewer, father and daughter were both laughing hysterically. Dean finished up the story.

"...and then his sleeve caught on fire in the motel room!"

Natalie was giggling madly by this time. "You were on fire?!" she gasped, choking on her laughter. Sam felt split- on the one hand, he was glad that she was getting out of her funk, but he was also disturbed by the fact that a four year old was giggling about him being on fire. And Dean wasn't helping- he was laughing just as hard as his daughter.

"Yeah, well, did I ever tell you about the time your dad got his butt kicked by a life sized Barbie?" Sam shot back. Dean immediately stopped laughing.

"What?" Natalie said, still trying to contain her laughter.

"Don't you dare," Dean growled at Sam. Sam just shot his brother his own cocky smile, and launched into his own tale about Dean and Paris Hilton. By the time he was done, Natalie was in hysterics, all bad moods forgotten. The boys continued to tell her stories, all about their adventures, each one trying to trump the last, as they sped down the highway. Finally, Dean looked at her in the rearview mirror again, only to find she had fallen asleep.

"Dude," Dean whispered, nodding his head back towards her. Sam turned, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw the sleeping child. About an hour later, they pulled up to the motel. After getting quickly checked in, Sam went to open the door to their room and get the bags while Dean took care of Natalie. He expertly unbuckled and scooped her out of her seat, her head slumped onto his shoulder. Sam got her bag out of the trunk first, and was fishing in it for her favorite blanket, tossing it to Dean when he found it. Dean gently laid Natalie down on the couch, tucking her in warmly. He just sat on the edge of the seat, watching her slowly breathing in and out.

"She go down okay?" Sam asked after bringing in the rest of the bags.

"Not a peep," Dean said proudly.

"And what did we learn tonight?" Sam asked his brother patronizingly.

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam's prissiness. "No more M&M's for dinner before long road trips."

Sam sighed, exasperated. "No, Dean. No more M&M's for dinner, period."

Dean shrugged. "Hey, if you're watching her for the night, I'm going to fill her full of so much sugar that YOU'LL get cavities." Sam just sighed and turned away, getting ready to sleep. Dean chuckled to himself, and then his gaze dropped back to his daughter. She fidgeted in her sleep, then started twisting a bit. Dean didn't know if she was having a bad dream or if she was just uncomfortable.

"Shhhhh," he said, reaching out a hand to stroke her forehead. The moment she felt his touch, she instantly relaxed, and a smile crossed her face in her sleep. Dean couldn't help but smile back. So she liked Disney crap- that was okay. She liked super heroes and ninjas too. He could deal with more Disney music in his life if that was what she wanted. It never really bothered him, anyway.