Disclaimer: I do not own "Supernatural."

Story Summary: Sam explains to Dean what his job translates to. :P

"Sorry, man, I've got bad reception – it sounded like you said I was a bounty hunter."

The fact that Dean's voice was serious and not sarcastic told Sam this was not going to go well.

He swallowed hard. "Uh, yeah. That is what I said – and a Private Investigator, too, sort of . . ."

A low, truly amused chuckle met that. "Nice, Sammy, can we get to the punch line soon, 'cause I'm tired and I'd like to get sleep some time tonight . . ."

Again, no sarcasm – at all. Maybe it was because he was tired . . . yeah, that was it. It had nothing to do with the fact that Dean couldn't even imagine Sam saying something like that seriously. No, nothing to do with that.

"It's not . . . I'm not -" Sam took a deep breath. "It's what I told Jess you do . . . for a living . . . and she told her sister and we're all having dinner together this weekend."

There was a pause this time.

Then, "You said what?"

There wasn't any sarcasm in that either, only incredulity.

Sam preferred the sarcasm.

"I had to tell her something . . . and it just . . . sort of happened. I was trying to think of something and not lie as much as usual, you know . . . and then she started drawing her own conclusions and then -"

"I was a bounty hunter," Dean inserted.

"Yeah."

"And a P.I."

"Yeah."

"Dude."

"Yeah, I know. I didn't mean to – it just happened, Dean. I swear, I was trying to . . . I don't even know . . . she caught me off guard and she was sad and . . . she thought you did something illegal and I wanted her to stop thinking that. And then she just . . . I honestly don't know what happened. She just – she -"

"Dude. Yeah. I've met Jess. I know."

Sam released a long breath, then, "One minute I'm telling her you find things, and then the next she's got you catching bad guys..."

"Catching bad guys?"

"Yeah."

Dean was silent.

God. Dean was going kill him. He could feel it. Although usually the yelling had started by now when he'd done something Dean was going to kill him for . . .

"Dean, are you pissed?" he asked, getting up to pace the floor of the study.

"Pissed?" his brother repeated, and Sam started to feel truly nervous for the first time. Had he done something even worse than he'd thought he had?

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But I couldn't think of anything and she . . . she looked so excited and for a minute I thought that maybe it . . . it fit a little bit, and I -"

"You told her I'm a bounty hunter," Dean cut him off.

"Yeah." Sam took a deep breath and confessed the rest. "Freelance."

"Freelance."

"You know, when you're not actually employed by an office, but you get paid by the people that hire -"

"I know what freelance is, Sam."

He swallowed hard. "Yeah, yeah . . . I know. I just," he sighed. "Are you mad?"

The line was silent.

"Dean? Come on, man, don't be mad -"

"Don't get your whities in a twist, Francis. I'm not mad."

"Then -"

"At you."

"What?"

"Dude. Do you know how impressed women are gonna be with a rogue bounty hunter? They fall all over that bad-boy shit."

Sam blinked, positive he was the one with the bad connection now. "What?" He he sat back down.

"I could KICK myself. I totally should have come up with this. I can't believe my lame-o baby brother thought it up -"

"Dean – what the hell are you talking about?"

"Women, Sammy. Christ. How did you land Jess in the first place?"

His mouth opened, but no words came out.

"I mean, I knew she was out of your league when I met her, but seriously -"

"Shut up."

Dean laughed.

"So you're really okay with this?" Sam asked after a moment.

Dean sighed, "Yeah, man. I didn't think you were gonna tell her that I hunt evil for a living. I'm just surprised you came up with something that's even remotely interesting."

"Asshole."

Another chuckle. "Are we done here? Can I go to bed now?"

"No. When are you coming in?"

"I dunno. Couple days."

"Georgia's freakin' far, Dean."

"Really?"

Ah, there was the sarcasm. "I'm serious. Try and stay in the vicinity, okay?"

"There's evil to hunt on the east coast too, bro," Dean answered. "We bounty hunters hafta to go where the bad guys lead, ya know."

"Let Dad go," he responded, ignoring the bounty hunter quip.

"Sometimes it's a two-man job, you know that."

"You said this turned to be a basic salt and burn; this was not a two-man gig. I mean it took more time to find it than get rid of it."

"This was different."

It was the suddenly soft tone that sent Sam's eyebrow's near his hairline, "Different how?"

"It just was. Don't worry 'bout it. I'll be there in a couple days. In time for this dinner thing – oh! Jess's sister hot or what?"

"NO!" Sam cried.

"Whoa! She that fugly, huh?"

"Don't under ANY circumstances hit on Jill. Ever." Sam grated out, visions of a steak knife embedded in his brother's hand flashing through his mind.

Dean huffed. "What the hell, Sam? You need to hang out with SINGLE women 'cause every time I get to Palo Alto it's like a took a friggin' vow of celibacy 'cause -"

"Jill is single and please don't get started on your sexual habits."

Dean laughed, "You blushing, Sammy?"

"Fuck you."

"So if this Jill-girl's single then why can't I--"

"Jill will eat you for breakfast, Dean."

"Dude, is that a bad thing?"

"Oh, God. I'm ending this conversation."

Dean laughed, "Sounds good. There's a bed calling my name."

"But seriously, don't hit on her. And from now on . . . try to stay closer to the area, at least for awhile? Just because . . . you know there are a couple more fittings, and the bachelor party, and the rehearsal dinner and then the wedding. So just . . . stay close, okay?" Sam tapered off a little, wondering if he was crossing a line or something.

Sometimes he crossed lines; said things that really set Dean off. It had happened more in the beginning, before he'd learned where the lines usually lay. Anything to do with Dad was usually a hit; sometimes asking if he was hurt – usually a blowout over that indicated that Dean was hurt; sometimes wondering how far he was . . .

The pause stretched and then Dean's voice came across, all teasing gone. "Okay kid, you got it. I'll stay close."

Sam nodded, even though his brother couldn't see him. "Okay, good. Thanks . . . and about the bounty hunter thing, just -"

"I'll play along, Sam," Dean stated, then chuckled. "Dude. I should get business cards – to give to women!"

A grin spread across Sam's face even as he rolled his eyes, "Call me when you get in town."

"Yes, baby, and I'll bring you flowers too."

"God, you're so annoying."

"And good-looking."

"'Night, Dean."

"Yeah, whatever."

It was Dean's parting shot before most conversations and this was no different. A moment later the connection ended. The words took things off the chick-flick avenue Dean claimed Sam lived on, and they never failed to make Sam smile. He set the phone down and chuckled to himself. That had gone surprisingly well. Maybe it was sign. Maybe everything would go well; maybe the dinner would go off without a hitch, and Dean and Jill would be platonic friends, and there would be no bloodshed – maybe.