Timeline: February 2003, Pre-Iron Man, Pre-SPN

Chapter Two, "2. Stark Weapons, for the Hunters in All of Us"

Once I rose above the noise and confusion,

Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion,

I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high.

"Carry on My Wayward Son," Kansas

"Winchester."

"John – I told you to stop using me as your damn mailbox!"

"Hey, Bobby. So I guess you got the box?"

"No shit, idjit. What the fuck's in the box?"

"You haven't opened it, yet?"

"No, I'm just asking for shits and giggles. What do you think, numskull?"

"Look, it's from Dean. Him and his guy have been playing around trying to build guns specifically for hunters."

"I thought Dean retired?"

"He is. He's not going into the field, but it's looking like he wants to do some behind-the-scenes stuff."

"Behind-the-scenes stuff involves making weapons?"

"He's with the number one arms dealer in the world – it's not too far a stretch. And apparently Tony was offended that hunters hated his brand."

"Did you tell him about Kirk and why exactly we steer clear of 'em?"

"Dean did, and Tony apparently took that as a challenge. Dean's been working with him on them."

"Well, I'll believe it when I see it."

"You can see it right now – they're in the fucking box. Two of everything they've been working on. One for me and one for you, asshole."

"Why didn't Dean call and tell me?"

"It's nearing Valentines if you didn't notice. I was barely able to get through my phone call from Dean without hearing way too much. Look, I don't want to talk about it. Just open the damn box and tell me what you think of them. I can't get there until tomorrow at the earliest."

"Call you in an hour."

[An hour later]

"Winchester."

"They're adequate."

"Good to know my son-in-law nearly blew himself up for 'adequate.' C'mon, really – they better or worse than what we use?"

"You let me try things that blew somebody up?! You fucking ass-"

"Nearly – nearly blew somebody up. But they found the problem and blowing up is no longer an issue. And all of Tony's sight returned. Anyway, so? What's the verdict?"

"They're better."

"Great – I'll be over to yours tomorrow."

"You got the money you owe me?"

"I told you, that bet's off – Dean's pan-o-sexual."

"Your son likes cock – he's gay."

"He also likes pussy, so we both win the bet. No dice."

"He's currently shacked up with a man who built the weapons I currently have in my possession and can easily keep from you."

[pause]

"So, what's your decision?"

"Fine – I'll bring your damn money."