Great, just great, Ulfric was dictating the next chapter of 'Dude Were's My Apocalypse', then the last quarter of the document disappeared, and now Fergus has his teeth in my leg again...

Chapter Nine

Sam finally managed to impose a roster system for music, during which they would take turns to choose the entertainment, by threatening to splash holy water around and buy a soy milk smoothie and down the whole thing.

We need snacks, declared Dean.

We don't, replied Sam.

Seriously, we need snacks, insisted Dean, I'm hungry.

You want snacks, corrected Sam, Not the same thing.

Yes it is! Sam could feel the pout. I'm hungryyyyy! I'm hungryyyyyyy!

"Dean, you're a frigging demon!" Sam snapped, "You don't have to eat!"

But I want to, Dean whined, Come on, Sammy, I'm hungry. And bored. But mostly hungry.

"Dean, we need to get to your body ASAP," Sam pointed out, "So we should probably just keep driving, get there as soon as we can."

"I vote for that," agreed Crowley. "Let's not prolong the horror any more than is absolutely necessary."

Saaaaaaaaam! Dean was insistent. Saaaaaaaam! Don't ignore me! Pay attention to meeeeeeeee!

Knock it off! Sam thought sharply, Jesus, you're as bad as Lucifer!

No I'm not, sniffed Dean, he wanted to destroy humanity. I just want to destroy a cheeseburger.

Dean…

A double bacon cheeseburger, with extra bacon.

Dean…

And waffle fries. I love waffle fries.

Dean…

And a great big piece of pie, with cream, and ice-cream.

Dean…

And some wings for Jimi, he loves wings, look at him, Sam felt his head glance sideways into Jimi's adoring eyes, How could you not pay attention to an animal that loves you unconditionally, and would lay down his life for you?

I'm doin' okay ignoring you, Sam shot back a tad smugly.

Dean went quiet.

"Can I assume that the problem child has finally shut up?" enquired Crowley politely. "Yes? Good. Because it's my turn with the radio. Now, I thought something miserable and morbid, to match my mood, so I suggest we listen to Rachmaninoff…"

Sam's breath hitched as felt a small stab of cramp hit his stomach.

"Argh! Dean was that you?"

The cramp lingered, gnawing at his gut, then it transformed into a startlingly loud rumble.

Crowley looked up. "Did you hear something?"

Sam's eyes crossed as the simmering discomfort became a feeling of hunger, turning so intense that he felt nauseous.

An image of a burger arose in his mind, a burger on a shiny white plate, with a plump and fluffy bun, and two perfectly grilled prime mince patties topped with creamy slices of melting cheese, thick and luscious mustard dripping slowly down the side, and on the top layer, a generous, fragrant nest of thick, juicy bacon rashers, salty pink perfection…

"Nyaaaaaaa," went Sam.

…And stacked next to it, a pile of golden waffle fries, steaming gently, piled together in a riot of light crunchy perfection, as the scents from the plate tangled together playfully to stream to his nose, the delicious promise of the bacon and the glorious aroma of fried carbohydrate tantalising his senses with a sense of heady anticipation…

"Nyaaaaaaa," went Sam again, wiping at the small drip of drool as it started down one side of his chin.

…To be followed by a piece of pastry perfection, a piece of dessert heaven, a piece of pie, with a light and buttery golden-brown crust, filled with a sweet-yet-deliciously-tart mix of firm luscious fruit, the bright clean taste of spiced apple, or the dark, decadent delights of berries, heavy with thick syrup that mixes with the cream creating swirls of irresistible marvellously thick and rich mouthfuls that explode across the taste buds…

"Nyaaaaaaa," went Sam, clutching at the wheel as his stomach rumbled and his eyes crossed, "Dean, stop it! Stop it! Oh, God, I'm so hungry…"

It's how I feel, sighed Dean in a small voice.

Because you want to make me pull over to feed like a starving wolf, accused Sam.

No, Dean clarified, This is how I feel all the time.

Sam felt his eyes bug. ALL the time? You feel this hungry ALL the time?

Well, obviously, not ALL the time, Dean admitted. Like, when I'm sleeping. Although I do dream about pie. I had this really weird one, once, where I was in this pie restaurant, and Cas was the waiter, and he kept messing up my order, so I got all this pie for free. Or when I'm with a woman. Clearly, when the Living Sex God is struttin' his stuff, he's not thinking about pie, he's thinking about the beautiful, natural act he's engaged in, although there have been occasions where food has been a feature, for example, just a couple of weeks ago, there was this chick who was a chef, and…

"Don't you dare think about beautiful natural acts!" shrieked Sam, "I swear, I'll think about, about, uh, about… lavender! I'll think about lavender!"

You wouldn't! Dean's horrified thought shot through him.

"Just try me," growled Sam, "I swear, I'll think about lavender!"

Look, I'm only ever tryin' to educate you, complained Dean, And she was a really good cook, she was a professional, and she knew how to make a chocolate sauce…

Fields of lavender! thought Sam, Wide, green fields of lavender, as far as the eye can see…

Stop it! howled Dean, Stop it!

Sprawling, rolling green fields of lavender, waving gently in the wind, Sam's thoughts rambled on, All in flower, with the scent hanging in the air…

Sam…

…And the bees buzzing around, pollenating the flowers, making more lavender…

Sam…

…And the harvester cutting the lavender, and the smell of the oil permeating everything it touches…

Sam…

…Lavender-scented candles, lavender-scented soap, lavender-flavoured chocolate…

Huh? Sam felt his brother do a double-take. You can put lavender in chocolate?

…Lavender-flavoured cheese, lavender-flavoured honey, lavender-flavoured ice-cream…

Aaaaaargh! You're making this up, you freak!

…Lavender in the bath, lavender in the sheets, lavender in your sock drawer…

Come on, Sam! whined Dean's presence, Just one, just let me tell you about one little beautiful natural act…

…LAVENDER BEER!...

Aaaaaargh! Aaaaaaaaargh! Noooooooooo!

"Running naked through a field of lavender!" shrieked Sam. "With no clothes on!"

There was a moment of silence.

"Well," began Crowley eventually, "They do say that it's the ones who look so respectable on the outside that you have to watch out for."

"Shut up," muttered Sam, clutching the wheel.

"I pass no judgement," Crowley commented, "In fact, I see nothing wrong with a bit of outdoor free love. I remember once, I couldn't have been more than nineteen or twenty, and there was this girl named Louise, she was a milkmaid, and we were up on the heathland, and the heather was in flower. It had been quite unseasonably warm, you understand, or we wouldn't have been there at all, but we were young, and Spring was in the air, and…"

"Crowley, I am not interested in any of your Chicks I Have Banged stories, either," snapped Sam.

I am! Dean piped. Ask him if she was hot!

"Shut up, Dean," Sam muttered again.

"The most beautiful hair, she had," sighed Crowley. "And the arse of an angel. It was a perfect double handful."

Round, or heart-shaped? demanded Dean.

"And a smile that would make your knees wobble," Crowley reminisced, "And the tits of an Italian statue, seriously, if you saw them today, you wouldn't think they could be real, they were that perfect."

Ask about her nipples! prompted Dean, Were they perky?

"And the most amazing, I mean amazing, lips," Crowley smiled to himself, "Made Angelina Jolie look like Voldemort."

Yeah? What could she do with 'em? asked Dean.

"Shut up!" snapped Sam.

"Having a little brotherly tiff?" asked Crowley solicitously.

"No," Sam replied through clenched teeth, "Dean was just wondering if she, uh, was a good kisser."

"A good kisser?" Crowley snorted. "Dear boy, not only was she a wonderful kisser, she had a tongue like an anaconda and she could've sucked a golf ball through a straw…"

Sam was suddenly aware of a disconcerting sensation… down there.

'Huh?" he glanced down. "JESUS CHRIST!" he screeched. "STOP THAT YOU FUCKING PERV!"

The Living Sex God can't be blamed for reacting like a red-blooded male to the tale of the charms of the beautiful Louise, Sam could feel his asshole brother grinning.

"He can when he's doing the reacting with MY BODY!" Sam yelled in a shrill tone. "Knock it off! Oh, that is all kinds of wrong…"

It sure is, Sammy, sighed Dean, I don't know where I went wrong with you. I mean, look at that thing, with the tentacles, your sense of propriety. Tentacles, bro? I've seen enough hentai to know where that should be going...

"STOP IT!" howled Sam, "STOP IT!" He tried to think about the time he dropped a bowl of ice-cream in his lap.

Heh heh, ice-cream, Sammy? chuckled Dean. Kinky. I'm proud of you.

"DEAN!"

Hey, look, take the exit! Let's go get food!

"Not yet," growled Sam, "I'm not getting out of the car like… this. If you want to eat, think about, I don't know, cold showers."

"Funny you should say that, his brother's 'voice' was full of grin again, Because there was this girl, once, in Florida, and we were at the beach, and it was deserted, and we wanted to rinse off the sand, and so we got under one of those beach showers, and you know how cold water is supposed to be, uh, discouraging, well, it was weird, it had the opposite effect on us, it was kind of invigorating, and it segued into Round Two, so we…

If you don't shut the fuck up, right now, Sam thought, I will cover your fries with salt.

There was an internal silence.

You're mean, murmured Dean in a hurt tone.

It could be worse, Sam shrugged mentally, Did you know you can make apple and lavender pie?

I hate you.

We found out why Dean hates lavender so much at the end of 'Hot Stuff'. Meanwhile, *shudder* it's just all quite dreadful, really. Inevitable, perhaps, but quite dreadful nonetheless. Send reviews; I'll be over there, cowering in the corner with Sam's sense of propriety...