MISTER MULTI-TASKER
WOW: pleasure. Dean's work ethic can't be faulted - in more ways than one.
Disclaimer: I don't own them
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Sam watched, amused, from a discreet distance as Dean schmoozed the haunted factory's pretty receptionist, and wasn't at all surprised when Dean turned back to him tucking a scrap of paper with her cell number into his breast pocket.
Later, he had to sit opposite Dean in a local diner, discussing their latest case while Dean enthusiastically snarfed down pretty much every meat item on the menu. In fact, Sam couldn't be sure he didn't actually eat the menu as well.
It felt like sitting opposite a combine harvester. Still, at least it had helped Sam develop a strong stomach over the years – that was handy for their work.
Later, in the small town's most popular, or possibly only, bar, Sam kept himself to himself, focussing on their job while Dean canvassed the locals under the guise of playing pool, ordering cholesterol-laden bar snacks and flirting shamelessly with the shapely barmaid.
Back at the motel, Dean luxuriated in the shower, leaving Sam with approximately thirty-five seconds of hot water, and later demanded Sam go through his change to help enable Dean's Magic Fingers habit.
Working a job with Dean was all at once amusing, frustrating, infuriating and exhausting.
But above all, Sam couldn't help but admire his brother's formidable talent for mixing business and pleasure.
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