"Find anything, Sammy?"
"Nope. Nothing that could vaguely be considered a hunt."
:
Dean began pacing back and forth, his handsome features contorted in a petulant scowl.
"Are monsters on a diet? Are ghosts tripping off with their reapers like good little yes-men? Are demons no longer making deals or possessing hosts?
What's the supernatural world coming to?"
:
Sam chuckled at his brother's theatrics. "You should be happy things are quiet and no humans are being preyed upon, Dean."
Dean's hoot of derision echoed through the library. "Hell, no, Sam! I need a hunt to keep me on my toes. I'm missing that sweet adrenaline spike. In other words, I'm bored out of my mind."
Shutting down his laptop, Sam got to his feet and grabbed his brother by the arm.
"Come on. Even if there's no hunt, we need to get you out of here, or we'll end up punching each other out just to have something to do. We'll take the Impala and go on a road trip. If we're lucky, maybe we'll run into a hunt on the way. Go get your duffel. We'll meet outside. Last out closes up the bunker."
The scowl faded immediately from Dean's face, just as Sam knew it would. Driving his Baby came in a very close second to chopping off vamps' heads or whupping witches' asses, his big brother's current favorite hunts.
"Don't ever leave me, Princess," Dean retorted, a twinkle in his eye. "I'd be lost without you!"
Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's overacting, though he couldn't deny that maybe there was a kernel of truth to it!