Bathtime Friends!

Another day, another salt and burn...and another wicked as hell spirit put to rest wherever it wound up. Dean and Sam both tried not to think about that fact, they just knew they had to stop whatever it was before anyone else was either hurt or killed or both. And now that the job was done, they could kick back for a few days and have a little fun. At least, that's what Dean had in mind and he spent the better part of the drive trying to convince Sam that he should do the same. Another age-old argument that usually went flying right out the window in the last mile or two.

They ended up staying in a motel just outside of Little Rock, Arkansas and even though the place wasn't anything like the Hilton, it was a far cry from some of those wildly themed or ratty old rooms they'd stayed in before. Sam caught the slight scent of vanilla when they walked inside and Dean noticed that when he pulled the bedcovers back, not only were there no bugs but no suspicious stains anywhere either.

"Huh...who knew we'd end up in a place like this after all, Sammy," Dean said as he tossed a pillow back down and shrugged his duffel down on the foot of the bed closest to the door.

"It's 'Sam'," his brother muttered as he set his laptop on the faux wooden table, his back turned. "And go shower, man, you smell like goat."

Dean stopped rifling in his bag for clean underwear and glanced at Sam from over his shoulder. "How..." Dean smirked and passed by Sam, hitting him in the back of the head with clean boxers. "Never mind, I don't wanna know how you know that, little brother." Dean laughed from behind the bathroom door when he heard what sounded like Sam's boot hit dead center, rattling the hinges. "Easy, Sam! I wanna keep my privacy here!" Dean's laughter echoed out into the room when another one slammed harder against the door.

While Dean was busy, Sam turned on the television and did the usual routine of laying out the salt lines, then he flopped down in a chair and turned on the laptop. "And hurry it up, I don't wanna be out all night again!" Sam yelled, unable to hide his smirk at Dean's response. "Yeah, yeah...keep your panties on, Samantha!" The groan of pipes and then the sound of running water left Sam hoping his brother wouldn't use up all the hot water...again.

Meanwhile, Dean did a quick inspection of the bathroom and stripped out of his smoke and dirt covered clothes, tossing them into the far corner for now. Carefully, he pulled back the shower curtain and seeing nothing but a few harmless water stains, he turned the knobs and set the temperature. Dean let the showerhead run for a minute before he did another check and stepped inside, dousing his hair and face first, then reached for the wrapped soap. The sooner he got out of there, the sooner he could drag Sam off to the bar down the street and find a little fun for the both of them.

And Sammy could bitch and moan about it all he wanted to, the fact remained that his little brother seriously needed to get laid or drunk or maybe both. He'd been getting on Dean's last, dying nerve since the last hundred miles and if Sam pulled that damn bitchface at him one more time, his worries about demons were over. Dean would kill Sam all on his own.

A knock from the other side, along with Sam's voice, told Dean that he should 'come on' and that he'd 'been in there for over half an hour already'. With a roll of his eyes, Dean shut the water off and reached out, grabbed the thin towel and stepped out as he dried off. And he'd just about finished, had sat down on the closed toilet to dry both feet when he looked up and there it was.

"Shit..."

It was less then five feet away from him but it was damn close enough that Dean froze, staying right where he was. He didn't move. Hell, he wouldn't even breathe, one small puff of air to alert that thing and there was no telling what it might do! And he couldn't call out to Sam because...well, he just couldn't. Besides, Dean Winchester wasn't afraid of anything and even if he was, which he wasn't, he sure as hell wasn't going to let his kid brother in on it. And then, it moved...

"Fuck..."

His boots were the only weapon he had and of course, when he got undressed, he'd taken them off by the sink. The same sink which was so conveniently located on the other side, between him and that...thing.

"Think, Dean...c'mon, think!" His voice was barely a whisper but it was enough noise and when the fearsome thing moved again, Dean honestly made a sound that he would never admit to even when he was on his deathbed. First one foot crept up and then the other until he was crouched on the toilet lid with towel in hand. A towel. The only thing he had that was useful, or useless, as the case may be.

Finally, Sam waited long enough. He'd already gone through one email after another, there was nothing at all on television and Dean had been in there close to forty-five minutes now. And if he didn't come out this time, Sam was going in anyway, boxers in one hand and toothbrush in the other.

"Dean!"

The thing flinched and drew up, looking ready to attack the occupant that was banging on the door. Dean flinched and made another feeble noise, drawing both knees square up to his chest with both arms wrapped around them, towel clutched and wringing in both hands now.

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean hissed but apparently, Sam couldn't hear him and when he yelled at Dean again, banging on the door harder this time, it literally skidded across the floor and Dean was suddenly standing up on the unsteady lid, trying to hold his balance. And of course he wasn't shaking, he was just cold because he hadn't had time to dry off completely and it had absolutely nothing to do with that damn creature having crossed the distance by two more feet closer to Dean.

Sam knew that Dean didn't always answer him right off, that wasn't the problem. The problem was that Sam couldn't hear anything. No water, no movement, nothing and that's when his instincts kicked in. He moved quietly and set the boxers and toothbrush on the table, picked up Dean's gun and checked it before his hand rested on the doorknob. His back against the door, he turned the knob and when he found it wasn't locked, Sam counted to three and flung the bathroom door open.

At first, since he hadn't had a chance to salt the window in the bathroom, his gun aimed straight at Dean because Sam expected almost anything. But he hadn't expected to see the pale, terrified look on his older brother's face. They'd been through this before when one of them hadn't been careful and turned the gun on the other briefly. And Dean wasn't afraid of guns, at least not when Sam held it.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was quiet, confused. It was then that he realized his brother was not only scared out of his mind but he was standing naked on the toilet lid, clutching the towel at his crotch and staring wide-eyed straight at the floor. Sam's gaze, as well as the Glock he held, followed Dean's stare and when he saw what Dean was looking at...

"Oh...my God..."

It started out as a nervous cough and Sam felt his brother's eyes on him instantly.

"Sam...I swear, if you..."

"Dean, it's..."

The damn thing started creeping backward and Dean shifted clumsily.

"I know what it is!" Dean growled through clenched teeth, his green eyes flashing fire as he glared at Sam.

Sam tried to breathe a sigh of relief but it came out as a snicker and he tried to cover it with a sniffle.

"I swear to God, Sam, I will shoot you in your sleep if you don't do something!" Dean yelled and when Sam dropped the Glock down on the sink, he instantly regretted it.

Everything happened at once. The noise Sam made caused the creature to skitter across the floor and so rapidly toward Dean that he was literally dancing on the toilet lid, making sounds that Sam had never heard coming from his older brother. But in an instant, before Dean decided to crawl up onto the tank, Sam grabbed a towel from the rack and flung it hard, snaring the creature expertly. He rushed over and grabbed the edges quick enough that he could turn the towel upside and trap it inside, holding the edges tight enough at the top so it couldn't escape.

With a proud glance at his brother, Sam held it out and quipped, "You wanna do the honors?"

Sam had seen Dean angry, he'd even seen him furious a couple of times. And there was at least once when he could remember Dean being in a rage. But he could not and would not ever forget seeing the look of pure unadulterated murder written in his brother's eyes and Sam made a quick, silent retreat into the room. Still holding the creature captive, he walked over to the door, opened it and dropped the towel down on the concrete walk. He really tried to keep it in, honestly, he did. But when the towel unfolded and the creature cautiously peered out, Sam was snickering and biting the inside of his mouth...hard.

Dean chose that moment to poke his head out of the bathroom. "Where is it?"

Sam watched the thing leap from its prison at the sound of Dean's voice and make a mad dash straight underneath the Impala...and that was it. Sam was laughing so damn hard that he turned heads from all the way across the parking lot and even in the office. He slumped helplessly against the doorway, clutching his sides and trying to breathe while Dean yelled one angry curse after another at him.

"It's not funny, you dick!" Dean shouted and the bathroom door slammed hard enough to loosen the top hinge. Sam collapsed on his ass, gasping for every breath he could get. And Dean wouldn't hear him but he said it anyway. "Christ, Dean...it's just a...harmless house spider..."


THE END!

(AN: This actually happened to me, walked into the bathroom one AM and there it was. And if you've ever seen a house spider, their legs alone are enough to make you shudder! Hope you enjoyed the fruits of my fears! lol)