PERFECT DAY - ALMOST
Word Count: 200
Disclaimer: I don't own them, I'd give very big thanks if I did!
The Winchesters have thrown the perfect Thanksgiving party for all their loved ones (and Crowley). Almost.
Note: This does not adhere to canon in any way, shape or form!
Sam glanced round the bunker at the aftermath of the Winchesters' thanksgiving celebrations:
Dean drowsily sacked out on the couch, his head in Charlie's lap, while she mischieviously tickled his ear and fed him chocolate peanuts.
Kevin and Castiel sitting on the floor together, listing into each other like a badly stacked house of cards; both spectacularly trollied on one bottle of Asti.
Bobby, slumped in an armchair, feet up on a dusty pile of Etruscan texts, thunderous snores shaking the light fittings.
Even Crowley, slumped in the corner, indulgently swirling his scotch and rocks around his glass, radiated an air of peaceful contentment in his trademark sneer.
He smiled to see Sherriff Jody, Sheriff Donna and Mama Tran emerging from the kitchen, giggling like schoolgirls as they carried trays of steaming coffees and plates of cookies.
Yes, it had been a perfect day, Sam mused, relishing the warm glow of stuffed pleasure that enveloped him as Sherriff Jody beckoned him over, patting the seat next to her.
Although, he thought, they might have to reconsider inviting werewolf Garth next year. Yes, the meal had been awesome; it would have been even better if any of them had actually been able to get near the turkey.