"Make Kripke Kry!" A Fantastic Fic Fest
On this, the second week anniversary of having a certain giggly gentleman RIPPING out our hearts (using meathooks? Oh yes, I think so!), the unholy triumvirate of myself, memphis86, and ignited hereby welcome you to the first happytime making fic meme at ohnokripkedidnt!!
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The awkward thing about watching Dean open a pie shop was that... well, Dean didn't know anything about pies beyond the fact that he loved eating them. It shouldn't have been enough. Can't sell pies if you don't know how to make them, right?
But Sam should have known better than to doubt his brother, because apparently Winchester perseverance was good for more than just taking out demons and settling spirits. It could also turn out a mean blueberry pie when pressed. And apple, cherry and strawberry-rhubarb, apparently, and Sam realized he probably shouldn't have let Dean talk him into making a bet out of it.
Because now Sam was stuck. He had to help run the pie shop, because apparently Dean didn't feel like applying himself to the business end of things. No, that would be too practical, and Dean was busy with other things. Important things. Pie related things, thank you very much, and Sam couldn't seem to get his attention without debating the merits of various flours anymore.
He stuck it out, though. A bet was a bet, and eventually the whole Running a Pie Shop in a Tiny Little Town on the West Coast stopped feeling like the strangest turn their lives had taken. It wasn't like that much changed. They had runes and sigils carved in discreet locations throughout the shop, and way the hell more salt in the pantry than any pie shop in the world had a use for. Every pie sold bore a devil's trap carved into the crust, and all the customers glowed about how distinctive it was.
For Dean's birthday Sam got him a new sign to hang out front. "Winchester's Pies," it read, with an enormous crimson devil's trap emblazoned behind the text. Dean's eyes teared up at the sight, and business picked up even more once they hung it up.
"You know," said Sam after a late night of inventory. "No one here has any idea we're related."
"That so?" said Dean, mouth set serious, but his eyes sparkled with smile.
"You know it is. And you know what they all think."
"Hmm," said Dean. Noncommittal, easy shrug of his shoulders, and Sam turned to pack up the receipts.
It wasn't until a week later it came up again, how the whole town had the wrong idea about who Sam and Dean were to each other.
"Maybe they're not wrong," said Dean, eyes locked on the horizon outside.
"Maybe not," said Sam, and it was invitation enough. Dean tasted like a mix of fruits, probably because he couldn't resist snacking on them all day while he baked, and Sam licked the flavor from his tongue.
Ten years down the road they had a hell of a lot of money, thanks to a corporate contract for Dean's secret recipes. And they had two beautiful little girls to spend it on.
"Mary! Jamie!" They were down the block somewhere, but Sam knew his voice would carry far enough. Knew they'd probably know he was looking for them even if they didn't hear him.
"Awww, leave 'em play," Dean muttered, sliding up beside him in the door frame and dipping a hand into Sam's back pocket.
"You just want to eat the pie before they realize it's done."
"Sam, I am shocked and appalled that you would accuse me of such a thing." Sam loved the bright glint that shone constant in his brother's eyes. "Besides, it's a brand new recipe. We can't feed it to them without testing it out first."
"You're such a giver, Dean."
Dean grinned at him, a wide happy smile that Sam had to lean into, had to kiss long and hard.
"Eeeeewww," came two simultaneous little voices, and Sam backed off to spare their audience.
Their was pie to be had, and time for kissing Dean later.
~*~*fin*~*~
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This made me grin, thanks.
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I want to marry this paragraph and have it's little pie lovin' babies!!!! Really fantastic story!!! Full of love and win :-)
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I mean thank you! *flails more* God DAMN to I want some strawberry rhubarb pie right now.
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So much love, baby, thank you!
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And I loved the details in your story. Especially this:
Every pie sold bore a devil's trap carved into the crust, and all the customers glowed about how distinctive it was.
That's just...awesome. SO MUCH AWESOME. With pie! *flails*
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They just... totally WOULD, you know? Forget the more traditional holes that get cut into the tops of pies. Those will never do for a Winchester! *flails*
I'm so thrilled you enjoyed the domestic pie love! Thank you! *uses appropriate icon*
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Except, perhaps, if I had a pie of my VERY OWN right here and right now. To eat. Just for me.
But failing a pie of my very own, I'm still glad you liked story! Thank you, lovely!
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