Ack! This one couldn't be tamed into a drabble...
Sam let out the breath he’d been holding as he eased the trunk of the Impala closed as quietly as he could.
So far, so good.
Now if he could just get through the next 10 minutes or so without Dean either killing him for the duct tape stuck to the Impala’s dash, or laughing himself silly at Sam’s expense, all would be good.
Settled in the passenger seat, he kept his eyes glued to the notebook in his lap, pen scribbling nonsense and doodles as his heart took up residence in his throat.
The driver’s side door opened and Sam risked a glance as Dean’s knee started to slide under the steering wheel and then stopped for a fraction of a second. Sam waited for the reaction, but it didn’t come. Instead, Dean just slid the rest of the way into the car and shut the door.
Then? Utter silence.
Sam closed the notebook and looked at his brother, but his brother wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at the two slightly saggy red stockings Sam had stuck to the dash on either side of the radio. Each one labeled with a name tag written on duct tape.
Still not saying anything, Dean just unbuttoned his coat and reached inside it, pulling out a slightly saggy green wreath that looked to measure about half a foot in diameter. He balanced it against the steering wheel for a moment as he smoothed out the red bow Sam remembered seeing him swipe from the top of a holiday packaged bottle of Jack Daniels the last time they were in a mini-mart.
Once the bow was fluffed to Dean’s satisfaction, he hooked the wreath around the rear view mirror and finally put the key in the ignition and the Impala roared to life. Sam just shook his head and smiled… and fiddled with the radio until Bruce declared Santa Claus was coming to town.