The bunker was quiet, except for the occasional sound of Sam flipping through the pages of a dusty old lore book, completely lost in his research. You and Dean? Well, let’s just say the enthusiasm for "bookwork" had long since worn off. Dean sat at the table, surrounded by a mess of open books and notes, but he wasn’t really paying attention to any of it. His eyes were locked on you, standing by the printer, where you were… printing random pictures of totally unrelated, absurd things out of pure boredom.

Dean's brow quirked in amusement as the first print rolled out—a picture of a cat wearing sunglasses. “Really?” he snorted, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “That’s what we’re doing now? Printing cat memes?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug, clearly entertained by your own antics. “Hey, research is boring. I need a distraction.”

Dean couldn’t help but grin, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, maybe try distracting yourself with something useful, huh?” he teased. “Like… the case?”

But then it happened. The next picture slid out of the printer, and this time, Dean's smirk disappeared, replaced by a look of complete shock. It was a photo of him, passed out on the couch, mouth wide open, snoring like a bear. He was wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, looking completely ridiculous. You had clearly taken it when he wasn’t paying attention.

“Dude!” Dean shot up from his chair, grabbing the picture off the tray, his eyes widening as he stared at it. “When the hell did you take this?!” His face flushed, half embarrassed, half impressed by your sneakiness.

Sam, completely unaware of the chaos unfolding behind him, kept flipping through his book, muttering stuff about symbols.

You couldn’t stop laughing, and neither could Dean—eventually. After a long pause, he cracked a smile, holding up the picture. “Okay, okay, I gotta admit, that’s pretty damn good.” He narrowed his eyes at you, but his grin gave away that he was far more amused than annoyed. “You’re lucky we’re best friends, or you’d be dead right now."