"Dean, stop encouraging her."

Sam sighs weakly as Dean points out a giant pretzel stand, dragging you away. You guys were on a case for christ's sake. Oktoberfest or not, there was still a shifter to hunt. But oh, it was so hard to say no to your eyes.

"Sam, look at it."

You come back over to him, holding a pretzel double the size of your head. Sam grins, not even minding when you pretend to wipe butter on his FBI jacket.

"Looks so good, sweetheart. You gonna share?"

He chuckles softly, knowing damn well you couldn't eat the whole thing.

"Ew, no. I'm not sharing with you."

You wrinkle your nose, and damn if it isn't the cutest thing he's ever seen.

"You're so mean."

Sam smiles fondly, guiding you into the bar that Dean had wandered into.