Supernatural One Shots

'Dont throw the Remote' A Sam One Shot

this is written for Zswagger4ever. (:

"Hey, Cece, hand me the remote." I look up at my husband Sam. Yea, Sam Winchester, Demon hunter, monster killer, Lucifers vessel, Sweet, knid caring, and really really tall. I look up from my magazine and stare at him. After a second, he turned towards me, opening his mouth to ask again, but he stops when I look at him.

For some reason I can't stand it when people don't use maners, one of the reason Dean and I hate each other. I also don't like people telling me what to do, and it seemed like Sam was telling me to get the remote. So of course, I picked it up and chucked it at him. It hit his chest and bounced off, hitting a lamp and shattering it. He looks at me like I'm crazy, and and I couldnt help but burst out laughing. "I'm not cleaning that up." He tells me. "Like you could make me do it." I shoot back, and he scowls at me. Standing up, he walks over to me but I'm already locked in the bathroom.

Lucky for me, our house is built to withstand demon attacks, so the lock is unpickable, and I don't think he will attempt to break the door down. I can hear him standing outside of the door, and I sit on the sink. Half an hour, I had cleaned, re-organized, and read every label in the entire bathroom. I listen behind the door, but it seems like he had left a while ago. I unlock the door and swing it open, looking up and down the hallway. He had turned off all of the lights in the house, and since it was 10:30, it was pitch black outside.

Tiptoeing, I go to the fridge, but slam it again when the light brightens the entire room. I turn to walk up to the bedroom and shriek when I run into Sam's chest. He wraps his arms around me and lifts me up, walking up the stairs. I struggle, but he refuses to let go or listen to my pleas of mercy. When he gets to our bedroom, he lays me down on the bed, and pins my small frame down with one hand.

Now I bet your wondering why I am making this sound likes hes trying to kill me. Its worse. Horrible, mindless torture that he inflicts on me when ever I decide to be bitchy. He's going to tickle me.

"Come on Sam, no need for violence." He chuckles as he stares down at me. "I love the fact you think its violence." He says as his hand decends. He starts tickling me, my stomach, behind me knees, my feet, everywhere, while I sit there howling in laughter, yelling for him to stop. Everyonce in a while he would stop and make me think he was going to leave me alone, then he would start tickling me again. Finally, I squirmed out from under him and took off towards the door. I didnt make it very far, as he grabbed my waist and pulled me onto his lap.

I relax when I realize that he's stopped trying to tickle, aka, torture me. I leans back, resting my head on his shoulder. "I love you." He whispers into my ear. I smile into the dark. "I know." Turning around I face him, and look into his eyes. "I love you too."

　

　

　

　Sorry if you don't like it, I can put more detail. Comment if its not long or detailed enough, and I will write more.