#queueby doo

We know the boys always find some skeevy motel downtown, but what would happen if they stopped at the Hampton right off the interstate instead?

…

“Are you happy, Sam?" Dean asks, as they wait for the elevator (an elevator, for fuck's sake, Dean does not like hotels with elevators, he likes a room on the first floor with multiple escape routes, and Sam knows this). "Did you sleep better in a $129 room than you would have in a $50 room in town?"

Sam rolls his eyes. "The $50 hotel - if there even is one in this town - was ten miles down the road, at least. The Hampton was right on the freaking exit. I was tired, I was still bleeding a little bit, and I wanted to get off the damn highway and go to bed. And why do you care about the money? It's not like you're paying for it. Your imaginary friend Fritz Johansson is paying for it."

"Fritz Johansson does have a credit limit, you know," Dean mutters, as the elevator doors open. No one is inside. He stabs at the button for the lobby. "It's not like this card's gonna last forever."

Sam smiles like he finds that amusing, but he's just reading the corny sign on the elevator door.

(Okay. It's a little bit cute.)

When they get off in the lobby, Dean heads to the left, toward the exit, but Sam turns to the right. "Dude," Sam says. "Breakfast."

"Oh, come on. Can't we just go hit up a diner somewhere?"

"It's included, and you're the one who was complaining about finances, Fritz." Sam doesn't wait for a response, but just assumes Dean is following him, as if he'd won that argument, and Dean's gonna have to punish him for that later. But Sam is heading toward the smell of coffee, so. There's that.

It's not just coffee. The breakfast buffet is actually a pretty decent spread, with pastries and scrambled eggs and sausage and a big round contraption that looks like... yes, it is... a waffle iron.

"Waffles, Sam!"

Sam grins. "Have at it."

Oh yes, he will definitely have at it. By the time he joins Sam at a table, his plate is piled with steaming waffles drenched in chocolate syrup and a mound of whipped cream. Sam managed to find the Sammy-est breakfast possible: oatmeal and yogurt and whole wheat toast and a couple of pieces of fresh fruit. Sam raises his eyebrows at Dean's plate and wordlessly hands him a banana.

"Mmm. Banana split waffle. Good idea." Dean slices the banana over his waffle and peers over at Sam's sad little cup of oatmeal. "Oooh, you added some raisins! You're a goddamn madman, Sammy."