“What self-respecting cat doesn't like tuna?”

The kitten glared at Sam and at the fishy-smelling gob of gunk next to him. With a sniff, it settled down and began licking its paws.

Fussy, Sam could deal with: rude, not so much. He plucked the kitten up off the dash and held it up so he could look right into its tiny, fuzzy face.

“Come on,” he said, his irritation barely under control. “The book is clear - you have to have a full stomach before I can reverse the curse. You don’t want to stay like this, do you, Dean?”


Obviously I have been reading too much crack!fic lately. *g*