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Dean was relieved that he'd drawn Jack in the bunker's Secret Santa. Jack was easy to buy for – a shit-tonne of nougat, and he'd be as happy as a Nephilim gets.
At least Dean wouldn't have a rerun of last year's debacle when he'd drawn Crowley. That had been a bust on two counts. Firstly Crowley was a King, so had everything he wanted served up on a silver platter, and secondly, he was an ungrateful douchewad who never appreciated anything.
And then he felt sorry for whoever had drawn Castiel. Sure, he was easy to buy for, but there were only so many variations on a blue tie…
Speaking of Castiel, the angel still hadn't quite grasped the idea of Secret Santa. Focussing on the secrecy, he'd hidden last year's gift from everyone, including the recipient and no-one yet had found it.
Whoever Sam drew was the luckiest in the bunker. Sam would spend days thinking and overthinking with that giant brain of his. Then he'd spend hours traipsing around town to buy the perfect gift for his recipient.
Dean really hoped Sam had drawn his name. After all, he'd dropped enough hints about the Busty Asian Beauties super-deluxe Christmas special edition.
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