Work Text:
"No, Dean, I will not sit on top of the Christmas tree."
"Spoil sport. Not like it'd be the first time you had a stick up your ass."
"Pardon?"
"Nothing!"
"Why are we doing this, Dean?"
"Because it's Christmas!"
"And a little while ago it was Divali, but we did not decorate the house accordingly. Nor did we celebrate Ramadan."
"It's Christmas! Don't be such a Scrooge!"
"But...but, Dean, you don't normally celebrate Christmas. We did not celebrate it last year, or the year before, or..."
"Hand me the tinsel."
"..."
"And the - no, not that one, the one with the reindeer. Yeah. Thanks."
"...I am only trying to understand why we have to make our house look so...shiny. It is all very commercial, Dean.'
"Because we've got a house now, man! No point decorating a motel room, and John was too little to care anyway, really. But we've got a house! We're respectable, Cas! 'Sides, it's for John."
"John Gabriel does not need all these shiny things."
"Sure he does! All the other kids at school have stockings and turkey and fairylights and all that shit."
"The Goldbergs..."
"Cas, don't fuck with me. You know what I mean."
"But, Dean - it is all meaningless. It's just glitter."
"It's not meaningless. It means we're normal. We're a normal family."
"Dean, you hunt monsters for a living. I am an angel of the Lord. Our son, in addition to being our son, and thus both a miracle birth and one of the nephilim, is also the Messiah, and has stopped the Apocalypse. In addition, his Uncle Sam, who will be carving the turkey, is the antiChrist. And his paramour is a demon. This is not, by most people's lights, precisely the definition of a normal family."
"Bobby's normal."
"Robert Singer hunts werewolves and lays unquiet spirits to rest."
"Except on Tuesday night, when he'll be dressing up as Santa."
"...you know that John Gabriel will not be fooled by the beard you purchased, or the red suit."
"That's not the point, Cas!"
"What is the point, Dean?"
"Look, Mr Spock, just go with it, will you? This is our first Christmas together, as a family, with our own house. I want it to be special."
"But of course it will be special, Dean. It is always special."
"Don't give me the puppy eyes, damn it! You - oh, hey, you've got glitter on - no, not there. Higher. It's - oh, fuck it, c'mere."
"..."
"..."
"...Dean, that doesn't change...Dean, you're just...now you're trying to distract me. You always...you always do this!"
"You noticed. Is it working?"
"..."
"So d'you want me to stop?"
"Dean!"
"That's what I thought."
"Pleasecanwestayinyourat?"
"'At your Inn,' Billy. 'At your Inn.'"
"...at your Inn?"
"NO!"
"An' SO they TRIED anOTHer INN!"
"Do you remember what we said about being expressive, Katie? And how what you're doing with your voice isn't really being expressive?"
"No, miss."
"...okay. Never mind. Keep going."
"..."
"Billy? Billy, it's your line. 'Please, kind sir...'"
"Pleasekindsiristhereanyroominthebin?"
"Room in the INN, Billy!"
"intheinn?"
"No."
"Come on, Wayne. Where's that big voice I hear at Recess? Speak up!"
"No."
"Oh, you can be louder than that, Wayne!"
"NO."
"...okay. We'll work on that."
"..."
"Angelique?"
"..."
"Angelique?"
"..."
"ANGELIQUE!"
"'Es miss?"
"IF you would stop playing with Jessica's hair for just one minute, you might realise that it's your turn to speak!"
"S-s-sorry miss!"
"No, don't...no, Angelique, don't cry! Now stop - that's - oh, lord, you need a tissue, just...oh. Well. Or your sleeve. Right. Okay now? Good."
"..."
"...we're still waiting for the line, Angelique."
"So Joseph and Mary tried all the Inns in Bathleeham but they were all full."
"Miss Owen?"
"Not now, John."
"But Miss Owen, please, can I just...?"
"Not now, John."
"..."
"Go on, Billy."
"Pleasekindsiristhereanyroominthebin?"
"INN!"
"...intheinn?"
"No."
"Butmywifeisachild."
"WITH child! Your wife is WITH child! Not A child!"
"Yes she is."
"Well, yes, obviously LaShonda is a child, but the Virgin Mary was not a child, she was WITH child, which means pregnant."
"Oh."
"Miss Owen, what does virgin mean?"
"...er, not now, Kevin. Come on, Billy, let's go again."
"Mywifeispregnant."
"She's just fat."
"KEVIN! That is not your line!"
"I was impro...imp...I was making it up."
"Well, don't."
"Miss Owen, he called me fat!"
"You are fat!"
"BILLY! That is quite enough of that! Kevin, Billy, you will both apologise to LaShonda right this minute, or you will both be spending all of Recess in time out!"
"Sorry."
"Sorry."
"Right. Let's go again. We were...oh, blast. Where were we?"
"'But my wife is with child', Miss Owen."
"Ah, yes, thank you, `John. Um. John? Is your hand up because you need a bathroom break?"
"No, Miss Owen. But you do know that all this is made up, right? This story?"
"John, you will speak of people's religions with respect."
"No, but Miss Owen, Yeshua ben Yusef was from Nazareth, not Bethlehem. There is no evidence at all to place his birth in Bethlehem. It's just a story that people made up to tie him in with the prophecies about the King of the Jews being of the line of David, and..."
"JOHN GABRIEL WINCHESTER, THAT IS QUITE ENOUGH! This is a Christmas pageant, and we are telling the Christmas story, and there will be shepherds and sheep and three wise men and toy camels and a baby in a manger and it will all be CHARMING and CHRISTMASSY and nobody will call the virgin Mary fat! I have had ENOUGH! We WILL get this right, or all of you are going to be spending Recess in here with me, practicing until we have this whole show perfect! Do you all understand?"
"YES MISS OWEN!"
"Good. Right. Well. Sorry, children. I know we're all trying. I'm sure it's going to be lovely. Right, where were we?...do you have a question, LaShonda?"
"What does 'virgin' mean?"
"There! There he is!"
"Oh dear. His halo is crooked."
"That's my boy! Sammy, are you getting this?"
"Yes, yes, shush! The camera's working fine."
"This is it! This is it!"
"Ssssh!"
"..."
"Oh dear. Is that - is he glowing?"
"Shit! We talked about this! He'd better not...Wings! Crap! Wings!"
"..."
"...Oops?"
"Oh dear. I believe that may be my fault. I did recommend that he try to deliver his lines with integrity. We discussed The Method. Perhaps I should have been more specific about where to draw the line."
"Shit! He totally just flashed his wings at the whole school! Shit! We're gonna have to move to another town! So much for being fucking normal."
"Perhaps nobody noticed?"
"Perhaps nobody noticed the sudden burst of incandescent light and the shadow of a pair of gigantic wings that covered the whole back wall?"
"...perhaps?"
"One of the shepherds pissed his pants, Sammy. Aw, shit. We're gonna have to move."
"Really, Miss Owen, the most astonishing special effects! I have to congratulate you! Never seen anything like it!"
"Oh, well, Principal Pendergast, um..."
"Spectacular!"
"...er..."
"Really, we'll be the talk of the town! THIS will show those snooty S.O.B.s over at St Augusta's School! Ha! Their choir might have its own following on YouTube, but they can't compete with this! That was pure Hollywood, Miss Owen! Genius!"
"Um. Thank you? I...uh...I worked very hard on it?"
"John?"
"Yes, Miss Owen?"
"Did...do...was...never mind. Um. Good job with your lines."
"Thank you, Miss Owen! Can I go see my dads now? Can I? They're over there with Auntie Ruby and Uncle Sam, and Uncle Bobby and Auntie Ellen and Auntie Jo! Can I? They're waving!"
"Er. Yes. Yes, you run along, John. Um. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Miss Owen!"