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His fingers sifted through her hair as she snuggled up closer to him. "What do you think he'll be?"
Mary's laugh had always been his favorite sound in the world. It reminded him of lazy Sunday evenings, barbecuing in the backyard while Dean dug through sand like he thought he was gonna get to China. "He's about nine minutes old, John, how am I supposed to know?"
He shrugged. "Ballplayer? Doctor? Lawyer?"
Mary smoothed down his shirt and sighed. "He can be a trashman for all I care."
"Oh, no no no, never our boy," John said, tilting his head to kiss at her hairline. "No, our boy's gonna be somethin' special."
"Maybe he'll be a very, very special trashman, John."
John laughed. "Is this your way of telling me that you've had an affair with our garbage man?"
"I'm so sorry you had to find out this way," she said, looking balefully up into his eyes. "Enrique and I--"
"His name's Henry."
She frowned. "What?"
"The garbage man. His name is Henry."
Mary rolled her eyes. "You know our garbage man's name?"
John smirked. "Hey, it's not my fault if you don't know the name of the man you're cheating on me with."
"Um." She bit her lip and looked at him. "He lied to me?"
John nodded. "Did he also switch bodies with a young Latino man? Because Henry is black, and about 60 years old."
Mary frowned at him. "Why do you know this? Why do you know his name? Why have you even met him?!"
"He picks up our garbage, babe. The least I can do is introduce myself while he's pickin' up Dean's dirty diapers."
"Dean's been out of diapers for a year now." Mary sighed again and rested her head on his chest. "You ruin all of my jokes."
John ran his hand down her spine and smiled at the top of her head. "Not all of them."
Her fist hit his stomach hard enough for him to grunt out in surprise, his legs jerking up involuntarily. "The good ones."
He clutched a hand to his belly, groaning. "That's not fair. Reciprocation is not an option."
She giggled. "Like you're gonna sock me in the stomach."
"Not when you've got my boy in there I'm not!"
She tangled her fingers in his shirt, massaging where she'd just hit him. "What are you gonna do if it's a girl?"
"It's a boy."
She snorted. "How do you know?"
"Can't give away all my secrets, now can I?"
Mary ran her hand down his torso to his leg. "Thought we said no secrets, babe."
John's sighed loudly. "All right, the thing is, if I do you while you're on your knees--"
"John," she fussed, smacking at his leg sharply.
"Ow, woman, you are abusive," he said, laughing and reaching down and grabbing her under her arms, hauling her up and on top of him. "How about you stop hitting me, hm?"
"If you do me," she asked, giggling. "You kiss our son with that mouth?"
He grinned up at her and brushed her hair out of her face. "Every damn night." Leaning up he captured her lips in a kiss. "Not the only thing I do with my mouth though."
She smiled and shifted her legs to straddle him. "You're a dirty boy, John Winchester."
He laughed and nodded. "That's why you love me." His grin widened. "That and that thing I do when I'm inside you and you--"
"Stop talking," she said, leaning down and shutting him up with her mouth as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer, "and give me a demonstration of that thing you do, huh?"
He laughed as she kissed him again, lifting his hands to frame her face. "Happy to oblige."