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Anyone could carve initials in a tree. It took a knife and no skill what so ever. However…using a flame thrower to burn initials into a tree took skill. It was a deeper level of devotion.
Also? It was a reason to set shit on fire.
There was little in the world Dean loved doing as much as he loved setting things on fire.
It was supposed to be a surprise. Well…she was surprised.
You know when she pulled up in the drive way to find two fire trucks and the big oak tree in the backyard reduced to a smoldering stump.
“DEAN!”
He’d know that tone anywhere. The grin he plastered on as he waded through two inches of water—putting out a fire apparently flooded the front and back yard—was not even close to sheepish. It was more like I’m so awesome the tree spontaneously combusted. He actually considered that story for about two point five seconds. He figured telling her the truth would carry more weight. At least he was trying to be sweet. Chicks valued sweet…or at least that’s what he’d been told.
“Momma! I told him not to play with fire,” Matthew said as he splashed through the water to hug Brooke.
Dean glared at him and he might have mumbled the word traitor, but not too loudly. “I was going to burn our initials into the tree in the backyard.”
And it’d all been going FINE until one of the branches caught fire.
“He should have listened to you,” Brooke told Matthew. She stared hard at Dean. “Fire? Really?”
He shrugged and his grin got wider.
“I told Dad that it would burn. They make LOGS out of trees,” Matthew pointed out again. He wanted to make sure that he wasn’t in trouble.
“You are so grounded,” Brooke told Dean as she tiptoed through the water toward the front door.
“To our room?” Dean asked hopefully as he followed Brooke. “Uhm…Hot Ass…I don’t think we can go in there yet…something about making sure-“
Brooke’s glare stopped his words. “To Sam’s room.”
Oh…she was pissed. Note to self don’t burn Brooke’s shit.
“Aww come on, Hot Ass. Every time you look out the window and see that stump it’ll remind you of me,” Dean argued.
“There’s a stump?” Brooke asked.
Second note to self: Shut up while you’re ahead.
“Just a little one?” Dean responded.
Brooke closed her eyes and started counting silently. Dean kept waiting for her to finish. He counted past ten, then fifty. He was close to a hundred when decided this shit had to be interrupted.
“I’ll buy a new tree. Matthew and I can plant it tomorrow.” Besides digging holes was kind of fun. He’d never done it before except to bury or unbury something.
“If you dig up the entire yard, you will never, ever sleep in the same room with me again,” Brooke warned.
“Just one hole,” he promised with a grin.
And this time, the new tree would have their initials carved into it.
Anyone could carve initials in a tree. It took a knife and no skill what so ever. However…using a flame thrower to burn initials into a tree took skill. It was a deeper level of devotion.
Also? It was a reason to set shit on fire.
There was little in the world Dean loved doing as much as he loved setting things on fire.
It was supposed to be a surprise. Well…she was surprised.
You know when she pulled up in the drive way to find two fire trucks and the big oak tree in the backyard reduced to a smoldering stump.
“DEAN!”
He’d know that tone anywhere. The grin he plastered on as he waded through two inches of water—putting out a fire apparently flooded the front and back yard—was not even close to sheepish. It was more like I’m so awesome the tree spontaneously combusted. He actually considered that story for about two point five seconds. He figured telling her the truth would carry more weight. At least he was trying to be sweet. Chicks valued sweet…or at least that’s what he’d been told.
“Momma! I told him not to play with fire,” Matthew said as he splashed through the water to hug Brooke.
Dean glared at him and he might have mumbled the word traitor, but not too loudly. “I was going to burn our initials into the tree in the backyard.”
And it’d all been going FINE until one of the branches caught fire.
“He should have listened to you,” Brooke told Matthew. She stared hard at Dean. “Fire? Really?”
He shrugged and his grin got wider.
“I told Dad that it would burn. They make LOGS out of trees,” Matthew pointed out again. He wanted to make sure that he wasn’t in trouble.
“You are so grounded,” Brooke told Dean as she tiptoed through the water toward the front door.
“To our room?” Dean asked hopefully as he followed Brooke. “Uhm…Hot Ass…I don’t think we can go in there yet…something about making sure-“
Brooke’s glare stopped his words. “To Sam’s room.”
Oh…she was pissed. Note to self don’t burn Brooke’s shit.
“Aww come on, Hot Ass. Every time you look out the window and see that stump it’ll remind you of me,” Dean argued.
“There’s a stump?” Brooke asked.
Second note to self: Shut up while you’re ahead.
“Just a little one?” Dean responded.
Brooke closed her eyes and started counting silently. Dean kept waiting for her to finish. He counted past ten, then fifty. He was close to a hundred when decided this shit had to be interrupted.
“I’ll buy a new tree. Matthew and I can plant it tomorrow.” Besides digging holes was kind of fun. He’d never done it before except to bury or unbury something.
“If you dig up the entire yard, you will never, ever sleep in the same room with me again,” Brooke warned.
“Just one hole,” he promised with a grin.
And this time, the new tree would have their initials carved into it.
