#SamGabeHSAU -

When Sam gets home, Dean and Cas are playing poker with M&Ms;and drinking Mountain Dew out of shot glasses. It's delightfully amateur.

"Deal you in?" Dean asks when Sam lingers in the doorway. Compared to these two Sam's got no poker face, and it's kind of humiliating, but something occurs to him then and he shuffles over, plunking down between them.

Cas cuts the cards and deals Sam a hand. Dean shoves a dozen M&Ms;in his direction. Sam shakes his head no at the offer of a shot of Dew.

"So I've got a question," Sam says as he surveys his cards. Two, four, seven, king, ace. Every suit represented. He honestly doesn't understand how anyone ever gets dealt a winning poker hand. He's never had anything better than a pair.

"Shoot." Dean nods approvingly at his cards and slides three M&Ms;into the center of the table.

"Actually," Sam says, matching the bet, "the question is for Cas."

Cas raises by three. "Go ahead."

"You work on the Lion, right?"

"The newspaper?" Dean frowns and lays down two cards, which Cas replaces in short order. A flicker of worry goes through Dean's features, and the fact that it's barely perceptible doesn't mean it's not fake. "What about it?"

Sam figures the two and the four could give him a straight, but better to hold the king and ace so at least he has a high card. He puts down the three lower ones. "I was just wondering if it's fun."

"Are you thinking about writing?" Cas replaces only one card in his hand. Sam nods. "You should join. the people are very affable and the atmosphere is pleasant."

"But nobody reads the paper." Dean slides four more m&ms;into the mix, and now Sam has no idea what his hand is.

"It's not about whether people read it, it's about the experience of doing it," Cas counsels. "The ethic of a journalist. Learning how to gather and process information. Writing clearly for the public to understand."

"Process information, huh? Must be easy for you, you're a fricking computer."

"How do you decide what to report on?" Sam peeks at his cards and tries to suppress a shiver. Cas just dealt him two more kings. It's the best poker hand he's ever had. "Do they assign things to you?"

"We look at what's going on in the school, and we all choose the areas we're interested in. It's your call," he adds, gesturing to Sam's cards.

Sam starts and matches Dean's bet. He's playing overcautiously, perhaps, but it's M&Ms;, and who cares. "I think I might want to join."

"You'd be most welcome." Cas raises by six. Sam gulps.

"I fold, man," Dean groans, tossing his cards on the table -- nothing -- and pours himself another shot of Dew. He'll be up until three tonight.

"Sam?" Cas nods at him again.

"C-c-call." Now Sam remembers why he doesn't play poker. He doesn't like confrontation much. He gets stuttery.

Cas lays his cards on the table. "Two pair, eights over threes."

Sam doesn't say anything, just lays down his three kings, the ace and the nine. Neither Dean nor Cas moves. Sam gingerly begins to gather up the M&Ms;.

"You should definitely join us," Cas says, sounding vaguely dizzy. "With luck like that, you might land a scoop."

-
The next day Sam is introduced to the staff of the Lawrence Lion. Chuck, who is incredibly enthusiastic and nearly shakes his hand off; Becky, who looks at him flaring her nostrils in a way that could be either hostile or lustful; Ed and Harry, who look like they were just spat out of an '80s revenge-of-the-geeks movie, and a few others. The faculty advisor on the paper is Mr. Turner, who used to work at a major midwestern newspaper and still sounds like he's got a bottle of whiskey stashed under his desk. And Sam's surprised to see that Rose Red, Ruby Veldt, is also on the staff.

"It's not glamorous or anything," Chuck says apologetically, as though Sam was expecting champagne and red carpets. "But it's all about the public's right to know. Our job is to keep students informed about issues that affect them. For example, how much money is the school board cutting from our budget? Are the new rules about going off-campus fair? There's all kinds of things that if students knew about, they'd want to do something about. Things that affect all of us."

Sam likes that idea. He nods. "What about more personal things?" he asks. "Not everything people have to deal with is academic."

"I like him," Becky purrs, gripping Chuck's shoulder and giving it a firm squeeze that makes him wince in pain. "He's got the right idea."

"Don't mind her," Cas says in his ear. "She's been agitating for a gossip column for a while now."

"It's a good idea," Ruby chimes in. "That's what people are interested in reading. Not whether the superintendent can't find his dentures."

"Ruby, Becky, please," Chuck says in a tone of voice that musters up no authority whatsoever.

"That's not what I mean, " Sam says. "My... uh, my friend suggested to me that you might have an advice column. Where people can write in anonymously and get advice from one of their peers. It might help more than that one person. Other people who are having the same problem, you know? Might feel like they're not alone," he adds lamely. "Sorry, I guess that was kind of afterschool-special-y."

He dares to meet Chuck's eyes and is taken aback to find that they're dancing.

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